#to try and acclimate them to being apart

[kinnoth]

This is all to say that Thor was never Odin's first choice for anything, born as he was under Hela's shadow, born as he was to the purpose of replacing her, born as he was to the fact that Odin did not want her replaced in the first place and it was only bc Hela's ambition outstripped Odin's caution that he had to put her down

That is to say that Odin was always going to be disappointed in Thor, never mind the fact that he was also an anxious and sensitive child, who cried easily and was afraid of things like ghost stories and the dark. He was strongly built, bigger than his peers, and though he always won easily at sport and play, one could easily see how he held back.

(Hela never held back; Hela hurt her fellow children for sport and profit.)

And that's not even touching on the fact that he was always fussing after that Jotun foundling, tending to it and shielding it and mothering it.

By the time Thor met his father for the first time, face to face, he was 8 and Odin had already spent those years nursing his prejudices against him, and there was nothing Thor could do by then to make it up to him.

Anyway this is getting off topic, bc the thing I wanted to talk about is the fact that had Thor and Loki not been the unaccountably, inseparably, soul-bondedness kind of close as they were, they would have had to have been at each other's throats their whole lives. "There are no second princes on Asgard" is an adage that gets thrown around a lot (by me) and it means exactly that: had they not been the sort of unnatural closeness that they were, one of them would had to have killed the other in order to secure his place as heir. It is the way things are done; it is how things have to be.

(I think that this accounts for Thor's complete calm and acceptance when Loki sends the destroyer to Midgard after him in thor1. It has always been Loki's right to kill him in order to claim the throne; it has always his right to kill Loki if he'd ever thought it necessary. But he never did, and he never thought those old rights would have to be invoked between the two of them, but he's always known about them. They both have. It is simply the way things are)

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[wheneclipsefalls]

Obsessed with your writing! Especially the sully brothers x reader relationship!! If you're taking requests, I would love to see possibly something along the lines of lo'ak being slightly more jealous and possessive even when it comes to his brother, so maybe reader x neteyam are being very fluff and cute alone and it starts to get hot and heavy, and even though they know lo'ak would be jealous Neteyam just can't help himself 😩 just as neteyam and reader are finished and cleaning up lo'ak catches them and gets soo pouty and jealous and reader is soo apologetic and makes it up to him with his own special alone time asgdgdhdhfjfkf 👀🙏🏻

Masterlist AO3

Pairing: Neteyam (23) x Metkayina Fem Reader x Lo'ak (22)

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), explicit MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, aged up characters, established relationship, polyamory, dom Lo'ak, dom Neteyam, squirting, sub reader, power imbalance, jealousy, sibling rivalry, dirty talk, semi public sex.

A/N: Thank you to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun exploring a softer side to these three's dynamic. Also, thanks for being so patient <3

“You’re going to hurt your eyes staring at the sun like that, baby girl.” Neteyam warns you. Still, your gaze is locked to the horizon. The water is calm and clear, only the occasional canoe or ilu and rider surfacing. Nothing showing the shape of what you truly desire to see. 

“Yawne.” Neteyam tries again, finally breaking your focus away from the pulsing water. Looking up from your place in the sand, it’s easy to see the fond amusement in Neteyam’s golden eyes. “He won’t be back until tomorrow.” 

You huff and turn away from him. 

“I know that.” Your efforts to remain nonchalant are unsuccessful with the eldest brother. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest before you feel his shadow encapsulating your form. He leans directly over your sitting form till his playful eyes meet yours directly, blocking the view of the ocean. Neteyam’s tight braids dangle and sway upside down with the ocean breeze carrying them along. 

“Then why do you keep looking for boats?” A hairless eyebrow raises back at you and it becomes hard to hide your pout. 

It seems that your attempts at spotting the hunting party were not as subtle as originally imagined. Then again you figure nothing concerning you and the brothers is ever subtle. It’s been five days since Lo’ak left with the hunting party out past the reef. It’s the longest the two of you have been apart since mating. Sure there were times when one or both of the brothers were needed in these groups, setting out across the waves to gather greater supplies for the clan, but that had been when you were teenagers. 

Back then you could not verbally call them as yours. Even on those occasions you had been worried and anxious for their return, but those were thoughts that had to be kept to yourself. You can still remember Lo’ak’s smirk the first time you had bounded into his arms after he had been away on a three day journey. He was pleasantly surprised but wasted no time in pressing your body closer to his. Pulling away with inflamed cheeks, you could see the obvious pride that glimmered across his features. 

It was clear he knew of your little crush.

Now, having been mated to both brothers for several months, you are acclimated to their presence. You are fortunate enough to wake up with at least one of the Sully boy’s wrapped around you. Each night you fall asleep pressed between them, a game of footsy inevitably taking place throughout the night. Even with each of your busy schedules and responsibilities you seem to always find time to spend with them frequently. 

“You’re imagining things.” You insist, trying to look past his curtain of braids. 

Neteyam audibly laughs at this. He straightens up before plopping down beside you. Strong arms wrap around your middle and easily manhandle you to sit between his legs. It feels natural to melt back against his warm chest, Neteyam tucking your head beneath his chin. 

“My poor yawne, not getting enough attention with only one male to satisfy her.” Neteyam teases and you instantly slap his thigh in reprimand. It’s light and harmless, only there for show of your retribution. 

“Don’t say that.” A pout begins to form across your heart shaped lips. Thankfully Neteyam is unable to see it properly with you facing forwards. Still, he seems to sense it all the same, his cooing and amused chuckles not seizing for a moment.

Bent legs cage you in from each side, but the loose embrace is comforting to say the least. It doesn’t calm the storm of emotions and longing that plagues your brain, but the tension in your muscles begins to unravel into a more relaxed posture. Calloused hands dance across your shoulders and sides. The warmth of his hands seem to spread across your skin, subconsciously bringing a blush to your cheeks. 

Finally, they settle to knead and work at the knots in your shoulders. Neteyam is an expert at scaring away any forms of physical stress with those skilled hands. His strong grip formed over years of wielding a bow and carrying heavy canoes onto shore, proves to be efficient in digging into the deep muscle that is usually coiled tightly. You have to suppress a moan from escaping your lips. 

“He will be alright.”

Your eyes flicker open, unsure of when they closed in the first place. 

“Yeah…I know.” You live under no delusion that those words came out confident. Were it not for Neteyam’s great intuition and vast knowledge of your reactions, it’s clear he would still be able to decipher your mood. You’ve always been known for wearing your heart out on your sleeve. It’s a characteristic that can lead to deeper talks and understanding but also the same one that puts you into moods that end with you over one of the Sully brother’s knees. 

“Our sweet syulang, always concerned for her forest boys.” Neteyam coos, nuzzling into the back of your neck. The action starts to surface small giggles from your lips, tickling at the sensitive skin. Your sharp teeth gnaw into your bottom lip to try and keep them at bay, but it is already building into full blown laughter. This only spurs Neteyam onward, brushing your thick hair aside so he has better access to your neck. 

“Stop!” The pleas for mercy sound anything but intimidating with your radiating laughter sinking into every phrase. Before you know it, his legs have come over yours to keep you trapped while his fingers tickle into the soft flesh of your sides. 

You’ve always been ticklish, a fact that both brothers delight in and use to their advantage. Lo’ak was originally the first one to discover it and he had been relentless for the weeks following. Any chance he had to keep you pinned underneath him with desperate laughter erupting from you, he took. It came to the point where you were asking Jake for maneuvers that would get the male off of you. 

“Neteyam! M-mercy!” 

“Not till you admit how worried you are.” Neteyam insists. At this point you are squirming and frantically trying to kick his legs off of yours for relief. Unsurprisingly, you are unsuccessful with that heavy toned muscle clamping you in place. “Baby girl can’t handle Lo’ak being gone for a few days.” Neteyam teases.

It’s funny how after all this time, hearing the words out loud still makes you blush. You’ve done unspeakable things with these men, gave your body and soul to them and received the same in return, but there is still something about admitting your dependence on them that makes your ears heat up in embarrassment. 

“Fine! Fine! I’m a little worried, you skxawng. N-now let me go!” Intermittent hiccups cut your sentences into jambled pieces but luckily Neteyam finally yields. Your lungs struggle to inflate and exhale air quickly, heart beating against your ribcage. The eldest Sully lets you lean back against him once more as he peppers soft kisses along your cheek and temple. You can feel the curve of his lips against your skin. 

Arrogant Skxawng. 

“Lo’ak will be back before you know it.” 

You solemnly nod in response. Neteyam is right, but five days already feels like too much. It’s strange not having his snide remarks and devilish grin interrupting your day periodically. In many ways the brothers are like fire and ice. They have parts of their personalities that oppose one another and yet it feels unbalanced to only have one element without the other. There are moments where you admittedly enjoy spending one on one time with them, but things usually only escalate sexually in these scenarios if they’re quickies. Just simple moments where the heat of passion lures both of you into going further than anticipated. 

Although you prefer not to verbally admit it, part of this has to do with Lo’ak’s tendencies. Neteyam isn’t easily bothered by being left out. He’s too busy and sensible to monitor things as inevitable as that. The eldest brother only comes to heated anger when seeing other Na’vi males closing in on you. 

Lo’ak on the other hand, is a bit more sensitive to the exclusion. You blame it on the older-younger brother complex that they have grown up in. Neteyam has always been the golden child, spearheading the path for his siblings to follow while Lo’ak spent many of his adolescent years feeling like an outcast. In his eyes, Neteyam was the one that received all the praise and accomplished each milestone perfectly while he was seen as lesser than. It’s been years of healing and growing up, but a shred of those insecurities still lie beneath, no matter how much he denies it. Lo’ak is possessive of what belongs to him, perhaps afraid it could be taken away within an instant. 

You consider it a miracle that the two agreed to this special relationship in the first place. Still, that possessive behavior has a way of bubbling to the surface every now and then. 

“Five days is already a long time.” You mumble as Neteyam’s calloused fingertips trail to the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. It lights a flame there, sparkling along your veins into simple tendrils of pleasure. Five days is a long time, especially when you’ve gotten zero sexual relief within that span. 

“You think you can make do with silly old me for one more day?” Pointed teeth briefly nip at your twitching ears. 

Your lips part to throw back some witty response, but the sensation of long fingers reaching underneath the waistband of your loincloth, makes your mind go blank. It’s borderline humiliating how affected you are by such simple touches, but you’ve been on the edge for days now. Neteyam has been doting and affectionate as always but your nights end with innocent cuddling. Only now can you feel the evidence of his own sexual frustration poking your back.

“Please don’t tease, Nete.” You rangle out a response as the tip of his pointer barely brushes your unparted folds. Going without sex for almost a week is one thing, but you have little hope of surviving it with the mix of Neteyam’s teasing. 

“Why not?” He whispers, but those pointer fingers parts your petals and begins to rub delicately at your sensitive nub. Neteyam peeks his head around your shoulder once more. You obediently crane your neck to face him. His lips are soft and patient against your own, a different tune than the passionate one you are used to. 

“Miss you.” The words are barely more than a mumble against his lips. Pressing his nose against yours he breaks the kiss and smiles down at you. 

“Oh now you miss me too?” The tips of those sharp canines poke out in the smile. “How can you miss me when I’m right here, pretty girl?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. There is no desire to kick up a bratty attitude right now, not when your instincts tell you that Neteyam is willing to reward you for good behavior. Instead, your lashes flutter closed and you give him the most innocent and endearing peck on the lips you can manage. 

“You know what I mean, Nete.” His hands recede from your core and gently trace a path up to your hips. “Please?” 

The hold on your hips becomes a harsh grip, one that is used to flip you around. Finally facing him you waste no time in straddling his lap. Desperate lips attach once more and you can feel his impressive member rock hard and grinding up against you through the fabric. 

Lo’ak on his best days tries to keep his composure, forcing himself to walk back to the shared hut and into your arms instead of tumbling the way he would like to. Today, however, back early from the expedition, he can’t hide his excitement. A few drops of sweat trail down the back of his neck as he helps the others reign in the large net under the beating sun. The younger Sully brother ignores the aches of his muscles and continues to work as fast as possible.

Occasionally his gold orbs snap up to survey the perimeter in search of your form. For once he is relieved to not see you there. This way he can surprise you. Images of your soft body beneath him already fill his brain to the brim. Sleeping side by side with other Metkayina horny men is extremely disappointing in comparison to spooning you from behind as his cum leaks out of your tight pussy. 

From the corner of his eye, Lo’ak spots Ao’nung rolling his eyes. He ignores the look, confident that it only comes out of jealousy. Spirit far from being put down, Lo’ak rangles the net together quickly until he is finally dismissed. 

Hooks hanging from the netted loincloth clank together as he nearly sprints across the woven pathways of the village. The first place he looks is the marui, naturally, but neither you nor Neteyam are anywhere to be seen. He vaguely remembers the south beach being your favorite place to spend time after a long day of working so he beelines to the other side of the village. His only rest stop is one forced by Jake, who spots him and goes to welcome his son home. Lo’ak gives his father a nod of his head and a rushed explanation before getting back on course. 

It isn't until he makes it past the thick cluster of mangrove trees that his ears twitch, catching the sound of distant moans. His first instinct tells him to turn away, leaving the anonymous couple to have their fun, but then there is a distinct whimper that he could recognize anywhere. Lo’ak takes heed to not rustle the fallen greenery loudly as he prowls forward toward the source of the sound. 

And that is where he finds you backed up against a palm tree, his older brother balls deep inside you. 

“C-close!” Your eyes are squinted shut, the familiar look of ecstasy painted across your delicate features. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Give me another one.” Neteyam adjusts your trembling legs that are wrapped around his waist so he can change the angle slightly. This shift has a new onslaught of moans freely falling from your lips. 

“C-can’t!” You whine, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder. 

Careful to remain silent, Lo’ak studies your form. Your sweet body that has been haunting his dreams for the past five days. However, it’s his own back that he imagines your nails digging into while getting fucked, not his brother’s. 

“Don’t be stubborn, baby.” Neteyam grunts, hip rocking upwards at breakneck speed. “I know you can.” 

What tips you over the edge though is not encouraging words or the squeezing of those large hands around the plump of your ass, it’s the moment where Neteyam swings his queue over his shoulder and allows your dancing tendrils to intertwine. 

“Nete!” Your screech almost drowns out his own feral moan. He curses under his breath.

“Great Mother!” Neteyam groans, and from Lo’ak’s hidden spot in the bushes, even he can infer it's from the way you are clamping down around him. “I love you so much, baby girl!” 

“L-love you, Nete.” Lo’ak has to concentrate on the sound to make out your strangled words. 

He’s done watching the scene unfold before him. Listening to his brother’s groans he knows how this ends and he has no interest in waiting around to be discovered afterwards. Suddenly, his excitement has dimmed to that of a lonely dread. 

Careful to not be seen or heard, he traces his trail back through the array of trees until he can no longer hear the two of you. Lo’ak sets off to distract himself from the lewd scene he had discovered. Truth be told, he had seen and participated in moments like that with the two of you many times. The brothers were used to sharing sexual intimacy with you, but that wasn’t what made his heart clench. 

It’s the soft and tender intimacy in that moment that spurs dark feelings inside of him. To see such a sweet scene of love and devotion, all while he has been away. The lurking voice in the back of his head whispers creeping thoughts of not being needed. Perhaps you are not only able to manage but also more content without him there. 

Lo’ak knows better than to heed this tempting voice in his head. He knows he has a tendency towards letting these outcast feelings sink in. However, just because he doesn’t let himself believe such sad things, does not mean he is thrilled to see how well the two of you get along without him. 

Reluctantly, Lo’ak makes his way back to the Sully residence. Surely at least Tuk will be happy to see him. 

“Hold still!” Tuk hisses, yanking on the small braid in retaliation. Lo’ak winces, always surprised by the increasing strength of his now teenage sister. 

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters under his breath, but Tuk rewards the comment with a slap to the head regardless. Only five minutes of lacing the new shells through his hair and Lo’ak is already itching to find a way out. He sours at the idea now of waiting for you to realize he is home. Neteyam or not, Lo’ak is anxious to see you. 

Tuk giggles in delight as the last of the shell carved beads are finally positioned properly in his hair. She beams proudly at the handy work. It’s clear that she requires no outside approval to know she has done a fantastic job. Of course, he knows it’s expected regardless. 

It’s in the middle of giving these compliments that he is knocked to the ground by your charging figure. The two of you fall back in a tangle of limbs as you squeeze him tightly. Finally, out of the dazed surprise, he wraps his arms around your waist. Quick kisses are peppered along his cheeks and nose rapidly before they finally reach his lips. 

“You’re back!” Your voice radiates energy and sunshine, but Lo’ak can still hear the echoing of moaned devotions you had been spewing for his brother moments earlier. From the sidelines, Tuk wrinkles her nose at the sight of you two, but even pinned underneath you Lo’ak does not miss the twitchings of a smile on her lips. 

“How long have you been back? How dare you not come find me?!” You complain as Lo’ak finally manages to sit the two of you up. Your fingers quickly find the newly beaded braids that hang over his eyes. You grin while fondly twisting the braids between the pads of your fingers. 

“I did, but you seemed a little…preoccupied.” 

Your smile drops and for the first time, Lo’ak makes eye contact with his brother that is casually leaning against the entryway. 

“Oh.” It’s all you can think of to mutter. 

“Tuk’s been waiting forever to get those beads in your hair. Surely that must have some priority.” Neteyam quickly cuts in, ruffling her braids messily. The distraction is enough to disrupt what was sure to be an awkward silence between the three of you. Neteyam focuses his energies on maintaining his younger sister’s innocence. 

“Naturally.” Lo’ak agrees, eyes never meeting your own. 

Neteyam is already set to work, distracting Tuk with inquiries of getting new beads for his own hair. Luckily she takes the bait eagerly, letting you and Lo’ak steam in your own cloud of tension.

“Lo’ak I…I’m sorry, we didn’t kno-”

“No worries.” He swiftly replies while simultaneously lifting you off of his lap. “We should head out before the hunting party devours the rest of dinner. Trust me, they’re desperate for anything besides boiled fish eggs.”

He’s standing and trailing out of the marui with Tuk before you have a moment to protest. Neteyam lets out a heavy sigh, offering you a sympathetic smile and hand to help you up. 

The rest of the night doesn’t proceed in much better of a fashion. Lo’ak doesn’t outright ignore you, returning tender touches and responding to questions, but you can feel the reservation holding him back. He doesn’t jump to tell outlandish stories like usual. The younger Sully allows the other members of the party to take the reins of the conversation, only hopping in to aid when specifically called upon. 

That night with the three of you back in Neteyam’s marui, the tension is palpable. You try to fill the air with fun stories and comments about how much Lo’ak was missed but neither brother does more than nod and occasionally pass out a one syllable answer. Neteyam affectionately lays a hand on Lo’ak’s head while the younger brother is putting away the fishing supplies, but his arm is brashly swatted away. It’s not an uncommon interaction between the two, something they’ve been known to do since they were teenagers, but there is an added sharpness to Lo’ak’s recoil. 

Neteyam’s eyes cut to you, visibly rolling his eyes to show how unnecessarily his brother is being. You give him a reprimanding look, motioning for him to be nice. His attitude doesn’t shift much at the request but he does manage to give his younger brother some space for the rest of the night. A fact that you are grateful for, originally worried that you were about to witness another one of the Sully brothers’ brawls. 

As the years have passed and maturity has settled upon each of them, they’ve come to be more respectful of one another. It’s that fact alone that allows this three way relationship to work in the first place, but there are times where the sibling rivalry still peeks out. Times where Neteyam finds Lo’ak dramatic and Lo’ak can see nothing but the golden child that has everyone wrapped around his finger. 

Naturally you’ve jumped in several times to mediate the interactions, but you have also come to learn that sometimes they need to be left alone to fight it out. Chances are they are back to being friends again in the morning with nothing more than a few bruises to show from their argument. 

Unfortunately, Neteyam seems to decide that keeping some space from you too would help wash away the memory of the scene Lo’ak walked in on. The bed is cold, trapped between the two of them while they both face away from you. A pout sits heavy on your lips as you toss and turn all night. Lo’ak doesn’t move away when you come to spoon his larger form from behind, but it’s still not how you imagined spending the night of his return. 

The next morning when you wake with only Neteyam by your side, you decide that enough is enough. You refuse to let another day pass with this hot and cold tension between the two of you. 

The village is still awakening, with the orange glow of daylight barely breaking the horizon, only a few early morning stragglers flit along the bouncy pathways. Most are in a rush to get out into the open ocean and make some morning kills. Lo’ak doesn’t have patrol or assignment with the hunting parties today, so it takes some effort to figure out where he has run off to. Luckily, you can recognize the muttered curses in the Sky People language that falls from his lips. 

“Damnit!”

The sound comes from underneath the walkway and you know that you are bound to find either your lover or Jake Sully. It’s endearing to see how much of his father’s lingo Lo’ak has committed to his own vocabulary. It’s still a struggle and annoyance to try and decipher what each word means but you’ve started to pick up on the feeling behind the most crude ones.

Flitting across the woven floor you follow the distant muttering accented with the swish of water beneath your feet. It takes you to the edge of the village where you finally hang over the walkway to spot Lo’ak wrestling with something underwater. Laying your body down to peer over the edge, your curly hair falls forward till the ends become dampened by the water’s surface. It takes a few seconds to realize that he is currently wrestling with a tangled net around the base of a support tree. 

Even from the distortion from the ocean water, you are able to make out his impressive physique and flexing biceps that yank on the sturdy wire. When he breaks through the water’s top once more for a breath and another round of curses, you allow yourself the luxury of porusing every inch of his majestic body with your eyes. He wears one of your favorite loincloths on him, a laced garment of mangrove leaves dyed a royal shade of purple. It’s a very traditional Metkayina attire only further complimented by his dark inked tattoos and shells swinging from his signature braids. 

Today, however, his beautiful dark braids are fashioned into a top knot, showing off his bared neck and shoulders sinfully. A part of you wonders if he chose his attire this morning simply to punish you for yesterday, Lo’ak is no stranger to your preferences and he has been known in the past for using them to his designs. Regardless of intention, it would be a lie to say it isn’t working as you oggle at the shifting muscles along his back while he pulls at the net violently. 

The years have been oh so kind to Lo’ak as he has grown into an accomplished male and warrior. The once slim beanpole of a body that you remember him coming to the island with (although even then you were quite infatuated with his appearance entirely) has shaped into a stronger Metkayina build while still maintaining certain Omatikaya physical traits. His shoulders had spanned out to create a surface broad enough for easily harboring canoes and nets full of gain. Even his thighs had become sturdy and encapsulated with smooth muscle. Somehow, however, that form still found ways to narrow into the slim waists known as a forest person trade mark. 

It has always driven you to the point of insanity, how well the brothers took the best of each culture and mixed it into your personal heaven. 

“Come on!” He grits out between bared teeth, starting to use his weight as a force against the trapped net. 

“Fucking Damnit!” He exclaims, starting to wrap the net around his flexed forearm.

“Fuckeng damitt” Your attempt to mimic his words come out rushed and confident but with the clear overshadow of a thick accent. It makes his head finally spin in your direction, startled expression shaping into that of recognition. 

“Don’t let Neteyam catch you using that language, yawne.” He warns you halfheartedly, already back to tangling with the destroyed net. 

For some strange reason Neteyam has always been more sensitive to your use of obscene Sky People language than anything Na’vi curse related. Something about those fowl words being too dirty for such pretty lips. It’s half the reason you still struggle to understand the meaning behind these thrown English curse words. Still, it’s always an effective way to get either of the brother’s attention. 

“What does it mean?” 

“Nothing really, yawne. Just don’t use it.”

Your clear pout is wasted on his dismissive attitude, still facing away from you as he puts his sole focus on undoing the stubborn net. The blood is already rushing to your head from being upside down and still Lo’ak has given you nothing close to the attention or reassurance you require. 

“You use it.” You point out. 

“You know that’s different, mama.” The nickname is enough to finally have a small smile encasing your lips, unfortunately it’s fleeting. “Why are you out of bed? It’s barely dawn.”

Lo’ak doesn’t give you a second to respond before taking in a full breath and dunking under the water again. Your teeth grind together as you wait impatiently for him to stop fumbling with the twine underwater and let you work together a reconciliation between you two. The younger Sully brother has always had a way of expressing his disapproval, the theatrics sometimes enough to have you mouthing off and trying to beat him at his own game. Today seems to be no exception. 

Guilt is quickly whittling along your nerves, faster and faster as the silence stretches on and Lo’ak still remains hidden beneath the surface. When his head finally pops up out of the water, the words leave your lips within record time. “I missed you!” 

Amber eyes finally flicker up towards you for the first time since your arrival. 

“Yawne, I’m working.” 

“Is this my punishment?”

He lags at the question, ears twitching and tail coiling together before facing you once more. His dark eyebrow furrow and the edges of his lips downturn. 

“Punishment?”

It takes a harsh steadying breath before you brashly begin to give the speech you’ve been preparing since last night. There seems to be so many things to include, so many ways to say you’re sorry. The order and details of this speech are rapidly becoming jumbled until you are sure that not even half of it will come out right even before you have parted your lips. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Lo. I really am! Neteyam and I just got caught up in the moment and…not that I’m trying to excuse the behavior because yes it was not the most considerate to you. And then the timing of it all was…by Eywa, disastrous. I wanted to be there when you got back! I had a whole plan, was going to pick your favorite fruit but of course I didn’t think you would be back that early. Still I just-”

He sternly speaks your name, cutting off the endless spew of apologies. 

“Breathe, baby.” Lo’ak calmly instructs and although your urge to continue talking till things are resolved still bubbles inside, you follow his command. Once you’ve seemed to settle enough to his approval he finally continues. “There is nothing to apologize for. You’re Neteyam’s mate too. You don’t need my permission to fuck each another.” 

Although his words are spoken calmly, the edge of his cursing and timber in the tone still sets your anxiety spiking. The Sully brothers may be proud to know you inside and out, but that bridge goes both ways. You recognize this tone of voice, the hint of shame and bridled emotion that Lo’ak carries when he forces himself to not overreact about something. He has a inclination to keep certain emotions locked away when deemed childish or ridiculous, perhaps ones that he was scolded for having in his adolescence. 

Truth be told, you don’t require his permission. The three of you have entered into this relationship and agreed to the terms consequently but that doesn’t mean you are proud of how things went down. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, not when it comes at the cost of Lo’ak’s feelings. There were better ways that yesterday could’ve been handled. A deep frown etches into your features when you imagine how disappointing it must’ve been for Lo’ak to come home and have his first welcome home be nothing more than a reminder of how well you and Neteyam can get along without him. 

“It wasn’t sensitive and I’m sorry. I know how you feel about it and-”

“Yawne,” He drops the net and faces you fully, the heat of his attention searing into your skin. “You do not need to apologize to me. I can handle it, I don’t need you to coddle me.” 

Slowly your wide tail slinks do the ground, following suit with your pinned back ears. Lo’ak, however, can not hide his own tell-tale signs either. It’s easy to recognize the shift of his own tail and tension creeps through his shoulders. Although he returns to the task at hand, you are far from being done with yours. 

You allow your body to flip over your head, cascading you over the edge and into the shallow water. Feet planted along the sandy bottom, the water’s surface reaches considerably higher up your own torso in comparison to where it sits along Lo’ak’s hip tattoos. He’s back to gathering the net, although he can sense your presence easily. 

“I can tell you’re upset.”

“I am not mad. Truly.” The brief eye contact is broken as he turns around and digs his heels into the sand, readying himself to tug once more. It only takes a few more tugs for Lo’ak to decide that this method is ineffective. He easily heaves himself back up onto the walkway to retrieve his discarded sheathed knife. When he does, your eyes follow the curve of his sculpted ass, water dripping down the slopes of his spine and hips. 

The two of you may be in the middle of whatever you call this disagreement, but it’s been five days since you’ve seen him. 

Five days since his five-fingered hands have explored your body. Five days since he has been seated inside of you. Five days since you have had the opportunity to express your love through the passion of tangling limbs and unrestrained devotion. 

The throb of your core is insistent as you drink in every detail of his beauty. 

Back in the water with knife in hand, Lo’ak stubbornly continues to give you the cold shoulder. 

“You’re not mad, huh?”

“Nope.” He mutters, adjusting the straps of his loincloth. 

“Well then if you’re not mad…” You trail off, sauntering over to him through the thick of water gracefully. A shiver wracks his spine when your soft fingers trace along each jut of his vertebrae. “Indulge me.” You let your obvious seductive passion drip into each word. Now is not the time to be bashful. You’re ready to outright beg if that is what it takes.  

“Yawne…” He sighs, “I really am supposed to get this net un-”

“Forget about the damn net for a minute!” His head whips around to send you a sharp look, but it does little to sway your determination. It’s too easy to see the spark of intrigue in his eyes. “You’ve spent the last five days working, all away from me. You can spare a minute.”

Your hands naturally come to rest along his slim hips as he turns to face you fully, his larger frame towering over you and blocking the orange glow of the sun. You can’t even find it in yourself to be apprehensive or remorseful when those long fingers tilt your chin up and bring you looking directly into that unyielding gaze. Any attention is considered progress and welcomed openly. All it takes are a few strategic maneuvers and this man will be beneath your fingertips. You know it. 

“Seems like someone forgot their manners while I was away.” The cool shells along those two loose braids dangle down to your soft cheek. Lo’ak’s calm breath fans over your lips, mere centimeters away from their destination. 

“Oops.” You answer coyly, a feigned pout mixed with a shimmer of arrogance laces your features. He doesn’t stop the pads of your fingers from leisurely drawing swirling lines along his abdomen and sides. “Although I hardly think I could be blamed for such a thing.”

An innocent peck is left on his lips.

“You are the one that left after all.” Another kiss and then you’re turning away to make your retreat. 

You are barely afforded one step before being pulled back into his embrace, back now pressed against the supporting tree. His lips are on yours in an instant, heated passion and desperation swirling in every movement of his protruding tongue. Barely having fleeting moments to breathe, you return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm and ferver. 

Finally!

It takes considerable effort not to let your pride show in a devilish smirk against his lips. Lo’ak loves to consider himself the cunning clever predator in your little game of push and pull, but you can’t help but feel that you are the victorious one in this situation. 

A cinching grip around your waist is all you require as a signal to jump and wrap your legs securely around his hips. The new position finally allows some much needed friction along your core, requiring every fiber of self discipline to not immediately grind back against him. Fingers grasping at the nape of his neck, you enjoy the way your mate completely devours you whole. Every worry and hesitation finally flies out the window now that the sweet reassurance of physical intimacy soothes those nerves. 

When he finally pulls away, allowing air to reach your lungs once more, his wandering touch trails along your outer thighs. Your ankles cross and you pointedly flex to pull him closer. 

“God, I missed you, yawne.” He chuckles, nose pressed against yours. 

“Let me make it up to you.” It’s a soft plea, aided by your docile expression and doe eyed impression. It would be foolish to believe that Lo’ak buys the innocent act, but regardless he is too eager to see where this thing goes to truly care. Might as well let you be a little spitfire, he’ll be the one winning in the end either way. 

A low hum rumbles in his chest. Lo’ak allows his eyes to linger over your small frame, revel in the way it is so sweetly wrapped around him like a vice. It’s been way too long. Although he prefers to still tease and torment you a little further, he’s too hungry to let things carry on for too long. 

“You really want to make it up to me, tanhi?” A stray curl is delicately brushed from your forehead, ears twitching in response to the gentle touch. 

“Yes.” 

“Well lucky for you I know just the way.” 

There isn’t a second allowed for questioning before your world is being flipped around again and you find yourself sprawled out across the walkway. He heaves your smaller frame up onto the padded surface as if throwing another net out into the ocean, effortlessly and with confident familiarity. You half expect him to jump up and join you, scattering away to a secluded spot to finally be together, but then large hands are pulling you towards the edge till your ass almost hangs over.  

A small squeak escapes your lips as you try to understand what is happening but then the ties of your loincloth are being unknotted expertly. 

“Lo’ak wait!” You attempt to push at his working finger while whipping your head around frantically to see if anyone else has stumbled upon the two of you. This section of the village is a newer addition. It’s lined with recently built maruis meant for newly mated couples, none of them occupied yet. However, that does not deem the two of you safe from random stragglers or curious Na’vi that come to investigate the noises you are sure to make if this man keeps working you up the way he desires. Lo’ak is unswayed by your resistance, gently swatting your small fingers away in slight annoyance. 

“Not here.” Heightened awareness of your public location naturally drops your tone down into a hushed whisper. Lo’ak’s lips curl up into an amused crooked grin as he shakes his head fondly. Before you know it, he has successfully unraveled the twine material and starts to try wrestling the fabric away from your pelvis. 

“Yes here.” Comes his rebuttal. 

“But what if someone hears?” When your legs snap close to keep the fabric in place, his golden eyes snap up to your own cerulean orbs sternly. The raise of those unique eyebrows is a sure sign that you are about to walk on shaky ground. 

“Then I guess you will have to be quiet. Won’t you, sevin?” 

There is a way out of this, just one mutter of your safeword and Lo’ak is sure to bundle you back up and lead you away. The thought crosses your mind for a moment, but a lingering promise of disappointment at the end of that path advises you against it. It’s impossible to ignore the pool of heat in your gut as you come to realize the true risk of this situation. Sometimes you wonder if you have your own sex drive and logic playing for opposing teams. 

“Lo!” You whine, hands coming to cover the blooming blush across your heated face. It’s all the confirmation he requires before parting your legs and finally stripping the fabric away. 

The heat of his intent gaze upon your exposed folds seems to sear right down to your core. Even with the remnants of salt water covering your teel skin, he is sure to see the evidence of your sticky arousal seeping out. A feral grin overtakes his expression as he repositions your legs to be bent and spread properly. An unobscured view of your most intimate parts. 

He leans in to give his signature little kiss atop your button, but instead of the usual teasing peck you are instead met with a burst of warmth across your exposed parts. He wastes no time in leaving a never ending string of open mouthed kisses to the sensitive area. His tongue mimics the ministrations of your heated kiss earlier but now along your delicate pussy and it’s such a skyrocket from zero to one hundred, it takes a moment to recapture your breath. 

“Lo’ak! Wait don’t you think…ah shit! Lo, you’re gonna kill me!” You screech out, barely able to randomly dampen down the volume of your own voice. It feels as if it has been a century since the welcoming warmth of his mouth has swiped along your inner parts and the drastic change is overwhelming to say the least. Caught between trying to wrest his face away from your soaked petals and keeping your head on a swivel to look for passerbys, it’s difficult to keep your brain online. 

“Someone is going to catch us.” 

His lips finally descend from your pussy, shiny slick already visible along the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. Lo’ak uses those large hands to grip your inner thighs and spread them properly again. 

“It’s been almost a week without the taste of you, mama. Not sure how you expect me to act.” He chuckles deeply, eyes already trailing back down to your vulnerable flesh. “Besides,” A finger swipes through the cut of you, drawing another wrangled moan from your throat. “I can tell she missed me too.” 

It’s hard to say no to Lo’ak when he is in this state, so utterly pleased with himself as he draws teasing circles along your clit, his beautiful braids tied atop his head just the way you like and broad shoulders creating the perfect surface to rest your dangling legs. Logic and lust do not mix well, one always comes to outcompete the other and seeing the state that he is in after your own longings over the past few days, it seems the desire has the upperhand in this fight. 

“So, be a good girl. Keep those legs spread and let me have my breakfast.” 

You go to make some smart remark after the devious wink he sends your way but any resemblance of a planned sentence is interrupted by the heat of his mouth on you once more. Lo’ak is insatiable, skipping the common steps of warming you up and instead taking everything you have to offer as his own personal dessert. His textured tongue glides along your inner folds and swirls around the clit with flickering intensity and accelerated pressure. 

The only sounds that can be heard are that of rushing water, distant murmurs of the village waking up and Lo’ak’s absolutely feral groans as he eats you out fervently. The years of practicing his breath hold appears to come in handy as he suffocates his own face with your sweet pussy. 

While he makes no efforts to keep his groans and whines of pleasure at bay, you are slowly losing the awareness to keep yourself from doing the same. It continues at such a pace that sends tendrils of pleasure crawling up the base of your spin to the tips of your pinned ears. It feels as if bolts of lightning are gathering in your pelvis with nowhere else to go. Your cerulean eyes rangle themselves open so you can stare at the brightening sun with your head sprained backwards. It’s difficult to focus on the changing colors of Pandora's wondrous skies but it’s the only tool at your disposal as one more look at Lo’ak between your thighs is sure to bring on the impending orgasm. 

At first, he truly does focus on getting his own fill, messily devouring your unique taste until it paints his dark blue skin. However, Lo’ak seems to find a goal after a few minutes of your muted moans. And that goal is all focused on making you fall apart for him, tremble and break beneath his skilled tongue and let those pretty sounds out without apprehension or care. 

The shiny jewels of your top are flipped to the side to join your sprawled out hair as he goes to work on exploring and massaging your succulent breasts. His efforts below don’t break for an instant, finding a way to multitask between palming and exciting your tender breasts and sucking your living soul out from your pussy. 

When those skilled fingers cinch around your nipples sharply just as his lips close and suction around your bundle of nerves, it’s the pebble that breaks that stone wall. Pillowy lips part to release desperate whimpers and moans as your back arches lewdly. Somehow it’s possible to feel Lo’ak’s triumphant smirk against your core even as he continues to suction your clit expertly. The heels of your feet are already digging into his flexing shoulder blades and your fingers seem to find their own way into his bun to tug roughly, but that only spurs on a deep groan from the forest boy. 

If anything he encourages the rough play, buzzing words of approval along your pussy to keep you going. It’s a wonder that his bun doesn’t fall out after several minutes of your rough yanking. Were you in any better state of recollection you would see the strain of Lo’ak’s neck to keep his head stubbornly in place with every yank of his hair. Still, Lo’ak doesn’t show a glimmer of complaint. His eyes darken into pools of molten good, only visible through the sprawled slits of his eyes the few times he comes up for air or to admire your wreckage. 

“Oh Eywa, Lo’ak! F-feels so good, please please don’t stop!” 

“Atta girl.”

His dull nails flick at the peak of your right breast, eliciting a sharp shot of pain that melts into thrumming ecstasy. The pleasure is all consuming and hurtling you towards the cliff sooner than you would like. Lo’ak shows no signs of wanting to slow down, even as your grip on his hair tries effortlessly to yank him away. If he continues now you are sure to climax before the two of you have even begun, and the thought of not being filled by him after days apart is disheartening. 

“Wait, Lo’ak! Need you inside. Need it right now!” 

Your eyes lock, his own peering up at you as he makes a show of unfurling his tongue to lick broad stripes from your pussy to clit. The lewd scene is enough to have that familiar tension coiling in your pelvis. 

“Nu-huh, baby. Not yet. I still haven’t gotten my welcome home present.” Sparkling eyes of mischief tickle at your intuition, warning of danger ahead. 

“Lo’ak! Sir please!” Hopefully the formal addressing is enough to have him swayed to your side. “If I cum now I don’t know if-ah oh Eywa…Lo! If I will be able to cum again. W-want to cum on your cock.” 

There is a moment of reprieve when Lo’ak tenderly kisses and sucks at the plush flesh of your inner thighs. Somehow the younger brother has always had an immaculate memory of which marks were left by him. He nurses those particular spots back to a beautiful shade of purple, leaving the marks from his brother unattended. The lack of response has your wall of suspicion hoisting quickly, but Lo’ak seems to be in a good mood so you take comfort in that. If anything, you start to believe that the earlier hurt has been washed away by this physical intimacy. 

When the tips of two fingers nudge at your entrance, you let out a sigh of relief. Only a few more minutes to get you stretched properly and then he will finally seat himself inside of you. Truth be told, there seems to be hardly any need for preparatory measures. The velvety walls of your channel grip his long fingers tightly, pulsing around him incessantly. They are able to twist and scissor inside of you seamlessly, walls fitting around his shape in practiced obedience. 

A jolt of pressure stabs at your groin, but then those fingers curl to massage at your g spot. With toes curled and a scrunched face you try to hold yourself back from the edge. This effort seems almost futile when his sticky lips come to fondle with your nub once more. 

“Lo! Baby, too much! I-I’m gonna cum!” 

A soft kiss is placed directly atop your mound before that smug face is glancing up at you from below. 

“I really did miss you, mama.” The smooth brush of his voice darkens into a languid purr. 

“M-missed you too, Lo’ak! So much! Need you now.” 

The pads of his fingers press and work at that tight bundle of nerves. The building waves of your impending climax are reaching new heights and sending warning signals through your body. Already you can tell that this is about to be a powerful release, one that makes your stomach flips in somersaults. 

“God, nothing tastes as sweet as you, paskalin.” His pink tongue comes to swipe along his bottom lip, collecting the sticky substance smeared over his complexion. “You mentioned something about bringing me fruit when I returned?” It’s almost comical the way his voice morphs into a casual tone even as his fingers are knuckles deep inside of you, torturing that sweet spot. 

“Yes, I was going to bring you your-ah favorite fruits.” 

“Fuck, yawne. You are just too precious sometimes.” He chuckles, pinching your chin and swiping a finger over your parted lips. A trickle of saliva escapes your mouth and wets his thumb in the process. Lo’ak shows no objection, instead pushing his thumb past your lips to press down on your tongue. Automatically, the pink of your tongue lays flat obediently, allowing him to see your mouth clearly. “I appreciate the thought, but you know what I really want, mama?”

It’s not a rhetorical question, evident by the halt of his fingers and the way one eyebrow arches upwards. Gulping down the pooling saliva around his thumb you manage to get out a small “what?” around the digit.

Instead of a verbal response you are met with the sight of his saliva covered thumb trailing down the slope of your neck, across the valley between your breasts and drawing over every curve of your soft body until finding their destination back upon your clit. Just enough pressure is applied to bring forth another wave of white hot pleasure. Successfully, the edge of his thumb manages to slip past the clitoral hood and find home right atop that incredibly small and sensitive button of nerves. 

Jolts of lightning laces your nerves with every swipe of that teasing finger, only bringing further pleasure when accented by the other hand working to massage that bundle of nerves from the inside. It’s a measured and merciless onslaught of pleasure, trapping you with inconceivable thrills from either side. 

One look at that smug expression painting his face, and realization dawns. 

You know exactly what he wants. 

“No! Lo’ak, you know I can’t!” Your protests are smeared by the occasional shrieks and moans that endlessly cascade from your lips. The corners of his lips curve upwards. 

“Come on, mama. You and I both know you can. Just need to be a good girl and let it go for me.�� His argument is further aided by simple flicks of his tongue at the bottom of your clit, between his working fingers. Pressure is already building at an alarming rate. You’ve never seen a volcano in person but you imagine this is the feeling of rising intensity that preludes such a colossal explosion.  

“Lo’ak!” Your legs shake and tremble as you try to push back against him. The squirming gets you hardly any relief as the effects of such pleasure seem to already have been draining your body of its energy. 

“Safeword if you need to. Otherwise, I will assume you’re just being pouty with me.” Lo’ak warns before returning to the onslaught upon your cunt. 

You consider his words for a moment, checking yourself to see if this is really your breaking point, but the idea of stopping now strikes a lash of fear through you. Surely the only way to get through this is power forward and find the precipice of pleasure on the other side. Stopping now would only leave you with a sore cunt and shaking limbs, nothing in comparison to the satisfaction that awaits you. Besides, you trust Lo’ak. He would never intentionally harm you, he’s proven that time and time again. So your lips clamp shut along with your eyes as your body squirms along the woven surface. 

“That’s it, mama. Just let it happen. Fuck, look at how pretty your pussy is like this.” He revels in the squelching sound that accompanies his sliding and curling fingers. The heat of your blush radiates from your in waves with the thick haze of your arousal. It causes his nostrils to flare in order to accommodate more of that sweet scent. It’s driving him up the wall, watching you squirm, whine, and clench around him in the middle of the walkway for anyone to see. Even beneath the slightly chilled salt water, he can feel his dick bursting to break free from the confines of his restricting loincloth. 

Not yet.

There will be time for that soon, but right now he is focused on getting what he came for. 

He can sense the trepidation rolling off of you in waves, even from the clench of your closing legs it’s obvious to see that you are fighting this. 

“C-can’t!” 

“You can and will. I’ll make sure of it.” The forest boy promises. “It’s all in your head, yawne. Just a little mental block you need to break through.” It takes wrestling his broad shoulder between your thighs to pry them open once more. 

“But-”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to me, mama?” The ascent of kisses along your inner thighs is revived once more, plush kisses alternating between heated words of praise and encouragement. “Can’t get enough of you. Five days is way too long, little one. I need a treat.” 

It’s obvious from the way your hips bucks and strangled screeches catch in your throat that you are on the precipice. So close to finally getting what he wants, Lo’ak doubles down on his efforts. Soothing drawls of promises and praise flow from his lips without thought. The little kitten licks he leaves under his working thumb gives him just enough of a sample of the sweet juices he hopes to receive soon. Motivation fueling him forward, Lo’ak massages at that bundle of nerves from both sides until you are trying to kick him away. 

The pleasure is so all consuming that it almost hurts. It feels as if your body may simply shatter into pieces at any moment. 

“I know what you need, mama.” Lo’ak gently guides your kuru braid to the end of the path. Eyes snapping open, a wanton moan leaves your lips as a wordless plea to continue. Begging is unnecessary because Lo’ak manages to swing his own braid over his shoulder and connect the tendrils without delay. 

The instant connection gives you something to fall back onto, something familiar and comforting in this depth of uncharted territory. The bond purrs with pleasure from both sides, but it’s his building anticipation and desire thrumming through the mental connection that has your self control disintegrating. 

Suddenly, without your volition or permission, the muscles in your pelvis tighten and an alarming sense of impending need for release surfaces. You try to cry out and warn him, sputtering some nonsense about needing to pee but Lo’ak hushes those concerns away, drawing on and on about just letting go. It’s not a choice, not a sensation that is in your control. Those spasming muscles tighten until a stream of your juices is squirting outwards. 

Back arched and body tensed, electricity flows through your veins in the form of pure ecstasy, so demanding that it threatens to block out your vision with phantom stars. Lo’ak wastes no time in swooping in. He catches every squirt from your spasming pussy with a undetained urgency. The deep groans and whines that vibrate from his chest almost slide under the radar from your penetrating screams drawing them out. He suckles and feasts on you like a starved man finally offered the luxury of a five star dessert. 

The tips of your nails are digging into his scalp and untwisting his carefully prepared topknot. Lo’ak is too focused on drinking in every ounce of sweet juice squirting from you to care about the fallen hairstyle. He groans and slurps up the addicting juices until broken cries fall from your lips and the stream ends. 

“Thank you, mama” He groans, taking out his fingers and cleaning your drenched pussy thoroughly with his tongue. The weight of your body weighs heavy on you. It’s too much to consider rolling away to protect your sensitive core. 

When he finally takes a breath, lifting his head to lick his fingers, he finds your gaze misted over with a thick haze. He studies the way your soft form is slack and sprawled across the walkway, not the twinkling of a thought present in your beautiful ocean blue eyes. The sun has now risen to paint the village in rays of gold. They dance across your form perfectly, bringing out every beautiful curve that has haunted Lo’ak’s wet dreams for the entirety of the excursion. 

“Such a good girl, baby.” Your overwhelming pleasure still drones over tshayelu and leaves his own cock twitching, but there is an undertone of deep seated trust woven there. You’ve given in and given yourself over. With your luscious curls splayed around your head like a halo, Lo’ak is sure he has never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“Lo…” 

“I know, mama. God I love you so fucking much!” He can’t hold himself back from kissing and exploring every inch of your body. His hands wander greedily to grope and take in every curve of plush flesh and smooth skin painted with those beautiful scribble of stripes. Every inch of explored skin brings you further and further off the edge until you are back in his arms with shaky legs loosely wrapped around his waist. 

“L-love you too, Lo’ak.” His neck is a safe place to rest your heated face. “So much.” 

The night is far from over, his bulge pressing against your stomach still stirs to your remembrance his promise, but he lets the moment sway and settle for a while longer. You're completely pliant and soft in his arms as he cradles you. The soothing pheromones that draft from him are enough to finally set your muscles at ease. Words are hardly needed as you can feel the radiating satisfaction and pride that flows from his end of the bond. 

Proud of himself?

Proud of how he can tear you apart and piece you back together?

Perhaps, but the most overwhelming sentiment that travels is the pride that he feels for you. For the steps you’ve taken today. 

This is the first time you’ve ever squirted, although it has been a goal of the Sully brothers for quite some time now. For the longest time it didn’t seem in the cards for you. Even with their dual efforts, you had never been able to get past that mental block. 

That is…until now. 

Lo’ak takes the bulk of your weight as your legs are doing close to nothing around his waist in this condition. He makes a show of licking his lips and humming in delight, even when you sheepishly hide your face against his neck in response. Strength is finally beginning to seep back into your countenance even as your mind remains offline. The only subjects flashing across the forefront of your mind are the sweet traces of his touch and thrum of satisfaction rippling across the bond. 

It isn't long before more of that sweet honey is gathering between your legs and leaking onto his loincloth. You rut up against him. The silent plea to feel him inside does not go unnoticed. 

You’re startled by a sudden chuckle from Lo’ak. Blinking up at him you recognize that shit-eating grin showing off his smug attitude. 

“What?”

“Just wait till Neteyam finds out.” He laughs with glee as you gasp, weakly trying to hit his chest.

“Don’t you dare!” 

He neither promises to keep it a secret or spare his brother from the knowledge of this milestone belonging to him, but every trace of contention is clear. His disastrous return has been overshadowed by this golden memory. 

As always, I would love to hear y'all's feedback and thoughts <3

taglist: @pandorxxx @pandoraslxna @anonka01 @luvv4j4ybe11 @shadowmoonlight0604 @savvysscandles @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @ethansluv @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @young5643-blog @loaksulluyswife @xylobee @ficmenrhot @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @henhouse-horrors @neteyamtesuli

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 3

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5768

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.

Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”

Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.

“Young mast–”

Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 

“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.

Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.

Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 

I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 

The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.

“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 

The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 

“Wait, you said–”

Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.

She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.

“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.

“N-No, I’m sorry young–”

“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”

The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 

I have to prove myself. 

You couldn’t move. 

“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 

You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 

“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”

Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 

Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 

Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 

“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 

“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”

Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 

No. Not on its own. 

Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 

“So disappointing.”

The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 

I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 

“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”

Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 

“Y/N, can I check your–”

Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 

His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 

Pathetic. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 

“Can I take a shower?”

~

The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 

He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 

You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 

“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.

“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 

“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”

“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 

The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 

‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’

“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.

I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.

“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.

“But, don’t you nee–”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”

~ 

Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.

“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 

“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”

“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.

“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.

“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 

“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”

“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”

His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.

“What the fuck, Law?”

He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.

“Why are–”

His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 

“Law! Why–”

“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”

You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.

“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 

“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.

“Because I am weak.”

The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.

“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  

“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.

You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 

“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 

“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 

“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 

“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”

“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 

“Get over it.”

“Excuse me?”

He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 

“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.

“Do you under–”

Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 

“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’

Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 

“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.

“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”

He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.

“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”

Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.

“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 

‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’

‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’

‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’

“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”

Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 

There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 

It felt like no time had passed. 

Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 

Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 

“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 

“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.

“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 

Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 

The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 

His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 

Oh. 

“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”

You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 

He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?

The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 

And that frown as he pulled away. 

It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 

“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”

He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.

“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 

“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”

“It’s al–”

“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 

“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”

“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.

“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”

Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 

“Let’s go talk about it.”

Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.

“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 

Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 

“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 

“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 

That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.

The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 

“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 

Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–

Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.

No more misty eyes.

You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”

A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 

“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”

“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 

“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”

A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 

“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”

Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.

And you kept your eyes dry.

~🦩🦩🦩~

Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 

“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.

“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”

“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 

Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.

“What’s your report?”

“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”

Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 

“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”

She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 

With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 

I didn’t mind when he touched me.

That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 

“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 

“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 

“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”

Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Did you sleep at all?”

The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.

All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.

Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 

“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”

“Please.”

That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 

But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 

“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 

He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 

But you were so tired. 

And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.

He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 

Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.

“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”

“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 

You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 

“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”

“Shut up.”

A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 

Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 

“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”

“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”

You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 

“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”

He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 

“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”

You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 

“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 

“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”

“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”

He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 

“Law, you–”

“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 

You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 

He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 

His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 

“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”

You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 

His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 

“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.

Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 

He was still touching you even though you were broken.  

“I want you to kiss me.” 

~🖤🖤🖤~

You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 

“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”

Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.

“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”

“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.

“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”

“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 

“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”

You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 

“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 

You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 

“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 

“You’re dumb!”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 

~🖤🖤🖤~

“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”

“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”

He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 

A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”

“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”

Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 

“Ew, gross.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰

Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 4

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[whore-ibly-hot]

OMG SPEAKING OF MARRIAGE honeymoon with Joey or like anyone really what would Fritz honeymoon be like? Like I'd assume they didn't get one cause man's busy

Honey-mooning with Joey would be fairly simple, he'd take you to the inn or motel of one of the slightly larger nearby farming towns, and treat you to all the southern comfort food and hospitality you could want. He'd get you a nice breakfast, and flowers, but in the evening he'd make it very clear that he wants to begin the process of knocking you up. He will back off if you tell him to, but he'll make his intentions known. He just wants you knocked up as quickly as possible, and as much as he wants to enjoy the honeymoon he mostly just wants you back in the farm, acclimating to life with his family and getting settled in. It'll feel all that more real that your truly his once he can wake up in his own bed, with you their everyday.

"I hope you liked dinner, I've never been to that restaurants before, but my chicken was great. Um, darlin'? I know your probably stuffed, but are you too stuffed to work up the energy to go for a roll in the hay with your new husband?"

Fritz wouldn't be able to spend anytime honey mooning with his bride, and as a traditionalist this upsets him. Instead, he'll settle for a very extravagant one night wedding and ceremony away from the small town he's stationed at. He wants to give his bride the luxury you've never been accustomed too. You'll meet all his fellow military officials, and be shown off like one of Fritz medals. That night, he doesn't let you do anything during the consumption of the marriage. He wants to worship you, not the other way around. He will insist on some sort of white lingerie being sent in, as he wants you looking like a bride when he takes you, but he doesn't want to ruin your dress or suit. He asks beforehand if he'll be able to start trying for a baby that evening.

"Being a woman is not enough for a slimy cadet or confident rookie to simply respect you my poor dear, and I am sorry for their behavior. Being an officers bride should help, but we get new soldiers so often on the front lines, they may not know."

"What are you saying?"

"I think it'll be a little more obvious your an officers wife if you're walking around with a little bump next time we go to town. All for your safety, of course."

BONUS!!!: Mattias doesn't have the money for a big wedding or an extravagant honeymoon, but while he may not have the money, he has the spirit to party, and he knows others who do. The entire wedding reception is held as a block party at his mother's home in old Harlem, and the guests are a mix of neighbors and family. Mattias loves his family, and his perfect way to solidify a marriage is to blend you in with them. His biggest regret about the wedding is his father wasn't there to see him get married, so it's also nice for him to be around his Mami at a time like this. He loves how the two of you get along, and the two of them share stories of Mattias's papa, from when he was alive.

Mattias cannot handle it when his sees you playing with his young primos and primas, and the other neighborhood kids. Dancing with them and helping them reach the tinfoil trays to get food onto their plates. This results in him returning back to your apartment and immediately begging to dick you down, and give you a baby.

"Cmon, pretty girl!" He's kissing up on your neck, pulling you out of your reception outfit. "Gotta have you, mi esposa guapa, give you some kids. I've been shaking with nerves and energy all day, and I can't exactly fight it off at a block party. So please-"

"Let's make some hijos..."

[figgrrr0]

Hiii!! I love your writing, especially with Tighnari. He’s one of my favorites, and I love that you write for a dominant reader.

Can you please do a fic (plot) with Tighnari and a female reader who comes to the forest to study fungi, and they bond over being forest nerds? And then, he’s kind of pining for her, and when he confesses he admits he wants her to take charge, because he loves seeing her like that—and she uses a fungus to make him more sensitive when she does?

Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!

Cordyceps mishaps

Character: Sub!Tighnari // Reader: Dom!Afab

Genre: Smut // CW: Handjob, aphrodisiacs, slight teasing, brief masturbation, implied vaginal sex, slight power imbalance (he's your mentor)

Plot: Yes // Word count: 5.5k

When you'd made plans to come to Sumeru, this wasn't how you'd planned your first day to go.

With the climate being much hotter and humid than you were used to, it was understandably hard for you to acclimate to the differences fast enough to be totally comfortable. However, it all would be worth it for the new plant species that you'd get the see, the forests of Sumeru providing a scale of plant life larger than in any of the other nations.

Sure, you had read books about the trees, the flowers, the fungi; but words on paper were never a match for real-world experience. For years, you'd wanted to see them first-hand, to find them in the wild and study them to find your own consensuses. And now, you finally had the chance to do so. The only downside was that, since you didn't know anyone in Sumeru, you'd had no idea what to expect. Or where to go.

Which is how you got yourself lost within the first two hours of finally making it across the border of Liyue.

"Follow the paths." They'd said.

"Follow the paths." You'd repeated to yourself.

But, of course, through the gap between the trees, you'd seen an interesting flash of colour. Perhaps a new plant you'd never seen before? Maybe one from the sketches you'd seen in the books?

You didn't stay on the path.

And, now, half an hour later, you were lost, distressed and disappointed, because there was no flower at all. And from what you could tell, there was no one else around that could help. The silence in the air felt unnatural and precise, as though the forest itself was watching you, waiting on your every move, every thought, every breath. And with dusk not far from falling, you really didn't want to spend your first night here cold, alone and frightened of your surroundings, let alone lost.

... But there was nothing else for you to do. You'd tried turning back the way you'd came, but you still couldn't find the path. Plus, you didn't want to accidentally stay further into the forest. If you had any hope of being found by someone who could help, you had to stay at least close to the paths. Your common sense told you you'd be better off just staying exactly where you were.

Until you got distracted again.

Out of the corner of your eye, half hidden by the shadows cast down upon them by the surrounding trees, lay a patch of small orange mushrooms, all intertwined and reaching outwards in awkward angles. To you, they looked quite familiar... where had you seen them before?

Moving closer, completely focused on trying to identify these strange mushrooms, you pay no mind to the shadow shifting behind you.

From what you'd read in the books, there were no known species of fungi that were dangerous to touch, only causing problems when ingested. Taking mental notes of your findings, you examine them: the unusual slim and long form of the mushrooms set them apart from the common crowd of fungi, looking suspiciously similar to the cattail reeds which grew to the side of rivers and ponds. Putting on some spare gloves to prevent harmful juices or powders getting on your hands, you remove a small mushroom from the cluster, bringing it to your face while maintaining a safe distance and inhaling the scent that it emitted.

Cocoa.

... Well then. These were rare, that much you knew. And they weren't poisonous, either, from what you can remember – though you're hardly going to trust your memory when it comes to a plant you can't remember the name of. But you did remember the properties and effects. They were... interesting, to say the least.

"Cordyceps militaris."

"Agh-?!" You let out a shrill scream, whirling around on your feet and coming face to face with the man who had snuck up on you, an amused smile plastered on his face. Upon realising that he wasn't making any threatening advances towards you, you rest your hand on your chest as you calm down, your panicked breathing evening out.

Even though he clearly felt no shame in sneaking up on you like that and scaring you half to death, he was at least gentlemanly enough to allow you time to recover before he started talking again.

"This fungus is Cordyceps militaris. You should be careful interacting with it if you don't know what you're doing." He then proceeded to lean against a tree to the side, glancing down at the said fungus as if in thought.

"Excuse me? I know perfectly well what I'm doing!" You huffed, crossing your arms. Who was he, anyway? He finds a random girl in the middle of the forest who is obviously not from here, barely any daylight left, and instead of offering to take her somewhere safe, he wants to criticise your mushroom handling skills?!

"Oh, my apologies." He looked back up at you, tail flicking as though he were agitated with you, "I'd assumed that if you knew what you were doing, you would've worn appropriate gloves." He gestured to your hands, a humorous glint in his mischievous eyes.

Confused, you turn your own hands over to inspect them, only to be met with a glaringly obvious hole directly across the palm of the glove. Huh... must've snagged them on a branch at some point.

Embarrassed and left with little argument, you settle for staying silent, admitting defeat before you were further humiliated. It wasn't that bad, really. You just got caught out being a bit careless.

"...Anyway, mind handing that over?" He points to the small mushroom still held between your fingers, holding out a small pouch for you to place it into. Wordlessly, you drop it into the bag, stepping back upon doing so to create some more distance between you. "For a newcomer, you sure do know how to pick a good sample instead of just breaking it off at the base."

"I studied in some of the other nations, but Sumeru's variety was much more appealing. I thought I'd learn faster if there was more to see and do."

"I see. If I may, I think you made a good choice. Sumeru has lots to offer for both academics and plant life." He reaches out to take your hand, his gaze softening to be more friendly. "I'm Tighnari, Forest Watcher."

You hesitate slightly before placing your hand in his. "Y/N."

"Well then, Y/N, seeing as it's getting dark and you've been stumbling around the forest for the better half of an hour, what would you say to me taking you back to our main outpost? It's not much warmer, but the people there are friendlier than anything you'll come across in the wild late at night."

"...I'd say that I'd appreciate that very much, Forest Watcher Tighnari."

And so, without another word, you follow him to Gandharva Ville, where you stay for the night.

...

Tighnari couldn't believe how far you'd come in such short time. When you'd told him about your previous meticulous studies on wildlife –particularly plants and fungi – of course he'd believed you. He'd seen your proficiency that very same night that you met, discarding the... incident... with the gloves. Though he did still bring it up every now and then, just to keep you on your toes. He loved to see how flustered you'd get when he mentioned it, the little pout accompanied by the scowl you'd shoot him before the full sentence had even left his smiling lips making all of your sneaky little revenge plots well worth it.

However, that thought process had brought to mind the very serious problem that had been plaguing his mind as of late – or, really, since he had met you.

His feelings for you.

How passionate you were about learning the ways of the forest. How determined you were to improve at the job and impress the people around you (himself included). Even the way you held the other Rangers accountable for their mistakes, scolding them with no remorse, only to soften as you carefully explain the correct conduct, guiding them through with a gentle yet stern voice. He loved to see it.

He'd never say it out loud, except to himself, that your harsh words and strict voice had caused him to grow hot under the collar on quite a few instances. Even if he was just barely in earshot, he'd have to scurry away before you rounded the corner to see his blushing face, heading straight to his own quarters to... ahem... "make himself presentable."

At least, that was what he'd always said upon being asked, but it never made sense to you. He looked the exact same every time he came back! What could he possibly be doing in there that was so important?!

He hoped you wouldn't find out... not before he revealed the truth – well- half of it – tonight, resigning himself to whatever fate you had in store for his highly strung heart.

It had to be tonight. He couldn't drag this out for any longer.

...

One book; two books; three books; four. All stacked relatively neatly atop each other, placed next to a quill pen and subsequent pot of black ink.

Once a week, you meet up with Tighnari to go over all of your recent notes: mainly focused on any incidents or warning signs you find out in the field and comparing your new notes on the fauna with previous ones. This helped to tell if any differences were arising with the locale, and it made clear the progress you were making when it came to your studies on the plants.

Considering you were usually a bit later than agreed upon, Tighnari knew that he'd have a spare few minutes to prepare himself for your arrival. Perfect. His nerves had been catching up to him all day since he'd decided to finally talk to you about his feelings tonight. His hands were shaking, his tail stiff between his legs and his breath was hard to catch. Tighnari paced back and forth through the room, rethinking his plans as he straightened out his hair, which had gotten ruffled from his continuous gripping and pulling.

This wasn't like him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this affected by someone. But... he was officially your mentor... was it wrong for him to have feelings for you of this nature? He'd rifled through his thoughts too many times to count, arguing with himself about how inappropriate it was for him to act like this around you, to think of you in this way, but all he could ever come away with was hardly comforting to his confused mind.

You were mostly on par with his own knowledge on the ecosystem, having almost completely caught up with him due to how eager you were and how often you insisted on having these meetings. It wasn't as if he were at much of a higher level than you, nor were your ages out of balance. Really, you were both the same. It was just the job title itself that separated the two of you and made him cast some doubt on himself.

However, the situation wasn't as big a deal as Tighnari's mind made it out to be. He knew it wasn't.

The other Forest Rangers and Watchers murmured and gossiped about the two of you near daily, that much he knew. They weren't very subtle, and they did know of his heightened hearing, so surely they didn't care if he heard or not? But... what if...-

Tighnari stood stock still in the middle of the floor.

What if they were all letting him hear on purpose to push him into confessing?

His face reddened slightly as he overthought every little interaction he could remember between the two of you, where the other Rangers had been able to see. Had he been too obvious all along?! Did you already know and by confessing tonight he would just make a fool of himself?!

*Knock, knock*

Tighnari sighed, his ears falling flat to the sides of his head as he tried to push the tension from his shoulders and creased brow.

He couldn't tell you.

...

Already, it was half way through the night. The candles he had set through the room had slowly dwindled until barely three remained alight: the first, on a shelf behind you, giving the perfect backdrop of warmth for him to see you in from his seat across the table. The second, on a counter to the side, directly between both of you, illuminating the profiles of his and your faces. The third, on the table you're both sitting at, on the far end at a safe distance from all the vulnerable paper, but close enough that it prevents your shadow from obscuring your vision of the paper in front of you.

When the final candle melted down to the last of the wick, you took it as your que to leave. It symbolised the night coming to an end, and really, by the time the candles had burned all the way down, you were too tired to continue. What Tighnari had hoped you didn't notice, was that throughout his year with you, he had been slowly introducing new candles to his home, until now, there were almost double the amount he'd started with.

You had noticed.

Currently, only a few note sheets remained to check through. You carded through them, rearranging the ones you'd already read into a neater pile, before picking up your quill and sprawling some more notes onto the paper on the table in front of you.

Tighnari watched as you wrote, your handwriting had slowly descended over time as you got more and more tired through the evening. At this point, I was messy and scratchy, and half of the page didn't match the other half. From where he was sitting, he couldn't read what you were writing. He knew for a fact that you wouldn't have a clue in the morning, either. But he didn't tell you, because you always came to see him again for further clarification. That, and he thought it was cute.

Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, gaze caught on the movements of your pen, a flicker behind you caught his eye. When he looked up, his eyes finding the candle at the back of the room, the flame drew its last breath, dying out not even two seconds later.

His eyes catch on the scene, watching as the final drops of wax drip down the side of the candle –or what is left of it, at least. The room behind you has been swallowed by shadows, only a faint glow from the remaining two reaching across the floor. But when he drags his eyes back to you, you haven't even noticed, completely transfixed by your notes.

The quiet scratching of the quill against parchment lulls the both of you into a serene silence, feeling no need for conversation, just enjoying each other's presence. Even though he'd started the evening feeling more anxious than he felt he'd ever been, by now, Tighnari was completely comfortable and content to share his space with you. He's glad you feel safe in his company, too.

Waiting, in case you need any help with the papers, Tighnari gazes upon your candle-lit face. Your hair falls around you messily from the night of work, your mindless movements and adjustments making you look ruffled in the best possible way. The shadows of the room lay across your face, contrasting with the low glow of the candle light. It makes you look ethereal in his eyes, as if you would disappear should he close his eyes for too long... or maybe that's just the exhaustion from the day leaving its impression on his eyes. Either way, it left you looking nothing less than gorgeous in that very moment.

Off to the side, the candle on the counter slowly extinguishes itself, though neither you nor him take any notice. The candle left on the table casts enough light for you to still see your paper. Tighnari, so mesmerised by your peaceful countenance, takes no notice because of the sudden lack of warmth colouring your cheek, but instead because of how the waning in competition between the two flames allowed the one that won to reflect brighter in your eyes.

The spark glints and glitters in the shadows around your eyes, like a field of fireflies against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Tighnari leans forward in his seat, the play of the light inviting him to get a closer look. The rustling of his clothing against his seat disrupts the stream of your focus, and you look up to see what he's doing.

Finally looking into your eyes, having your focus entirely on him...

He has to tell you.

...

(Not the actual smut yet but there's a little bit here. Idk... be warned)

Tighnari's back meets the table, his hands coming behind himself to steady his balance. Your body is slotted against his own, keeping him tight to the wooden surface with no option to move away. His tongue eagerly meets yours, lips opening wider upon your prompting. With his eyes closed, it's so much easier for him to take in everything about you; to just feel the effects you have on him.

His sensitive ears pick up on every noise in the room around you. Your breaths, mixing in the short space between your intertwined lips, the slight creaking of the wood beneath his body weight... it all sends a shiver down his back, an itch being scratched by the tingling just within his ears, the odd sensation making his head fuzzy and clouding his senses further.

His heightened sense of smell relishes in the newfound closeness of your body, his careful and unsure hands coming to rest against your waist. His uncertainty is reassured when your own hands, smaller than his own, though surer in their actions, come to press his tighter to your body, his nails digging in at the display of your want for him. Like this, your scent swirls around him, giving him no choice but to get drunk of the essence of you that sticks to his clothes. Suddenly, his cheeks heat a deep shade of red – deeper than they'd already been just from the warmth of your body against his – knowing that the smell of you will cling even to the pages of paper that you'd held between your fingers just minutes before for days to come.

Lost in his thoughts, Tighnari separates from your kiss with a gasp, his eyes rolling back when your leg presses into the bulge between his thighs, already hard and twitching against you. A drop of spit slips from the corner of his mouth, glinting in the remaining candle light as his thighs clench around the one you pressed against him. Grinding insistently and slow, you draw low groans from his open mouth. You quickly take place with your head in the crook of his neck, nosing and kissing along the surface that becomes available to you when Tighnari stretches his head to the side, giving you complete access to his most vulnerable points. You take advantage of the opportunity presented before you, taking the skin between your teeth and nipping until he whines and presses himself further into your hold on his neck.

He wants the pain. Wants to be bitten, to be marked. He wants everyone to look at him and know that he's been claimed by you.

But you won't give it to him. Not yet.

While his tongue flicks over his bottom lip to collect the mess of your combined spit, he looks into your eyes, the difference between each other immediately apparent:

Tighnari, eyes wide and dark, pupils dilated while he tried to commit the way you're looking at him to memory.

You, leaning over him as you push him down against the table, lidded eyes boring into his own with a passion that would make him fold to your every command.

You're leaning forward then, intending to continue exploring and taking the moment further, when–

The last candle flickers out, and darkness falls upon the room – encasing you both within.

It feels as though someone had walked in on the both of you, rudely unannounced and uncaring of the moment they'd ruined. You both stood stock still, completely frozen as you took in the sudden contrast (as little as it was, considering it was only one candle). It brings the both of you back to the present, clearing the haze that had befallen your minds as you take in the compromising position you'd gotten yourselves into. Panting and flushed, rumpled clothing and tangled limbs, crumpled paper and ink knocked over; how had your study session, professional and calm, turned to this?

Hesitantly, being careful not to bump into anything, you take a step back. You look away, despite the fact that it would take another few minutes for your eyes to adjust enough to see the other, and clear your throat, clearly feeling awkward.

Tighnari straightens himself out too, no longer leaning on the desk as he allows himself to wait for your next move. His ears point forward, zeroing-in on your spiking heart rate.

"...Well then... I suppose I'd best get going. Long day of work ahead tomorrow, right?" You're cut off before you can continue, a yawn pushing through your lips before you can stifle it. Despite his disappointment, Tighnari can't help but look at you endearingly. "Or today, I guess?"

"...That seems more like it, yes."

You let out what seems to be a content sigh, turning to head towards the door, still in complete darkness. Tighnari moves with you, going to your side to prevent you from walking into anything. He even opens the door for you and allows you to pass through.

"Thank you for tonight, mentor Tighnari~ I really learned a lot!" Just from the tone of your voice, he can tell that you're purposefully trying to make him embarrassed. After all, you must've noticed his discomfort every time you called him that through the past year, and you'd definitely put the pieces together after his confession. "I'll meet you here again tomorrow night."

And then, the door shuts behind her before he can even start to think of a response. He stands in the darkness of his own doorway for a few long minutes, going over the events of the night. Eventually, he lights another candle, deciding to leave the mess on the table for tomorrow... or later today, he guesses.

The enticing scent of you dances on the air in his room, smothering him and pulling him further into his growing need for you.

That night, Tighnari goes to bed later than usual; his hand fisted tight around the base of his swollen cock, and the other pressing painfully into the mark you'd left on his neck, already bruised and aching. His mind retraces the silhouette that you left imprinted in the shadows of his room, playing the scene over and over again behind his dilated eyes, wondering what would have happened if your time together hadn't been cut short.

At least, now, he can rest easy, knowing that his time truly being yours was soon to begin.

...

That day, work just seemed to drag on and on and on...

The job that usually captivated Tighnari's attention only kept him from you for longer. The co-workers and lower-ranking rangers, whose presence he didn't mind so much as others, even they couldn't stop him from wanting to get away from it all. Tighnari grinded his teeth, looking out at the sky, just waiting for the sun to hurry up and make way for the moon to rise.

It didn't help that every time he'd see you, you'd shoot him a teasing wink accompanied by a sly smirk, only to leave without a word... At this rate, with how you were both acting around each other, it wouldn't be long until gossip starts to spread through the camp.

That's why, when Tighnari finally gets you into his room later that night, he couldn't possibly be more relieved, shutting out the rest of the world behind that door and instantly forgetting about everything but you.

No words are exchanged as you direct him over to his own bed with just a look, following close behind and pushing him to sit down upon arrival. Tighnari faces you, then, feeling the urge to shrink in on himself when he sees you towering over him, the light from freshly-lit candles flashing in his peripheral like the stars that he knows are just outside. Only, this time, the candles will last much longer than usual, and even if they do go out, there's no way either of you will be stopping. Not tonight – and probably not any other night after this.

From behind your back, you reveal a small bowl cupped perfectly in the palm of your hand, part of the mortar and pestle kit he'd gifted you early on into your partnership. Inside lays a fine paste, brown in colour, with that distinct scent that always reminds him of your first fateful encounter:

Cocoa.

Tighnari gulps. His tail gives away his excitement, thumping erratically against the bed behind him, and you have to stifle a laugh at the display, as well as the embarrassed smile that tugs at his lips.

"And you..." His head tilts inquisitively as he once again inhales the sweet scent, "You're sure you know what this is? You're absolutely certain you remember?"

You show a mischievous smirk. "Cordyceps militaris."

Damn... using his own words against him... that's just plain cruel! Though that is a large part of what drew him towards you... But Cordyceps are a natural stamina enhancer! Why would you need to use them this late at night? You'd already made it very obvious that you wouldn't be studying tonight. And he's a fox! He has plenty of energy to do... that... without the added aid of an energy booster–

Ohhh...

Tighnari's eyes darken upon realising your plan.

They're also a natural aphrodisiac...

You sidle closer, moving to straddle him upon the bed, your thighs on either side of his own. Tighnari shuffles further onto the bed to make space for you, silently welcoming your presence. Distantly, he notices you putting the mortar bowl off to his side, but he's much more interested in whatever you're reaching into the pouch you set beside it for.

He doesn't have to wait long, your hand displaying an orange mushroom, long and thin, before you take it between your fingers and cup his cheeks with both hands. Your thumb slides against his bottom lip, and Tighnari automatically lets his mouth fall open without a second thought. You share eye contact, dilated pupils showing the love and respect you have for each other, among other things, while you slowly push the small piece of raw mushroom onto his waiting tongue.

He bites down instantly. It's un-needed, really. He'd feel the effects of the Cordyceps after ingestion, regardless of how it was done; but he wanted the full experience of being with you. He wanted to know everything that you had in store for him.

That doesn't mean he enjoys the burst of salt that assaults his taste buds, or the nutty after taste, but he knows that what will come after is worth it.

He must've made a disgusted face, the twinkle in your eyes and amused expression showing that you'd expected his reaction. "How is it? As good as you'd imagined?" You ask, a laugh on the cusp of your lips.

He swallows down, the saltiness drying up his mouth and making his salivary glands overcompensate. "Bitter."

You move on, pulling him into a kiss as your hands tugged at his clothes, slowly removing them and letting them fall haphazardly onto the floor. You pull away briefly to breathe out, "Effects should start in about 10 minutes," before you take his tongue into your mouth once more, hands running over his skin as more of his body is revealed to you. Suddenly, you quickly move away, reaching for the mortar. "Think you can wait that long?"

Tighnari huffs, looking annoyed that you keep depriving him of your kiss to speak more – even if he did previously encourage your teasing. "Seems to me that you're the one that has to worry about waiting. I wonder how long you've been planning this?" You ignore him, removing the last layers of his clothing until his cock, already half hard, is revealed to your hungry gaze. You take him into your hand, stroking him as he hardens further under your touch. "Look at you, you can't even keep your hands off me~" The Cordyceps must've been starting to work, beads of sweat beginning to form on his flushed skin proving that he was not as unaffected as he showed.

At this, you look up, an unimpressed expression on your face. "When this kicks in you'll be desperate for my touch. You'll be begging and writhing in the sheets of your own bed, all with the risk of me leaving you alone to try and deal with it yourself."

That manages to shut him up, his eyes widening with the threat in your tone. The expectant silence urges you to move, scooping a dollop of the brown Cordyceps paste from the bowl and lathering it over your palms.

Tighnari's breath hitches when you take his dick in your hand again, the coating feeling odd against the sensitive skin. Already being room temperature, the mixture warms quickly between your fingers, soon becoming pleasurable and aiding the slide of your hand. Meanwhile, your other hand spreads the paste across his inner thighs, working it into the skin.

Soon, Tighnari is showing more and more symptoms brought on by the mushroom, his eyes clouding and breaths coming shorter and more laboured. His eyes clench shut and he flinches when you nip the soft plush of his thighs, the pain blurring into bliss by the time the shocks make it to his brain. He's too overcome to make much noise, only small hums breaking through the silence, except for the slick noises coming from below.

He's starting to feel unusually hot where the mixture touches him, the sensation gradually growing as you continue your ministrations, but he doesn't speak up, doesn't complain. Because, the longer he puts up with this... the better it feels. The warmth on his cock, on his thighs, and even the occasional drop that had splattered up to his navel on the downward 'slap' of your hand, it all multiplied the pleasure he was feeling. It kept building and building, overwhelming him the longer it lasted.

Every time Tighnari thought he was going to cum, thought that it couldn't possibly get any more intense, the constricting heat in his loins would double, his muscles getting impossibly tighter, until–

He came, suddenly and without warning, pushing into your hand. His cum spouted from the slit, dribbling over to meet the brown paste, leaving a sticky mix of brown and white to pool at the base of his cock, like paint dripping down a fresh canvas. The picture he paints is lewd to the very meaning of the word.

Having to focus all of his energy into collecting his ragged breaths, he holds onto you with an arm thrown over your shoulder, relying on you to keep him up. Of course, it wouldn't be a problem were he to fall, the welcoming and familiar pillows obviously being cushioned enough to break the landing. But it's so... cute, so endearing, to see Tighnari, the Head Forest Watcher, completely reliant on you to take care of him during the most vulnerable moment you've witnessed him in to date.

Broken from his reverie, Tighnari stirs in your hold, his eyes lighting excitedly at the rejuvenated energy he feels running through his veins. His cock, still messy and lewd from his orgasm, hasn't gone down, only growing harder as the Cordyceps that he'd eaten finally takes its full hold on his mind.

He thrusts up into your hand that still encases his cock, whimpering when you lift yourself up and line him up with your hole, already wet from the high of seeing what a needy heap you'd reduced him to. Looking down at the sight with lust-fueled awe, he's only pulled away when your hand grips his chin, making him look up at you. His tail starts wagging again when he sees the dangerous look in your eyes and the hint of your teeth when your lips pull back into a mocking sneer.

"You're not gonna stop cumming until I've milked you dry... we've gotta get that aphrodisiac out of your system, right, mentor?"

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

[sidetongue]

You know who I have an issue with? Her.

THIS LITTLE GIRL RIGHT HERE.

I’m staying in a city that’s a 3 hour drive away (to finish college, my bf just moved to relocate to work so he has our kitties) and I get woken up at 8am (I had only fallen asleep around 4am thanks to a stink bug that thought MY FACE was a great place to climb at 3am) by my boyfriend calling me saying she fell behind the water heater and was literally face down, ass up, and he didn’t know how long she’d been there for.

Part of this is the bf’s fault because I told him he needed to set the kitties up in the bedroom to get them acclimated and what did he do? Not that, and he didn’t close the door to the laundry room so, ya know.

I spent two hours calling management at the apartment only to get no answer, emergency maintenance only to have a guy come out, see the situation and leave after saying “I don’t save cats”, the fire station TRIED to help by redirecting me to the dispatch but then I got sent to voicemail, and when I called 911 the dispatcher essentially told me to fuck off because she said in the RUDEST tone I’ve ever heard, “yea, the police aren’t coming out for that and neither is the fire station so you can just figure it out or get her to come out on her own” completely ignoring the fact that I’d already told her she couldn’t get out on her own and the fire station wouldn’t have to force entry because my bf was there trying to get help! And then she hung up on me so I bawled my eyes out and screamed because I thought my cat, my ESA, my cat soulmate was going to die and I wasn’t even there, and there was nothing I could do to help her 🙃 oh, and bf had also been calling around and being told to fuck off, so 😌🥰 love that for me!

My bf was FINALLY able to get her out but he had a friend helping him and they had to use a gripper tool to move her around because she was so far down that she couldn’t move herself.

Anyways I’m venting about it here because I know you care about animals and I just can’t believe that every single place I went to for help said “not my job” and it’s really upsetting that THAT’S the state of the US. People joke all the time that animals get more care than humans do here but with this situation it really shows they just don’t care either way. Do they have any kinds of services made specifically for helping animals in those kinds of situations in Australia?

Another picture for the road 💕

I’m sorry for the horrifically delayed reply but WOW what a terrifying ordeal! I would be a hot mess if any of my pets were stuck and I was helpless to get them out. I’m so glad it worked out okay for your kitty. I think in Aus l, depending on which town/city, rspca can help in situations like this - even Afterhours. I hope your little friend has been extra good to make up for the panic she caused!

[after-witch]

Do No Harm [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Do No Harm [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Follow up to Doctor Doctor. Overhaul is insistent on “exposure therapy” to help you get over your fear of needles and his medical treatments. 

Word Count: 3024

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, medical abuse, usage of needles and medical tests, slight infantilization

The air in the clinic room is stale and the examination table is cold, seeping into your skin through the thin hospital gown that you’re currently wearing. It’s a step up from the scratchy paper gowns you were wearing before, but far below the luxurious, frilly nightgowns you’re used to sporting in your bedroom. 

On the other side of the room, Overhaul is bent over a small work table, writing something down in a chart. It’s a common enough sight nowadays. He writes in charts. He organizes your medicine. 

He fills syringes and sets them in drawers that close with resounding clangs that make your body shake. He changes his gloves, his mask, washes his hands. A terrible routine that you wish you could shake.

“I want to go to my room.”

Your voice sounds louder than it should be, in the small room. The walls are just about bare, containing only a few medical charts that your captor consults from time to time. 

“I know,” he says, moderately, not looking up from the current chart. 

Your fingers grip the thin fabric of your nightgown. Your arm hurts. There’s bruising on it, from where he took blood. From where he gave you shots. He tsks at the bruises, but remarks that they can’t be helped. You have such fragile skin, after all. 

You try again. 

“I don’t like it here.”

“Of course not.” Again, he doesn’t even look up at you. The light scratching of the pen is unnerving. The sound is grating, like everything in this room. The scratching of a pen. The ticking of the clock on the wall. The hum of machines. 

You shift on the bed, bringing your legs up and crossing them. It doesn’t make you feel any warmer. Nothing will, except leaving this stale, sterile place. 

“I want to go to my room.” You pause. “Please,” you add, pitifully, as if it will help. You know it won’t. But something like hope flutters in your stupid chest, even before he answers with that same patronizing tone. 

“You said that already, dearest.”

Frustrated tears prick at your eyes. 

“Why can’t I go to my room already?”

He doesn’t answer, and you know better than to press. Instead, you curl up further, laying down on the exam table and pressing your tear-stained cheeks on the hospital-issue pillow. 

You drift off fitfully, listening to the scratching of the pen. You know that when you wake up, there will be more tests, more charts, more needles… 

--

That night, you practically melt into your bed, feeling for all the world like a princess in your real nightgown with your real blankets and real pillows surrounding you. It feels like bliss, truly, to get away from that small room and its terrible things. Your bandage-covered arms ache and your nose is stuffy from crying, but, at least it’s over. For tonight. 

In the morning, he’ll bring you back there for another round of treatment. Exposure therapy, he calls it. You have a plethora of other words that you think fit the experience much better, but you keep them to yourself, tucked inside your lips. 

As Overhaul brings a blanket up your body, tucking you in for the night, he speaks. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll be making some adjustments to our clinic time.” His eyes crinkle, and you imagine his smile behind his mask. “It will help you acclimate sooner, if my estimations are correct. And they always are '' he adds, almost kindly, as if to reassure you. 

Your arm wraps around your stuffed rabbit. A prize you got for being good, a few months ago. It’s not the same as having your childhood stuffed animals, the ones you’d brought with you from apartment to apartment even in adulthood, but it’s comforting, all the same. 

“What… adjustments?”

He presses a light kiss to your forehead.

”You’ll see.”

--

There’s something different about the next morning. It takes you a while, as your supervised routine gets underway, to realize what it is. 

The feeling in the air--anticipation. From Overhaul. From you. Wondering what, exactly, he meant by “adjustments” to your treatment. More needles? Less? Was he going to be sedating you again? You brushed your teeth (under supervision) and dressed back into the hospital gown (under supervision, but at least he turned away) and when all is said and done, you follow him with your nerves feeling icy into the clinic room.

You don’t see any differences, at first. 

Until you look at the exam table.

Oh.

Instead of being covered in only a thin sheet of scratchy paper that gets changed out after every exam, one of your blankets is folded up on the end, waiting for you like a dutiful dog. And there’s a side table shoved up against the wall, with some of your things on it. Some sheets of paper. A color book. Your colored pencils. A book you were currently reading.

You shift on your feet, and look at Overhaul questioningly. 

“I brought some of your things,” he says, patiently, as if you didn’t see him. “To make you more comfortable.” He sighs a little as he eyes the few personal objects he’s carried over from your bedroom. “We’ll have to keep them clean, of course. But it’s worth the effort, don’t you think?”

Your arm crosses over your chest protectively. 

“I don’t think having my color books is going to make it easier to be in here.” Your words are mumbled.  You try not to sound ungrateful, because it’s clear that this is a big concession on his part. Your personal items, in his sterile clinic room? My, my, my… but all you can think about is what else is in this room. The needles. The scalpels. The beeping machines and the white, stark walls and the cold tiles under your socked feet. 

His eyes regard you, a bit dully. You wonder if he’s frowning.

“It won’t help if you’re already set on believing it won’t.” He gestures towards the table and walks off to one of the many cabinets lining the walls. Inside are boxes of medical gloves. He peels off his current pair and snaps on fresh ones. The sound makes you wince. “I know what’s best for you. Trust me.”

You wish you could, despite everything. You really do. It might make it easier to deal with all this. 

He pulls open the middle drawer, and you swallow down a sigh. It’s the least terrifying drawer in the cabinet. It’s got his stethoscopes, and blood pressure cuffs, and that little hammer-thing he taps on your knee to see how your reflexes are. Those things are okay. Not great. But okay.

“We’ll start with your vitals. That’s not so hard, is it?”

You shake your head, and wish he would stop at things like checking your pulse and blood pressure. But he never does.

--

You’re drawing, now. Legs tucked underneath the table, your blanket wrapped around them, keeping some of the exam table’s cold at bay. Not completely, but enough to be a little bit comforting.

You like to draw. But right now, it feels empty and hollow. And a little bit scary. It hurts to bend your arm.  You told Kai this, but he merely clucked his tongue in a sympathetic little manner and gave you an ice pack. You’d rather he stopped poking you with needles.

“Kai?” You ask, idly doodling on the paper, your original drawing intention now long forgotten.

“Hm?” He’s writing again. Comparing charts and notes. When will he be satisfied? His goal, he said, was to make you unafraid of the doctors. But you’ll never stop being afraid of needles. Of this room. Of him, when he snaps on those medical gloves and insists on sticking you with syringes or inserting tubes into your veins to fill vials of blood.

“Can I… change into my regular clothes, today?” It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Because he let you have this blanket. He let you have your colored pencils, and your empty pages. Why not your normal outfits? 

He sighs--you wonder if he’s tired, or annoyed, and give up on trying to tell--and stands up.

“Not today.”

The end of your colored pencil breaks. You chew on your lip. He’ll have to sharpen it. He doesn’t let you have your own sharpener.

“Why?” You don’t look up, because if you do, you might see what he’s doing. And you want to put that off as long as you can, because--

But the sound of a cabinet drawer opening destroys your attempt at ignorance. It’s a very specific sound. Middle cabinet. Top drawer. It sticks a little, and it’s weightier than the others, and inside that drawer was…

The colored pencil in your head drops and you look up, lip trembling.

“No,” you whimper. “No more, not today. Please.” He doesn’t answer you, merely inclines his head towards you, eyes sweeping over you with what must amount to terrible pity on his part. 

“I know,” he drawls, almost cooing. “It’s difficult. But you need your medicine. You need your treatment.” He pauses, and then pulls out a syringe filled with a light colored liquid that fills you with the urge to sweep your table aside and make a run for it.

“This will help you stay calm,” he says. His voice is thick, like honey. “Just stay still for this one, won’t you?”

He takes slow steps toward you. He always does. Like you’re an animal ready to bolt. And maybe it’s an apt description.

“Please,” you manage, despite the tightness in your throat, the adrenaline thrumming through your veins. “Anything else.” Your eyes dart around the room, looking for a substitute. “Check my blood pressure. My heart rate.” There’s a machine pushed in the corner, unused since last week. “We can do a heart test again, okay? The one I hated?” Your words come out stumbling, fast, desperate. “Let’s do that, I can do that, I’m brave enough for that.” 

“I will check your heart rate, and your blood pressure. After your shot.” 

Another step closer.

Your body shifts on the bed. You eye the door, closed--but unlocked. 

He says your name. Just once. And it’s a warning. Not a mean one, but cold and practical. Don’t run, that warning says. Because you won’t like the consequences.

Just as you muster what amounts to the courage necessary to run--but to where, in the end?--his hand wraps around your wrist and it’s not trouble for him to strap it down to the examination table. Once the strap is secured, the fight melts out of your body, and you simply cry and cry as he works his way around the table, securing your other wrist, and then your legs.

He deftly moves your table, your papers, your pencils, back out of the way.

Before, you would have kicked. And screamed. But now you simply feel the helplessness weigh you down, making you pitiful and useless. All you can do is stare at his gloved hand, still holding the syringe with a sedative in it.

He beams down at you. You can’t see his smile, of course, but there are those tell-tale wrinkles around his eyes.

“You’re doing so well, dear. You didn’t struggle that time. That’s progress from before, isn’t it?” He flicks the needle and a bit of liquid flies into the air. 

“Don’t,” you plead, between clacking, clenched teeth. “Wait, please, wait-wait-wait--” The pillow underneath you, covered in plastic, crinkles as your head shakes uselessly. Your breath comes out of you short and shallow as you fight to stay calm, fight for some kind of escape. 

He doesn’t wait. Instead, you feel the quick swipe, the sting of alcohol in your nostrils, and then there is the dull pain from the needle sliding underneath your skin. The sedative is warm and burns a bit, like drinking a shot of whisky but directly into your veins. It’s not comfortable at first, but as it spreads throughout your system, your limbs grow drowsy and pleasantly tingly.

“There we are,” he murmurs, when your frantic breath becomes slow and steady. When your head stops shaking back and forth, and you simply turn, slowly, to watch as he slides over a tray of prepared needles and syringes.

Some are for shots. Some are for taking blood. 

You whimper. The sound is low and loud in your ears, as if it’s echoing off your skull.

“Now, now,” he says, fingers dancing over the tools as he decides which one should be first. “The more you can take, the sooner we’ll see results. And the sooner we see results, the sooner we can get back to routine. Won’t that be nice?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer. Words will be too heavy, like your limbs. So you watch, eyes lidded, as he walks over to the corner and fiddles with something.

Soon enough, music begins to play. He turned on the radio. Your favorite station, in fact. Light, fun pop songs that help you get in a better mood. 

It’s nice to hear the song. But it’s not nice to be here. 

It’s nice to have your blanket. But it’s not nice to have it on this table, where you’re strapped down.

More things you like, shoved into this room you hate with every single ounce of your being. It’s all so confusing, swirling, heavy breaths--you don’t know what to think or do. 

You’re so focused on this distinct confusion that you don’t even notice the first of the shots going in. You do register, through the pain, through the fear that’s clawing its way through the heavy molasses surrounding your body, that it went in just as your favorite part of the song started.

It’s not fair.

None of this is.

“Please.” Your words feel like syrup. You wonder if you’re slurring, or if it’s just your own perception, warped by the sedative. “Please no more.”

But there will be more, because he had a whole tray, didn’t he? There will always be more needles. And tests and charts and disapproving hums as he tries to make you into whatever he wants you to be. 

Tears slide down your face as you stare at the ceiling. A gloved hand moves into sight, resting on your sweaty forehead. 

“You’re being so brave.”

When he pulls his hand away, he peels the glove off, and replaces it with a fresh one. It snaps. You hate that sound.

--

After the needles, he lets you rest. Mostly. He still takes his measurements. Your height and weight and blood pressure, that sort of thing. And throughout the day, he plays your favorite music, brings another blanket from your room. He even hands off the stuffed animal you’d earned for your bed. 

It’s… nice. You hate this room. But it’s nice to hold your rabbit and to keep your legs warm, and let yourself drift off into the music while you draw. 

The clock on the wall goes too slowly for your liking, but eventually, it’s bedtime. And you could practically sing in happiness as you hop off the exam table and stand at the door, rabbit in one hand, blanket in the other. The blanket is soft, almost soothing against the bruises and sore spots on your arm. 

Kai looks up from the chart he’s making some last-minute notations in.

“What are you doing, angel?”

You beam. “I’m waiting to go to bed.”

You point to the old fashioned clock on the wall. Maybe he wasn’t keeping track of time. 

There’s crinkles around his eyes. He’s smiling.

“How sweet. But we’re doing something different tonight.”

The rabbit in your hand is squished from the force of your fingers, tense and terrified. Different. Different is not good. The past few days… weeks… have proven that immensely.

“What do you mean, different?” 

And the knowledge slowly comes--the knowledge of what he is going to say. It all makes sense, when you put it together. The blankets. The music. The soft rabbit in your hand. But you pretend not to know, just for a few moments longer.

“You’ll be sleeping in here tonight.”

There’s a sob bubbling up inside you before you can recognize it, and it comes out with your words, tight and weepy.

“I can’t. It’s not--it’s not…” Words tickle at your lips. Not what? Not right? Not fair? “It’s--not comfortable.” Kai doesn’t care about right or fair. But he does care about your comfort… sometimes. 

He coos, and it makes your stomach clench. 

“I’ll be bringing a mattress pad for the table. Don’t worry about that.” He tilts his head a little, considering. “It won’t be as comfortable as your bed. But it will be fine to use until your treatment is done.” 

He stands, and you only cling tighter to your things. 

“I want to sleep in my bed.” There’s a pout in your words, a foot stomp, the promise of a tantrum. 

“And you will, when I say so.” He regards you with a stern look that makes whatever poutiness at the unfairness of it all drop to the floor. “Are you going to be good while I get the mattress pad?” There’s a glint in his eyes, yes. Sharp and cold, like a syringe.

You clutch your rabbit, stare at the floor, and nod.

--

You’re led back into the clinic room after your teeth are brushed, your face is washed, and you're dressed in a nightgown that he picked out just for you. 

The mattress pad does a little to disguise the hardness of the exam table, but not much. You curl up on it and let yourself be tucked in, keeping the thinnest of pouts on your face. You have to shift a while to get comfortable, especially considering all the soreness and stiffness in your arms today.

“This is torture,” you mumble. And you’re not just talking about the uncomfortable medical-table-turned-bed. 

Overhaul leans over you, mask pulled down for the quickest of moments, and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“If you say so, dearest.” 

[kyuuin9in]

Some Douma Relationship Headcanons

A/N: I needed to get this out of my system cause I’m positively bonkers for this man lsfjfkls- not proof read! Teeth-rotting fluffy SFW content cause I’m a hopeless simp.

Douma needs a darling who will understand his emotional disability and ‘play along’ with his efforts of mimicking emotions. He knows he cannot feel anything, but he’s trying his best! That should count for something, right?

Whoever his darling is, they know he’s a demon. Whilst he could try and cover it up for as long as possible, at some point he’d need to reveal the truth – he doesn’t want another Kotoha incident, after all. He is very observant and will try to probe his darling in various ways to ease them into it before telling them the truth.

Aggravating his demon colleagues is his way of acting playful and he’s not above annoying his own darling. He whines whenever he’s feeling bored and will crawl his way to his s/o to seek some entertainment. It’s up to them if they want to humor him or remind him of his daily schedule as a cult leader. Did I mention he has the cutest pout when told he has responsibilities to take care of?

Extremely clingy. Attached to his s/o’s hip at all times - good luck being even three meters apart from each other. Douma is incredibly touch-starved and will take any opportunity to hold or lean his head against his darling. Whether it’s him resting his head on their lap, against their chest, shoulder or back - he likes being comfy in his partner’s arms. Prefers being the little spoon, although he’s not opposed to being the big spoon, either! Huge on PDA, doesn’t care if he’s making people around him uncomfortable or annoyed. His partner is his priority.

Speaking of priorities: you know how cats bring dead animals like lizards and birds to their owners as presents? Douma is that cat. If he finds something he thinks his darling might like, he will definitely bring it back home with it. Look! He brought you something nice! Isn’t he such a thoughtful sweetheart? Can he get cuddles as a reward now?

Douma is not above asking for blood from his human partner. He finds the gesture of being offered his darling’s blood to be incredibly romantic, so bonus points if they bring it up on their own accord. His favorite spots to draw blood from are his s/o’s palm, neck, earlobe and inner thigh when he’s feeling frisky.

Will definitely turn his s/o into a demon. It’s non-negotiable; once he meets that special person who’s willing to spend the rest of their life with someone as broken as him, he won’t let go. They’re stuck with him for eternity. He’s going to acclimate them to their new lifestyle and no- they won’t need to look for food for themselves! No, no, that’s his job. His darling can just stay comfy, he will be the one bringing the ‘bread’ home (cat brain Douma doing his thing again).

The Upper Moons will find him even more insufferable cause he just won’t shut up about them! Even Kokushibo is contemplating whether he should bother reprimanding Akaza for punching his brains out at this point. What a headache.

Overall, Douma would be a happy camper. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

[babybluebex]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol

All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you. 

It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like. 

To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church. 

The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business. 

Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you. 

You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out. 

“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?” 

“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for. 

“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.” 

“That’s good,” you mumbled. 

Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze. 

You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.” 

“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.” 

“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand. 

“Only the best,” he told you. 

“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea. 

“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game. 

“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.” 

“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place. 

Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.” 

“If you say so, Father” you said softly. 

“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.” 

“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand. 

But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.

You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”

“Likes me?” you echoed. 

“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin. 

“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.” 

You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand. 

“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.” 

“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.” 

“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”

“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.” 

“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!” 

“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up. 

“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”

“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?” 

“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette. 

“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.

“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.” 

Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.” 

“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.” 

“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”

“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it,  and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.” 

“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession. 

“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”

“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.” 

“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?” 

“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.” 

Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.” 

“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.” 

“Why?”

Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.” 

You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie. 

Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you. 

That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.

This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter. 

Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie. 

He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours. 

“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?” 

Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection. 

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.” 

“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”

You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”

“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.” 

Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.” 

“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.” 

Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you. 

Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair. 

You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.” 

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.” 

“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“

“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.” 

“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.” 

“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.” 

Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.” 

“What is that?” you asked. 

“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.” 

You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.” 

“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.” 

“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.” 

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.” 

“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss. 

Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss. 

“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.” 

“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.” 

You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.” 

“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?” 

“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.” 

“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…” 

“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.” 

“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.” 

Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” 

“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed,  and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?” 

“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.” 

“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.” 

“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.” 

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.” 

“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.” 

“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.” 

“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?” 

Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.” 

Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you. 

You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck. 

“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.” 

“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.” 

Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together. 

“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him. 

“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.” 

You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.” 

“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”

“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.” 

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.” 

“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.” 

You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip. 

“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”

Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder. 

“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!” 

“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?” 

“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”

“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”

“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.” 

“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.” 

“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.” 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”

“And that’s you?” you sniffled. 

Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.” 

“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!” 

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin. 

“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”

“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider. 

“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”

“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”

“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”

You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead. 

“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.” 

Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.” 

“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.” 

“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.” 

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…” 

“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"

“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.” 

“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”

You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller. 

“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.

“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.” 

“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?” 

“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.” 

“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”

“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”

“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.” 

“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.” 

“How much time is that?” you asked. 

“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?” 

“Yes,” you said. “It does.” 

Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“

“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.” 

“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked. 

“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.” 

“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat. 

“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…” 

“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.” 

“And what else?” 

You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully. 

“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”

“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.” 

“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript:

[Atlas arrives at the house around midday on Winterfest. Asher had come up a day earlier and was waiting for him on the porch with his dog at his side.]

Asher: Hello handsome

[He says this with a slight smile and a wink knowing it will make Atlas both cringe and blush at the same time.]

[Atlas, both cringing and blushing, rolls his eyes and runs up the steps, greeting Asher with a kiss.]

Atlas: Hi

[The dog begins to howl, clearly offended at being ignored.]  

Atlas: This must be Jasper. Asher: Sure is. Atlas: Too bad you’re not allowed a dog in your apartment. Asher: Ah, wouldn’t be fair to him even if they did. He has so much room to run here. I wouldn’t feel right bringing him to the city.

[When they make their way inside, Atlas is grateful to see that, aside from an infant cooing and sputtering in the living room, the house is empty, giving him a moment to acclimate before having to socialize.]

Asher: My parents and sister are down the road visiting the neighbor. I’m on baby duty until they get back. Atlas: Is that Iris’s baby? Asher: Yep, I’m officially an uncle. Atlas: Congratulations. Asher: [smiling proudly] Thank you.

[While Asher sets the table and cleans up a bit, Atlas wanders the room, taking everything in.]

[It’s not long before his family returns and the house comes to life. He’s greeted with smiles and hugs from each of them, feeling almost overwhelmed at how kind and warm they all are. He realizes he’d expected them to act cold or tense around him now that he was Asher’s boyfriend rather than friend, but if anything, they are even sweeter than before.]

[No one even bats an eye when Asher reaches over and puts a hand on his during dinner. They just carry on eating and laughing and sharing stories. Soon, he finds himself joining in and laughing along with them.]

[Eventually, Atlas sneaks away to find a quiet spot to reset. To his surprise, Jasper follows and hops up on the bench with him. He’s not used to dogs. In fact, he’s never had a pet of any kind before, so he isn’t sure what to do. But when Jasper lays next to him, he decides to let him stay. Soon the dog rests his head in Atlas’s lap and lets his full weight relax into the side of him. Something about this makes Atlas’s body relax as well, and he decides then and there that he’d like to have a dog of his own one day.]

Asher: You always know how to find the best hiding places, don’t you? Atlas: It’s a gift.

Asher: Aw and you have friend this time. Atlas: Gah! You woke him up! [laughing as Jasper reaches up to lick his face] Asher: [laughing] Sorry!

[Asher calls the dog off the bench and gives him some pets before sending him out of the room.]

[He takes a seat next to Atlas, and looks at him for a moment, trying to decipher his expression.]

Asher: How are you doing? Atlas: Good. Just thinking. Asher: What about? Atlas: Is your family always like this? Asher: Like what? Atlas: So… nice. Asher: [laughs] Yeah, they’re always like that. Is it too much? Atlas: No, it’s great…

Asher: Mhm. So, what’s on your mind? Atlas: Have they always been this supportive? Like, your transition and being queer and everything. Asher: Yeah. I mean, they didn’t always understand, and there were some bumps in the road, but we worked through it. At the end of the day, they just want me to be happy. And I’m clearly much happier now.

Atlas: That’s… amazing. You know how lucky you are? Asher: Believe me, I do. Atlas: I can’t even imagine. Asher: Yeah? What’s your story?

Atlas: Ough, the opposite. I knew what my parents, and pretty much everyone, would say if they found out I was gay, so I kept it secret until I graduated and was ready to go off to college. Dawn and I had pretty much already decided we were leaving and never going back. Maybe I didn’t even need to come out to them, I could’ve just left, but I was tired of hiding. It felt like, if I could come out to them, then I’d never have to hide again.

Asher: What’d they say?

Atlas: Pretty much what I expected them to. [scoffs] They even tried to send me to a camp. Asher: A camp? Atlas: Conversion therapy. Asher: What the fuck? I thought that was illegal. Atlas: Still happens. At least in our small community. Asher: How could anyone… and to their own kid?

Atlas: [shrugs] You’d be surprised. Anyway, so, we left. We haven’t seen or spoken to anyone since. Not just our parents, but aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, everyone. Asher: So, when you said you lost everyone that was ever important to you… Atlas: Everyone, but Dawn. Asher: I’m sorry. Atlas: It’s okay. It’s for the best, honestly.

[Asher leans back and pulls Atlas to him, letting him lay down, and running his fingers through his hair.]

Asher: Well, now you have me. And my family really likes you, y’know. Atlas: I like them too. In fact, if we ever break up, I’m keeping them. Asher: [laughs] I’m sure we can figure out some kind of custody arrangement. Atlas: Maybe.

Asher: Though, if you keep planning for our breakup, you’re gonna start hurting my feelings. Atlas: Sorry. Force of habit. Asher: Well, we’ll have to break that habit, ‘cause you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. Atlas: Me either. Asher: Good… We’ll have to go back in soon, if you’re up for it. Atlas: Yeah, just five more minutes. Asher: Sure.

[incesthemes]

hi bestie. it’s me. ❤️ monkey emoji 🙊 or whatever can i make you talk about stanford era sam again… for me for please…

you can do anything you want to me. i can take it

i guess i don't think about Sam At Stanford all that much really? before and after for sure, but college life is boring. cannot imagine why sam wanted that so bad 💔

i do generally think he would have felt very out of place there, though. he comes from a background so wildly different from the average student: i think there would have been a lot of jealousy and yearning as he made friends and learned about the lives they got to live, basic things which were so unavailable to him. he probably would have been angry about this for a while, and it likely would have kept him distant from people. humans seek connection and we do that through shared experiences; if sam has none of those shared experiences, he would naturally be alienated from the average person, even if just subconsciously and unintentionally.

i also prefer the version of canon where sam graduated from high school at 19 and is entering his 4th year of college in the pilot, which can tack on some latent shame and humiliation about being older than his peers, especially when he's had such different life experiences from them.

i like to think that in his first year at stanford, there was some kind of small haunting on campus (or equally low-risk hunt), and sam decided to take care of it—not like he can exactly ignore it when it's on campus, after all. he gets hurt in the process and can't help but miss dean and john, and he's never felt more alone in his life than at that moment. it's important to me that he spends his first year in college standing on a cliff's edge, trying to ignore the abyss below him as he struggles to fit into society (the abyss is hunting, the abyss is family). one wrong move will send him hurtling over the edge and right back into the place he fought so hard to escape. it's stressful and agonizing because he knows he doesn't belong here but he can't go back, and it rips him apart and this low-grade, routine hunt is almost enough to send him falling into the abyss. i want it to hurt.

ultimately i think sam's experience at stanford was a challenge to him, one that forced him to realize just how little he actually knew about a "normal" life, the kind he'd only ever seen from the outside. the show seems to imply that most of sam's positive strides occurred as the result of demonic intervention (such as brady introducing sam to jessica), and so it brings me great joy to imagine him really, really struggling to fit in and find a life outside of hunting—possibly to the extent that he wouldn't have been able to at all if he'd been left to his own devices. obviously he wasn't an outcast at school, but i favor an interpretation that most of his social circle was because of demons like brady interfering in sam's life. the kid's awkward and doesn't know how to throw away his trash, okay. he's not cut out for a normal life.

also i think he brought something of dean's with him to school. a shirt that he wore regularly, maybe. a trinket. their shared toothbrush. it probably made acclimation harder, but he desperately needed the comfort when he was alone and wanting. he's never been farther than a few feet from dean at any point in his life, and suddenly dean is all the way across the country and his dorm room is far too big and cavernous, like it'll swallow him whole. and he misses his big brother.

[femboty2k]

Tactile Sensations

Short story about being trans under the cut. I do feel like some of it is a bit on the nose, but I hope you'll humor me. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you enjoy.

Morning is different now, the same way everything else is. Light filters into her photoreceptors and she has a difficult time telling if it's real or not. Memories of how the light felt on her skin back home, how the wind felt in her hair, how the sand felt on her skin, all filtered through a dull thrum in the back of her head. “What time is it…?” Her voice called out to the assistance drone parked in its charging bay. Its eyes shimmered to life at the call, and the smooth metallic being lurched forth on spindle-thin legs. “Current station time is eight-twenty-two. Good morning Cassie, I hope you slept well.” Their voice was as monotone as ever, but she could sense the melancholic concern beneath it. She’d gone to bed early again last night, much earlier than ever before. “I slept for…twelve hours?” “Nearly, ten hours and forty-five minutes exactly. Do you feel rested?” She couldn’t tell, not yet, she wasn’t quite acclimated enough. “I…I think so. Thank you, Levy.” “Of course, Cassie, would you like some coffee? I can put a pot on for you while you get dressed and-” “Coffee sounds great, thank you. I’ll be in the bathroom.” Levy emitted a low tone that sounded like a sad animal before strutting off out of the room.

Cassie climbed out of the pile of blankets she slept in and trudged her way to the bathroom. It still rattled her how conscious she was of every step now. The mirror greeted her in the same half-hearted way it had been recently. A being with tired eyes and ragged hair blinked back at her with the soft glow of amber sensors. “You look like shit.” It said in a voice detached from her throat. “You look like shit and everyone looks at you weird now. Aren’t you happy?” Muffled static fizzled behind every word, rotating servos clicked maliciously as she combed her hair and washed her face, she could barely feel the water. She hadn’t showered in days because she didn’t feel the need to now. She could barely feel her skin, and it didn’t create the same day-to-day dirt that it used to anyway. Her clothes made her feel better though. Hiding the barely visible seams of her skin beneath a soft sweater and flowing skirt made her want to sleep less, for now. “Cassie! Your coffee is ready!” That was her que. “Time to put on that brave face, unless you want to disappoint them again.”

With her senses intact she caught the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting from the kitchen of her small apartment. Levy always stocked real coffee ever since she mentioned off hand that the synthesized packs needed twice as much to taste the same. “Milk and sugar, just like always. I even made some banana-nut nutribars too. You said you missed them the other day and I found a recipe on OuterNet.” What happened in response to this? Pressure built behind her eyes as she took the cup and nodded thankfully. The taste was the same, perfect in every way, and the bars reminded her of home again. “Cassie…?” The assistance drone crooned in that same sad animal tone. She looked over to Levy somewhat confused. “Huh? Oh the coffee is great, Levy. It’s perfect, as always. A-And thank you for making these,” she gestured with a half eaten nutribar, “Just like I remember.” “Cassie, you are crying.” “What…? I’m…” Setting the bar down she prodded her face to find a steady stream of tears dripping into the coffee and wetting her sweater. “Oh, I am, aren’t I? I’m okay. Just, haven’t gotten used to everything just yet. The doctors said it could take time, remember? I’m okay, Levy. Really.” Levy made a small electronic chirping sound, a telltale sign that they were thinking hard about something.

“Cassie… I am worried about you.” They were trying their best to keep their helper-coded voice to its usual chipper monotone, but ever since she learned how to use her new ears she couldn't unhear the underlying emotion that came with every synthesized word. “Levy, I told you I-” “You have been shutting yourself in your room for two weeks now. You have not attempted to contact any of your friends or family. You have not attempted to talk to me…” Those last words stung the most. “L-Levy I'm fine. Okay? I'm still just having a hard time adjusting. The doctor's said this would happen. I'll be fine. I just need to get through this funk.” Levy’s chirping resumed. “Okay Cassie. I trust you. But please, if you need anything, I am here. I have always been here for you, and I always will be.” She knew that, why wasn’t it obvious? If she thought it was a problem she would have said something, right? Levy had been there since she was woken up, through all the medical appointments, all the moving and transport shuttles, all of it. They should know that she would say something. She should know that. “I know Levy, thank you…” Levy nudged her shoulder with one of their manipulators and she embraced them lightly. “I’ll call Leeda today, see if she wants to hang out for a while. I could probably use the fresh air anyway. How about that?” Levy let out a pleased fluting tone and nodded their chassis up and down a few times. “That is a great idea! I will clean things up here while you are out. Let me know when you are leaving!” They scurried off to start refolding the nest she had risen from moments before, leaving her alone to cast a look of dread at her communicator.

“Fuck… What do I even say? ‘Sorry I’ve been gone for two weeks! My family treats me weird now so I needed to shut myself in my room for a while! How’ve you been?’ yeah right… Just, call her, ask if she wants to go to the Atrium. You like the Atrium. Go for a walk. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I can…I can do that…” Her thumb hovered over the confirm key for a few moments, the slightest twitch of hesitation surging beneath her numb skin. “Hello? Cassie? Cassie?! Is there interference?! Helloooooo?!” “Leeda! Hey! Uh…How are you?” The rasp of Leeda’s aqualung respirator fired up as her shrill voice screeched through the speaker. “HOW ARE YOU?! YOU DISAPPEAR OFF THE STATION FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS AND THAT’S WHAT YOU SAY?! HOW ARE YOU?! I’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK! KEEN’S BEEN WORRIED SICK! WE’VE ALL BEEN WORRIED-” “Leeda please don’t yell…” Her reply came like a wounded hound, limping through the dead air it created. “Sorry, Cassie, you know how worked up I get. Do you wanna hang out today? Keen and I were going to walk around the promenade, you could tag along!”

She wanted to tell her that she didn’t like Keen all that much, that the way he put in little effort to remember her name was annoying at best and soul crushing at worst. She wanted to say how Keen had been a large part of her having to talk to her family so early, and that she regretted ever bringing it up with him. She wanted to tell her about all the snide things she’d heard Keen say about her when he thought she wasn’t within earshot, and berate her for not believing her when she brought it up the last time they saw each other, bust most of all, she wanted to just say no. “That sounds great! I was uh, I was thinking about going to the gardens today… Any chance you two would wanna take the walk there?” Leeda’s beak clicked together in satisfaction on the other end. “Yes! Yes yes yes! That’s a great idea! I’ll get Keen and we’ll meet you there!”

Before she could reply the excitable Vessik had already hung up, plans solidified within a contract of silence that hung over her as she examined her appearance. “Levy?” The droid came scampering back into the kitchen, pile of folded blankets in hand. “I’m gonna go meet Leeda and Keen at the Atrium, we’re going for a walk in the gardens.” Levy chirped in reply, “That is great! I will finish cleaning and then go shopping for the week. Would you like me to pick up anything for you? The doctor recommended a particular type of coolant, I can look for it if you would like.” Her face was grim as the front door slid open to reveal the balcony walkway of her apartment building, morning light lapping at the edges of her shadow. “Yeah…that’d be nice… I’ll see you around, Levy.”

Outside the ever-turning rings of Axial-Tilt Four rotated in their never-ending cosmic waltz. She remembered first being woken up on the station. How she was one of just five colonists to be successfully woken up from their methuselah chambers, and how sick she was by the end of it all. “You have a decision here, we want you to be aware. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to. Things are better now, I promise.” Those words played over and over and over as her reflection walked next to her out in the stars. In her mind there was still a piece of her wishing she had perished with the others on that ship, it was louder on days like this. How easy would it have been to just live in that dream forever, to not have to go through all the pain and trouble of changing and fixing herself in the hopes of feeling more like herself. “The procedures are free, you won’t pay anything. We just want to make sure you understand that this comes with a potentially long recovery period. Some people acclimate quickly, but a lot of factors can cause it to take longer than expected. You’re sure?” If she had said no, where would she be? How many layers of trapped would she be in right now? Trapped on this station, trapped in the medical sector, trapped in a hospital, trapped in a room, trapped in a bed, trapped in her old body. She felt something then that stopped her in her tracks a few feet from the tram shuttle entryway. Her skin crawled at the thought.

It was there as she stood staring down at her hand that she failed to notice the fast approaching cephalopod towing along a short wiry human man. Leeda crashed into her with all the force of a wet jacket, vessik didn’t have a bone structure so it was less dangerous and more unpleasant that the two collided. All she could manage was a staunch “Ooufh” before Leeda’s happy trills and pleased beak clicking filled the air. “CASSIIIIIEEEE!” “H-Hey, Leeda, scrap that kinda hurt…” Leeda recoiled playfully, “Sorry! I think my com hit your forehead! Keen! Keen look, it's Cassie!” Keen, who was still tapping away at the keys of his own communicator, looked up for a brief moment with a rather tired look in his eyes. “Yeah! Yeah hey D. Long time no see, half a lunar cycle even, you been okay?” She could only grit her teeth so hard behind her lips before she had to respond. That single letter moniker dug under her nails and made her hands itch as she fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “Yyyyyyep, been fine. We going for a walk, or what?” A little more confidence, there we go, stare him down and make him uncomfortable. The show of half-hearted social dominance came with the tossing of her unkempt hair, pushing tangles of curls well in need of a touch up into a sad ponytail that lagged behind her head.

Axial-Tilt Four’s atrium might have been her favourite place on the gargantuan colony station. Four had been built with livability in mind, and unlike its three sister stations had a vast array of parks and botanical gardens planned out for the populace. Her favourite of them all was this one though. It was themed after the western coastal regions, a place from old Terra known as the Cascade Mountains, a place she knew as the Oregon regional district. The expanse of carefully created land emulated the pine forests and rocky cliffs of her birthplace in a near perfect display. This was where she did most of her thinking, this was where she felt most at home in the future she’d awoken to. “So uh, what have you two been up to?” “Work.” Keen shot back almost immediately, kicking a stone down the path ahead. “Yeah they’ve got him pulling double shifts until the next shuttle gets here, that last expedition crew took a good number of administration officers with it.” Leeda’s tone was more forgiving, still with that cheerful timbre behind it. “As for me, I've just been in school! This tri-segment has been rough. Getting all the certs to join the banking guild is haaaard.” Cassie nodded along to the words, two weeks had passed and nothing had changed, but yet something stirred within her. The three sat down around a concrete picnic table and exchanged a few more pleasantries. Mostly just Cassie listening to Leeda talk on and on about the intricacies of the Quaala Banking guild and how much math she was having to learn. It wasn’t until Keen piped up from whatever book he was clicking through that she felt the need to speak again.

“So D.-” “Cassie, or Cass, or Cassandra. I’m really not picky, you know.” Her tone was quick, sharp, laced with venom and she hoped he felt it. His eyes widened a bit, but the relaxed look he always had soon returned. “Right right, Cass. How’s the ol’ data entry goin’? Heard you guys got a fresh round of computers in at that processing place you work at. I helped sign off on the shipment, reminded me of you.” Her mind scrolled through dozens of possible lies, but settled unfortunately on the truth. “I’m still on leave… They uh, they give you as long as you need as long as you do regular check-ins with a doctor so, I’ve just been uh…around I guess.” gone was the violence that she had struck back at Keen with, replaced by the timid growl of synthesized vocal chords and nervously clicking finger servos. “Aaaah gotcha, gotcha… So uh… How long do you think you’re gonna… You know, how long do you think it’s gonna take?” How did she answer that? How could she face the reality of her situation? How dare he. How dare he put her in this situation. Made to confront her own bodily neglect and unwillingness to conform completely to the form that she wanted. Clearly she had made a mistake, clearly somewhere along the way she had jumped to a conclusion she could have been talked out of, clearly- “I’m not sure, honestly… I’ve been having some difficulty with the nerve bonding part as of late… I can’t feel stuff very well unless I really try and focus. I have an appointment to get them re-tuned soon though, so, maybe that’ll help.”

Something caught her in the arm. A flick sent from in front of Keen’s snide smirking face. Leeda prodded at him to stop, calling him rude but chuckling along with him as he jokingly added, “Did you feel that?” She stood, fists balled so tightly their clicking was audible, or at least she hoped it was. “Why did I do this? Why do I keep trying to hang out with you?” And off she stormed down a branching path nearby. “What- Hey! D.! D.! Come back! Hey!” She gave them one last glance from over her shoulder before she continued her hurried trek down a path and into a small clearing. She felt it this time, the tears on her face, the pressure behind her eyes. The dam she had built had broken, and in a moment of peace among the swaying pine branches, she wept. It happened there, when it all broke down around her. The carefully constructed walls of denial let loose everything she’d been holding back, and there, right there, she felt something. She felt everything. Every blade of grass, the wind on her face, the dirt beneath her legs, all of it. Her sobs mixed with bubbling laughter as something within her clicked into place. Catharsis never happens when you want it to, the same as true right now. She’d always pictured herself having this moment while at home, hugging Levy and quietly crying into a pillow or something. Rarely did the thought of sobbing in the dirt somewhere out in the woods of Atrium park Cascade cross her mind. A voice called out from some nearby shrubbery, and she looked over to see Leeda tiredly making her way up an incline and into the clearing.

“Cassie! Thank fuck, I found you, oh my fucking stars I found you… Just… Just give me a minute…” She reached up with a tentacled hand and clicked in a button on her aqualung to inject a fresh boost of oxygenized kelp mist into the gently flowing blue formula that allowed her to breath in the open air. “Whew! Much better. Cassie!” Once again the squishy woman threw herself around her friend, arms spiraling around Cassie’s in a distinctly vessik styled hug. “I’m so sorry about Keen… I’ve been talking to him about that garbage and I thought he would at the very least behave but I-” Cassie held a feeling finger up to her beak. “Leeda… Hush… Please… I’ve made my decision, I should have said something… I don’t want to hang out with Keen anymore.” Leeda’s head fins flapped at the statement with inquisitive affirmation. “I know! I mean, I figured, I just thought, well, you two had been through so much and… Then he and I started dating and I always felt like I was intruding on your friendship and… I’m sorry, Cassie…” Cassie laid her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t… I don’t like how long it took us to get to this… It should have been solved way earlier… He doesn’t treat me well… He outed me to my family for fucks sake…” Her words were heavy and laden with the memories they carried. Leeda nodded, “I know… And I should have been more active in helping you instead of worrying about getting in the way. I haven’t been a great friend, Cassie, I’m sorry.”

Cassie shook her head. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Leeda… I just want it to stop… I want Keen to go away, I want it all to just, get better already…” Leeda’s cold grip loosened from her arms as she scooted into a position better suited for Cassie to prop herself up with. “It will! It will get better, we’ll start on that right now. Keen and I were already talking about splitting up, to be entirely honest, we were going to talk it out over lunch when you called.” “Really? Shit, sorry I got in the way of your breakup.” Leeda’s trilling laugh shook the pine needles around them. “Oh no you’re fine! If anything this probably sped things up a bit… After you walked off I got pretty mad at him and he brought up me ‘always taking your side’ in things again so I told him to take a hike.” Cassie stifled a laugh. “Did you actually say that while out on a hiking trail?” A cluster of tentacle fingers poked her in the shoulder. “No but I should have! Dammit why do you have to think of all the clever things to say!” For the first time in an honest while, the two shared a laugh. Eventually they decided to simply sit and enjoy the breeze, but Leeda’s curiosity infamously knew no bounds, and it wasn’t too long before a question lingered between them.

“So… I know you two are like, childhood buddies, but how long have you actually known each other?” Cassie was tracing patterns in the dirt, but stopped when the memories of her old home flooded back to her. “We grew up together, back on Terra… Our parents knew each other so we spent a lot of time playing video games and going on hikes in the public sectors. At one point I thought I had a crush on him but that was a whole different thing… When the Methuselah project came along his dad was one of the chief engineers on the whole thing. He got both our families spots on the colony ships. I didn’t want to leave but, it was very clear that Terra wasn’t going to be the future anyone hoped it would be… I remember the last day before we went into the pods he said, ‘see you in the future!’ and that gave me some kind of weird confidence boost… Like, maybe everything would be okay… And you know the rest. The ship got recovered a few centuries later with a few pods in tact, I got cryo-sickness and he didn’t, and I took the opportunity to act on something I was always afraid of doing back home…” She examined her hand then. How carefully crafted it had been just for her. Bulky but still different enough from her old hands so that she could tell the difference. “What made you consider cybernetics?” Leeda’s usual cheer was replaced with a softer, more genuine curiosity, one that told Cassie she could refuse the question if she wanted.

“It wasn’t much of a choice, really. The doctors told me that I could either go for the cyber-bod or just continue to get treatments. The treatments weren’t terrible, but I was in bad shape, I wouldn’t have been living much of a life outside the medical center. So I took the cybernetics, and the chance to finally… be me.” A stray tear rolled down her cheek. “You couldn’t have transitioned back on Terra?” A more complicated question than she would’ve cared for. She could have but she was too close to her original family, too close to Keen, all people who weren’t very accepting of the idea. “It wasn’t a good time to try… And I was scared… But I thought that, maybe since it was just Keen and I, you know, maybe I could go for it. Maybe he’d come around and maybe he’d regret telling my new folks about it without my permission… But here we are, huh?”

Leeda nodded. “Here we are… I’m still so sorry he did that.” Cassie shook her head. “For the record, my parents have been nothing but supportive… It was just the weight of it all… My depression was keeping me from fully acclimating to my cybernetics and that piled on just so fucking much dysphoria you have no idea… But, you said it… We can make it better now. Keen can take a hike, fuck that guy. I think I’ll call my moms when I get home… Haven’t talked to them in nearly two lunar cycles now, bet they’re gonna tell me off real good for it… Thank you, Leeda, for apologizing. I still think I need some time to like, sort this whole thing out in my head but, I’ll be in touch, okay?” The two stood and exchanged another hug. “Whenever you’re feeling up to it, we should hang out again! I know this really cool thrift shop on the promenade, I could show you!” Cassie chuckled, “I do love a good cheap sweater.” She twirled a bit, striking a half-hearted pose before collapsing into laughter. It felt good, to get some of it out. Her shoulder still slouched a bit on the walk to the tram shuttle, and she felt exhausted when she finally did get home. But the tactile sensations she felt along the way brought a delicate smile to her face.

When she arrived at her apartment she greeted Levy with a solid hug and took a shower while they made lunch. She ran the water cold and stood under to feel the chill snake its way up her spine. The face in the mirror didn’t sneer at her when she looked at it this time, and with a wry smile it repeated the words she whispered aloud, “There she is.” The rest of the day was quiet. A long conversation with her mothers about what had been going on, a conversation with her doctor about how her acclimation had finally progressed, and then some of the most restful sleep she’d gotten in weeks. That night she dreamt of the gardens, she dreamt of visiting her mothers up on Hab level two, she dreamt of standing on that beach back home as the water around her crashed into the rocky cliffs of the coastline. When she finally woke up, half past noon this time, her eyes fluttered to life with the bright glow of amber sensors. Morning is different now, just like everything else is.

[asifyoucouldoutreadme]

Excerpt, Chapter 19: Obliviate ~~

Theo dropped down to sit next to her, the tension of his limbs speaking to his concern.

“Tell me what happened.” He said softly.

“I— I kissed him.” She could barely stomach the words, though her magic attempted to persuade her otherwise. “And our magic… responded.”

“She looked like she wanted to eat me, Theo.” Malfoy said quietly, an odd tightness to his smooth voice.

“What do you mean she wanted to eat you?” Theo asked incredulously, an uncomfortable laugh catching on the words.

“I’ve never felt anything like it.” Hermione breathed, lifting her head to catch his eyes. Theo flinched, though she didn’t know if it was due to what he found in her gaze or her words. When he lifted his hand to touch her face, she slapped it away on instinct. Her magic would only allow one other to touch her, an uncompromising fact that she attempted to accept without the accompanying disgust.

A deep rumble escaped Malfoy’s chest, his sharp features pinching as he watched Theo return his hand gingerly to his lap. He took a halting step toward her, then thought better of it and retreated to sit down on the settee. Strain emphasized every line of his body, hands gripping his knees with bruising force as he perched on the edge of the cushion and watched her.

“Well, fuck.” Theo shuffled away from her, eyes flicking to his friend as he made himself less of a threat with the distance.

“You shouldn’t touch her.” Malfoy said quickly, like it was a suggestion when everyone in the room knew it to be a command.

“I won’t try to touch you, Hermione.” Theo said, returning his attention to her. “So you kissed him and you felt his magic?” She nodded, biting her lip as she tried to formulate a succinct description of something so beyond words.

“He felt like raw power.”

Theo rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“And you, Draco? What did you feel?”

Malfoy swallowed thickly. Despite his face being a blank canvas she could sense his uncertainty about voicing something so intimate, admitting to a truth that both of them were barrelling towards.

“She felt like…” He hesitated, mismatched eyes boring into her as he weighed his honesty. “She felt like home.” He finally admitted, looking away from her as he said it.

Hermione’s chest tightened at his words, the desire to be that for him rising within her unbidden. She pushed the sentiment aside as quickly as it arose, a breathy grunt escaping her lips that whipped Malfoy’s face back toward her.

Theo hummed, a sound halfway between curiosity and concern. He watched them both closely as he spoke, studying their interactions.

“Well, you are meant to complement one another. Your magic is supposed to fit together, so it could be that you feel what you seek in this world.”

“So it's all part of the compulsion? A trick of design to make us accept the bond?” Malfoy asked angrily.

“Or it’s simply destiny fulfilled.” Theo shrugged.

“I have a home, Theo.” He spat, fidgeting uncharacteristically.

“Draco.” Theo responded somberly. “You haven’t had a home since the Dark Lord took this one from you.”

He turned his attention to Hermione, cocking his head in thought.

“And you’ve been powerless for the past five years. I imagine the saturation of dark magic, and you just acclimating to yours returning, has something to do with your extreme reaction.”

Hermione shook her head in frustration. That seemed like an oversimplification of what touching Malfoy’s magic had felt like.

“I wanted to use him to rip this world apart.” She whispered.

“To what aim?” Theo frowned, pushing his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a knuckle.

“I don’t know.”

Hermione met Malfoy’s eyes, the brief thought that she could find the answer there flashing through her mind. Two fates were reflected in their diametric hues, though they were both tied to the same man.

THE STATS:

AsIfYouCouldOutReadMe on AO3

Explicit

63,868 word WIP, posts weekly (sometimes more than once if I’m feeling frisky)

THE VIBES: Gothic horror wartime AU roughly inspired by Frankenstein and Jane Eyre.

THE SUMMARY: Hermione Granger has been hidden in muggle America for five long years after the death of Harry Potter during the Battle of Hogwarts, constrained by an Unbreakable Vow to live separately from the magical world and renounce all magic. Until one day her handler appears to bring her back into the world she left behind. Draco Malfoy is the Dark Lord's ultimate weapon, the leader of an elite group of Death Eaters: The Maladies. But injuries and dark magic have started to take their toll and Theo & Blaise are desperate to preserve his standing and all their lives. Together Hermione and Draco will forge a bond powerful enough to tip the scales of war - but to what end?

[ladylovesloki]

Sims: One Shot

Pairings: Loki X Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, mentions of smut

Summary: Loki is away on a mission, when he comes back he makes an adorable discovery.

I love playing the Sims and I thought this would be a fun story☺️

You were just sitting on the couch in Loki’s living room, playing Sims on your computer. It was late one night and Loki, your boyfriend, was on a mission for the next few days. He left about 3 days ago so you had another 2 days of waiting for him. It sucked but he was so worth it, not just for the sex which was…..mind blowing…he was also the most attentive, thoughtful and romantic person you have ever been with. 

You worked in the Tower, archives division. You were responsible for keeping record of all of the documents that come and go, who borrows them and for what purpose. Making sure they have the proper clearance to borrow whatever it is they are borrowing. Loki would be in there frequently, getting books about Earth so he can acclimate as soon as possible. He was going to be here quite a while after all.

He came in to the archives looking to borrow some material that pertained to a mission he had coming up one day and you couldn’t help but spark up a conversation with him. You talked about books, what type of music on Earth he likes the most, movies he had seen so far. Eventually he asked you out for coffee and that was that. You were together for a little over a year now, you just had the conversation about moving in together and Loki insisted you stay in his suite while he was away. “Let’s call it a test, I want you to see how you feel alone in my chambers without me. It will be just for a few days and if you feel comfortable being here I want you here.” He looked at you with that cute eyebrow thing he does and reeled you right in. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to live with Loki, you would love to, but the idea of living in the Tower made you nervous. You didn’t exactly want to live where you worked and Loki didn’t have much of a choice since he’s technically still being monitored by Shield. Plus having sooo many people around made you anxious, you were an introvert and loved being at home. You loved working in the archives because for the most part it was quiet, just the way you like your home.

You currently live in an apartment about an hour away from the Tower. You would spend some nights in Loki’s suite if you were there too late but you always knew that if you wanted to escape from the hustle and bustle of the big city, you had your place. If you move in with Loki that would be gone.

So here you are, “trying to see how you feel”, so far you haven’t really gone anywhere else besides the archives and Loki’s suite. He had his own kitchen so you never had to go to the community one the Avengers use when they want to eat together. Most of them were gone on this mission too anyway so you just decided to keep to yourself for now.

So here you are playing Sims in your pj’s. It was getting close to midnight and you felt signs of being tired but you were in the middle of this build you had dedicated like 3 hours to that you wanted to finish before you went to bed.

~~Loki’s POV~~

Waiting for the quinjet to land was agonizing, I would just teleport to my chambers if I truly wanted to but the captain wouldn’t let me hear the end of it last time. I just wanted to be back with y/n. To slide in bed with her and feel the warmth I have been missing since we left for this blasted mission.

The quinjet finally lands and the hatch opens, I expect to hear the captain say we will meet in the conference room to debrief but he seems as exhausted as the rest of the team. Mortals.

So with his dismissal I made my way to my suite, excited to see my lady. As I approach my door I see a blue light peaking its way out through the bottom.

I walk in and there you are, sitting on the couch with your computer is your lap. Fast asleep.

I go to her with a smile and my intention was to turn off the computer and place her in bed but what was on the screen got my attention.

Is that me? I focus in on the character that has the same features as me, I also see a female that mirrors your features as well. I use my finger to move the game around and look around the house that y/n had constructed. She played this “Sims” game often and would spend hours building homes and causing chaos for the characters she created. I never knew she created a replica of…us…in a beautiful home and what looks like a…cat..?

Is this truly what she wanted? To make a “home” with me, I always thought she was reluctant to move in with me because of my past. Maybe this is the type of home she wants to live in and with me it seems.

I look over at y/n, mouth open, snoring…drooling a little. My gods. She is beautiful. I do what I initially intended to do and I close her computer. I place my hand on her head and mutter a sleeping spell so I don’t wake her from the movement from the couch to our bed. 

I will not be joining her though..I have some research to do.

~Readers POV~

You wake up and you’re…in bed? You don’t remember getting up and going to bed but..here you are. You walk over to the bathroom and start getting ready for your day, have some breakfast and leave for work. You can’t wait for Loki to get home, even though its not the most ideal place to live you’ve decided that you will be moving in with him. These last few days just reminded you how much you love him and how much you want to spend every moment you can with him.

You work your normal day and go back to your soon to be new suite. When you get there you open the door and you see a single candle burning on the table in the dining area. You turn on the lights and walk over to the fire hazard (the candle) and see a note next to it. Your name is written in beautiful handwriting on it. You open it..

Y/n,

My love I have missed you so, these last few days without you have been agonizing. I have a surprise for you my darling girl. I have left your dress for the evening on our bed, on the vanity I have a gift for you that I also request you wear for the evening. I will see you at the address I have provided at 7:30 tonight. 

I love you sweet princess, I will see you soon.

Forever yours,

Loki

You were so excited! It looks like they had returned from the mission early, you couldn’t wait to see Loki and for him to do all of this reminds you of how much you love him. You look at the time, “shit..I only have 2 hours to get ready and get to there!” You quickly google the address, its not far, about a 20 minute drive from the tower, 30 with traffic. You get in the shower and start to get ready, you put on the dress Loki left for you, green of course. Then you go to the vanity as instructed and find a small box waiting for you.You open it and see a beautiful necklace, diamonds around the chain and a green jewel in the middle. 

You’re a little nervous to wear to be honest, the thing probably costs more than everything you owned put together.

You take one last look in the mirror and run out the door. You ask one of the drivers to take you to the address Loki gave you.

“Here we are” announces the driver.

You look out your window and its a beautiful brownstone building, “the hell are you planning mischief?” 

You thank the driver and walk up the steps, you don’t even have to knock because as soon as you reach the door Loki opens it.

You heart skips when you look at him for first time in days.

“Loki” you breathe out. 

“My love”, he reaches for you and you fall in his arms. 

“I missed you so much, how was the mission?” You step back to take him in, checking to see if he had been injured while away.

“All is well my love, enemies dead, plans thwarted, so much avenging” he smiles down at you.

“Come my love, I have more surprises for you inside.” He kisses you, takes you by the hand and brings you inside this beautiful…home.

“Loki what’s going on, what is this place?” You ask, your curiosity killing you.

He chuckles, “all in good time my love, come.”

He leads you into a dining room that had candles and dinner set up, “will you dine with me my darling?” I will tell you all about how our mission went and you can tell me of your time while I was away.”

“Of course.” In truth you were starving and everything looked so good, curiosity will have to wait.

After eating and conversing about the mission and things you had been up to in his absence, Loki escorted you to the sitting area.

“Do you like this home?” He asks.

“It’s beautiful”, honestly you loved it. It looked like a replica of the house you built on Sims.

“What are we doing here? Did you rent it out for the night?” Knowing sexy time was definitely on the table.

“No my love, I purchased this home earlier today.” He confesses.

“What..Why?” 

“Because this is the home I would like for us to live in…together. Y/n I must confess, I came home late last night and I saw your….Sims..game..thing on your computer and after I saw an astonishingly close replica of me walking around the home with someone that looked a lot like you….I” he takes a moment to get his thoughts together “…I’ve always known the Tower can be an uncomfortable place for you but because you are so wonderful and understanding you were willing to stay with me there.”

“It’s because I love you Loki, I’ll go anywhere if it means being with you.”

“I know my love, so this morning I went to Fury. I told him that I wanted to live with you outside of the tower. I showed him this home and after a long negotiation about surveillance and Stark putting in some extra security measures to insure I behave, he agreed. Using Starks resources and connections I was able to purchase the property in no time. So my love, I ask you again, will you move in with me? Here in this home, make your simulation a reality?”

You nod your head because you can’t speak. So many emotions going through you, love, elation, excitement..you name it you were feeling it.

So you kiss him and you hope that between the nod and this kiss he will feel your answer.

“Meow…meow..”

You look down and see a little black kitten rubbing against your legs.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot about him.” Loki chuckles, bends down and collects the little furball in his arms.

“Did you get us a cat?!”

“I saw one in your game as well darling, surprise…”

You were so happy, you had the man you love, a new beautiful home and a new addition to your little family.

“Darling, I do have a question.” He smiles at you while you interact with the kitten.

“What’s that baby?” You ask, playing with the kitten in his arms.

“Wanna go woohoo?”

The End

[wolfgirl-valentine]

Retired Dream AU, lyrics from “(I love you) For Sentimental Reasons” by Nat King Cole

It was a quiet evening, the interior of the apartment warm and cozy in contrast with the freezing temperature outside. 

It felt…domestic. A concept that was still a novelty for Morpheus. A companionable quietness  between them as they prepare dinner together, only the sound of the utensils as they are used and the music coming from Hobs speaker breaking the silence. 

Morpheus have acclimated to his new…situation, more easily that he expected, and he is sure Hob have played a key role in that. They have rekindled their friendship before his change of status, and when he and Death have showed at his doorstep a rainy night, he only looked at his drenched, shivering and very human shape before opening his home for him.

It was supposed to be a temporary thing, only until he found his footing, but the more Morpheus spent time with him, the less he wanted to leave.

When after a year living together, he confessed his change in feelings (so tentatively, so scared of rejection) and Hob responded with a bright smile and teary eyes so full of love, Morpheus feel his chest filling with a warmth that has stayed ever since.

Right now he can feel it from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, as he help chopping the vegetables meanwhile Hob stir the pots on the stove. It pulses as a beating heart as Hob places a sweet kiss on his cheek when he comes closer to pass the cut carrots to be added to the stew.

The song from the speaker ends, and as Hob places the lid of the pot and adjust the heat another begins.

"Oh I love this song!" Suddenly Morpheus founds himself being dragged to the middle of the small kitchen, embraced by the warm of Hob arms, being rocked softly to the rhythm of the music, Hob humming quietly next to him.

" I have told you Hob, I do not dance." There is not real heat behind his remark, and by Hob chuckle he knows that.

" Ah but we are not dancing Love, we are…just embracing in our kitchen, moving together, with background music…" Morpheus huffing gains him another chuckle, and he lets himself enjoy the moment, so many things he is experiencing at the side of this ridiculous, wonderful man.

When the next verse starts, Hob voice joins it, and as Morpheus finally pay attention to the lyrics, a coil starts to burn in his chest.

"I love you,

and you alone were meant for me,

please give your loving heart to me

and say we'll never part"

Morpheus vision becomes blurry, and he is mortified to realize he is crying, but this time there is no negative feeling involved, just warm, Hobs warm, the comfortable warm of their kitchen, and the warm inside Morpheus own chest, and he realize that warm is love, a sob left his lips, but a smile is stretching them, and Hob just hug him tighter("It's ok love"), still rocking him as he whispers the next verse, and Morpheus only let the tears run free, because he can have this, Hob, their home, their love…nothing, nobody is going to take this from him, and as the last line repeats again, he joins Hob voice, his own hoarse but firm.

"I've given you my heart"

(sorry for any grammatical error, english is not my first lenguage)

(photos of my drawings taken with my phone)

This idea make me get out of my bed at 3 am, going to let it in pencil because I’m sure if I try to ink it I’ll make it worse.

Dedicated to my people in the “Dreamling con ñ” server