#— river's sticky notes ✩˚｡�� | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muntitled · 7 months ago

Text

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x black reader #jay park #jay park x reader #jay smut #jay park smut #park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong smut #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim #jake smut #sim jayun

708 notes · View notes

nemesyaaa · 4 months ago

Text

bones and all au // rafe cameron x reader

summary : “ you're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth. ” strangers by ethel cain.

warnings : if you were not comfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino, don't read this !! mature plot. a lot lot lot of blood. sick and gore attitude. cannibalism used as a form of love. strangers/ode to eaters by ethel cain muse. smut. pomegranate used as a metaphor of cannibalism. jealousy. mentions of organs and anatomy. some b&a refs but you can read it without watching the movie. violence. minors DNI. +18.

author's note : crdits to @starfxkrreloaded for this au. you can reach for her ode to eaters au which is very insane ! please, i know this is very twisted but don't send hate or be mean in the comments. if you dont want to read something like that, it's your right and i respect it, just scroll. to the rest, hope you will enjoy. it's my first time writing something like that so i'm kinda nervous. and by the way, the movie is very beautiful, taylor russell was incredible in this. i highly recommend you.

you lived in an old house in the midwest, the southern gothic type with an empty fridge, broken stairs, carcasses of eaten animals in the garden, a tv too old to be turned on, a radio player too damaged to be listened to , a completely dirty kitchen with dishes full of dishes in the sink, and nasty dirts on the floor. there was also that damn lamp that flickered and came on every other time, that icy water that froze your bones, that cold tiles that creaked under your feets. the windows were rarely open but when they were, the shutters slammed against the wind, your underwear hung over the radiator. but you really liked this place, in fact, it was the only place you could call home without wanting to collapse in tears.

you had your headphones on in that empty quiet space, and a probably dead singer in your ears living through your swaying body. you found this pomegranate on the table while searching. it was intact, still shiny and full of good things.

you didn't need a knife when you had a hungry beast inside you to cut the fruit with your teeths. you had dug your molars inside the seeds, directly into the fresh and virgin skin, opened the eviscerate flesh, tearing away everything you can with your mouth, the still delicious juice ready to feed your thirst and starved your hunger.

you smelled the fruity and juicy scent through your nose, splitted open the pomegranate, discovering the clean and clear inner bones, a pretty red color, even more oozing and sublime than your blood, a perfect complexion reminiscent of the sanguinary meat of your anatomy. your tongue and teeth were sunk in, completely buried in the dripping morsel. your face and cheeks were full of it, shining onto your dirty and sticky fingers. the juice burst, squeezed in your hands as you devoured this fruit, the liquid of which flowed, dripping down your neck and chest, slipping toward your tummy like an unstoppable river.

you were bad as a demon, but nothing stopped you. you bit and bit like a mad dog into the flesh of the fruit like a piece of meat, extracting with your molars everything that you could recover and stuck in your throat.

the more you ate, the more the fruit bled. but you heard nothing, no lamentations. nothing could stop you from eating, from the rage beating. it was sickly, obscene and depraved.

you looked like such an innocent thing, but inside you, there was nothing like that. and you couldn't fool anyone with your tears and your regrets, because you didn't have any.

you had dropped the pomegranate on the ground, there was nothing left except a broken corpse. you had consumed everything from the flesh to the bones, from the skin to every part.

your dress was stained. you stank of pomegranate as much as sin. there was nothing good in you, and above all, there were too many people in you.

rafe had come home in the night while you were waiting in the armchair in the living room, with this juice stuck to your body. you hadn't moved. for some reason you were faithful to your partner. maybe because he scared you, or because you understood that without him you couldn't survive.

he had thrown the key in the table and came before you.

he came toward you in the same state you had seen him for the first time, covered in blood and with glowing blue dilated eyes. you knew that he had eaten, that he had devoured someone because he was not like you. rafe was worse. he understood that nature was to kill but beyond that, it was something he was trying to teach you as your mentor. that we should not regret giving in to impulses, that if we did not listen to them, they would end up killing us.

that we were originally monsters, and that we had to deal with it. you didn't know if he was telling the truth, if he was right. but he was taller than you. you found a maturity in him that fascinated you, that forced you to listen to him.

he had taken off his shirt, and you looked up at his face. he smelled of blood, that strong, metallic smell that you could sniff from several meters away but especially his because you knew him by heart.

“jesus, don’t look at me like that. you wanted to stay at home, i didn't force you to. ”

“it was a girl. what was she like? did you like it ? ”

you didn't know if it was jealousy, or curiosity. you just knew you didn't like knowing he was with some girls even if it wasn't going to last.

with a smirk but at the same time terribly cold face, he answered you. "if you're that jealous, use that energy and mouth to taste it. maybe, you will have some answers. ”

you got up from the chair to join him. you didn't want to share him, even though you knew there was only you in his life. you knew it because since you knew him, he had never talked about his family, nor contacted relatives in the payphone. then, he rarely spoke about his private life. he often made fun of you, because it was more your type of thing to open up about personal moments. you never knew if he was really listening to you but he stayed until the end of your speech.

eagerly, you kissed him, that girl’s blood sliding against your lips, your mouth capturing rafe’s in a kiss, as your cheeks crushed against his bloody face. “ mine, mine.” you whispered, pushing your tongue against his. “ clean that blood, babe. i can't be yours if she's still here. ” he had slipped his hands under your skirt, pressing the flesh of your ass. he had a ring on, the cold metal playing against your skin. you could smell it, just like what he had eaten before coming home.

he sat on the probably moldy and torn couch in your living room, you were almost his height now that you were sitting on top of him. you were hungry, as much for him as for sex. he made you feel so many things, or it was this jealousy, this thirst within you that made you so hungry. you weren’t really sure.

you took one of his fingers still covered in blood, the recent taste of raw flesh now in your cavity. he had pushed his thumb deeper in your mouth, making you suck the pulp properly. the liquid bleeding against your tongue, as his flesh quickly brushed your cavity, your drooling lips curved around him. he pushed it in until he felt your throat.

he was playing with fire, he was playing with you, because he knew you could bite him at any moment but he had also conditioned you not to.

“so, how is it? ”

“nothing tastes better than you.” you simply replied. “ right ? nothing can be as good as me. ” he said in a mocking tone.

he had undone the strap of your dress, revealing one of your tits which he had taken in his palm before taking it in his mouth. your nipple was pressed between his teeth, your skin trapped in his hand as he sucked on your piece of flesh, pinching it only ever so gently in his mouth. he still had remnants of blood, slipping between your body and his tongue.

there was something sensual between this slow sucking, fast suction of the tongue around your throbbing nipple, your spiraling stomach against the void, the movement of his adam's apple in his throat while he tasted every beads of your boobs. rafe was good at it.

he pressed your tits, grabbed them tightly and firmly against his palm, nibbling the tip, caressing the pulp, kissing the flesh. and maybe if he had bitten into it, you would have cum instantly.

his hand was on you, covering your body in blood and sweat, tracing your figure with his soiled and bloody fingers like a canva, letting them run over your skin like a paintbrush.

he was hidden by your sucked breasts. and you wanted him full. you had started to grind against him, even with your underwear separating you from him and his piece of jeans, you managed to be completely soaked on him. your hips moved in motion, lifting delicately like a porcelain doll too afraid of getting hurt.

you were no worse than him, and he was no worse than you. you were both terrible people. there was no hierarchy among people like you.

but the first time you saw him, in that shirt full of blood, with that mouth so red and that oozing dripping neck.

it was dark, but you knew very clearly what he had done, and perfectly well who he had eaten. you had observed it and you had not seen a monster. you weren't afraid.

he wasn't mean and monstruous, just indifferent.

"if you want to eat, that man is still over there." he said simply, not trying to hide or deny what you were seeing.

and you liked it. you instantly liked it.

“ you're the one who interests me.”

“you know the drill, we don’t eat each other.”

“i mean, will you let me come with you?”

"listen to me carefully, i don't have the face of a babysitter, nor the skills to do so. get by, you may be a minor but if you're old enough to do what you do when mom and dad have their backs turned, i swear, you can get through this on your own. ”

“i’m an adult.” you cut him off.

“your age was a nice excuse for me to tell you that i’m not interested. i bet you're an adult. ”

you had followed him when he approached his pickup. "i wouldn't bother you. but i need help. i mean, this is new to me. i don't do this often while you seem to be experienced. i want.. .i want to be like you, not to be afraid of that.”

“what makes you think i’m the right person for this?”

“you may not necessarily be the right person, but you’re the one I want.”

“you know, i already have a lot of problems, i don’t need a burden on all of them.”

“please. i won’t be one. you have my word.”

"you really don't give me a choice. come up crybaby, but if you bother me, i won't hesitate to abandon you, no matter where."

you nodded. it was going back, but in the meantime, you had traveled to many states of america, and probably left a pile of corpses on your way. even though it hadn’t been easy, he had taught you how to drive.

one cold summer night, in the darkness of a tent in the middle of nowhere, you hadn't managed to sleep. but when you opened your eyes, rafe wasn't sleeping either.

“you should sleep, you’re the one driving tomorrow. ”

“you want to know who my first victim was? "

"i guess even if i don't care, you're going to tell me. so go ahead. knock me out, tell me something your little lips haven't told me yet. and don’t say victim, you're much an innocent thing than a killer. but don’t worry, i'm about to raise you very well. ”

his hands had gripped your hips to position you above him. “but for now, tell me about your boring story, maybe it will help me sleep.”

you had told him a lot of your past. the first time you had eaten someone, the babysitter your father had hired who had ended up torn apart on the floor and another part in your mouth. oh it really wasn't beautiful. and this time, in the summer camp where a boy had mysteriously disappeared because you had devoured him in the woods. and that friend at school whose finger you swallowed. it was stronger than you. you needed to eat.

and rafe was the only one to understand it.

the most intimate moments in a relationship should be sex, but for the two of you it was different. it was when you ate together, when you both had blood around your mouth, that you could taste his, and he could taste yours. when there was this connection between you.

he was a different eater from you, he was bestial and cold, sinking his teeth straight into the flesh, tearing off the parts of the body one by one. his bites were mean and cruel. the way, his teeths pulled the organs, the ribcage. you watched him, his hungry raging mouth embracing the darkness of his needs, ripping all the raw meat out roughly. oh the blood, it leaked into every corner of his pretty and bloody lips that you wanted to kiss so badly, to feel the liquid and flesh filling and consuming the space of your throat and your tongue as your body swallowed everything he gave you. oh how much, rafe loved to feed you directly in the mouth, letting you suck the flowing red wet all around his jaw, and down his neck to the cool grass. he was beautiful. insanely handsome. but also, so scary.

his skin was covered in a red, metallic coat. his eyes were consumed with pleasure, while devouring the body of your victim.

he was very different from you, who was more delicate in your movements, or rather clumsy. your bites were messy, your touches lighter, even with the blood all over you.

but it was in those moments that the sex was the best afterwards. when his tongue, still red and famished with blood, circulated over the skin of your stomach, leaving a reddish river against your flesh.

and it went even further than that, when he found himself lost between your legs, his warmth muscle completely buried inside you, lapping your soaked folds, licking you like a starving man, his mouth pressed around your sloppy wet cunt. your juices dripping against his open wided mouth and jaw, the throbbing of your clit against his nose, the way your beating pussy smeared the blood across his lips and cheeks every time he entered and devoured your delicious slick.

since you didn't eat each other, it was your only way to feed him, to make him taste you. you didn't know if he loved your taste but in any case his tongue always came back to find you, to fuck that cunt, lodging itself between your soggy walls.

he forced you to keep your thighs apart, one hand resting on your bruised tummy which contracted every time you felt him on your core.

your legs shaking around his shoulders, the way his bloody mouth nibbled on your clit. you moaned in the middle of this abandoned place. you could shout as loud as you wanted, no one would come, no one would hear you.

you loved feeling his large hands on your bruised skin, especially after eating, because they were dirty and sloppy. you let your tongue clean the blood stuck to his fingers, the drops falling into your mouth.

it was strange how love can be perceived for everyone. ever since you were a child, you have been unable to show affection without hurting people. when you loved someone, it was tragic because you had this need to devour and consume them, to make them a part of you, to make them live within you.

but for rafe, it was different.

you were total opposites. and even though you lived together, you wondered if he felt things for you. if he had ever been in love.

because you liked to think that the way he kept you around, the way he let you stay with him at night, the way he always came home, and was open to doing all these things with you, that was his way to show you that you mattered to him. you even wondered if he came back every night because he couldn't let go of you. yet, at the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't have hesitated.

here, in this rickety house, you didn't pay rent. it belonged to one of your victims. you always did that, you killed people, and robbed them of their belongings. you took their money, clothes and possessions. you were stealing the lives of these people. at first you felt guilty but now you feel nothing. it was life.

“i love you. ” you told him, as you straddled him on your shared bed, your fists curled in the pieces of sheets. “i really love you, rafe.” you were moaning and feverish, every inch of his thick cock buried in your core, hitting your spot.

while you were bouncing on him, your ass slapped against his muscular thighs. he grabbed your breasts moving over his face, as his dick was ruining you, each of his thrusts destroying your canal. you were as tight as the first time he fucked you in the back of the pickup. he gripped your ass, pinching the flesh.

he wrapped his hand around your throat before losing his face in your neck, his mouth kissing that immaculate part of your body. he placed kisses, before lightly sinking his teeths into your skin, nibbling and sucking on this skin offered to him, while you continued to take him just below him. “yea, you love me. ” with a hard stroke further into you. “still fucking tied to me. ”

and he wasn't wrong, you were so glued to him, completely submissive. he was inside you, filling you completely, every part of his length stuck to your walls, parting your pussy lips, your moans muffled above his head as your arms wrapped around his back. you were desperate and whimpering, the wet sounds of your repeated moans echoing around the room.

you could feel the twitch of his stomach against your skin, the perfect harmony of your two bodies in sync, he speared you violently with his fat cock, let you hear his grunts and heavy breathing against your neck, coming straight from his throat.

you were sweaty and noisy, like one of his victims, but most of all, you were his, his hands all over your body like a prize. every touch was possessive, your head tilted back, and his mouth melted onto your jaw. he fucked you roughly, making you bounce on him and cry.

his blue eyes shone in the darkness of the room. they were on you, in a perfect focus.

“do you love me? " you asked him, your body going through trembling spasms, your skin covering his. you were desperate and suffocating. your breaths were rapid and frantic.

he moved your head with his hand on your throat, his gaze flickering above your collarbones. you felt like you were pretty with the importance his pupils gave you.

you wondered if he had ever wanted to eat you alive, because after all, even if you were an eater, you were still easy prey.

and maybe even sometimes you fantasized about what he could do, because you wouldn't have minded seeing him dug his teeth into your flesh like meat, seeing him consume you one by one, your bones getting sucked, your blood spurting against his tooth.

you would have loved to sacrifice your body to feed him, to be that pomegranate to him, to see him smile through your organs, to see his belly swell because you were in a thousand pieces inside.

you would have loved for him to eat you alive, because you knew rafe would have done it out of love.

“ don't leave me or i will eat you. ” you said to him, his hands brushing your hair like a lover. “ every part of you. like you taught me. ”

“ bones and all ? ”

“ bones and all, my love. ”

and he smiled, fucking smiled all over your kisses, his lips covered yours.

“ then, what are you waiting for ? sunk those teeths in me. scared for what, babe ? nothing that you have not tasted before.”

504 notes · View notes

the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou

1K notes · View notes

blvdheart · 6 months ago

Text

THE S. STANDS FOR SLUT

⇢ Leon’s been a horndog over every single one of his coworkers except for you. Your pent up anger finally pays off after you finish a mission with him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, fucking in a forest, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 1k

NOTE: i won’t be able to get any other fics out until like after a week from now. feel free to send ideas for bots…kind of need some. hopefully the video as a header works in the tags if not i’ll change it (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

MASTERLIST

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Employee of the month? Nah. More like (wannabe) whore of the headquarters. That’s what you deemed Leon to be.

Okay, maybe he didn’t fit your description perfectly, though. It’s not like he got any pussy or dick because they all turned him down. Either way, you couldn’t stand him. The man was practically flirting with anyone who had a developed frontal lobe and yet he had never once made a move on you.

Had it been any other man, you’d be over the moon about it because hello? Who wants a guy who’s trying to get into everyone’s pants? But it’s Leon…the same one who makes a sticky river gush whenever he glances your way.

The fact he didn’t even compliment you made you upset. It wasn’t in a depressing ‘what do they have that I don’t?’ type of way. You were pretty pissed, actually. Maybe he was trying to tick you off on purpose.

Being sent on a mission with him was your last straw.

The tension was palpable. He was such an asshole for messing around with you even during a life threatening scenario! Pinning you against surfaces like you were some damsel in distress, which he knew you weren’t, he’d smirk all smugly when you shoved him off and scowled at him. All the banter got him riled up. What a woman you were. His type to a tee. Felt blood rushing south whenever you handled your gun with expertise.

Like, he wanted to fuck you raw until you needed his help to walk but he also wanted you to slap him around and yank on his hair until he was reduced to a begging mess. Talk about duality. One thing at a time, he must be patient.

He’s not a moron when it comes to your feigned indifference at his antics. If he lacked observational skills, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. You gave him an ego boost. It’s almost like he could see the steam coming right out of your ears whenever he was buttering someone else up, bonus points if it was the receptionist.

Sometimes you got the urge to smack his earpiece comm. Only then would you be spared from Leon's pathetic attempts at flirting with Hunnigan. She’s not interested, Leon!

Anyways.

Mission accomplished. Chopper? Late like usual, what’s new? Here you and Leon were outside in the middle of fucking nowhere, sitting on a log like you were on a camping trip. Yeah, well the tent and high spirit is missing.

You were on edge, and Leon’s idle whistling broke you. God, what a tiny thing to get upset over.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You were so done with him. Why was he sitting so close to you when there was tons of space on the log? His knee was brushing up against yours.

Leon let out an amused huff, giving your forehead a flick just to spite you.

“So uptight, bet you haven’t gotten dicked down in a while. That’s what you need to blow off some steam.”

“You’re one to talk, when’s the last time you got laid? Last time I checked, your attempts at whoring around have been completely unsuccessful.”

“Ah, so the princess has been keeping tabs on me? How cute. Consider me flattered.”

“I wasn’t.“ You rolled your eyes, glaring at him. “It doesn’t take much effort to figure it out, you just wanna get your dick wet.”

“What, are you obsessed with my dick or something? Jealous?”

“No! Ugh…you’re so fucking gross, Leon.” Giving him a shove on the shoulder didn’t move him at all. He curled a hand around your waist and brought you closer, his lips right against your ear.

“Maybe I don’t have much game, but at least I’m not being a little bitch about it. You just need someone to fuck all that sass outta ya, sweetheart.”

Okay. Wow. Maybe his voice was his superpower because that’s all you could focus on now. Were you really in a forest if you could no longer hear the rustling of tall and mighty trees or the distant buzzing and yapping of insects and birds?

And maybe his voice was hypnotic too because you don’t know how the hell you ended up on your fucking hands and knees. Ouch, your fingers hurt from the way they dug into the dirt but the way Leon was hitting your sweet spot made up for it.

His right glove was all damp from the way he had ground his palm against your clit just a couple minutes prior.

You were both still clothed, just having your pants down enough so you could get to the point.

There was a reason Leon liked you so much, you weren’t all that high maintenance, and you were actually fun. Would any of those receptionists with freshly manicured nails and keratin treatment on their hair be okay with getting dirt and leaves all over them? No! They’d want to fuck in a lavish bedroom with candles and shitty romantic songs playing. Instant boner killer.

His dick wouldn’t get hard for any woman who wasn’t you after this. He didn’t wanna waste a single load, no, they all had to be dumped into you.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just asked. Could’ve been going at it like rabbits ages ago.”

“I like it better when you don’t talk.” You gritted in response, reaching a hand back to slap the one he had on your hip. He liked the way you bit back, yeah, it had him twitching inside you.

“That right? Your pussy has a mind of its own then, got allllll nice and tight around me right now. She’s begging for me.”

You had always been Leon’s wet dream, but that fantasy felt nowhere as good as the real thing. He has no issue letting you know, either, he’s always had a big mouth.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, bet I’m the first one to stretch it all out.”

“Been looking at your tits all day, don’t they hurt after bouncing from all this running?” He snaked his hand up your shirt and squeezed your chest, rolling the flesh between his fingers before giving one of your hard nipples a pinch.

If you weren’t losing grasp of reality you would’ve been able to notice the distant sounds of rotor blades whirling around.

“Hear that, sweetheart? We gotta hurry.”

Yeah you’d rather die than be found getting fucked by Leon Slut Kennedy. You always thought those facial expressions pornstars made were unrealistic, but now you were mimicking it without much effort. If you snapped a shot of it you’d be famous on Twitter. How embarrassing, or maybe flattering?

“Atta girl, you like it nasty huh?” His hand wrapped around your throat like it was your personal collar and his murmured growl of your name had you seeing stars. He came inside you, pumping you with everything and slapping your ass before pulling your panties up so his load was trapped with you.

What a bastard.

The chopper ride back to HQ was uncomfortable with his cum plugging you up like a damn toy.

“You, me, hotel room after this?” Leon asked all cheekily as he nudged your shoulder, too busy looking at the way you had your legs crossed instead of the pretty view outside the window.

Maybe he’d finally get a good old slap to the face from you like he deserved while you rode him.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

631 notes · View notes

portraitofalinkonfyre · 4 months ago

Text

The Nights

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): none, but reader is assumed female for having a period.

Notes: Written for the bestest big sis ever, @h4wari, ALSO inspired by the song "Some Say" by Nea

Masterlist

It had been a day.

A terrible, rotten, no-good day that had you wishing for the ground to simply swallow you up once and for all. Not even Wind's cheerful chatter could assuage the annoyance you felt upon waking up before the sun to an unholy pain in your abdomen and tell-tale stickiness on the seat of your pants. It was only by the grace of whatever deities existed that you managed to sneak away from the group with your dignity intact, several thick rags stuffed in your tunic. The nearby river was mercifully abandoned as you took care of business, grumbling about the throbbing in your lower half.

The rest of the afternoon passed similarly, with you distinctly remembering silencing several of Twilight's concerned gazes, his nose slightly wrinkled, with a look patented specifically for situations like these, all the while dodging Wind's queries on why you were walking funny. The sailor's worry was cute, you had to admit, but it was the last thing you wanted to experience when you were currently aching and bleeding.

That didn't mean there weren't saving graces, of course. You had nearly cheered when multiple breaks were taken for seemingly no reason and almost shed tears when it was suggested that the group stay at the inn of the town you were passing through.

"Rough day?"

You practically jumped when Legend plopped down beside you, hands resting in his lap as he gazed curiously at you. You shrugged, bracing yourself when the log rocked slightly at the added weight. The sun shone through the gaps of the trees like a beacon, bathing you in tangerine light; you had been unable to relax in your room, so the log at the back of the inn seemed the next best place.

"It's fine," your stomach throbbed in a way that was undoubtedly not fine. "I'm fine."

"Funny, because I don't believe you," Legend said like he was merely pointing out the weather, and your neck nearly cracked with the force with which you turned to glare at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Unexcused," he said without missing a beat. Your eye twitched. "I'm not a child, (Y/n)–"

"You sure act like it–"

"–And I can tell when someone's in pain," there was a sharp look in his eyes that you weren't sure you liked, especially when another spike of pain tore through your abdomen, followed by a rush of wetness that had you wishing for death. "Especially when it's someone I know."

You raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide your discomfort. The way his violet eyes studied your face was unnerving, but you couldn't help but notice the other emotion lurking at the very center of his gaze.

Was it...concern? The very thought seemed preposterous--a mere wish taken from the depths of your subconscious--but the longer you looked, the longer you knew it was true.

Legend was concerned for you, and you had no fucking idea how to proceed. If there was any comfort in the terrible reality of having periods, it was that you always knew what to do when they arrived, but now, you were floundering. Badly.

What were you to do? Console him? Tell him to fuck off and mind his own damn business? Ask what in Hyrule had possessed him?

Legend's mouth moved once more, and you realized he was going to decide for you.

"I have something for you."

You blinked. Twice, then thrice.

"You have what?"

"Something," he shrugged, not bothering to elaborate as he rifled through his pack. "For you."

"...That's ominous," you said, not quite knowing how to proceed. On one hand, it was sweet, but on the other... "Dare I ask what you're plotting?"

Legend paused to fix you with an unamused gaze. "Woooow, can't a guy be generous without criticism?"

"Not when it's you," you shot back, wincing when a terrible shock shot up your spine. It was simultaneously too hot and too cold, and you were practically on your last wits.

"I'm generous all the time," the Vet scoffed. "You just never noticed."

"Because you're an asshole."

"So are you," he rolled his eyes, and you were forced to accept the terrible predicament of him being right, though it didn't stop you from gaping and wondering why his head hadn't exploded from the sheer rage in your gaze. "Here."

All your thoughts skidded to a stop when he tossed a gray square-shaped object into your lap. It was soft and round, with gentle edges, but the most startling observation you made was how warm it was. You lifted the square, marveling in the sheer amount of heat soaking into your palms.

"It's a heat pack," Legend explained quietly, averting his eyes from your face, expression uncharacteristically shy. "It's supposed to help with cramps and... all that."

All that.

You were silent, holding his gift like the treasure it was. It had been so long since anyone had been this thoughtful, and the fact that it was from Legend, of all people, baffled you to no end.

"Why?" you asked... and immediately felt dumb for it; you understood why, it was just...

"Because you're a lot less annoying when you're not in pain," Legend responded and you paused to contemplate what exactly you had seen in him. It wasn't a secret that he was blunt and snarky, just as capable of being a true asshole as he was being a decent person.

"Right," you studied the square for a long moment. "Where did you even get this?"

There was a pause.

Your eyebrows shot skyward when he blushed. The Veteran, king of sarcasm and plentiful digs at one's character, grew redder than his tunic in the face of a simple question. One thing was clear; whatever his answer was, it would be good.

"Legend."

Silence, save for the rustling trees and swaying grasses. You shielded your eyes against a stray ray of sunlight, biting your lip when another bout of pain stabbed your stomach.

"It's not going to work unless you use it," the Vet mumbled, still refusing to look at you. You immediately placed the pack against your abdomen, and, fuck, did it feel good. It was a battle unto itself to keep any... pleasured noises at bay when delicious warmth soaked directly into your poor, tired muscles.

Violet eyes flicked to you, then back down to the grass by his boots. You pretended not to see anything.

"Thank you," the words felt thick on your tongue. "This... thank you."

"It's nothing," the hero responded slowly, though the flush on his cheeks hinted that it was anything but. It was cute that he was so flustered, even if he was also being a jerk about it. "...I should go inside."

You watched him stand, deftly wiping imaginary dust from legs, and considered letting the moment end. It was late, and you were exhausted.

But.

"You made it, didn't you?"

Legend froze, boots kicking up some grass from how hard he stopped. You stayed quiet as he stood with his back to you, nearly motionless. A long minute passed before he turned, cheeks pinker than a cherry blossom tree at the height of spring.

"Yeah."

You pressed the pack closer, relishing as more heat swept into your aching skin. "How?"

"Does it matter?" Legend's response was sharp as his arms crossed over his chest, and it was a response you knew well. He had always been guarded, even when no one was there to hurt him.

"Maybe," you said, smiling ever-so-slightly. It felt good to grin again, like life had finally decided to act in your favor. "I'm just curious."

Legend rolled his eyes, lips twisting into a sneer that was so unadulteratedly him that you had to look away for a second, though the expression didn't reach his eyes, which were bright and focused. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that curiosity killed the remlit?"

"Just now," you managed a chuckle when he blinked, clearly not expecting a response. "But satisfaction brought it back."

The Hero of Legends was silent, until the mask cracked and a low chuckle escaped him. Maybe it was the dusk, casting a golden glow on his skin, or the breeze, ruffling his strawberry-blonde hair in a manner than would never not be him, but you felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to enact a move only accomplished in fairytales and dreams.

You rose to your feet, clutching the pack closer as your muscles screamed in protest, and hobbled over to him, one hand resting on the smooth fabric covering his right shoulder. Legend stiffened, eyes widening when you pressed the softest of kisses to his cheek. He stuttered something, cheeks practically exploding with color, but you were already gone, headed to your room with warm cheeks and a satisfied expression.

Legend knew he was in deep shit.

He had watched you all day, noting the way you clutched your stomach when you thought no one was looking, or the face you made when Wild mused about making stew for the fifth time in a row. Don't get him wrong, he loved stew, but the expression on your face was enough to have him butting in to suggest they expand their culinary horizons to fried rice. Twilight, the bastard, had given him a shockingly astute gaze, followed by a soft head tilt in your general direction, but Legend had contained himself impressively, only responding with a certain finger pointedly raised in the air.

When night had fallen, he followed you out of the inn for some goddess-forsaken reason, clutching an item he had spent an embarrassing amount of time making. Heat packs weren't difficult to enchant, but the process was nonetheless finicky--with a single wrong move capable of rendering the thing useless--and he wasn't interested in handing you anything but the best. He had a reputation to uphold, for Hylia's sake!

Until you kissed him.

It wasn't even romantic, the Vet reasoned, just a gesture of appreciation from you to him. Nothing more, nothing less. That is, if he had been able to excuse the feeling of your lips against the skin of his cheek as anything but perfect, so soft and warm that it threw him for a loop for a solid minute. It had been a miracle that he hadn't collapsed on the spot, still reeling from the situation.

And now, even as he walked down the moonlit hallway to his room, the thoughts of you were still there. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Kiss you? Confess the crush he had been nursing for weeks? Ignore everything and pretend he was above this like he always did?

No, Legend reasoned, hand falling on the doorknob. He was many things, but a coward wasn't one of them. He pushed the door open, only to freeze when he caught sight of what was inside.

It was you, because who else would it be, with a look of barely-disguised realization on your face. An identical room key dangled from your grasp, and Legend could have cursed whoever decided to give that damn rancher control of room assignments for the night.

"...I can explain," you began, though it was obvious you couldn't. The key jingled when you brought it up to the light. "Twilight–"

"Yeah," Legend cut you off with a short wave, closing the door behind him. The silence was deafening, and just staring at each other was getting really awkward. "He's an ass."

"I wouldn't say an 'ass'," you chided, though it was half-hearted at best. Legend noticed you were bereft of your usual tunic, dressed in only a shirt with no sleeves and some ratty trousers. He couldn't recall seeing you like this before, but it wasn't an unwelcome change. The subtle bulge around your abdomen indicated that you had made good use of the pack, and that was pleasing in its own right. "...But he doesn't skimp on causing trouble."

"...So he's an ass."

You snorted, embarrassment fading as you rested your hands on your hips. "Har har, very funny."

"I wasn't joking."

"You were."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"N–"

"You're fucking lucky I don't have the mental fortitude for this right now."

Legend fell silent, finally noticing the bags under your eyes, not to mention the way you seemed to hunch in on yourself, one hand pressed to your belly, and it was enough to make him actually consider his next words carefully.

"...Is it working?"

He knew it was a dumb question, but someone had to ask it.

Your expression softened and you nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear, gaze flicking to the bed. Legend tried not to blush any more than he already was. "...It's getting late."

"...Yeah."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It was a sound he had heard many times, typically when someone had decided to be a pain in the ass, but he had always tried to keep it from being directed specifically at him. "Don't look so scared, I'm not kicking you out."

Legend blinked. "You... aren't?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not," your tone was light, and it made him feel a bit better about the situation. "We can share."

Share. Share.

He was familiar with the word, of course, and it would have been no big deal with literally anyone else, but the thought of sharing a bed with you was... well, it seemed too good to be true.

"Unless you're uncomfortable," you amended quickly, the tiniest hint of red blooming over your cheeks. "I'm sure Wind and Four–"

"No!" Legend could have cursed himself for sounding so desperate, but the mere thought of spending the night alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I mean–... we can share."

You nodded, the ghost of a smile on your lips, and made your way to the bed. The sheets rustled as you slipped beneath them, shuffling over to make room for him. Legend used those few precious seconds to remove his boots and red tunic, setting them carefully atop the provided dresser next to your own clothes. His belt was placed next to the pile, the edge hanging down to brush the hilt of his sword.

By the time he was ready for bed, you had already dozed off, curled on your side with both arms around your stomach. Legend allowed himself to smile, sliding into the empty spot beside your form. The bed was firm enough to be comfortable, not to mention a lot less lumpy than expected, but he would have slept on the floor itself if you were there.

A quiet whimper broke through the silence.

Legend shot up like a spring, scanning the room for threats before focusing his gaze on you. The bed creaked as you rolled onto your back with a noise of discomfort, brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut. Your shoulders trembled noticeably and his heart felt like it was being stretched in a million directions.

You were cold, in pain, or possibly both.

Legend knew he had to fix it.

With ninja-like stealth, he crept from the bed, snagging his tunic off the dresser. You made another noise when he tucked the item around your form like a second blanket, pulling the comforter all the way up to your chin, deftly ignoring the somersaulting feeling in his stomach at the sight of his tunic over you. It was neither the time nor place to be pleased at... whatever this was, so Legend smoothed the bedsheets and settled atop them. It was a warm night, so he wasn't worried about getting chilled as he pulled you close, arms encircling your form.

A sigh left your mouth and your head turned to the side, settling in the junction between his neck and shoulder like you belonged there. You were asleep, the Vet knew, and would likely not remember any of this come morning, but he allowed himself to lay his head just above yours, letting your scent wash over him as he fell into the best sleep of his life.

I just realized that Twi is literally a wingman in every one of my stories, he'll get his turn eventually <33

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #the chain x reader #lu x reader #lu legend x reader #period cramps #menstruation

210 notes · View notes

v4mpgutz · 1 year ago

Text

HOW TO DISAPPEAR, Rafe Cameron [ DRABBLES ]

— i know he's in over his head, but i love that man like nobody can

rafe cameron x ditzy gf reader

warnings — sfw + nsfw hcs, slightly mean rafe, ditzy (silly, forgetful) reader, corruption, choking, blood mention, dacryphilia, petnames (baby, sweets), dumbification, piv sex

note: *laughing manically* its time to give the people what they want

rafe never really thought he'd be in a committed relationship. it wasn't that he preferred non-commitment or that he didn't like being tied down — he just had some form of abandonment issues which he would never admit to.

so one day when ward welcomes you into tannyhill as wheezie's new babysitter (sarah was running around with pogue's and he didn't trust rafe), rafe is a stuttering mess at first. he saw you, this innocent, silly little thing who seemed as pure as a baby lamb and decided maybe he did want to date someone.

when you two began dating, he very quickly realised that you seemed a little out of your head at times. you were very clumsy, causing accidents such as running into doors to happen often.

-> you sat on the counter in front of rafe, sniffling and wiping stray tears from your cheeks as he gently applied rubbing alcohol to the bloody gash on your hand where you'd chopped a little more than just capsicum.

"such a clumsy little thing, huh?" rafe teased with a chuckle as he gently patted your thigh once he finished. "gotta be payin' more attention, baby," he tutted with a shake of his head. "stop bein' so up in the clouds, yeah?"

rafe absolutely thrived off of you coming to him for any kind of help but especially when you forgot things. you often forgot specific chores ward and rose would ask you to do while you babysat wheezie and would hurry up to rafe's room for help.

-> "rafey," he'd hear you whine from the doorway and turn around with a raised brow.

"whatcha want, sweets?" he asked you, tongue poking his cheek as he bit back a smirk. he already knew what you came to him for and god he'd be lying if he said he didn't love it.

"forgot what ward wanted me t'do..." you mumbled with a frown, brows pinched together as you tried to think but to no avail.

"don't you remember?" rafe chuckled lowly as he approached you, large hands coming to hold your waist as his thumb rubbed circles into your hip. "he said you don't have to do anything today other than watchin' wheeze."

— NSFW

it wasn't true, of course. but rafe knew how ward was when you didn't complete chores and he loved to see you crying when you'd get scolded. you'd come running into his arms like always, crying into his chest as he tried to hide his boner that strained against his shorts.

sometimes rafe was gentle with you, thrusting slowly which had you crying out and scratching his biceps. feeling every inch of him with the slow pace as he buried himself deeper inside you. he loved when your brain would practically grow numb, eyes rolling around in your head as you whimpered and whined.

-> "feels good, huh?" he laughed and continued to push his hips forward and back again, slowly pistoning inside your sensitive heat. "so good i've turned you completely dumb for me. stupid little doll, right?"

all you could do was let out a whine as your muscles convulsed, eyes cloudy with tears of pleasure. rafe brought a hand to your neck, squeezing the sides. small little black dots filled your vision as he cut off your oxygen, not enough for you to pass out. a strangled moan escaped your lips as he chuckled and sped up, slapping your face gently.

"come on, baby," he grinned as he let out a few groans of his own. "look at me. awe, y'can't can you? too dumbed out to even see."

WHEWWWW LORD this was fun to write i am sweating ahahaahahahhhskkdf i need him rn

tags: @ladyinbl00d

comment to be added :o

#— river's sticky notes ✩˚｡⋆#fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #drew starkey

410 notes · View notes

mxtxfanatic · 4 months ago

Text

Wei Wuxian the Girls Girl

Usually in a danmei, I am used to seeing the main male characters only really interact with male characters. Even nameless background characters are more likely to be boys and men than girls and women (funnily enough, it's the opposite gender ratio in baihe). In mdzs, though, Wei Wuxian interacts with girls and women, and he interacts with them often! He knows how to put them at ease:

They wore bamboo baskets on their backs, linen shirts, and straw shoes; they had the rustic, earthy appearance of rural villagers from head to toe . Among them was an almost delicate and pretty young woman with a round face, who had perhaps walked under the harsh sun for too long and wanted to sit in the shade and drink some water. But when she saw the donkey tied to the tree, braying and stomping discontently, and the wild-haired lunatic with red and white pigment smeared all over his face sitting next to it, she became frightened and wouldn’t approach. Wei Wuxian had always considered himself protective and caring of women, so seeing her state, he moved to create space for her and went to bother the donkey. Only once the travellers saw he was harmless did they relax and come near. ... The cultivators had now rested enough and were preparing to take off. Before they left, the round-faced young woman took a half- green, half-red apple from the basket on her back and passed it to Wei Wuxian. “This is for you.”

—Chapt. 6: Pride I, fanyiyi

Some of the women were old and some were young, but all grew nervous when they saw an unfamiliar young man approaching and looked as though they wanted to toss aside their baskets and flee inside. Only after Wei Wuxian said a few smiling words did they gradually calm down and shyly reply to him. When he pointed at the slab of rock and asked a question, all of their faces turned uniformly pale, and only after a great deal of hesitation did they begin to answer him, stammering and gesticulating. All the while, they refused to look at Lan Wangji, who was standing near the stone, any more than necessary. Wei Wuxian listened attentively, one corner of his mouth uplifted the entire time. Once they were finished and the subject changed, the women returned to their original color, gradually relaxed, and smiled at him artlessly.

—Chapt. 33: Flora I, fanyiyi

He knows how to harmlessly charm (or annoy lol) them to get something out of them, but also repays the kindness:

As though he hadn’t just fought water ghosts and fled from the mouth of a watery abyss, he calmly and confidently shot flirtatious smiles at the river’s two shores. “Sisters, how much for half a kilo of loquats?” He was very young, and had a bright, dashing appearance that glowed with vitality and spirit: veritably a frolicking peach blossom chasing after the flow of the river. A smile bloomed on the face of a woman nearby, and she pulled up her bamboo hat. “Oh, you little charmer, how about I give you one free of charge?” The notes of Wu in her voice were pure, sweet and soft like sticky rice. From her lips sprang touching melodies, filling the ears of those who listened with fragrance. Wei Wuxian cupped his hands and said, “Naturally, anything Sister wishes to give to me, I want!” The woman reached into her basket and felt for a round golden loquat, which she tossed toward him. “No need to be polite. It’s for your good looks!” Swiftly, the boats sailed toward each other, the hulls brushing by as they passed. Wei Wuxian turned, caught the loquat head on and grinned. “You’re even more pretty!”

—Chapt. 17: Elegance VII, fanyiyi

When Lan Wangji lifted his head again, he even saw Wei Wuxian pull out something from his robes and give it to the woman who had spoken the most. ... “If you ask someone a lot of questions, you have to give them a gift to thank them for their trouble. Originally, I was going to give them some silver, but they got scared and didn’t want to take it. I found that they liked the smell of the rouge. They didn’t seem as though they’ve used that type of thing before, so I gave it to them.”

—Chapt. 33: Flora I, fanyiyi

Lan Jingyi waved his hand. “Quiet! What happened to Wei Wuxian? What did that devil do? Did he kidnap her?” he said urgently. “No, not that,” Lan Sizhui replied. “He specifically set off for Tanzhou from Yunmeng to see the Lady of Ephemerals. He came to the garden to recite poetry. But every time he did, he would intentionally make a mistake and provoke her into hitting him with a flower and throwing him out. When he woke up, he would crawl back in again and continue his loud and incorrect poetry recitation. After repeating this twenty or so times, he finally saw the lady’s face clearly. He then left and ran around singing praises to her beauty. But he had also angered her so much that she refused to come out for a long, long time. Every time she saw him, she pelted him with a blizzard of flowers—a truly stunning sight...”

—Chapt. 45: Beauty III, fanyiyi

Wei WuXian grinned, “I heard all of them call you MianMian, so I thought that it’s your name. What, it’s not?” ... MianMian’s cheeks flushed, “You can’t call me that!” Wei WuXian, “Why not? How about this: if you tell me your name, I won’t call you MianMian anymore. What do you think?” MianMian, “Why do I have to tell you just because you asked? Before you ask for somebody else’s name, you should tell them your name first, shouldn’t you?” Wei WuXian, “Sure, if you want my name. Remember, my name is ‘YuanDao’.” MianMian silently pronounced the name ‘YuanDao’ a few times. She couldn’t remember if the young master of any sect had such a name. But, judging from the boy’s air and appearance, she didn’t think he was the average disciple. Looking at the teasing smile at the corners of Wei WuXian’s lips, she didn’t know what was going on. Suddenly, Lan WangJi’s low voice came from beside them, “A play on words.” She realized at once that it had been taken from the poetry line ‘its ceaseless bounds yearn for miles and miles on’ and he was making fun of her. She stomped her feet in spite, “Who’s yearning for you? You have no face!” The girls collapsed into a laughing mess, chirping, “Wei WuXian, you really have no face!” “I’ve never seen someone as annoying as you!” “Let me tell you, she’s called...” MianMian dragged them away and turned to leave, “Let’s go, let’s go! You can’t tell it to him.” Wei WuXian shouted from behind, “You can go, but give me a sachet, won’t you?! You’re ignoring me? You don’t want to? If you don’t, I’ll find other people and ask for your name. There must be someone out there who’s willing to tell me...” Before he finished, a perfume sachet flew over from in front of him. It landed right in the middle of his chest.

—Chapt. 52: Courage, exr

The boys responded in the same way, before all nudging at Wei WuXian, “Shixiong, they’re calling you! They’re calling you!” Wei WuXian looked carefully. Indeed, the women had encountered them before while he was leading the group. His mood immediately lifted and he stood up to wave, grinning, “What’s up!?” The boat drifted alongside the water’s currents. The women followed it on the shore, chatting, You boys went to steal lotus seed pods again, didn’t you!?” ... As the two argued, another one of the women called out, “Was it good?” Wei WuXian managed to reply, “What?” The woman, “The watermelon we gave you. Was it good?” Wei WuXian realized, “So you were the ones who gave us the watermelon. It was delicious! Why didn’t you come in and sit? We could’ve poured you some tea!” The woman smiled, “You lot weren’t there when we visited, so we left without going in. I’m glad to hear it tasted good!” Wei WuXian, “Thank you!” He fished out a couple of big seed pods from the bottom of the boat, “Here are some lotus seed pods. Next time you visit, come me and watch me train!”

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

He even hangs out with them unprompted, specifically choosing their company in some cases:

Back in Yunmeng, many girls from the Jiang Clan had envied him because he was going to go study with Lan Wangji. They had said that the Gusu Lan Clan produced generation after generation of beautiful men, and that among his generation, the Twin Jades were uncommonly beautiful.

—Chapt. 14: Elegance IV, fanyiyi

Wei WuXian, “It’s me! Someone who does such a ridiculous thing has to be me. Where did you find the time to come to Yunmeng? If you’re not busy, come up here and have a drink?” A few girls encircled him, all cramped onto the divan, laughing at those down below, “Yeah, Young Master, come up here and have a drink!” The girls were the ones who tossed flowers at him earlier on. There was no need to say who was the person that told them to do such a thing.

—Chapt. 71: Departure, exr

Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!” The shidi were in awe, “So that’s why! What a lesson. You have so much experience with these things, Shixiong!” “You can tell he does this on a regular basis!”

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

And lest we forget his track record of protecting all of the good named female characters at some point or other during the course of the novel: Mianmian against Wang Lingjiao, Jiang Yanli against Jin Zixuan, and Wen Qing against the whole of the cultivation world. Truly a girls girl if ever I've seen one!

#xiantober #mdzs #human metas mxtx #happy bday wwx from me 💝#title is obviously a joke lol #but wwx really spends so much of his time around women #without it being a sexual/romantic thing for him #like he truly just enjoys their company!

187 notes · View notes

stormhearty · 1 year ago

Text

Pairings: Former Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Triggers: nightmares, mentions of blood, death, depression

Summary: It has been several years since your death and your tenth death anniversary is coming up once more. It had, and always will be, a difficult time for the Inner Circle — the regret and remorse evident in the River House. Even though it had been a decade, the evidence of the loss of your light still echoed heavily throughout Pyrthian. Here are how the Inner Circle copes and mourns during the death anniversary.

Note: From this request! Thank you for sending this request and for loving Pushed to the Edge! I do hope this is a bit of extra angst for the ending. It's mostly in Azriel and a bit of Rhysand's POV. We all know that Feyre mourns often the reader's death (since she goes to Day Court during the burial), so I thought it would be good just to mostly focus on Azriel's and a bit of Rhysand's. Also, the meanings of the flowers I placed in the description for Helion’s ceremony for the reader’s death:

Calla - beauty Cattail - peace White Heather - protection Purple Hyacinths - sorrow Ivy - affection White Poppies - Consolation, eternal sleep Tea and dark crimson roses - Mourning and I’ll always remember Sweetpea & Cyclamen - Goodbye, departure Amaryllis - Pride Pink Carnations - I’ll never forget you Iris - Your friendship means so much to me

I hope you all enjoy!

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

His hands shook as they dripped in blood, warm and sticky. Hazel hues followed the trail of blood to a familiar body.

A cry of grief escaped his lips as he crawled over to your body, Truth-Teller piercing through your chest. Your body was unmoving from its prone position. Azriel gently cradled your body in his arms, tears blurring his vision as he looked at your features — one that was etched with so much pain that his heart ached at the sight of it.

“I’m so sorry, my love… I… I’m sorry that I abandoned you, I’m sorry for my infidelity towards you… I’m sorry that I killed you. I’m just… so sorry…” He was sorry for many things. There were too many things he could apologize for but none of them he could whisper to you to bring you back to him. He would have to pay for his transgressions for the rest of his immortal life — the Gods would never give him another chance with her; the Gods would never gift him with another mate as amazing as her.

He was about to press another kiss against your forehead only to watch shadows, his shadows, rise from the ground and slowly start to wrap around your body.

Azriel growled at them, “Leave us alone, leave her with me.. that's all I ask. Don't you fucking dare take her…!”

They didn't listen to him as tendrils of darkness fully wrapped your body before taking your body in whips of shadow. He tried to grab your body before it disappeared but failed.

“No…!!!”

Azriel woke up with a start, chest heaving as he painted, his hand stretched out as if to grab something — your body — from the shadows. His body wracked with a strong shiver, before he slumped against the headboard, a groan escaping his chest as he ran his hand over his face.

Another nightmare.

Every night, for the last decade, he would dream of you — in all different scenarios — ones he would have you in his arms, in bed, sweet and gentle moments; others ( and most of the time ) it was your death, feeling the echo of the mating bond resonate in his chest, watching your body die in his arms, or even watching himself stab you through your heart.

Ever since that fateful day, he has not gotten a decent night’s sleep. Dark circles stained underneath his hazel eyes and those hazel eyes, that used to shine for you, have dullened. Very little things had made him brighten up nowadays — probably the only thing was the birth of his nephew, Nyx. And Nyx has been the only thing that has kept him surviving all these years — along with living with the guilt and pain of your death.

Azriel let out a muffled sob, pressing a hand against his lips as he allowed the nightmare to pass wracks of shivers through his body. Hazel hues shifting from his sweat-stained bed to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the glow of the full moon beaming down into his room.

He knew he wasn't going to get another wink of sleep tonight. Slipping out of bed, bare feet pressing against the cool wooden floors, he slipped on a simple black tee and sweatpants before stepping out of his room, and down the spiral staircase to the massive garden of the River House.

Azriel usually avoided the gardens, knowing that Elain would be there tending to them.

Their relationship was non-existent at this point. After your death, he cut off all contact and interactions with her, feeling disgusted with himself with even just the sight of her.

For the first couple of months, Elain tried to rebuild her relationship with the Inner Circle; however, after her lies were exposed, it had been a tough road. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel had ignored her, to the point that Rhysand had ordered Elain to live in the old Townhouse to give comfort to the rest of the family. She would only come to the River House when Feyre would ask her to help tend the gardens. Otherwise, even the Archeron sisters had little contact with the middle sister.

Azriel’s feet led him to a familiar part of the gardens, the only place he would go to that would calm the echo of the empty mating bond in his chest.

After your burial, Feyre sent the image of the statue that Helion had created in your making to the Inner Circle. And in honor of you, Rhysand made one as well — a statue of you, but in Night Court fashion — the opposite of your image in Day Court. Wearing a dark blue dress, one covered with stars, with a moon circlet on your head.

Azriel basked in the statue’s liking to you, seeing the moon’s light radiate behind the statue like a halo made him smile — just a tiny bit. He shifted, sitting down on the bench that was in front of the statue. He leaned forward, pressing his elbows onto his thighs.

“…Hi my love…” he whispered as he looked up at the statue, “Another nightmare… brings me to you.”

A sigh escaped his lips as he felt tears prick the edge of his eyes, and he blinked to fight them away. He has fought so many tears every night, that Azriel felt like his whole body had dried up with how many tears he had shed since your death. He knows he shouldn’t complain, that his grief was evidence that he deserved all the things he had done to you. We all will continue to live with our betrayal. Live and regret, as Rhysand and Cassian told him that day.

Staring back up at the statue, his eyes glanced up at the twinkling stars above Valeris and muttered the singular wish, a wish he had wished for every year, “I hope that at Starfall I will see your light twinkling in the skies above, where you will streak across that beautiful night sky, finding your peace…”

After sitting in front of that statue for several hours, he decided to fly up to the House of Wind to the training balcony and train there. He forgone his black shirt and focused on his training, using every ounce of pain and grieving to train. He stayed up there, time passing quickly until he felt the claws of his brother scrape down his mental shields. Azriel sighed and looked up at the bright blue sky, not even noticing how the day had become midday, the hot sun beating down against his sweaty skin.

“…Azriel…” a light, airy voice called his name.

He let out an animalistic growl before he grabbed his shirt from the chair he had flung it onto, slipping it on his form before spreading his wings to fly. He heard the quickened steps, seeing Elain in his peripherals, the middle Archeron’s sister’s eyes begging at him to look at her.

“…Stay away from me, Elain… I swear to the Gods, if you try to look for me again, I’ll have my High Lord and High Lady dump you on the borders of the human realm to leave you to their discretion…”

Elain frowned at him, stepping into his view, “You cannot put all the blame on me. I have tried to win you and my family’s graces back… I don’t know what I can do to get on your good graces again…”

Azriel glared at the Made-Fae, “… No, I cannot put all the blame on you, I blame mostly myself on falling for you. I never realized why I had after being mated to (Y/N) for nearly fifty years… I could have had my forever with her… And yet, my blind infatuation with you cost us that. I don’t want to do anything with you, as my way to repent… my way to live and regret for the rest of my immortal life without her…”

With one last glare, and without letting the Made-Fae say anything else, Azriel shot off into the mid-day sky, waving through the cool air of Valeris and back to the River House. He landed on the balcony and entered, walking into the large dining room where his family was situated. He noticed the solemn air that coated the room as he sat down in his usual spot, next to Mor and across from Cassian. Hazel eyes wandered the table and noticed the absence of his High Lady.

Rhysand noticed the look from his Spymaster and answered the unasked question, “Feyre went to Day Court this morning…”

That was all it took for realization to hit Azriel — it was your tenth death anniversary this week. A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back against his chair — ten years without your light. No wonder he felt horrible that day, no wonder why his nightmares seemed to be worse than ever before.

It was as if his subconscious knew.

Azriel knew that after this breakfast, he would be able to crawl back into bed and cry there — he didn’t have to do anything for the rest of that week. He would be able to wallow in his depression in the comfort of his room.

Rhysand, after the first year of your death, had declared that week a period of silence — a mourning period that allowed Valeris and most of Night Court to grieve over your death. To repent and live. It was a week where he didn’t send anyone on missions, and stores throughout Valeris were closed over the week.

The Inner Circle ate in silence, the clattering of silverware was the only thing that echoed in the grand space. No one said a word, though Azriel could feel the shifting gazes towards his way. His fingers gripped the silverware in his hands, feeling the metal bend in his strength. A frown tugged on his features, suddenly losing his appetite. He placed the utensils down, the evidence of his slight anger on the bent pieces of metal, before standing up.

He could see Mor, in his peripheral shift slightly. Azriel huffed slightly, unaware of the looming energy he was radiating until he felt a tap against his mental shields. Hazel eyes looked over to his High Lord who had given him a raised brow.

“Reign in your anger, brother… We are just worried, as usual,” Rhysand had whispered into his head.

They know how hard it has been for him over the past decade. The Inner Circle had been present through every nightmare, every depressive episode, every self-loathing that Azriel had gone through — and is still going through to this day. All of them had tried to help him lessen the burden of regret; however, they knew that the Spymaster would never let anyone shoulder his pain — not when he was the cause of it.

Azriel felt his tears line his reddened eyes, “…I know, and I thank you for that, brother… May I just grieve on my own… May I be excused?”

Hazel and violet eyes stared at each other for a moment before Rhysand nodded his head, “I will tap on your shields again when Feyre is at the ceremony…”

His head nodded before the Spymaster stalked out of the dining room, feeling all eyes on him. He climbed up those spiral staircases again before entering his bedroom with a slam of his door. A shiver wracked through his body, eyes shutting close as he tried to prevent another breakdown. He shuffled his feet, towards the bed and lay there.

He will never be okay — no matter how many decades, how many centuries have passed, he will always feel that emptiness of the bond in his chest. He would never feel you tug on that golden string that connected the two of you, nor he won’t hear your laugh whenever Cassian or Mor would tell you a joke. He won’t feel your fingers trace along his scars or place ointment on his hands whenever they were cramped and strained after a mission.

There were days — which were the worse of them — when he would hallucinate you were still alive. In that very bedroom, he would feel, smell, and see your very figure walking through that room. He could see your light, he could hear your voice… but whenever he would reach out to try to hold you, touch you, you would be gone in a whisp of light.

Azriel hated those days. He would find himself in a heap on the ground, crying. His brothers or even Mor would find him in that state at the end of the day and would plead for him to go to bed and rest. And with their help, he would lay in that large bed, bigger than his wings would span out to, to just stare at the expanses of that ceiling. Rest would never come to him easily anymore, not without a tonic from Madja or if Rhysand would slip into his mind and coax him to sleep.

He would continue to live on as an empty shell — one that would continue life without feeling your light.

Rhysand let out a shaky breath after Azriel had left the dining room, a hand running through his dark locks as he slumped against his chair.

It had been difficult, the last decade was like walking on broken glass around Azriel. The High Lord knew that his brother was suffering, but Rhysand also knew it was the consequences of his actions — of all of their actions against (Y/N). All of them, especially himself and Azriel, would continue to suffer for it.

Rhysand was thankful to the Mother that Feyre had been there throughout the past decade to help shoulder the pain, to shoulder the regret. And he had tried to do the same with Azriel; however, the former Shadowsinger wouldn’t let anyone touch him, wouldn’t let anyone help him through his emotions. And he watched as Azriel broke himself apart because of his pain. The High Lord watched every single day, every year, for the past decade, his brother becoming a shell. Even when he had sent Azriel on missions, the Fae would come back, finishing his assignment quickly and swiftly, though Rhysand could see blood and bruises that contrasted against leather.

Every time, every single time, Azriel had returned from those missions, Rhysand had seen the increased amount of wounds against immortal skin. And when confronted, Azriel had whispered in truth, “It’s the only time I feel pain… To feel the echo of the pain against my skin… Any other time, I can’t feel anything…”

That had broken the High Lord.

He had banned, much to his dismay and Azriel’s anger, the former Spymaster to go on said missions. He had changed Azriel’s title, and became an emissary, along with Mor to the Continent. Azriel hated him — and probably still hated him to this day. But it was the only way to keep his brother from hurting himself, from being hurt, and to keep his family together — as much as possible.

The High Lord stood up from his chair, giving a small smile to his family as he left the dining room and walked his way to his office, allowing the silence to seep into his body. Rhysand busied himself with work, the only thing that would occupy his time and mind during the week of mourning. If he didn’t, he would, like his brother, be stuck in his mind — in his nightmares — of failing you as your High Lord.

He felt a tap of his mental shields, his mate scraping and sending down a wave of love towards his end.

"Are you okay?” Feyre asked him and Rhysand leaned against his chair and allowed his mate to send visions of her time at Day Court.

“I think so… Just, trying to keep myself occupied you know. How is it at Day? How is Helion?”

“He’s probably the same as you and Azriel.. all of us, mourning. But he’s keeping up appearances, he is ensuring this year’s ceremony will be grand. It is her tenth year being gone from this world…”

Rhysand wouldn’t hold it against Helion if this ceremony would be a grand, beautiful one to celebrate your life… to mourn for your death. You had, after all, deserved it. You had risked your life, your light, to protect all of Prythian… you had to be celebrated one way or another.

He watched the vision of the grand Day Court halls, lined with Calla, Cattail, White Heather, Purple Hyacinths, Ivy, White Poppies, and Tea and dark crimson roses — all flowers that echoed the sentiments of all of Prythian. It was a gorgeous sight, one that Rhysand wished to see in person. Tears pricked his eyes as he wiped them away with a finger, as he felt another wave of support from his mate.

"Be safe, darling Feyre… If you need me to take Nyx, do just call me… I can take him from your hands…"

A small laugh echoed, and in his head he could see the image of Nyx standing next to his mother, looking up at the golden statue of you.

"I think he deserves to know who she is, Rhys… He will be fine…"

With one last tug on that bond, Rhysand closed the connection between the two of them.

A book, he had thought, a book would be good to immortalize your story. With ink and paper, he started to write… determined to ensure your story would be known for centuries to come.

A tap against his shields started Azriel from his stupor. He straightened in the armchair he had occupied in his bedroom, eyes darting to the window to see what time of day it was. He hadn’t slept for the past few days, his nightmares plaguing him even while awake. He would mindlessly walk around that room, keeping himself occupied to keep the nightmares at bay. He didn’t sleep, he hadn’t showered — he wallowed in his sadness.

And so when that scrape of darkness against his mind startled him out of his sadness, he lowered it slightly to allow his High Lord to send him the vision that his High Lady was sending him.

Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes as he saw that magnificent statue of you at your grave.

Oh, how he wished and begged for the Mother to allow him, even for a brief moment, to bask in that golden statue — to feel Day Court’s sun mimic the warmth that you had always radiated.

He watched from that armchair the ceremony, hearing Helion speak so fondly of you. Azriel could hear the High Lord’s voice crack and break at every mention of your name. He could see the pain in his features as he talked about how it had been ten years since your death. He watched as Helion looked at that statue with so much fondness — a father, mourning the loss of his child.

The ceremony lasted a couple of hours, allowing people to walk up to the statue to place all types of flowers on top of that gravesite. He watched as the familiar hands of his High lady held up a bouquet — a mixture of Sweetpea, Amaryllis, Pink Carnations, Cyclamen, and Iris — to the statue before placing it down on the grave as well.

He heard her whisper words of fondness, love, and regret before stepping away and back to her spot in the crowd.

The last thing he heard, was from his nephew, who whispered to his mother, “I wish to have known her… She is well loved, even after she has died…”

That had choked not only Azriel up, but he could feel the pain in Feyre’s voice as she looked down at the boy who was merely ten years into his immortal life.

“…I wish you could have known her as well, Nyx… She was a light in everyone’s life. She had made your uncle’s life the best it had been when she was still with us. We wish we could have done so much better to her…”

Azriel watched as Feyre caressed the black locks of his nephew before the vision passed. And all Azriel could do was cry — cry his love, his sorrow, his regret.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #azriel x reader #azriel angst #( .inbox request : death anniversary )#( .one shot : pushed to the edge )

445 notes · View notes

nana-luvy · 2 months ago

Text

. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩.𝟐 .

part 1

warnings: fluff, intended claimed!fem!reader,

In which the rain couldn't stop it all from unfolding.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It was the end of the afternoon when Luke stepped back into his cabin, towel over his shoulder to keep his hair from soaking his shirt after his well deserved shower.

“Nice job man!” one of his half brothers praised, high-fiving him with a smile. They’d won the game today, and more than just the glory and pride that came from winning, the real prize had been the look on the Ares’ cabin campers, loosing, faces falling as their flag crossed the river in his hands, the blue team roaring in victory in the forest.

So let’s say, now, he felt like he deserved to lay in bed and rest before the meal came, his head emptying with each step closer to his inviting bunk —something he only finds inviting in this setting, when awfully worn out. He slightly jumped to sit on the bed, immediately stretching his limbs and laying back for a little nap, hands behind his head, shifting a little to get his feet under the covers pushed at the far end of the bed.

But right before he closed his eyes, something light contrasting with the dark wood of the bed caught his eye, pink shape on the inside of his bunk. Pink shape that wasn’t there when he’d left a little after lunch. Luke lazily turned to lay on his side, propping himself on his elbow to get a better view of… sticky notes ? It was a few pink sticky notes, stacked messily on top of each other, the writing on them a little messy, like the person who’d written then had rushed it. The boy peeled them off his bed, unsticking them from each other to see what was on it. The first one read… Forget it ? And the last one read Hey. ‘Guess the person must’ve written them real time, better read them the other way’ he thought, arranging them in the right order.

“Oh.”

“What ?” someone chimed from another side of the room.

“Uh.. no-nothing, don’t worry…”

But was it really nothing when he second he realized who those were from, a light blush instantly dusted his cheeks ? His eyes had widened, frantically reading the words over and over again, even the scratched out ones, to try and make a sense of it. But evidently, you’d had no time to finish writing: the ending note was elusive, words crossed out rather than a fresh paper like the others, and his eyes caught sight of an uncapped pen lying on the floor right next to the head of the bed, one you had probably dropped in your rush. And that gave him little to work with, because if there was definitely a reason behind the notes, what was it ? Did you know what he was going to say, were glad that he didn’t get to finish and ruin whatever sort of an occasional friendship you two had ? Or did it make you uncomfortable, perhaps ? Or… oh, how Luke hoped it’d be the last option he allowed himself to think of.

And now, his mind, that he’d worked hours on end to empty of the thought of his failed declaration, was filled again with the thought of you he couldn’t help but always come back to. He wondered, should he leave you alone ? Or take the risk to try again, knowing that failing miserably a second time would probably have his resolve crumble forever.

But again, he’d already tried to leave you alone, and it had only sent his conscience screaming at him. He’d purposefully avoided you the last two days, trying to rid his mind of the thought of you, one that obsessed him, turning his head when you passed him by, forcefully tearing his eyes from your form when you were near, skillfully getting out of any situation that would coincidentally bring you both together. His heart burnt each time. So why continue, when it clearly wasn’t doing any good ?

It had been a couple days since you’d written the notes, and you had started to think this might’ve been the worst idea of you life, given it had change nothing. Not a single thing. It was as though he hadn’t even seen it in the first place. You started thinking about all the things that could’ve happened, unable to wrap your head around a single reason. Maybe someone had else had seen them and removed them ? Maybe he thought it was a prank ? Or had it fell under his bed by some magic ? Did he not realize i was from you ? Or worse, did he not care ?

Th weather outside was reflecting your mood that day, heavy rain pouring outside the window next to your bed, a calming sound that unfortunately did nothing to help your nerves. It obviously was totally out of the ordinary at camp for the weather to throw a tantrum, the Gods’ protection ensuring a constant of sunny hours all year-round; but with Mr. D out for what he’d called ‘God stuff, none of you kids’ business’, the weather outside was going haywire.

All activities had been cancelled, the open roof of the dining pavilion covered with plastic sheets so campers could use the place instead of staying coped up in their cabins. And you found yourself thinking you’d have preferred to be a strawberry, right this instant, protected by satyr magic, free from trouble, enjoying the fresh rain in the hot summer day…

But you were cut off from your strawberry-life reverie, looking out the window at the back of the cabin, when someone shouted your name from the other side of the room.

“You got, uh… mail ?”

“What do you mean ‘mail ?’, how is it a question ?” you replied, your eyes not straying from the grey rainy view.

“I mean it’s half soaked by rain and it was just slid under the door a second ago, y/n.”

“What ?” Your head snapped to your half-brother, immediately intrigued. “Give me the letter.”

You thanked him as he handed you the fragile damp paper, an envelope with just your name scribbled on the front in a messy writing smudged by the rain, without having to get out of the warm comfortable spot on your bed, and someone else chimed in.

“Are you gonna open it ?”

“I mean… If I can without breaking it, I guess ?” you answered, studying the mail carefully, trying your best not to break it.

“Girl, I swear, open it before I do it myself. I’m too curious!”

“Okay, okay, don’t rush…”

But you couldn’t hide your curiosity yourself, slowly opening the envelope, tearing it on the side in the process, and catching sight of a few green square papers inside: sticky notes.

“So, what does it say ? Who is it from ?” one of your sister pressed, not too far from you.

“I… I don’t know, it don’t see any name…”

But it was a blatant lie and you knew it, because who else would slide sticky notes in an envelope under the door of your cabin ? Your cheeks heated up, because that indeed meant he’d read the notes you had left a few days earlier, obviously knew it was from you.. and didn’t just choose to ignore it, somehow. And that meant the sparkle of hope flamed up inside of you, as much as your logical self tried to tame it.

You started to try and read what the person, most definitely Luke, had written. But, even looking past the messy handwriting of someone who didn’t often have to write, the rain had almost soaked it all up by now, black ink smudging in spots on the thin papers, bleeding on your fingertips as you tried to make sense of puddles rather than actual letters.

Your head shot back up, looking for your half-brother among the faces of curiosity that watched your every move. “You said it had just appeared when you gave it to me ?”

“Uh… yeah ? I mean, I just heard the footsteps outside and the thing sliding under the door, and-”

“Ok, thanks, see you later !” you exclaimed, rushing to put shoes back on, not even bothering to take a hoodie or an umbrella, not that you’d usually need to have one around this time of the year. You heard your confused siblings behind, but you didn’t care, you needed to know. And if there was even the slightest chance you could still catch him alone, rain be damned, you were going to seize it.

It wasn’t a long walk at all to the Hermes cabin, one where you didn’t cross Luke. So you decided upon knocking, a camper opening the door for you, and you didn’t miss a beat.

“Is Luke in here ?”

The camper looked at you in disbelief, sizing you up, and you had to admit you probably looked as soaked as the letter you’d received mere minutes ago. “Uh, no, he left like… 10 minutes ago ? Said he had business outside or something.”

Your eyes started moving left and right, looking down, visual representation of your brain frantically searching for where he was most likely to be. You didn’t try to hide the disappointment in your voice. “Oh, ok, thanks…”

The young camper turned to catch a towel hanging next to the door, ready to offer it to you so you could dry yourself a little but by the time he looked back up you’d left for the dining pavilion, hoping he’d be there.

It had been a dozen minutes since you started searching for him already, the lukewarm rain soaking your rather short clothes, cold seeping in your skin, but you didn’t care in the slightest, going from one place to another, running into puddles and splashing water over your legs, asking away if anyone had seen Luke. But after a final unsuccessful trip to the arena, you were almost going to give up, having absolutely no idea of where else he could’ve gone after you’d even searched for him at the forge. You pushed your hair back in frustration, looking up at the grey sky and letting the cold drops fall on your face with your eyes closed, and suddenly another hit you like the rain thrumming at your temples..

You quickly made your way past the Cabins area, past the Big house and the climbing wall, reaching the quieter space of the beach. And just as you finally thought of, there he was, Luke sat on a high rock with his legs stretched in front of him looking up at the blocked out view of the sky. At least he had the idea to put on a rain jacket before going outside and staying under the pouring rain.

The boy didn’t seem to notice you, the noise of your steps probably inaudible through the heavy rain falling next to him, but this time you wanted a full, finished sentence, without a week of silence that would send your head reeling into a 4th dimension with thoughts of what might've been.

So you spoke first.

“Hey, Luke!” You spoke loud and clear, hoping he’d hear you through the sound of water hitting the ocean not too far. And his eyes instantly met yours. “Your notes were soaking wet, couldn’t read them.”

He looked down at you, incredulous, taking in your form through the curtain of rain, and you almost felt self-conscious for a second, in shorts and tank top, socks turned brown from the mud that’d splashed on them, your hair glued in messy patterns to your face through your best effort or giving it some sort of shape… But you weren’t gonna back down. “Are you gonna tell me what you wrote or…”

“Why did you leave like- Aren’t you freezing ?” he asked, concerned, after a few seconds, sliding off the rock to stand a few feet only from you.

“I-” You felt taken aback for a second, as he took a tentative step closer, his first concern not exactly what you’d expected. “Well, no, I’m fine, after a while it’s just rain on rain. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You loudly gulped, his eyes boring in yours. “And also, I thought I might catch you if I went outside, like… I couldn’t read the notes, hoped you’d tell me what you wrote.

Luke slid his hand over his face in frustration, fingers ending up running in his soaked curls, brushing his hair back. “Ah yeah, I kinda feared that, thought they might’ve be dryer than it looked. Whatever I- I just…” He let out a matching frustrated, his face visibly scrunching, eyes shying from yours. “What did you mean in your notes ?”

“What do you mean ?” You tilted your head to the side, looking confused, but of course you knew what he meant, because as rushed of a writing session as it was, you remembered every single word you wrote. And it’s true they were… ambiguous, when lacking a proper ending, but you wanted to be at least a little sure about what he meant, before letting him know what you meant.

“I mean that- nevermind…”

If he had to be honest about it, Luke would have to say that, more than the obvious frustration, what he really felt was deep rooted nervousness. He’d written the notes over and over again, crafting them with the perfect phrasing for all the time he needed to get it all just right, thinking he might have a better chance if he made sure everything was perfect. Smudged, indecipherable words wasn’t perfect. And now that you searched for his gaze with those eyes, those eyes that made his breath catch in his throat and his stomach spin whenever he crossed them, he couldn’t even remember enough to recite it all.

“I wrote asking if you wanted to meet up, mostly. I just… I wanted to apologize, for not trying to see you after... you know… I get that the sentence as it is was a pretty awful cliffhanger, and I didn’t exactly plan anything about it. It was more like a… a spur of the moment thing..” Luke tried to explain, forcing on his voice so it’d be heard, hoping it wouldn’t pathetically crack as he felt so helpless about the situation, emotions starting to bubble up inside him. His fists were clenched at his side, head tipped down to look at you, seeing the droplets of water cascading down your face, pearling on your lashes, following the soft curves of your cheeks… Until he saw a flash of hurt on your expression.

“Oh, spur of the moment… Yeah, that checks out,” you answered, trying to sound detached, but you knew he could hear the sob caught in your throat.

“No! No, not- Not spur of the moment as in ‘spur of the moment’, more like… like…” Luke moved his hands frantically in the space between you two, searching for words that didn’t come to him, his cheeks flushing and he could only hope the rain concealed it. “Like I didn’t plan on saying it but- But now I definitely owe you the complete sentence.”

You simply nodded, wincing and scrunching your face as a raindrop fell right in your eye, a concerned Luke rushing forward, putting both his hands over your head, aiming to at least protect your face from the rain. Your lips were glued as he stood so close, not able to let out a single word that wouldn’t sound like a weak squeaking sound, your cheeks reddening by the second, and impossibly more as he pulled the considerate gesture.

“Ok um…. I’m gonna.. gonna say it, yeah…” The boy shook his head, sending droplets in his hair flying on your face, a clearly nervous gesture, like trying to brace himself, hype himself up, and it only make the spark of hope burn harder in your chest, laughing lightly at his antics. “I know we’re not exactly friends, in the most common sense of the term ? We don’t really know each other, at least not upfront, i guess ? And yet… I just can’t get you out of my head- No, let me finish,” he stopped you as you parted your lips.

Your face was most likely beet red by now, eyes slightly widened under the cover of his hands. The butterflies in the pit of your stomach felt like they were flying freely through your whole body now, shivers running through your spine, your hands awkwardly fidgeting at your sides as your soul screamed to speak up. But if he wanted to spill his heart first, maybe you could wait a little.

Luke eyes scanned you for a second, before sighing heavily, taking one of your hands to replace his over your head, and his touch made your skin tingle deliciously. “Argh, you told me you were alright…” he groaned, and the next moment he draped his jacket over your shoulders, gently pulling the hood up to cover your face, before smiling down at you.

“I said I was fine… but continue, I’m not gonna stop you,” you mumbled, head lowering as he took one of your hand in both of his, absentmindedly playing with one of your rings.

He let out a little laugh before continuing, his tone feeling somewhat lighter. “It’s like when you’re not here I can’t help but notice it, and when you are I ache to talk to you, and just looking at you makes me lose all sense of the rest of the world. I- My mind just goes blank, and I never want it to stop, if I’m being honest.”

There was an instant of silence as he searched for your eyes as you looked straight in front of you, trying to weave through the current chaos of your own mind, before you finally bore your gaze in his. “Can I talk now ?”

“I, um, yeah, yeah, of course, sor-”

But his words were cut short as you pulled your hands from his, bringing them at his nape to pull him down on you, crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss he immediately matched, lips moving avidly against each-others, the rain falling around you like a mere setting you both chose to properly ignore. And finally your mind calmed down, for the first time in a week you felt at peace.

Luke softly put his hands around your jaw before pulling away, forcefully gulping down as he caught a breath he didn’t know he held, tilting your head up to look into your eyes, angling himself to shield you from the rain. “It’s horrible how I could never seem to get to know you first hand, to think I always settled on watching from the sidelines, on being a background character, on learning everything you liked from other people. And yet I feel like I know you so much…” he dragged, droplets of water falling from his hair to your face before he brushed them away with his thumb.

“Why didn’t you come talk to me ? I don’t bite,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully with a small laugh. One Luke couldn’t get enough of.

“Well, see, I’m not sure about that. I’m fully convinced you would’ve just eaten me whole and spat me out like it’s nothing.”

“Wow, you really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you ?”

“Tell me you’re not even a little bit pleased by my nervousness and I wouldn’t believe you. You’re a maneater in sheep’s disguise.”

“You give me too much credit…” you whispered pulling him closer by the nape again, your free hand gently twisting one of his curls around your finger mindlessly.

“Nah, you ate my heart, you’re just completely unaware of how much I’d give it to you on a silver platter anyway.”

Well, I hope it wasn't too rushed, I just felt like it was right ~ Also, it's sliiiightly short, like barely 5.5k, but i feel like it's good anyway

Bubye loves <3

Nana -

#nana's mind ━☆#luke castellan imagine #imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x you #oneshot #charlie bushnell #fanfiction #fluff #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fluff

105 notes · View notes

the-monkeies-girl · 7 months ago

Text

The Grim Reaper. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Eleven.

the series is not done GUYS I PROMISE AND IM SO SORRY

Title: The Grim Reaper. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications, injury, mentions of blood. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 8.5K+ ( it was previously 7.6 who the hell allowed this CHANGE ) Summary: Bargaining was always a great tool to use in the face of death. Meeting on the brink was less favorable. READ THE SERIES HERE.

●・○・●��○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

The ground was more fervently lush below your feet than you had ever experienced, letting your toes seep into the delectable grass that tickled between your toes. Such a strange and exhilarating feeling, so clean and incredibly simple but all you wanted to do was roll onto it and consume it with all your might. Crisp and cool, your body angling itself downwards so you could flush your hand against the tender landscape and like your feet that were planted, you wanted your fingers to do the same as you dug them in, getting a wonderful waft of nothing but Earth that catapulted your senses to the highest bid of Heaven that was imaginable, fathomable or even obtainable in the Human consciousness.

Drawing yourself into a small sigh, your gaze flittered across the leafy landscape and took in the minute details of the breeze pushing itself in and out of the the conifers that lined the meadow you were so familiar with, this time being coated with a honey sensation that made it feel like it was a hot afternoon but the atmosphere was only a notch above timid and wasn’t sticky or uncomfortable to exist in.

The mild rushing of water captivated you long enough to look in the direction of the moisture that suddenly enthralled your entire being. If your mind were able to race itself to the torrent of whitened water against the shoreline, you would but it felt like you were in a dream, the way your body brought itself back up and leveraged into the space it needed to consume, the way your feet that had been so deliciously dipped into the dirt below began moving, one step at a time until they all subsequently became one languid stride. You… You had been here before, this exact moment.

Noa… You wanted to cry upon seeing the blanketed nature of his fur, so enticing to grasp and hold onto in a desperate plea to keep you from floating off into a realm of the unknown. You had been here before, Noa… Had… His ears must have picked up on the twig that suddenly appeared below your right foot and despite already standing, it felt like you were just pushing yourself to do just that, your knees popping under your weight as you made a quickened dash towards him as he had himself situated at the embankment of the river you so often took pleasure and solace in together, deep in the trenches of acute conversations, lingering words that meant more than either party were willing to admit at the time. Yes… Yes. Yes…

Noa knew you would follow him in this moment, your lips parting as you came rounding the Ape who was crouched near the stream, his fingers dipping into the cold water and taking in notes of the way that the current felt between his fingers. “Have you felt it?”

That was your voice speaking but it didn't feel like your throat had vocalized anything as you bent down beside him, body movements not feeling like your own but you knew they were as you reached up and placed a hand against your jugular. Had you just spoken? You must have…Maybe you were just tired and things in the word you were around were sorrowed by the need to sleep in more, to pull yourself into the nest and tightly wrap yourself into the darkness of the animal pelts and rest until you felt better, until this innate sense of deja vu passed and left you feeling like a normal a whole person again.

Skin tearing itself apart on the surface as you rubbed his shoulder, his fur licking at your senses and driving them into slow and dashed overdrive, your mouth parting as if you knew what his answer was going to be because you did. You had been here before, this drip in the eternal stream that flowed so carelessly in front of you, never asking for anything in return, but always keeping blackmail in case it needed to hurt you.

Noa only tilted his head out of the corner of your eye, feigning ignorance to your inquiry. “Felt?”

“Romantic love.”

He was going to drag himself into contemplation as he enjoyed the water, Noa always falling into that line when you and he had these conversations of Echo behavior and Echo Logic. Even now, in the dream-like state, it needed to be the same, it always was the same… Would it… Make any difference now if he knew how much you loved him? Would it make him feel any differently towards you if he knew, if you told him and laid yourself out for rejection? Would it put him in a stupor of surprise, unknown territory that you both wanted to travel together no matter the outcome because the feeling had been silently acknowledged the last few times you had met? Would Noa feel feral with want, his eyes casting their beautiful green color that rivaled even the enviest of grass right along your jugular?

The Chimp would push away anyone from you he deemed a threat, he would tear their faces off, the pit of his stomach melting into aggravated and cruel dissatisfaction in himself for never saying the words in the first place, the first time that you had met here and the first time that the question you asked was posed. Noa’s fingers dug into the palm of his hands to distract himself from the idea that you did not feel the same way giving off the impression that having you so near was unfavorable. That your scent was not what he needed, that your Echoness… Was not what he wanted.

Would it… Lifting your hand up, you were surprised at the action in itself as you could have sworn this was just a dream, this was just a moment of recollection in extreme vividness and you should not have been able to move on your own. Lightly, your hand placed itself against the side of his face, heart racing with the knowledge that Noa was able to sense it through the bottoms of his flattened feet, through the subtle motion of your pulse against your wrist. Would it make him lose control? Bite my arm, you whispered to him and let your fingers sink into the fur that bordered his face, your hand heady with intent. Bite the space between my shoulder blades, please… Take me by the hair and make me mine, Noa… Noa…

The stares that he had given you for so long, finally being returned now as Noa turned his expression towards you, unbiased and willing to let you touch him for as long as you needed as if he himself were having a hard time telling if you were living in reality or not. Your stares towards him…They were always noticed, even when you tried to play coy. Breath hitching in your throat at the pure intensity that flurried like electricity was shooting between the two of you, Noa tilted his head with a bit more passion.

We are here… You and I, the motion said. Don’t leave now... No longer stretching out silent and afraid, you brought his face inwards, your feet tethering themselves dangerously close to the embankment, feeling the shift of loose gravel under you as you felt him loosen control of his body and Noa fell into the shallow water below where your fingers had briskly touched for the first time what seemed like years ago…

How you would follow him anywhere he went, your mind floated, flushing yourself against him as your thighs tucked near the sides of his pelvic bone, body ignoring the chill as the water rushed against Noa’s back, swimming his fur artistically around him like a small boat. It was crystal clear, shallow like a small puddle. Your wet hands planted themselves firmly on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat under the pads of your fingers as you felt sheer satisfaction run wild in your nerves. His scar, the way that the fur tapered into his skin before flushing with coarseness. Bringing your lips down, you kissed it slowly, lingering and smothering to Noa who had nothing to hide anymore. Noa knew the answer now… Noa felt he always knew the answer… “Yes.” Tell me more, you thought to yourself and mimed his action when he reached to grasp one of your thighs to keep you situated on top of him, the hand on his chest trailing downwards, through the thinned nature of his waist and taking in any crevice you were able to feel under the thickets of fur that tastefully drenched his entire body, now wet from the stream, and without a conscious of its own. Like you had played with the small pebbles the first time, you were now catering your touch to Noa himself, his conscious thought reacting to even the smallest of grazes.

Noa moved himself, reaching his free hand from your body to rest on your face, his thumb swiping right under your eye and giving the impression of faux tears when he tore that away and brought it downwards to dip at your lips. Leathery skin caressed the smoothness, tracing the delicate lines and tugging on your bottom lip to get a glimpse at your blunted teeth.

“Have you…” That was said softer than he had meant, knowing what he was doing with his touch and having let it fester for so long, Noa wanted to take it in as slowly as possible to savor it in case it was a dream. Tongue peaked out for a moment as you licked the very tip of his thumb that lingered near your bottom lip, his eyes sharped at the sight and he raised his hips that were anchoring you to him. “Have you felt?”

A gasp exploded straight from the back of your throat at his motion, stirring you to grasp the fur near his navel in an attempt to riddle yourself of the feeling creeping around your thighs, the cloth of your pants sticking to your skin and traced with the current of water and Noa’s fur that was shuffling. Desperation ran rampant, you wanted to feel him, wanted to have him for yourself. You’d be the one to sink your teeth into Noa’s innocent neck, you’d be the one to hold him to you and protect with all your might and get him to say your name like a muffled chant.

Tracing downwards, you felt his hand at the base of your neck where your collarbones connect and instead of moving away as he would have done normally, Noa continued onwards down your white faded t-shirt and wet the fabric with enough moisture that it clung to your sunken skin to give him the faintest outline of your sternum and dip of your breasts. Breathing seemed impossible as you clutched him that much tighter, wanting nothing more than to shed your clothing, piece by terrible piece, just to feel how hot and hard he truly was against you, something that was explicit in only your dreams. You needed to touch him, hand racing itself between your legs to grasp. Just one more time. One more… One more…

One more… “Yes.”

There was a surged snap as you tore at the band around his waist without hesitation, watching as the lined twine ran with the current of the river, a sea of blue and white now encased with a piece of the Ape below you. It was not important to him any longer, both of Noa’s hands reaching up and grasping at your hips. Without hesitation as you had been when you touched his fingers the first time in the same water that was drenching you, Noa had you flipped and pushed into the sediment below, only your lower halves resting in the water now. The whiteness of your t-shirt were scorned with dirt and mud, Noa’s eyes able to see the pure outline of your chest and the pit in his stomach dropped even further than his diaphragm, closer to the primal intent and notions he had towards you that were kept under lock and key.

Noa’s hands adjusted your frame under him before he grasped at the dirt at either side of your head to keep him leveraged, your eyes capturing the way that the mud and pebbles slipped between his thick fingers in eager anticipation as you imagined him dragging mud along your entire being, encasing you in it and in turn, when you had his way with you, it would press imprints into his fur and you’d make him yours in return. You could hear the tingling of the dirt move as he sunk his claws in, driving his hips forward against your clothed lower body. Groaning wildly at that, you hands drove themselves into his forearms, straight to the skin and seemed to bi-pass any of his fur.

“How… Did it feel?”

Mouth dry, you brought your tongue out to wet them and slid your eyes shut as Noa placed a rather rhythmic pace of breathing above you, seeking to keep himself in a ration mindspace instead of tearing you apart as he so wanted to do in the moment that he had heard that delicious growl sprout from the back of your throat.

“It feels…”

Confusing, Noa would have guessed, dropping a hand as he kept himself from crushing you with one of his hands, a true and savory testament to the fact that he was incredibly strong and only chose to use it in the moments that he felt were needed and grasped the back of your neck to keep you comfortable. That was what you had said before when this conversation first took place. Confused, to which Noa repeated it and beckoned you silently to explain.

“Amazing.”

With your head tilted back in exaltation, Noa spurred himself downwards and with the help of his hand raising your neck in conjecture, his muzzle tickled at your throat. The lines of your jugular, always so far away from him, were suddenly so close… So near… Baring his teeth, Noa’s eyes slid shut, lids fluttering in exhilaration at the taste that exploded into his mouth. So sweaty like you had been nervous to see him, so tender like the most perfectly roasted Elk, so… so carnally sweet like he’d just picked himself a mango and tore into the pulp with his sharpened canines.

“A-Amazing…” It was your turn to repeat yourself as you arched against him, hands rising and grasping at the back of his neck to keep him smothered against him. “Noa…” He’d never heard his name so desperately said before, your mouth opening for him and only him as he intended.

Your legs tangled themselves around his waist to keep him leveraged against you as your hands tore into the fur of his taut neck, feeling the muscles shift under your touch with intense scrutiny. There was always that budding fear in your mind that he was able to crush you with one fist. That one hand was going to cause you to die. That you… Would let him, you thought and slid your eyes shut once more as Noa’s wrought hips connected to yours once more.

Your ribs could be crushed by his weight and you’d let him, your hands spiraling down and tightly affixing themselves into his shoulder blades. His hand could hold your entire neck and in one action of pleasure, he could take you out and you’d let him, knowing that you had died under his gaze, enough satisfaction to last more than one lifetime. Feelings you didn't know the reasons behind, touches you felt should have repulsed any other Human… But Noa… A groan escaped your lips again, only this one was harsher as you felt radiating notions of agony encasing your head, following down into your lungs like you were being drowned to death by the Ape above you. “I don’t want to leave…” You whispered, feeling a few tears hit the back of your eyelids at the lingering sensation of pain that started to dull itself along your splintering hairline. “Noa, I’m not ready…” Noa… only hushed you with a small seeth, as your neck was caressed and he brought your head head upwards to the point where he was able to press his forehead against yours, tendering and sealing with a promise that this moment was not just your imagination. He had brought you here, you had brought yourself here… Your solace, your friend, your words lingering in the universe and repeating themselves over and over again.

Love doesn’t need to be understood, love just needs to be embraced. And it was, you realized with ample eyes as flashes of white began hitting your irises. Embraced and then crumbling right before you with no tools to help you clean up afterwards. A chortled cry left your lips as you tried to cling to Noa, trying to hold onto some semblance of the moment to remember it as you were being viciously taken away. You… Didn't want to leave him… Your eyes squeezed shut in adamance. You couldn’t leave him. Your fingers felt tense in the fur you had made their home, your legs falling into the crashing water below and you were unable to move them, and upon inspection as your eyes drew from the soft familiarity of Noa’s face so near your own, you were seeing red. Red from the wounds on your calves, red on your hand as you drew it up to meet your gaze, from the ricocheting wound on his shoulder.

Noa… He was completely lifeless against you suddenly, your body taking the brute force of it and you were being suffocated without reserve. “N-No…” Crying, you tried to push him off of you so you could see his face again, but it was digging itself into the ground near the bend of your neck. There was no way you were getting out, no way to help him… “No! Don’t leave me please! Noa!”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ Soona could not get her breathing under control, rapid and condenced against her exploding diaphragm. She had counted everyone correctly, their familiar faces all washed with the pain and devastation that now radiated clearly through the crowd as they nestled themselves in the woods, far enough from the char of the village, but close enough to still hear the tumbling of the towers as they came crashing back down to the Earth that supplied their building material. Every crackle was accounted for, every sob and furled in Ape seen by Soona’s eyes. Anaya now being tendered to by another Female Ape who had some experience with injuries, not much as Soona herself was unfamiliar with most. The Eagle Clan--- She wanted to sob, they were peaceful, never had reason to fight or defend themselves, only having minute knowledge of how to take care of bodily injury that was often sustained during fishing, hunting or riding into new territory.

This… She looked over at her Sunset brother and racked her body with a shiver of the utmost devastation, ignoring the clinging of her other brother's blood against her palm. This was beyond any of them…. He had been bitten on the head by a blunt object, falling in and out of consciousness to the point where his words were slurred, Soona wanting him to say something sarcastic or funny in retort but garnered nothing. Soona and Dar were confident he would be alright, just needing to be cared for in the meantime.

Her green gaze looked at Anaya’s mouth, bloodied as the female with him began cleaning the iron redness away from his lips. He had… Taken an Echo life, the one of very few in the History of the Clan. She was morbid in thought, wondering what it must have felt like to kill such a threat, to succeed but could not bring herself to care anymore about that as she mentally drew on.

He… Would be alright… She told herself over and over again, looking down at the Master of the Birds himself as she had very narrowly managed to do as you had advised. Get the item out from his shoulder, a bullet you had called it.... His breathing was falling between rapid and shallow, Soona herself unsure of what that meant, either too fast or too deep. He… He had spoken nothing to her, not able to tear himself away from the nightmare Soona imagined was playing in his mind, over and over again. She couldn’t get it out of her mind, living not once, but twice through it. She knew nothing of bullets, these Echo Primal weapons that hurt with soot and explosions, not even sure what you meant until the casing came out, covered in soot and Noa’s blood, her fingers shaking as she brought it in to look at. Noa’s blood coated her fingertips, red like… Like the beginning of a sun set.It left a gaping wound there, Soona admiring the depth the projectice had gotten into him, into the dense muscles and shattering them into nothingness. Dar was pressing into it with a flooded piece of cloth, begging to her own Eagle that it was enough to stop the bleeding from a wound not inflicted from an arrow, from a spear or from a fist itself.

Glancing around at the chatter of the other Apes that were around in the woods, the dim fire light of the Clan’s demise was hard to ignore as ash began drizzling down upon then and coated their darkened fur with gray, coughs erupting as it hit inhaling lungs. Everything they… Noa, Anaya and Soona… Everything they had known was gone, soon to be blown by the wind into nothing but bitter memories remembered years from now.

The towering enclosures, so green and lush, laughter coming from every crevice their nests of familiarity, the steps towards the Eagle Enclosure that Soona and Anaya only traversed, never allowed to actually step into the enclosure itself as they were not an Elder or Noa themselves. She could remember how the wood thickets felt under her calloused touch as she and Anaya waited for Noa’s meetings to be over, to pester him about them to see if they could get any details out of him. She knew how it felt to have the gentle breeze pulling at her fur as Anaya chewed annoyingly on a mango right in her ear. While memories are put into her mind… The places themselves remained in nothing but dank ash and wood pieces that glowed ember. Everything Noa had built since his Father’s death… Gone. The only thing that remained were the Eagles and the Apes themselves, some of the feathery companions seeking comfort with their own Masters while others were sticking themselves around on their twig legs in a desperate attempt to find them in the chaos that was still raining down on them.

Eagle Sun himself was near, perched only a few meters away and observed. The devastation ran through him at the prospect of not having another Master. How could he when he had lost Koro and now a line was drawn in the said and he might lose Noa? Soona looked over her shoulder at him, having sensed his eyes on her back as she looked at the ballet once more. Such a small object able to inflict such rancid injury… Soona’s jaw tightened - They had done the best they could with the evacuation plan that Noa had set in place, one of the first things he had done when he returned from his journey to defeat Proximus and bring his Clan home. They had done the best they could but there was still substantial loss, not just in life, but not there was a glaring hole as to what they were meant to do next? Return to the grounds of which they were raised and see the devastation for themselves? Avoid it at all cost?

What if…--- Soona’s gaze fell down to Noa who was propped safely in his Mother’s lap, lapsing in moments of vividness of agonistic strenuous sounds coming from the back of his throat, Noa’s larg hands at his sides squeezing themselves into fists at Dar’s soft movements. His head being held so tenderly as she whispered to him, words Soona was unable to detect but no doubt they were words of encouragement to get him to wake, get him to stabilize and come back to her as she must have feared losing more than the rest of them. She tried to ignore that, her heart churning as Noa’s breathing turned languid, his ribs catching themselves on fire with every action. Dar figured that he had a few broken, in the dark of the night though, it was hard to deduce that for sure. Noa jerked - Suddenly and sharply, his entire body springing as if he had been poked directly in the middle of his foot by a sharp needle and it radiated pain throughout his entire body. Gasps were taken, hard and ragged as blood coughed out from his lungs, falling from his mouth and onto Dar who went to grasp him, to get him to lay back down.

Movement - She said calmly to her Son, it was only going to cause more problems but that didn't matter to Noa as his pupil blew eyes scattered across the scene. His heart felt like it would fall right out of his chest at that moment, trying to draw in another breath to keep himself stable but to no avail. It burned to the deepest core of him, his right shoulder exploding and yelling at him as he had moved so rapidly, the cloth that Dar had been using to help keep the injury sustained was lost in the shuffle as Noa tried to trudge himself to his feet as Soona grasped his good shoulder. “Noa! No! You---Need rest… Should not move!” She looked down desperately at Dar who raised herself to grasp her son's forearm and bring him down but he refused to love as his feet dug into the Earth below. The Clan, he could feel the redness under his eyelids from stress induced fighting. Noa felt the shift of the Earth between his toes at the longing notion that you had come to see him and come to bid him goodbye in order to save them all.

Moving his mouth to an open position, he rested his flocked gaze on the young Apes who were clinging so desp… Desperately to their Mother’s chest as the realization finally ran up to him and knocked him back down, Noa collapsed against his Mother with a fevered growl of pain that ran down his arms, that ran through his entire body and refused to relent any of the control it had on his senses. Noa wanted to roll into Dar at that moment, telling her that he needed her embrace, he needed her wisdom… Something to tear him out of the nightmare that was too close to his heart.

Blood shot eyes looked straight at Soona, the feral unable to read them for a split second as she felt a piece of her own self died. Noa… Was not there, or he was and he was so far gone in the throes of death itself that this was going to be the last moment she’d see the green in his eyes at all. “We… Got everyone out… Anaya is here, safe.” Soona’s voice was surprisingly calm despite the severity of Noa’s glance, the Ape momentarily squeezing them shut in a plea to get her out of his head and to stop answering the questions that were running through him. Too many to process, to many to remember in the hazed wake of injuries riddling his body and the suffocation that was taking place inside of his lungs. Noa wanted to wake up again in the meadow with you, near the water and take a long hard drink of both of you.

He--- There was no way he was not dead, at least for a brief moment as red flashed in front of his vision and he felt his equilibrium shatter,, agony tracing itself along the back of his skull and causing his neck to feel adversely stiff. Fingers felt hurt, dirt rising and falling into his already thick fingernails, his palms having inflicted a few sharp rocks against them nothing more than a tattered mess of cuts. Face was colored red from the vicious nature of cuts along the side of his right face, one under his left eye and a deep gash that rested on his chin, engraining itself into the fur of his beard.

There was no explanation for it, seeing you so close to him, having you hold him so tenderly at the moment where things started to go wrong, the both of you playing cards at the replay that should have been the way it went in reality. Noa reached out for it again, his hands shaking, one able to move with the use of his shoulder and the other lifeless to the drop of his fingers itself. He could not hold you even if you were here, but he’d will himself to try.

Noa--- Swore to the Eagles above, he would force himself even if it meant pulling himself through the coals. You were his and he was going to hold onto that for the rest of his life. But… For you to be there with him in that moment of tenderness, of unspoken want and attentiveness… Meant only one thing, Noa thought and tried to squeeze that out of his mind just long enough to get a proper status from Soona who had stopped speaking once she sensed that Noa wasn’t asking her to. “All…” Noa gritted his teeth together and felt Dar pressing her hand onto his head, something that even now, comforted him much like it did when he was only a young Chimp, “All destr-destroyed?”

“E-everything,” There was a loud sob behind her from one of the Chimpanzee families at the confirmation, followed by chattering as they began gossiping amongst themselves that Noa was alive but everything that had been rebuilt was dead. Dead, Noa repeated seeing your smile flash in front of his eyes. No… No. “Eagle Enclosure---”

Noa felt words were getting stuck in the back of his throat but he needed to--- He gasped… He needed to make sure that all he had built in his Father’s name was not lost. “All got out?” “Yes.” Soona’s voice was a cry of joy in the otherwise sullen situation.

Noa gritted his teeth again and nodded. Good. There was only one thing left he needed to ask, letting his eyes slide into Dar’s for a moment and sought intense solace in her touch on him as if she were preparing him for the worst of the news. Something she had to experience herself only a year and a half ago. “Al-All of the Echo’s?” Soona hesitated with her words, knowing it to be a loaded question even in her tired and frayed mind, “All of them?” Noa swallowed hard, regretting it the moment he set forth the action as his throat was incredibly dry and he felt the saliva lingering in his stomach like bile that began rising itself back up in anticipation of the answer, “Was---- Was.. M… My Echo… here?” Splitting his voice as it rested in a deeper baritone with the question, it was splattered with self-loathing if Noa dared suspect what he was thinking. He tried to ignore the way it felt to say, past tense. Yes… You were there, Noa had seen you with his own eyes, felt your touch and smelled your blood. You were there! For him… Kissing his forehead with your own… You were… Was… Were…Was… Soona only nodded, looking away and back towards the glow of the fire in the distance to confirm his suspicions. “Sh…” Sobbing slightly, Dar felt him shaking against him and gave Soona a warning glance. With his ribs in the state they were, they were more prone to damage if Noa moved too viciously as they could puncture his lungs or another organ. Soona looked right back at her, apologetic in her expression but she knew Noa just as well, he would not stop asking, he would not stop obsessing unless she gave him the answers to the questions he was asking with his mouth and with his mind. Better to rip this off now even though he was injured, Soona thought, and if he felt the urge to meet you wherever you had grasped him and beckoned him, then that was up to Noa himself. “Have sent two Apes to get her,” Soona explained softly, hunching in on herself and scooting towards her friend, “Could… not get close enough, the fire…” “Send me.” “Noa-” “SEND ME.” His voice ran through the entire group of Apes that were around, heightened silence following as everyone looked towards the tone of Noa. Eyes upon eyes that matched, all on him. Noa didn't care if they were. They could stare holes into him until he brought his bloodied body next to your own so he could grasp at your hair, bringing your forehead to his once more. Where you belonged, where he belonged.

“She is dead.”

Dar said to the Ape she had her grasp on, feeling Noa stiffen more and more with each word. He didn't blink as he rose his eyes upwards towards Eagle Sun who had been intent on watching his Master’s every move with baited breath, waiting for a command, waiting for a purpose. Stagnant, Dar looked at the side of her Son’s face, so familiar to her in the moment but so far in his gaze as he stared off into nothing, repeating over and over again the three words she just spoke to him, the first three she had spoken to him. Not dead, impossible, he uttered inside of his mind. He… Noa’s mouth fell open in a silent plea. “Saw… her…” “My Son…” There was lingering assurance in Dar’s voice as she tried to display for him the power that he was going to need to overcome this, having done just that when Koro was taken from her. Nipped in the bud for her child, never coming to fruition but the pain itself was unbearable and there was nothing she knew could be done as he reached up and grabbed the forearm she had around him, so tightly that Noa felt he was going to pull the fur straight out from her skin. Dar let it sink in, holding onto him all that tighter. “I---” Harshly, Noa pulled himself away from the confines he loved so deeply and splattered himself onto the ground, straight on his face without time to even catch himself. Enjoying the sediment in his mouth as it seemed to alighten his senses, Noa lifted himself up onto his one good arm and staggered artistically to his feet, his balance unequivocal and unmatched, fire scathing through his blood.

“I SAW HER.” Crying out, he gestured his one good arm towards the general direction of the stream from the flooded vision he had of you still seering into his retinas. Every touch lighting him on ablaze, sending skyrockets down his spine at the idea that he was about to take you as his own and you were going to let him, exaltations being breathed against Noa’s face, against his neck as you pleaded with your body.

Take me, take me… Never once did he think about it being towards death itself, your body pleading for it to take you away. Never once, it was only meant for Noa. There was no way you were gone, Noa laughed bitterly to himself and felt his head tip backwards. No, no no… The way that your hands felt in his fur were too real, the way that your words felt to him, driving down the deepest parts of his mind. No--- Noa laughed for only a second before he drew his face into a flattened stance. You were not dead, he decided. You could not be dead witho--- Without saying goodbye to him!

“I fe--- felt her… Touching… Water… Under…me….” Coherency was lost as Noa stumbled to find the words to say, or to even sign but nothing made sense anymore. Nothing without you… Made sense. Without reserve, Noa roared your name in hopes that you were able to hear him in the bitter darkness encased with oranges and flurrying snowflakes of ash. Noa whimpered.

He needed you to hear him.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa had been watching you for what felt like days upon days, but that’s how it felt now when he drew his attention towards you. Things slowed down so he could start to take in the more minute details about you that he hadn’t thought about beforehand. The way that you talked to him, the way that your body held itself next to him all spoke to Noa of how you were getting more comfortable, more accepting of the Clan…Of… Of him.

The way that the fire you were perched in front of played against your face, casting shadows along your nose and along the curves of your lips pulled his body towards your own, the shuffling of the cloak and the beating of the necklaces against his chest all amplified at how you smiled towards Soona who had give you a wave, followed by you throwing your head back in a laugh when Anaya came tumbling up to her and almost tackled her to the ground. Noa paused then to catch the pulsation of your heartbeat against the delicate nature of your neck.

The ceremony ended in success, Noa having gotten the approval he so sought from his Father, from his Mother and from the Elders. A new generation of Apes, Noa looked over at them as they chatted amongst each other about their eggs, about what their bird might look like and what temperament they might have, bonded and secured with one of the companions that would see them through life. Next ceremony for them would be the Mating prospect, something that lingered in even Noa’s mind as he was rounding that age and got consistently pestered from the Elders regarding.

Noa listened to their praises, to his Mother as she drew him in and placed his forehead against her own, telling her son how proud she was and how proud she knew his Father would be of the Ape he had grown into. He listened, but he did not care to linger as you were like gravity itself, circling him in. He did not care to let them talk about his life and what they wanted from him as he knew you never did that. You--- Noa shuffled himself near the log you were sitting on. You were open and accepting to him it seemed, not just the Master of the Birds, not just the Leader of the Clan, but just… Noa. And something deep inside of him awakened and wanted to know why.

“Should join.” The Chimp urged, watching as you jumped. His look was apologetic as he took the seat next to you, knowing he must have scared you to garner that sort of reaction as your breathing picked up and you placed a hand against your chest, Noa captivated by that movement and how inherently Echo--- No… He corrected himself with a tilt of his head, how inherently you it was.

Feeling your heart now resting in the back of your throat and knowing no amount of swallowing was going to help, you looked up at Soona as she was adorned with a feather in a twined headdress that was tangled delicately with turquoise beads, metallic cloves and smoothed pebbled and hollowed beads. All the colors that rested in the orange and tan twine of the headdress right at the top base of her ear were brilliant, the tracing of feathers around the back of her head so enticing as it looked like a crown from a faded children's book you used to have before the pages fell out. She was beautiful, radiating with color against your eyes as the communal bonfire shone brilliantly against her fur and gave the appearance of being dipped in delicious honey.

“Bond ceremony… Very important to the young Apes. Coming of Age. Ape… Share our feathers with each other, bond to the Eagle Clan.”

Parted lips seemed to echo his words as you were processing them, urging yourself to say something in return but you were remarked by how all of the Apes in the area were wearing similar headdresses, female and male. You drew your attention to Anaya’s. Structurally the same to Soona’s, gray, black and blue feathers lining the round of his head as he held a bundle of the feathers, freshly preened, in his fist to give to his fellow Apes.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” You complimented Noa with a soft smile, Noa himself throwing caution to the wind and listened to your praises as they meant more to him now than ever before, “I had to have Soona explain what was happening but it--- It was so beautiful, you were---”

Tapering softly, you drew your bottom lip in and chewed it viciously. When it was brought back to light and covered in your saliva, Noa felt a lick of temptation to bring his mouth down upon it. “You-you were great.”

Mentally, you felt like beating yourself at the notion that you had been conditioned your entire life to think that they were savages with no culture, no sense of self or worth outside of killing Humans. But this entire display, from the powerful stance of Noa himself as he talked to the young Apes embarking on the most important aspect of their lives, so careful and gentle as he knew how important it was, having to feel the heavy crown his Father gave him upon death as your eyes skidded towards his own adornment of feathers along his skull. More than Anaya and Soona, you noted, fluttered and soft to the touch, you wanted to reach up and drag your fingers through just to test if he’d let you that close.

From the closeness he had to you, seated, you were able to see the pull and push of his breathing, feeling it against your face as you admired the art and sacred nature of his headdress. It… Was beautiful… Noa…

Your gaze dropped into his own for a moment, the heat of the fire you were resting near the only excuse you had for the grazing of red that catapulted against your cheeks. Noa was too. The sweeping lines of wrinkles that took over under his eyes, happy little dances downwards towards his minorly hollowed cheeks, the ajar stance his mouth had giving you the most vicious view of only his canines as you imagined them sinking into you, wondering if it felt better to just succumb than to pretend that things hadn’t been changing, the way that his fur was whitened around his mouth and under his bottom lip and got darker around the edges of his face.

You hadn’t thought it to yourself, but you supposed this was the first time that you had been this close to him in a more intimate setting, opting to keep distance on the table as a means of not getting too emotionally attached. But, it was so hard when he looked at you like that, your head tilting and pouring your eyes into his golden, green and hazeled stance that was unwavering. Noa was striking and he deserved praise, if only you were willing to be strong enough to give it.

A screech startled you as Eagle Sun, having sensed the very conversation previously talked about, came and bid you welcome, jumping onto the ground between your legs and moving forward with a few bounces. You smiled at him, pressing a tender ‘hello’ to his beak which Noa watched with heightened interest, mild jealousy seeping at the idea that you were so willing to touch his feathery companion but always showed such reserve when you were around him. Avoiding flurried eye contact, Noa sought yours in those moments and yearned for you to return but you were not allowing yourself to do it any longer, the sensation of your heart too heavy in your chest and noticeable to Noa as he firmly had his feet planted on the ground.

“This is…” You whispered, shamefully as you drew your hand back inwards to tightly hold yourself. Feeling the feathers of the cloak that Noa was dressed in, having just commenced and finished the ceremony himself, came to rest next to you out of all people instead of taking in the celebrations with his own. You knew this behavior from him was a way of getting himself to open up to you, to learn more about the Apes so you did not fear them.

But, somewhere along the way, the fear that you held and the animosity that always bubbled right under the surface turned into adoration and admiring. How you looked at Noa as he explained things to you that you did not understand, how you wanted him to hold your hand and drag you along with him, your fingers twitching in eagerness to hold onto his grip and never let go. Drawing your knees in, you looked down at them and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t think I should be a part of it. I’m still just a human.”

Echo, Noa whispered inside of his mouth and let his gaze flicker along the side of your face as you pretended to be interested in the fire as a means to avoid eye contact. Sure… Echo only in appearance, Noa wanted to tell you and give you reassurance but he was afraid to fall over that threshold by being too bold.

Sure, Echo only in some aspects like privacy, still a strange concept to the Ape who had walked in on you dressing once and proceeded to get yelled at. Noa only regretted it for a moment though, thinking about it now as he was able to still spot in his memories the way your flesh looked in the fire light, the urge to see it again incredibly great as he nodded in understanding. Glancing down at his hand, Noa shoved the headpiece he had for you back into the sack around his waist and instead opted to raise a blue feather from Eagle Sun himself right into your vision.

Staring at it, almost cross-eyed, your lips parted in question but before you were able to say anything, Noa muttered to you, “Something… thing to remember… first ceremony with the Eagle Clan.” “Noa, I’m not a part of the Cla---” The Chimp was adamant, grasping your hand tightly into his own, your skin seemingly falling to pieces at this as he had never touched you with such intended force and for a second, you thought that he was going to break your hand. Swallowing lightly, you looked down at the contact that was made, Noa sensing your sudden instinct to fight and loosened up a bit before he brought the feather down into your forced open palm. “Please.” An invisible gasp left your lips at that as you only nodded silently, Noa’s hand hesitantly moving away from yours as he brought himself to his feet, knowing he needed to mingle with the other Apes and not spend his entire night dotting with you. Noa would though… Without hesitation, the thought ran rampant in his mind and for the second time that evening, your eyes met and Noa felt that same pull that dragged him over here in the first place. The scope of his entire body was laid in front of you. The swagger of his stance, so strong and sweeping with confidence that your words had brought him, his shoulder dressed with such beautiful detailing, years and generations of Apes history in every feather. You scooted your glance down to the feather in your hand and then back upwards to Noa, your expression telling him you were undeserving, you were not worthy of his kindness towards you, things should have never ended up this way. Noa looked down at you with eagerness to see you swallow the feather in your grasp as a form of acceptance.

If you accepted this… Noa’s heart raced as he brought his feet inward a bit to help you, fingers barely tickling along your knuckles to tell you to close your hand. If you accepted this, Noa could go after you. Noa could give any excuse in the book to the Elders that you were just as deserving as any other Female Ape that wanted his attention, that sought to be the future with him. His hand was hot and heady against your clammy fingers as you drew them in. Slowly, not breaking the eye contact that he was sure to keep stable with the flickering intent that was resting behind them. Silence but deathly in its grasp. “T-Thank you.” You barely managed to whisper with a choked cry, “I- N-never thought I’d… find….” Noa drew a deep breath in and held your hand tightly in his own, “Will always be a part of the Eagle Clan. You are free to do as you wish here. Find family… Friends, a life. May even find….” You rested on the contact he had with your body and swallowed lightly, “Find what?” “Mate. We all find one… Someday.”

Maybe not now, maybe we’re not ready, he told you quietly with his touch, desperate that his thoughts were getting across to you. We’ll fly around this, we’ll find our way back to each other if we get separated, Echo and Human. I do not understand you, you do not understand me but there is something more here, something that needs to be brought to warmth and comfort to be hatched. Feathers of a bird.

Noa smiled at you with a small huff escaping from his nose, your eyes watching his nostrils flare and settle with acute attention to how he moved, genuine for the first time and before you could say anything else to him, he was gone as you opened your hand once more and peered longingly at the feather.

Blue, special from Eagle Sun’s underwing that you enjoyed preening. Blue. You looked at the back of Noa’s head at an adjoining and matching feather. Bringing it upwards to your lips, you lightly pressed a kiss to the item and tucked it behind your ear in a silent ceremony of your own.

If he would accept you here, as you were, you’d be more than willing... You would become a part of the Eagle Clan.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAG LIST: @ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

@kaenalsha @unsteady-bitch @whamsworld

@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1 @callsignwidow @moonlightnyx @undecidedcookie

#noa #noa x reader #pota #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #noa x human reader #mae #proximus caesar #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes

209 notes · View notes