#I have like two or three more Forests left in me tops and this is a N E E D

[thornshadowwolf]

I don't remember why but I dreamed about looking up the common religions in different regions of Thailand last night

[redcherrykook]

── ‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ (tent)ative enemies - e2l, camping request

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content: friendgroup camping trip, e2l vibes, banter, tension, penetrative sex (unprotected), make out, tent sex oop, backshots, hair pulling, one slap to the ass, big dick jk, creampie, fluff lowkey, argument / angry confession (very cheesy)

note from cherry: omg i love this sm (this is a cloud anonie request so everyone mentally say thank yewww to our baby)

@jeonsbabygirlsworld <3

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"Who's idiotic idea was this again?" Miso asks, the thumping of her boots heavy on the soil,

"Jungkook's who else" you reply, rustling through leaves and branches, the striking heat burning the top of your head

He gruffs, pushing you slightly with his arm

"Might wannna hit the gym more, i'm chilling" very evidently, Jungkook is lying. The sweat trickling of the side of his face, the stains on his grey tank top and the pink hue on his honey toned skin are obvious indicators that the stupid, exhausting hiking- camping trip is getting to him.

Just like it has been getting to you and the three remaining people

Miso, someone who barely gets out of the house, has it the worst.

She's been complaining about it ever since the first hour of the trip

Brilliant idea.

Jimin and Taehyung are dealing with it as dramatically as expected

"Oh my god we need to take a break" jimin huffs, his hands pushing on his thighs with every step forward,

"I know right. Kook how much is left?" Tae agrees, moving his head torwards the younger male

"An hour. How many times have i told you it's a three hour trip" his reply makes your blood boil,

This all-knowing, cocky, ego attitude of Jungkook is unbareable

And you'd have to endure it for a total of two and a half days

You have been enduring it for two hours straight and it's to the point where one more stupid comment will make you burst

Worse than the sun burning your head, worse than the sweat ruining your freshly washed hair

"We're not taking another fucking break tae just push through"

Miso rolls her eyes too, shooting you a look to which you only manage to shrug,

"I told you" resting at the tip of your tongue, it wasn't your idea after all, it was Jungkook's and you had warned the group about this exact scenario

Being no stranger to his stupid endeavors, you might be the most familiar with his personality, having known the campus jock and heartthob since his middle school days

Is he your best friend technically?

One might call him that,

Is he also incredibly annoying and you can't stand being alone with him for 20 minutes?

Yes. Yes he is.

The hour passes and it feels more like three with each step,

Each lyric blasted into the forest by the group, shouted out to drown the heat out

"This is the campsite?" Miso says, out of breath and water, just like everyone else

"Yeah" you breath out, looking over the scenery

"Dude this is crazy!" Tae shouts, excitedly wrapping his arm around jimin and ruffling his hair

"Ouch- yes, yeah so cool" he agrees, stepping closer while trying to pry off his best friend

Maybe three hours through what felt like the Amazonas and five stages of grief were worth it after all

The glistening lake in the very back, the shade between pretty flowers and trees, the solitude and animal chirping?

It's beautiful, mesmerizing and screams relaxation,

Who are you kidding. Nothing could repair three hours of enduring jeon jungkook

"Alright, lets set the tents up" you sigh, taking big steps torward the grassy patch under a shady tree,

"I want that spot" Jungkook says, standing right in front of you

"Too bad. Take that one" you say, pointing to the tree next to yours with an overexaggerated smile,

He scoffs, messing your hair up while walking past to the tree you pointed at,

You angryly readjust your hair, watching jimin and tae goof around, almost pushing one another into the lake

"I wish i was this careless" miso says, shaking her head while also watching them

"Me too" you sigh back, fumbling with one of the tents bars,

Everything had gone fine this far but this one bar simply won't stay where it needs to

Frustrated, you slam the bar down in the grass, watching the half set up tent fall into itself

A chuckle can be heard from next to you, approaching steps accomodating it

"Need help with that?" Jungkook asks, his knees coming down next to you, eyes scanning over the mess of pieces

"Obviously"

Jungkook tsks, hands working fast to reassemble the bars and fabric,

He is making am effort to stay focused, bottom lip tucked between his teeth somtimes, his tongue grazing over the lip ring carefully

Your eyes move down to his hands, gently working on building you a place to sleep in

"You done?" He says, waving his tatted hand in front of your face,

"Huh?"

He clicks his tongue, a amused smirk slowly spreading on his face when he moves it closer

"I said, are you done" repeating himself, you just now notice that he is the one that is done, having finished assembling the small, cozy tent

"With what?" You ask, already annoyed with this attitude he carries

"Staring. If you want me, just tell me. Open that loud mouth, won't you?"

"Ew you're gross. Thanks for the tent but i won't suck your dick for it"

His smile is insufferable, that cocky, low tone and the way he leans into your face only adding to the irritaing charm he possess

"How cute. I didn't even mention that, but look who's imagining things" he hums , his thumb tracing over your cheek before standing up, leaving you to yourself on the floor

"Oh god shut up" you tell him, kicking into his leg from below,

He laughs it off, jogging towards the rest of the group

"So what you're saying is, you need to go to the supermarket?" Jungkook groans, sitting down on a folding chair,

Miso nods, "dude we totally thought at least one of us had a car with stuff"

Jimin agrees, "but turns out you were serious about the three hours"

"And you notice that now?" You reply, eyes practically rolling back into your skull

Three idiots that share half a braincell.

"Well no- but- i mean, it was too late anyways" Tae mumbles, rubbing his nape

Three idiots who were responsible of bringing food for the night,

None of which managed to bring anything but crisps who are, to no surpirse, already eaten up.

Jungkook pinches his nose bridge, sighing with evident frustration

"Now what?"

Crickets.

"Guys come on" you chime in,

Miso looks at her phone, "i could call a cab to the main street? It's a 25 minute walk to there"

Jimin and tae hum,

"Okay. It's the best option" you sigh, combing through your hair

Jungkook looks up at you from his seat

"Yeah. We'll set up the fire and you guys go to the-"

"No way", you scoff, looking at him with wide eyes,

He responds with an annoyed laugh, running his hands over the visible muscles on his thighs

"Seriously?"

You nod, "dead serious"

Silence, once again.

Jungkook takes off, practically shooting up from his chair and walking to the fireplace

For the very first time, the air feels heavy.

You look back to the other three who are all staring at you like a deer in headlights,

"Go. Just go, i'll take care of him" you shake your head, watching them wander off to the main street.

A pit forms in your stomach, the anxiety creeping up in your throat when approaching a visibly angry jungkook

You've never felt bad for bickering with him, mostly because he always returned it

But this time, it hurt. Something shifted when you saw his doe eyes glimmer, almost like he was hurt himself.

The way his jaw clenches when you stop in front of him makes you shiver,

"What?" He snaps, breaking a couple branches and throwing them on the stack,

"I'm sorry" you mutter, the pride in you never backing down, your voice sounds as annoyed as it did 4 minutes ago,

He takes a second to respond, stepping closer to you,

"You piss me off so much" he says, locking his eyes on yours, his gaze is dark, almost intimidating

The air feels even heavier now, you try to ignore it, ignore the goosebumps you get from his voice,

"We're equal then"

His tongue grazes the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowing slightly

"No we're not. We can't be"

The anger inside you boils up quickly,

"Why? Because you're so much better than everyone?" you spit out, mockingly pouting at him,

"No. because you think i'm insufferable and don't want me around" he replies, almost cutting you off in the sentence

"Whats not equal about that? You literally hate me-"

"Shut up" he says, this time fully cutting you off

"What did you say?" you laugh out in utter disbelief,

"I said shut. Up."

"You know what? No because-"

"Oh my god will you shut up? I hate you? Are you insane?" borderline yelling, his eyes never leave yours, staring you down

This time, you have nothing to say.

"I hate you? Seriously? Like i haven't been in love with you for years? Like i can't take my eyes off of you, and the only reason i show off is to impress you? Like it doesn't hurt my feelings when you pretend like the worst thing is to be near me?"

The words leave his mouth so quickly, neither yours nor his mind can catch up, panting, he looks at you, biting his lower lip, seemingly realizing what he just admitted to

His hands run over his face,

"Look i-"

"Jungkook" it's your turn to interrupt him now, looking him dead in the eyes,

You're met with nervousness,

"Yes?" he says, whispering

"If you don't kiss me right now i'll kill you"

There's no time to think when he ruthlessly crashes his lips to yours, grabbing you by the waist with greedy hands and pressing your body to his,

His lips are needy, eagerly moving against yours with groans muffled into the kiss,

You sigh softly, hands finding his jaw to pull him in closer,

His teeth bite at your lower lip, making you open up just enough for him to slip his tongue in, exploring every inch of your mouth

A couple minutes of this heated kiss go by, until he breaks it, ragged, heavy breathing fanning against your lips

His forhead rests on yours,

"Holy fuck" you whisper, making him smirk slightly, connecting his lips to yours again,

"I need you so bad" he mumbles into the kiss in a deep groan, pushing his lips against yours with desperation

You pull away this time, hands on his shoulders while your face is moved back enough to see him in full view,

Swollen pink lips, barely illuminated face

"If this was a ploy to sleep with me you're gonna drown in that lake" you laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly

He snarks, hosting you up in his hands before carrying you to his tent,

"Unfortunately i am an embarrassing amount in love with you, but hey, if you don't wanna fuck-"

You shut him up by kissing him,

"Don't ruin the mood" you say, climbing into his tent on all fours

His eyes focus on your ass, round enough to show beneath the shorts,

With now both of you inside the tent, his hands immediately find your hips,

"We don't have much time pretty, i'll make it up to you at home" he says, pulling your shorts and panties down in one go,

Your back arches immediately, the noise of his joggers being pulled down only adding to the exciment

"It's okay kook, i'm as desperate as you are" you reply, only to feel him smack your ass harshly,

"So you did imagine sucking my dick?" he says, groping at your soft skin,

"Many times jungkook"

suddenly, you feel his thumb move down to your entrance, pressing in only slightly before pulling away

"Fuck you're so sexy. Can i pull your hair?" He groans, pumping his heavy cock before guiding it to slide between your folds,

"You freak, god, yes, you can"

A strangled moan leaves your lip when he pushes his entire length in, one of his hands gripping your hip tightly while the other one gathers up your hair, pulling on it

"Fuck, you're so tight. You're not a virgin are you baby?" he huffs, snapping his hips against yours slowly at first,

You giggle between moans, gripping at the tent floor with what you can gather,

"No- i'm not. You're just- fuck- huge"

He throws his head back, pulling on your hair harsher while his hips speed up significantly, hitting that soft spot inside you over and over again,

Both of you are trying to keep the moans down, yours muffled by the ground under you, jungkook's deep growls quiet enough for only you to hear

"You feel so good, i wanted to fuck this pussy for ages" he mutters, letting go of your hair to harshly pull your hips back, making you meet his thrust half way,

Your knees feel weak, pressed into the ground and that pool in your stomach only grows, threatening to snap any second

"You're mine now right baby? My girl? My pussy? My bratty little thing?"

you let out a high pitched yes, followed by a desperate plea of his name,

"Gonna cum?" he groans, pushing his hips deeper inside of you,

You only manage to nod, mind having gone practically blank with the way he feels inside of you,

The knot snaps, legs shaking and cum coating his dick entirely,

"Mhm fuck, coming baby" his moans are deep, pushing a few slow thrusts into you, splurting his milky cum inside your cunt

A few minutues of silence pass before he pulls out, watching your pussy pulse and release his cum slowly, his entire shaft covered in the both of yours arousal,

Suddenly, you feel him kiss the side of your hips before softly flipping you around, making you lay on your back

You smile up at him weakly, watching as he cleans the both of you up carefully, pulling your panties and shorts back to normal before laying down next to you

"I left fingerprints, does it hurt? I didn't realize how rough i was pulling you" he says, placing small kisses on your cheek

You shake your head, intertwining your hand with his,

"It's okay. You're actually nice, wow" the urge to be teasing him returns, nudging his nose with yours

Jungkook bites your cheek playfully, then, he kisses all over your face,

"Stoooop" you whine, a broad smile creeping up to your face,

"I'm obsessed with you. God, you don't even know" he mumbles, cupping your face in his hands

"Should we knock or something?" Tae says,

The three of them standing a couple meteres from your tents,

They have been, for the past 20 minutes,

Bags in each hand,

"Uhm? Sure" Miso says, turning her attention to the tent again,

"Well," jimin starts, "at least they get along now"

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Three) (18+) / Part One | Part Two

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 6.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Dinner is a tense affair, but by the end of it it feels less like walking on eggshells and more like walking around hard boiled eggs on the floor. There won’t be a goopy mess if you step wrong, but no one wants a squashed egg.

You and Jake seem to be getting on as friends, as long as you ignore all of the blatantly romantic elements of your current situation. You’re unfortunately subjected to a man beside you fingering his roommate beneath the table cloth, and you’re glad that Jake also agrees that despite being on a sex boat, that kind of thing is better done in private.

“Unless, of course, everyone’s into that,” He shoots you another one of his patented winks, and you delight in reaching across the table to steal the cherry off of his black forest cake.

“Hey! Oh, whatever,” He scoffs at your triumphant grin, reaching for his glass of wine. There’s not much left in the bottle; he’s a heavy pour and you didn’t bother counting his glasses- you just know he’s had more than one. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of pink, and you plan on snapping as many pictures as you can as soon as you can get him hazy enough to let you. 

“Here, Hangman,” You feign kindness, taking hold of the bottle and trying to line the neck up with the rim of his glass despite him pulling away, “There’s only a little bit left, finish it off so you don’t waste your money.”

“No, ‘can’t.” He insists, gulping the rest of what’s in his glass in a manner rather contradictory to his words, “Gotta sober up again if we’re going out tonight.”

“I’m going out tonight,” You remind him firmly, finding woozy, pliant Jake much easier to talk to than sharp-as-a-tack Hangman, “You were all set to head to bed earlier; I thought you were some sort of kissing fiend on wine.”

“That’s why I’m soberin’ up, darlin’.” Jake drawls, and though he’s blinking slower than normal, his tone indicates that you’re the stupid one.

“Can’t be much of a security guard if my eyes are goin’ all dizzy,” He says, his tongue lazing into a southern twang that’s sharper when he’s oiled up with booze.

“Security guard?” You echo incredulously, “Hangman, what possessed you to think I’d need a security guard? I’m in the Navy, we both know how to aim between the eyes.”

“No, you know how to aim between the legs,” Jake licks the bitter wine residue from his lips, most likely tasting a sweet tinge of chocolate there, too, “I just don’t feel right leavin’ you with that Daniel guy.”

“He’s nice.” You speak with a tight clench to your teeth, and though you have to separate them to fit your dessert fork into your mouth, they still feel tense. You supplement the need to snap at him by grinding the pastry dough on your tongue into shreds with your molars. Perhaps you’re brutalizing your pie instead of enjoying it, but you’re not in much of a state to enjoy anything right now, except maybe liquor.

“If you’re not gonna drink this, I will,” You secede, waving the bottle at him, “If I’ve gotta spend the night with you I don’t wanna remember it.”

“Finally,” He scoffs, reaching now for his water glass where it’s sweating on the table cloth. His cold, calculating smooth-talk has been reduced to a petulant fit, “Only reason I bought the damn wine was for you, ‘then you had to make a big fuss about it, ‘n all of a sudden you’re suckin’ it down just ‘cause I’m gonna crash your little date later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very unfair, Hangman,” You drawl, the only thing stopping you from drinking straight from the bottle being the elegant setting around you, “I’m unreasonable and I think you should ask someone to switch roommates because you can’t stand me.”

“Oh, nice try,” He levels you with a glare, water beading at the corners of his lips as his hand trembles slightly around the glass, “That’s that reverse psychology bullshit. Nah, I can handle you. You jus’ need a good kiss, that’s all.”

Annoyance prickles in your chest; he’d been shaming you for kissing earlier, now he’s prescribing it?

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Mhm.” He nods, his eyes slipping shut as he braces his hand against his forehead, elbow on the table to support his weight. He looks pitiful- like he’d worked 14 hours and not like a man on vacation. Perhaps the water is working, loosening the effects of the sweet wine and leaving him drained in its wake.

“It would calm you down, I think.” He mumbles, somewhere hazy between sleep and wake, “Jus’ gotta arm wrestle Damien for it.”

“Daniel.”

“Whatever.”

--

Jake has mostly sobered up by the time that you’re all four bathed in multicolored strobe lighting one deck down from the restaurant. He’s sticking to strictly water now which is bringing his awareness back, but he has to take trips to the bathroom every ten minutes. You don’t mind- you appreciate having the time alone with Daniel.

“So,” He hums, hands framing your waist and chest pressed to your own, “He’s a little protective, isn’t he? You guys have a thing going on?”

“No thing.” You snap, “There’s no thing going on between us.”

“He acts like there is,” Daniel muses, and it’s somewhere between disappointed and resentful. But his hands never stray from your skin, so you hope it’s not directed at you.

“He just- he likes to be the best in everything,” You explain, the words escaping in a sigh, “You should see him in the cockpit, he’s insufferable. ‘Always has to win. I think that’s all it is, Daniel. And- for him to win, I’d have to lose. So I think he’s trying to bully you away from me, then he can boast about how I’m lonely and he’s not. He does it all the time back home.”

Daniel’s face curves into a frown, “He seems like a douche. ‘Like the kinda guy you should stay away from.”

“Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from him,” You scoff, tucking your nose against Daniel’s chest while the music lulls into a more heartfelt melody, “But for the next seven days we’re stuck on a boat together.”

“At least Danica likes him. Maybe we can unofficially swap.” Daniel nods towards his roommate, who’s now offering Jake a beer where he’s just exited the restroom. 

You watch as he grins charmingly- the same one he’d leveled at you during dinner only an hour before, “No thanks, darlin’. I’ve gotta keep an eye on that one over there.”

The pair glance at you when Jake gestures, and you realize they’ve caught you staring when you hadn’t even realized you were doing it yourself. You press your face back against Daniel’s chest, a strange breed of embarrassment heating your cheeks. 

“You can drink,” You call to Jake, agonizing as you’d rather keep your voice to a low murmur against Daniel’s ear, “I don’t need to be babysat.”

At that exact moment the four shots you’d done of something they’d promised you was mild all flood to your ankle and weaken it so that it gives out under your weight. You stumble, your foot bending awkwardly as you shriek, gravity trying its best to drag you down to the scuffed floor.

Daniel’s eyes widen but he works quickly, and his strong arms brace against your back as he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. He glances over your shoulder at Jake who’d lunged forwards to catch you, and there’s a tightness in his jaw, a hardness in his eyes as he straightens up that spells irritation close to bursting. Daniel smirks at him.

“What were you saying?,” Daniel chuckles, letting you ease your hands off of him where you’d gripped tight to his biceps, “I’d make a ‘falling for me’ joke but it’d be so bad I’d throw myself overboard afterwards.”

“Sorry,” You bemoan the surely stinging handprints on Daniel’s toned biceps, “I didn’t mean to- aah,” You hiss, gingerly raising your tweaked ankle, “I rolled it or something, I’ll- ooh, I’ll be back. Just gonna ask the bartender for some ice.”

Both men step forwards to brace your weight against theirs- even Danica offers her hand, but you wave them off with a sheepish laugh.

“I’m okay, guys, really. I can walk, it just-” You wince, a twinge of pain shooting through your ankle, “It just hurts a bit. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom for a minute with the ice on it, ‘see what that does.”

Daniel looks hesitant to leave you, but he lets you hobble to the counter. The bartender looks suspicious of your request at first, like you’re somehow cheating him out of profit by asking for six ice cubes in a plastic bag. But one glance down at your elevated ankle gets him moving, and he wraps it once in a paper towel before passing it over the counter.

The bathroom counter is not an ideal resting spot, but it does give you a chance to glance at your makeup in the mirror. It’s mostly in-tact, but you note that your lipstick has faded some, partially from pressing it to the rim of your glass and partially from pressing it to Daniel’s own mouth. You’d shared a few more dizzying kisses on the dance floor, and they make your rolled ankle worth it a thousand times over.

The ice bleeds condensation through the towel after only a few minutes, and you turn the package so the dry side is now pressed to your sore limb. You hear footsteps and you ensure that your dress is draped over your lap- sure it’s a sex cruise but no one wants to see you on display, and glance at the doorway to see who’d come in through the hall.

It’s Jake.

In the women’s bathroom.

“Hey!” You scoff, glaring at him while your fingers numb with cold, “Get out of here, you creep. This is the women’s bathroom.”

“I know. But you’re treating it like a hospital, so I’m gonna do the same. How’s your ankle?” He glances towards your foot braced on the counter, “Dalton can’t be that good of a dancer if he’s steppin’ on your feet the whole time.”

“First off, it’s Daniel. Second, I didn’t roll my ankle because he stepped on me, I rolled it because I’m drunk.”

A satisfied smile flits over Jake’s face, “So you do need babysitting, then?”

You neglect to respond verbally in favor of trying to melt his face off with your glare. It doesn’t work- in fact, his own expression only gets brighter.

“So, whaddya say we just drop right down on the tile and go for it?” He offers, gesturing towards the dingy bathroom floor, “Or- this counter might work,” He leans forwards to brace his biceps against it, shaking to no avail as the fixture stays tight.

“Oh, yes, that would be very comfortable,” You gripe.

“It could be.”

“Get out, Hangman.” You grimace, shifting the ice against your ankle, “I just wanna freeze this pain away and get back out there, and I think your presence is somehow making it hurt worse.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special,” He cocks his head slightly, leaning against the counter and glancing at your ankle, “Is it throbbing?”

“No. Just stings a bit.” You grumble, keeping your eyes off of his dress shirt and the way he’s rolled the sleeves up. It’s a pretty color, nice against his tan skin.

“Right.” He murmurs, voice similarly soft as the music leaks in muffled through the walls.

“You can go,” You nod towards the door, “I think Danica really likes you. Which is weird, because she’s heard you open your big fat mouth, and that’s usually what sends ‘em running.”

Jake rolls his eyes in an excellent impression of Penny’s daughter Amelia now that she’s in the throes of teenagedom. 

“Anyways, you should go and drink with her. Have fun,” You offer, hesitantly kind to him, “You might as well get lucky even if you got stuck with a prudish roommate.”

“You’re not prudish,” He narrows his eyes at you, “You and Devon dry-humped in an elevator.”

“Daniel!”

“You didn’t even deny it,” Jake mock-gasps, “I bet the two of you were rubbin’ up on each other-”

“Get out.”

“-from decks 1-8. Hey, what’s that Ed Sheeran line that Rooster likes? Up and comin’ like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator?”

“Get out!”

Your ice pack doubles as an excellent projectile, but Jake was raised with older sisters, and is fantastic at dodging things flying towards his face.

He catches it with that infuriating grin he’s always shooting at you, and he tosses it into the trash while extending his other hand as an offering towards you.

“C’mon, Roger Clemens, let’s get back out there, shall we? Or are you too drunk to stand?”

“I can stand,” You insist, ignoring his hand and sliding off of the counter onto your feet, though one protests the weight with a sharp jolt of pain up your leg.

“Sure,” He scoffs, once more rolling his eyes skyward as he grabs hold of your bicep anyways, hoisting part of your weight onto him, “Let’s just get outta here before a gaggle of you ladies decide they’re all going to the bathroom together. Why do you do that, by the way?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because men have a habit of wandering in despite the clear sign on the door that says Women’s.” You glare up at him, but you let him help you hobble out of the bathroom.

“I go where I’m needed. You needed a medic,” He shrugs, angling you towards one of the barstools so that you can rest your weight again, “And you needed someone to tell you to stay away from that David guy.”

You snap your eyes shut instead of correcting Jake yet again, instead focusing on why he’s being particularly dickish this evening.

“Why do you care so much? He’s a nice man, why are you so angry that we’re connecting?”

“Because I don’t think he’s a nice man,” Jake’s face scrunches in a frown packed with judgment, “He defiled you in an elevator and he’s leaving his roommate high and dry.”

“No he’s not,” You scoff, “They’re dancing right now!” 

You jab a finger towards the pair now pressed together on the dance floor, ignoring the newly familiar tinge of jealousy in your chest when you see Daniel’s hands pressed to Danica’s waist just the same as they’d been to yours. It’s fine. You’re on a sex cruise; he signed a lot of contracts but monogamy wasn’t one of them.

“That’s worse,” Jake sneers, his hand sliding from your bicep to your back to steady you on the barstool, “He’s not loyal to either of you.”

“I don’t need his loyalty.”

“That’s not right. You should want loyalty. You don’t see me chatting up everyone’s roommates, do you?”

“You’re certainly friendly with Danica! And I don’t need your loyalty either, Jake!” You gush, voice raising, “Loyalty is for relationships! This is sex! Heated, messy, sloppy, dirty sex!”

Jake’s eyes dim of their usual fire, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his grin stays plastered in place. Then, slowly, bitterly, it fades, and he looks away towards a water ring on the surface of the bar, “Sex ain’t all there is in life. One day you’ll want loyalty.”

Your indignant laugh comes immediately, “Hangman, I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on loyalty. You’ve cycled through every tourist that makes the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to the naval base. You’re not even loyal to your friends, why do you think we call you Hangman?”

The fire in his eyes is back, but it’s hot and not warm. Low blow. Maybe if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have said it.

His jaw is tight when it opens for him to spit, “That’s ‘cause I ain’t got a girl I wanna be loyal to. And- and that Hangman shit is old, I don’t leave you hanging anymore. Not in the air, and not on the ground. Not after-”

Neither of you say it, but you both remember the sheer terror you’d felt when Bradley had gone down trying to save Maverick. How Jake had begged to be launched in a search and rescue, how they’d held him back until they were certain the two pilots were already on their way back. Like they didn’t want to risk one man to save two. Like Jake’s pleading wasn’t proof enough that they were more than just soldiers, more than just numbers, that they were people, too. You owe him that; he’d shown loyalty there, even if his pride had been hurt. Perhaps that proves his ego doesn’t win out, even if its what he likes to display.

“Fine.” You murmur, biting your cheek, “But- but just stay out of this, okay? If I wanna fool around with someone then I can, doesn’t matter if he won’t be here after this cruise is over.”

Jake’s face sours impossibly further, “Fine.”

He storms off through the crowd, and there’s a handprint-shaped cold spot on your back. 

You scoff at his dramatic display, but before the bartender serves you the drink you order in a huff, Daniel comes weaving towards you through the crowd.

“He asked to swap,” Daniel informs you, “And he called you my ‘side chick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a bitter sip of your drink, eyes widening at the strength, “Oh, god, if I can even aim.”

“Aim?” Daniel asks, slight trepidation clouding his features, “You gonna punch him?”

“Nah, I’ll shoot him down in a fighter jet.”

It draws a laugh out of Daniel, and you enjoy the rich, warm sound. It sounds a little how your drink tastes, but it’s not as sour.

It’s just as intoxicating, though, and you let it make you dizzy as he takes your hands and spins you on the barstool to the rhythm of the music, dancing with you as much as you’re capable of.

--

“I think she’s one drink away from falling off of that stool,” Danica muses, and Jake’s eyes snap to her own where her head reaches his shoulder.

“What? Y/N?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at her for the last six songs.”

“Sorry.” Jake grimaces, “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“It’s fine.” She pats his chest and god, it’s pathetic and oozing with pity, “She was giving you a hard time earlier?”

“She’s always giving me a hard time. Can’t just let me help her, she’s gotta make a big stink of everything.”

“Mm-hm,” She nods along, and Hangman begins wondering if this is how people feel when they speak to him. Patronized and condescended.

“Well, I don’t think she’s capable of giving you a hard time anymore,” She narrows in on the way you’re slumped against Daniel’s shoulder, face stretched into a permanent lazy grin, “You wanna head out for the night and get her to bed before she passes out?”

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, but his eyes never leave your slouched frame, “I’m having a nice time dancing with you, doll.”

“No you’re not.”

He turns to her, brows furrowed, “What?”

“No,” She repeats, but there’s mirth in her voice instead of reprimand, “You’re not. You’re worried about her. You two are friends?”

“Something like that.” Jake hums, but pointedly never denies her accusations, “She’s just- pardon me for speaking ill of your roommate, Danica, but I don’t want him messing around with her.”

“Mm. So you’re her father?”

“No,” Jake’s face wrinkles, and he tugs his arm an inch tighter around her waist, “We’re friends like you said. Sort of. The kind of friends that are always at each other’s throats, y’know the type.”

“Oh. So fuckbuddies.”

“No,” Jake laughs, and it eases out some of the worrisome creases in his face, puts new, happier ones in his skin instead, “See, I suggested that this cruise partnership was a work’a fate, that it’d give us a chance to blow off some of our steam, but she won’t have it. So now I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“Ooh, so you’re not even in the friendzone,” Danica grimaces, a dry smile on her face, “Well, Jake, for what it’s worth, I think she’s lucky to have you as a roommate. And as whatever sort of friend you are to her.”

Jake nods tersely, head still turned to watch the way Daniel keeps you upright with an arm around your waist. 

“She said-” Jake starts, then remembers he’s talking to a woman he barely knows, then remembers he’s got nothing to lose, “She said all this shit earlier about me not being loyal. Reliable, trustworthy, all that. And- I wasn’t, okay? I was a… not so great person. For longer than I’d like to admit. But,” His throat feels tight now, and it tenses in his jaw as Danica listens, “I’m not like that anymore. And I haven’t been for long enough for her to notice. If she’s lookin’, that is. Which- I guess she’s not. But I just thought maybe- I thought maybe she’d see it and we could be different. I still wanna tease her, of course. But at dinner she told me she thought I was just trying to ruin this for her. And I’m not,” His eyes gleam, not with tears but with something close and soulful as he blinks into Danica’s eyes, “I’m trying to make it better. I’m trying to make it the week of her life. The week of both of our lives. I’m just…” He hesitates, weighing the word on his tongue, “I’m afraid she won’t let me.”

Danica squeezes gently at his bicep through his dress shirt, and briefly mourns that the beefiest man on this ship is 100%, prime-time in love with you. She’d have loved to spend a night with him, but she kisses her chances goodbye as she smiles sweetly at Jake.

“You’re a good friend. You’re a very good friend, Jake. You’re trying to be very good at being much more than a friend. But she’s not seeing it, right?”

Jake nods, and she mimics the action, “So you need to show her. Show, not tell. Even if she’s resistant, even if she tries to gripe at you, it’s because she’s still seeing the man you used to be. And hey, maybe she won’t want the man you’ve become, even if you worked hard on becoming him. But there’s no reason to throw up your hands now, is there? Let her see the real you, then she’ll decide whether she’s willing to have you. Be patient. It’s all up to her in the end, so be this new-and-improved version of yourself, and she’ll take care of the rest. Okay? Remember, you’re a good friend.”

Jake nods at her reassuring words, steeling himself for a week of patience that he doesn’t typically possess.

Danica continues through the silence, “Aaand a good friend would make sure she gets back to her cabin before she blows chunks all over her hookup’s shoes, right?”

“Oh.” Jake’s eyes widen momentarily as his head jerks towards you - he’s only ever seen you upchuck twice before, both times after rowdy nights out with the group, but he is noticing a familiar pudge to your cheeks that can’t spell anything good. He’s tempted to let you ralph all over Daniel, teach you a lesson about mouthing off to people that are only trying to be nice- but that’s what pre-dagger squad Hangman would have thought. That’s old Hangman, the aviator who’d have sold his wingman out for fame and glory. Now he’s an entirely different Hangman, the one with a rope around his neck that tightens each time Daniel squeezes the pudge of your hip.

“Thanks, Danica,” He breaks away from her embrace with a kind, chaste smile, none of his usual toothy sleaze, “Hey, uh- enjoy your night with Daniel. Careful, though: I’ve heard he does terrible things in elevators.”

“I’ll keep it in mind!” She calls, her voice a melodious laugh as she waves goodbye at him, “Straight to bed, Jake! And leave water on the nightstand!”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” He’s happy to let his southern drawl take over, nodding at her with a wink before spinning around to face you.

Daniel glances up at him, and his attempt at keeping a neutral expression over his face is valiant, but some of the wariness seeps through in the way that his arm tightens almost imperceptibly around your shoulders. Your eyes are desperately trying to stay open but they still lock onto Jake no problem, and you raise both of your eyebrows in what Jake is certain was an attempt to only raise one.

“Yes, Hangman?” You ask, your voice thick with booze, “You need somethin’?”

“You look like you’re about to need a trashcan,” Jake tentatively reaches for you, “C’mon, it’s gettin’ late. We should head back to the cabin for the night.”

Jake expects another jab about the nature of the cruise, but what he gets is drunken compliance, an easy reach of your hand for his own and a mumbled, ‘kay’.

“Hold on,” Daniel catches your waist, keeping you suspended between them, “You sure you can get her back okay?”

There’s a sharp tilt to his brow that makes Jake think Daniel’s not questioning whether he’s strong enough to carry you. The thought both offends and disgusts Jake, and he takes pleasure in swatting Daniel’s arm away from your hips to tug you into his embrace.

“She’s safe with me,” Jake scoffs, “But your roommate’s gettin’ lonely out there, Dallas.”

“It’s Dominic,” You gripe, the stench of liquor hitting Jake full-force now that your face is only inches away from his own, your forehead bumping his jaw.

Daniel hadn’t found Jake’s jab to be very funny, but a smile quirks the corners of his mouth at your slip-up, and he finally lets you go with a pat to the hip.

“You can call me any name you want, Y/N,” He offers, but his eyes pass darkly over Jake’s tense face, “So long as it’s not Jake.”

“No, no, he’s- he’s Jake.” You jab a sharp finger into Jake’s chest and he flinches back slightly, hissing at the contact.

“Good memory, darlin’.” Jake commends you, “Now let’s head for the elevators, m’kay?”

“I love elevators,” You sigh, no doubt remembering the feverish embrace you’d shared in one only hours prior, “Daniel, are you coming too?”

His face turns down in visible pain and he shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go find Danica - she’s probably looking for me.”

“She’s probably found someone else by now,” Jake laughs, haughty and biting, “I wouldn’t wait around for someone if they were hellbent on fooling around with someone else.”

“Really?” Daniel speaks like he’s snapping at Jake, gnashing and snarling like a fighting dog, “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

The weight of your head slumped in the juncture between Jake’s neck and shoulder feels like shackles. 

For a moment the two men stare at each other, and if you weren’t slowly losing consciousness between them, they might have given into their tension-fueled urge to scrap like feisty teens. But you release a soft, tender sigh against Jake’s chest, and he hikes his arm up under your thighs instead.

“‘Gonna lift you, darlin’.” He informs you, waiting only a second before he scoops you into a bridal hold. Your head is quick to loll backwards at a grotesque angle, and before Jake can balance you out, Daniel reaches over to assist.

“Here, honey,” The man croons, nestling your head against Jake’s bicep, and he watches in abject horror as Daniel leans down to press his lips to your forehead, “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? I’ll find you.”

Jake is desperate to know whether your responding smile is dreamy from the liquor or from the sight of his face, “Mm, okay, g’night.”

“Night,” Daniel murmurs fondly, and Jake is all too happy to drag you away from him. 

“Slow down,” You plead when Jake is ten steps out of the bar and beelining for the elevators, “I’m gonna spew.”

“Not on me, please,” Jake jolts to a stop in the middle of the hallway, noting the rhythmic rocking motion of the boat and cringing, “Can I go for the elevator?”

“Slowly,” You mumble, and evidently you hadn’t heard his begging by the way you nestle your nose into his chest.

Upon hearing the ding of the elevator your eyes snap open, and you seem horrified despite having heard the word mere seconds before.

“Wait. No elevator.”

“What?”

“No elevator. Please, I can’t- ugh,” You groan, leaning away from Jake to hang your face over the ground beside him, “I can’t take the pressure of moving up in an enclosed space.”

“Well we’re one floor away from our room, how do you expect me to get you up there?” Jake gripes.

Approximately thirty seconds later he’s hauling you up a flight of agonizingly shallow stairs.

“This is bullshit.” Jake scoffs, “Should’ve had Daniel do this.”

“Dean,” You correct him, “His name is Dean.”

“No it’s not!” Jake laughs incredulously, rounding the corner to the second half of the staircase, “See, if you can’t even remember his name, you shouldn’t be foolin’ around with the guy.”

“What’s the name of the last woman you took home, Hangman?” You shoot him a glare with narrowed eyes where you’re still held in his arms, and he stops in his tracks to shoot you a menacing glance of his own while his chest heaves from exertion.

“Touche. That’s why I stopped foolin’ around with her, though. Couldn’t care enough to remember.”

“You never care,” You grumble groggily, and Jake tugs the both of you up the remaining four steps until he’s on your cabin’s level.

Your words are slashing relentlessly at a wound that’s been gaping for longer than Jake can remember. He thinks it's worse when you’re drunk- you’re shitfaced enough to forget your new boytoy’s name, but you still remember how shallow and vapid of a person Jake used to be.

“Right now, I care very deeply that you’ve got your room key with you. Or that you can reach mine; whichever works. You got it on you, darlin’?”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” You lament, “Where’s yours?”

“Uh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder, “Back pocket.”

Alcohol courses through your veins in the same quantity blood does when you reach with no inhibition for Hangman’s ass.

Jake’s eyes widen as he feels your fingers prodding and poking liberally around his dress pants, finally finding the pocket and slipping inside. He stays frozen solid at the door while you root around for his phone, finally pulling it out and squinting to focus on it as you bring it towards your face.

“Room key,” You pull out one of his debit cards out of the sleeve on the back, handing it to him expectantly.

“Uh- no, not exactly,” He strains to keep you suspended- he’s starting to wonder if you’ve got more muscle mass than he does, “The red one in the front, Y/N, that’s the room key. And I don’t have a hand to unlock the door with, so you’ll have to do that yourself.”

You toss his debit card onto the floor like it’s garbage.

“Hey! That’s- oh, just get the key.” He kicks it forwards, keeping it propped against the toe of his shoe while he waits for the door to open.

“Got it,” You drawl, and this time you’re right. You lean forwards without waiting for Hangman to move with you, and he nearly drops you where you’re aiming the keycard for the slot on the lock.

“Jesus, just- stick it in!” Hangman snaps, eyes on his debit card still discarded on the floor, “Let’s hope you never use a strap-on, you’ve got terrible aim.”

“I got it,” You grunt and a green light flashes while the lock clicks open. You manage to jiggle the door handle until the heavy slab of wood swings open, and Hangman is glad you’d remembered to leave a light on before you’d left.

He takes his final steps towards the bed and sets you down on the side he’d left open earlier. You’re too shitfaced to remember that you were vehemently opposed to sleeping in the bed earlier, and he’s glad for it when you sink willingly into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed, lashes resting over your cheeks.

“Hang on, ‘gonna get you some water. You- uh, change while I’m gone.”

He ambles off to the bathroom, and when he hears rustling outside the door he shuts himself inside to give you privacy. He decides to change into his own sleeping clothes, but it’s less of an outfit and more of a strip tease until he’s standing on the cool tile floor in nothing but boxers. He hadn’t planned on wearing much of anything for the entire week, and he definitely hadn’t packed sleeping clothes.

He fills a glass of water and knocks briefly on the inside of the bathroom door, “Hey Y/N, I’m coming out, m’kay?”

There’s no reply.

He assumes you’d shout at him if he tried barging in on you changing- in fact, you had only hours prior. He takes your silence as permission to exit the bathroom, but when he finds you curled up in bed, your dress is still on.

Evidently you hadn’t been changing.

“Y/N,” He groans, reaching out to prod tentatively at your shoulder, “No, don’t do this to me. Wake up, c’mon.”

Your eyes are firmly shut, glued there by booze.

“Shit.”

Jake sets the water on your square nightstand, ankles sturdy despite the rocking motions of the boat. He’s well used to being at sea, and it doesn’t make him unstable as he leans over to inspect your sleeping face. He can see your eyes flitting this way and that, barely covered by the thin skin of your lids, and he marvels at your drunken ability to knock out like you’ve been concussed mere minutes after hitting the mattress.

He lifts your arm and when he lets go it falls pathetically over your chest - there’s no waking you.

“Okay,” Jake grimaces, reaching for one of the straps of your dress, “For the record, I don’t wanna be doin’ this.”

“If you were awake you’d be yellin’ at me for breathing towards you,'' Jake rambles, a running dialogue making him feel slightly better about stripping you naked in your sleep, “But if you wake up tomorrow in this deathtrap you’re gonna be pissed, so I’m doin’ what I think is best. I swear it’s not a ploy to stick my hand down your shirt.”

And- speaking of sticking his hand down your shirt, he has to ruck the fabric of your dress up and over your breasts to slide it off of your head, “Aaand, there they are, and they’re out now, and that bra looks really uncomfortable, so I’m gonna-”

Jake slides his hands beneath your back, locating the series of clasps easily. 

“Please don’t kill me,” Jake begs, blinking up at the ceiling as his neck aches with the way he cranes his head upwards, “I’m not lookin’, I swear.”

He peels your pushup bra off of your chest, and the fabric is warm where he tosses it in the vague direction of your suitcase. He wants nothing more than to linger on that, to press his hand to the pad that had just cupped your flesh and let the warmth travel south. But he is a Southern gentleman, and you’re sleeping, and the bra remains discarded in the hallway.

“Right. Now the pajamas,” He continues his stream of consciousness if only to reassure himself that he’s not a creeping perv in the darkness of your cabin, “For both of our sakes, Y/N, I hope you packed better nightwear than I did.”

Upon discovering nothing but lacy chemises neatly folded among your other clothes, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Don’t go gripin’ at me in the morning for sticking you in one of these things. It was your poor packing skills that led us here.”

He plunges a hand into your suitcase and comes out with a red lacy contraption. He feels, to his own incredulity, a blush rising over his cheeks, as if he’s a teenage boy thumbing through a porn mag and not a decorated naval aviator. He drops the red thing, and reaches for something less sinful. What he finds next is a softer pink garment, silky and longer than the red- though he’s sure it’ll only barely cover your ass. All he wants is to cover his own, though, to make sure he won’t be in trouble for cramming you into a sexy getup while you’re passed out drunk, and the pink is looking better than the red for that purpose. Although- Jake has to admit, the pink is sexy in its own right. It’s soft, and smooth, and delicate, and he’s getting uncomfortable down south so he really needs to stop staring at it.

“Pink it is, darlin’.” He hums, “Hope you don’t mind. Maybe when we dock you can find something a little more conservative. Up you go,” He slides a hand beneath your back, his eyes trained dutifully on your forehead and absolutely nothing down below, “Hope y’don’t mind your hair getting a little messy. I think you scruffed it up when you hit that banister earlier, anyways.” Technically, that had been equal parts yours and his fault. He’d been carrying you, so he could have been a little more careful about swinging you this way and that as he’d navigated the ships’ halls, but you kept reaching out to touch things, and you’d collided square with a metal post in your curiosity. He bunches up the chemise and slides it over your head, careful not to scrape the lace over what little of your lip gloss remains. He doesn’t want to add staining your clothes to the list you’ve surely got of all his transgressions against you.

It’s rather hard to dress you blindly, and his hand does accidentally dip between your tits as he tries settling the material against your skin. He jerks it away like it’s burnt, hissing as his eyes widen where they’re staring at a particularly boring ceiling light.

“Accident. It was an accident. I swear.” He vows, hoping against hope that you’ll stay sleeping as he clumsily dresses you.

“Christ,” He yanks the material down your thighs, settling the chemise into place, “‘Knew how easy it was to take one off’a woman, never knew how hard it was to put it on. I think,” He muses, blinking long and hard before peering down carefully at you. You’re fully clothed, “That’s good. Okay. Done.”

The silence in the room is deafening now that he doesn’t need to keep up a stream of dialogue to soothe his fraying nerves, and his footsteps seem to pound against the cabin floor as he rounds the bed to his own side. There’s plenty of room, but he still feels like he’s sinning - crawling into bed beside your sleep-limp, pink satin-swathed form in nothing but his boxers.

With one click of the remote beside his bed the lights turn off, and there’s no sound besides the ship’s motor to distract him from the gentle inhales and exhales of your peaceful breathing. He licks his lips, settles into his typical sleeping position, sniffles briefly, fiddles with his hands, lifts a leg up to stretch his muscles, readjusts his neck on the pillow, clears his throat, wriggles his toes beneath the blankets, itches his nose, and comes to terms with the fact that he’s unable to sleep. Something’s not right, and he thinks little before he turns to his opposite side to see if sleep will meet him there.

It doesn’t, but your face does.

His neck stiffens and he nearly rears his head back when his nose brushes against your own, your warm breath fanning over his face. He snaps his eyes shut and breathes deeply himself, lashes fluttering when he deems himself brave enough to open his eyes again.

You’re there, looking like sleep was made for you the way it lulls your face into peace and erases the wrinkles Jake puts around your nose and mouth. There’s no longer the prominent frown lines that you’re always sporting around him, and your lips are blessedly relaxed, almost pouting with the way your cheek is squished into the pillow instead of disapprovingly downturned in his direction.

The silence suffocates him, rushing into Jake’s ears and clogging them until tv static fills his brain. The only words he can form, the only thing he’s capable of doing is murmuring a gentle, “Goodnight, Y/N,” In a voice far softer than he’s ever aimed towards you before.

Then he turns, rolling back onto a shoulder that aches from carrying your phantom weight, and shuts his eyes for the night.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt1: Coming Down With Me

Ellie Williams x reader

I once met a girl with skin like kiwi. Even the butterflies were drawn to her, landing on the top of her nose, the dip in her palm. But the kiwi stung my tongue, scarred my lips and made me bleed. I do not care. Cover me in your kiwi kisses, burn my mouth and scar my flesh. Bleach my eyes and dip my heart in lemon juice. Sing your sickly sweet words until my ears bleed.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood best friends until you grew up. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / people are mean lol / best friends to enemies to lovers / roommate! Ellie

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I know everything about you,

You know everything about me.

I had always been bound to the earth while Ellie danced with the stars in the night sky among delusion and dreams. Though, more so than anything, we were bound to one another.

Our parents were friends, even before we were born. They met at summer camp when they were teenagers, the same camp that Ellie and I were eventually shipped off to every summer. Of course, I have no recollection of when I was an infant, only stories that my parents shared with me; My dad told me that I learned to crawl backwards before I learned to crawl forwards. Joel kept a photo album of his girl.

I can't remember days of crawling around and babbling incoherently, but I can tell you what I remember.

Five years old- Kindergarten

Despite the air being unbearable hot, it was infused with excitement as Ellie and me set foot in the petting zoo. I had never seen so many animals in one place, my little brain was going nuts. Accompanied by the gentle hum of content animals, the aroma of straw, and the distant melody of joyful chatter, the petting zoo rang true to its rustic charm.

Ellie, with her auburn curls bouncing in the breeze, led the way, her eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy alpaca lazily grazing in the sunshine. I giggled as we approached a pen filled with adorable piglets, their tiny snouts sniffing the pure air far away from the dirty stench of the city.

Our parents, watching with affectionate smiles, guided us to the lamb enclosure where soft, woolly creatures nuzzled against tiny palms. Ellie's fingers gently traced the contours of a lamb's ear, and she couldn't resist a delighted squeal as she felt the velvety nose of a goat.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the scene, the families strolled through the meandering paths, passing by a pond where ducks quacked merrily. Ellie and I, hand in loveable hand, marvelled at the wonders of the animal kingdom, our hearts brimming with the pure joy of discovery and a blooming friendship.

Seven years old- Grade Two

On this particular day, Ellie and I had been messing around in her backyard; that's all we did on the weekends at that age, you couldn't get us to go inside. We spent the morning entwined in daffodils and hyacinth that Joel has so tenderly nurtured, careful not to crush the dainty flowers beneath our wild flailing bodies. 

We had the brilliant idea to paint rocks so we had been searching her yard for the perfect flat stones we had in mind. Ellie picked up a rock and immediately threw it back down, jumping away with a shriek.

This had piqued my curiosity (As well as Joels who sat on the back porch, watching us), I went over to where she stood petrified and found nothing more than a little snake staring up at her. I dropped the stones I had been carrying and bent over to get a better look at it, it was brown and had a few white vertical stripes cascading up its thin body. 

I slowly moved my hand outwards to touch but was swiftly interrupted by Joel scooping me up "That's enough of that kiddo." 

Nine years old- Grade Four

Joel's house garnered an expansive backyard and just past the old fence that Ellie and I had thrown one too many softballs at was a lush forest. I would always clamour up the wood fence and poke my little head over it to try and gather a glimpse of wildlife, Ellie usually had to give me a little boost. "Hold still!" She hissed with her arms wrapped around my torso to help lift me, my scrawny arms shook as I tried to pull myself up even further.

The wood rot of the ancient fence finally set in and with the both of us pressing our mighty weight against it collapsed with the fence. We heard the splitting of wood, I got the worst end of the stick, toppling over and putting my hands out to protect myself. I could've sworn that I heard my wrist break like a crunch.

While I did what felt like a three-sixty frontflip over the fence just for my small head to come down on the end of it with a solid smack, Ellie had just flopped on top of it, green eyes widening in shock when she saw my once straight arm now had an abnormal bump coming out from my wrist. "What's wrong with your hand?"

"I don't know I'm probably dying!" I screamed as loud as my voice could carry, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline run through my veins. "You killed me!"

"No, I didn't!" She retorted, scrambling off the fence and back up to her feet. She was clad in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that she practically was swimming in and those pink and orange plaid Bermuda shorts that any kid in the 2000s owned. "Dad!" Ellie yelled, calling for Joel.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and finally, I released the sob that had been building up in my throat. She was almost dumbstruck and just ended up kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She muttered.

10 years old- Grade Five

Ellie had been practicing guitar the entire time I was at her house, Joel had gifted her his old guitar and she was so set on perfecting every cord, every half-hour she would ask for a song recommendation and then flip through the songbook she got to find it.

I was curled up in her bed reading The Hunger Games over again "Els, are you team Peeta or Gale?" I was always at Ellie's house, mine was too busy all the time; I had three siblings, Naomi and Aaron who were twins and two years younger than me and my brother Elijah who was three years older than me. I loved going to her house on Saturdays so I could sleep in and wriggle my way out of going to church. Even though her house was right across the street from mine and my parents would bang on Joel's door, he always covered for me.

"Uh," She was distracted by something in her songbook "Team Katniss?"

I nod in approval to myself as she isn't paying attention "You know who Gale reminds me of?" I ask and without Ellie giving me a response I answer anyway "Luke, I think I kind of like him."

Those are the words that get her to look at me "Ew, he's so weird."

"He's nice to me."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste then shrugs, returning to her guitar which sits awardly in her scrawny frame.

12 years old- Grade Seven

"Fuck!" I yell, kicking the grimy green dumpster in the graffiti-covered ally out of anger, though I kicked it a little too hard now my foot hurts I refuse to admit it "Fuck I hate them!"

Ellie leans against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, our bikes discarded on the ground while I hopelessly rant to my friend about my parents. She doesn't say much, just little nods of agreement. My parents had caught me skipping church and they laid into me, saying that I had no respect for them or god and whether that was true or not didn't matter, I was full of pre-teen angst and needed to call my friend to go for a bike ride around town.

"She fucking tore my room apart, I never see them get mad at Aaron or Naomi!" I drag my hands down my face before I look back at the dumpster and kick it again "Ow, cunt!" I'm now hopping on one foot while my knee bends my other leg and I hold my beaten red Converse, covered in doodles, to soothe the pain of my poor toes. It's moments like this that remind me why I love Ellie, because as stupid as I look hobbling around and cussing, she doesn't laugh at me even though I know she wants to.

After a little bit of me aimlessly yelling I finally wind down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember those breathing exercises that we were taught at school assemblies. "Thanks for listening to me talk shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She shrugs "I've seen you do worse."

This cracks a smile on my face, I turn my head and am met with the Jackson skyline, a beautiful pink sunset on the horizon "Sun's setting," I say.

"Sleepover?" Ellie asks.

"Sleepover," I confirm.

13 years old- Grade Eight

We were thirteen when our parents shoved cash into our hands and dropped us at the mall to go back to school shopping by ourselves for the first time. Every parent's nightmare was a busy mall so when they figured us old enough to venture into the dreaded foodcourt on our own, believed they were taking that opportunity. 

Ellie had bought a couple of T-shirts and hoodies here and there, not too particular about what she was buying, though I was very nit-picky over what I wore so I forced Ellie to judge every single outfit that I wore and rate it, she gave the same answer every single time "It looks fine."

"Cool but I don't wanna look fine, I wanna look pretty," I say in frustration, walking back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Ellie is sitting in the fitting room on a pink velvet couch, arms crossed and waiting for me to finish. "How's this?" I ask, walking out of the changing stall and giving her a little twirl.

"It looks fine- I mean good, everything looks good on you." She sounds almost exasperated. Ellie's hair was still that vibrant auburn colour that my mother was obsessed with, it had yet to fade out into a duller brown with age.

"Really?" I perk up just the slightest.

"Yeah, you look really pretty." She gives me a little nod of confirmation. I know that she's only saying that because she wants to go to the food court and get a cinnamon bun but I believe her anyway.

14 years old- Grade Nine

We were just nearing the end of the second half of our soccer game. It was the tournament and we were only a point away from placing first in the league, the thought of it had kept me up all week I was running off of Subway sandwiches and Gatorade. 

Riley (the midfielder) swiftly passed the ball to me before she was surrounded by the other team's defence, I looked up to the clock and there were only seconds left in the match. I let my instincts take over, my parents forcing me into soccer since elementary school was not going to wind up useless. My footwork took me up the right wing just before the penalty box. 

I wasn't paying enough attention to notice the tall blonde girl in a slick back ponytail closing in on me. I hear Ellie shout my name and that's all I need to make this last pass, I barely even looked up before power-driving the ball to Ellie who was merely six metres away from me. I slipped onto the muddied field with that kick, watching Ellie waste no time to score our final goal the second her cleat touched the ball. 

The clock deadlocks and I drag myself off the ground running towards my best friend, I jump on her almost taking her down with me though she manages to steady herself. "I fucking love you!" I scream hugging her with all of the force I can muster. She hugs me in return, unable to get any words out between her laughs. The team is quick to swarm us, everyone is shouting about our well-deserved victory but not one person is louder than Joel in the stands.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Snow was falling as I stood in the foyer of the high school, still waiting for my date for the winter formal to arrive. Conner had asked me out weeks ago, we hadn't talked much since though I just figured that was because he was shy. I even left school early to get ready and spent hours meticulously pinning every hair into place and adjusting my navy blue satin dress so it would drape across my body in just the right way.

My sister, Naomi was an aspiring makeup artist so I let her dust my eyelids in silver glitter, I forced Warren to drive me. All of that was just for me to get stood up. Conner hadn't texted me all day, I knew he wasn't coming that didn't stop me from forcing denial on myself. "Hey," I heard a soft voice sound behind me, I wasn't surprised to see Ellie. Even though our parents were no longer friends, we were close as ever.

"Hi," My voice was hushed and feeble.

"The dance started an hour ago," She said, that night she had been wearing a white button-up with a pair of jeans and her hair half up. It was clear the dance wasn't as big a deal to her as it was to me. All she had done was ask Riley to go with her and call it a day. Despite her lack of effort, she looks beautiful as ever "I don't think he's coming," She said bluntly.

That's the exact moment I felt myself crack, tears welled up in my eyes and I lurched forward to hug her, flailing my arms helplessly to search for comfort "Then why did he ask me to go with him?" My sobs were drowned out by the sound of Kesha blasting in the overcrowded gym.

"I don't know, but he's an idiot for standing you up," Ellie holds me close and I never want her to let go "I wouldn't have ever done that to you."

16 years old- Grade Eleven

This is where things begin to fall apart. I found Ellie on the back porch of some random guy's house at a party. "I figured I would find you out here," I say, taking a seat next to her on the wooden steps, I hug my knees close to my chest.

"What's up?" Beside me, Ellie is unnervingly calm, she nurses a joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke turn to clouds. 

"Conner kissed me," I say cutting to the chase

I can tell she doesn't like the thought, she hated Conner, ever since he stood me up at the winter formal but she bites her tongue "You guys gonna date?"

"I think so."

"Good for you."

"I don't know if I liked it," My eyebrows are furrowed, and I pull my knees in even further, inhaling the crisp autumn air and the smell of Ellie, she smells like cannabis, firewood and bar soap. 

"What do you mean?" Ellie puts out the end of her joint and tucks what remains of it into an empty Altoids container.

"Nothing," I dismiss it, "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you," Ellie had softened every burden for me since we were girls. "Um, so, my parents are sending me to boarding school next year."

"No, they're not-

"They are."

Ellie doesn't seem so calm anymore, she adjusts her body to face mine and she's so close I swear to god I could've counted every freckle on her face. "Why, what did you do?" The way she looks at me makes me wish that she was a boy.

"Nothing!" I retort "They think I'm straying from god, it's a Christian school." That was my code for 'they think I have a crush on you and I rather not get disowned by my super religious parents!'

"come stay with me and Joel-

"Ellie, please," I place a hand on her thigh "I don't think I can get away from this one."

That was at the end of September, it only got worse from there. I partially wished that I didn't tell Ellie that I had to leave, every time we hung out it just felt like words were hanging between us like birds on a wire and neither of us could say what we wanted. I forced myself to distance myself from her, I didn't know how else to handle my feelings. 

She would blow up my phone and come by my house even visit my work but I just told her that I was busy. I could tell that she didn't believe my excuses for a second, she had English with my new boyfriend, Conner and would get him to relay messages and notes to me.

It didn't get easier to ignore her, my family prying about where she had been. I never told my parents that Ellie was gay, though I know they had always had a suspicion and that's why they could never love her all the way completely, the way Joel loved me and looked out for me. My mom and dad liked that I swapped out Ellie for Conner, by February, my dad even started to call him son. 

In March Ellie and I had stopped talking completely, she gave up on texting me and coming by my house just for my siblings to lie about my whereabouts. It hurt to see the resentment gleam in her eye every time she passed me in the hallway. 

She didn't speak a word to me until the start of the summer bonfire which was custom in our town. If I had known she would be there I never even would have thought about going. I rather not rehash this awful night, not right now just know that it ended with some alcohol, a bit of blood in the sand and me telling Ellie 'I would pick him over you every single time.' Yikes, that's not a good look for me. I spent the rest of my summer burying her in the back of my mind until boarding school finally came upon me and I graduated with friends I didn't like in a place that didn't feel like home. 

I was sixteen then now I'm nineteen, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Those were some key moments of our friendship. I'm not so sure why I felt so mature at the age of sixteen. I had taken a gap year and loved every minute of it, I backpacked in Australia, worked as a camp counsellor in the summer then left to work at a turtle conservatory in Bali, I was making pennies but the experience was worth it. 

I arrived at my new home sunkissed with Ellie far in the back of my mind. I didn't know much about who I would be rooming with, I had only spoken to Dina over a Zoom call who was a friendly girl with warm eyes and ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. I just prayed that none of them were Craigslist killers.

It took me entirely too long to find parking, when I finally did, I grabbed two of my suitcases, unable to hold anything else, the rest of the boxes jammed into my car would have to wait. I read over the text that Dina sent me what seemed to be a million times to make sure I had the right address. It was a small-ish one-story flat with brown walls that had white accents along corners and the doorway with a wood-panelled gable roof. As far as college housing went, I was happy. It looked like something I would've made in the Sims when I was a teenager. 

I walk to the front door, the entrance is framed by intricately carved moulding, its details telling a story of craftsmanship and tradition. The wood, polished to a warm, inviting glow, exudes a sense of richness and history. I knocked on the door and heard a voice shouting that she would get it.

The door swings open and I'm met face to face with Dina "Hey!" She smiled "It's nice to meet you, I think you'll like it here," She held the door wide open, motioning for me to go in, and I obliged. "Let me give you a tour." Dina is clad in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt and her hair has been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The layout of the house seemed somewhat odd to me, there was a corridor straight ahead when you walked in, the first room was the laundry room and contained the washer and dryer with some hampers and shelves of detergent and laundry freshener. "This is the laundry room, we have a wash schedule along with a chore schedule so we will put you on that tonight," Dina told me, I just nodded politely in response feeling a little too awkward and out of place to say anything. 

"Alright so this is the kitchen, there's a half bathroom beside it," She says, swinging her arms wide open for exaggeration I can see the chore chart hanging on the walls, it's written in chalk, and it is the laundry schedule. There are little laminated tags with each person's name on them, though I can't quite make out the names from where I am standing. The fridge is covered in postcards, magazine cutouts, polaroids, and bright magnets of papayas and flowers, I automatically assumed this was Dina despite not knowing the other roommates. The kitchen is open with no walls to hide it, the oven and dishwasher are built into counters against the walls as well as the sink which i spotless at the moment, there isn't a dining table but a kitchen island with stools. Past the island you can see the living room, there are two grey couches with decorative pillows and fuzzy throw blankets, a coffee table that looked handcrafted with care and of course a TV. 

Have I mentioned there are plants everywhere? Like everywhere. "Okay, so," Dina keeps on moving and I trail behind with my suitcases, over there is my room and Cat's and Abby's," She points to the left of the living room where there is a short hallway with three doors, one on each wall of it. "There's Cat now," She waves at her roommate.

Cat is relatively tall, she has black hair that's tied into a bun, and she's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a black tank top, I can see her abundance of tattoos. She has one sleeve of laurel cascading up her arm and the other is patchwork done right, each separate piece blends almost seamlessly into the next. "I like your tattoos," I say, not wanting to sit in any more silence.

She grins at me "Thanks, love," I nod in response to her, Cat looks down at the suitcases that I'm lugging around "Dina, take this poor girl to her room already."

"I was just getting there," Dina teases and motions for me to follow her "So over here is the bathroom and of course your room, I left your copy of the house key on your mattress," She opens it up. The bedroom is completely blank aside from the boxed bedframe, shelf, vanity and mattress that I had to send over prior. There's a built-in closet in the wall. 

I put my suitcases on the ground "I'm gonna grab the rest of my stuff from my car," I offer up a tight-lipped smile.

"Wait a second," She takes my hand and then knocks on the bedroom door parallel to mine. "I'm coming in!" Dina announces pushing the door open, there's a brunette girl hunched over her desk. My breath hitches in my throat when she turns around "This is Ellie."

I can see the panic that momentarily takes over Ellie when she spots me before it's replaced by a false coolness, "Hey," She says before turning back to her laptop and putting her headphones back on. It felt like my heart had shut down, why the fuck did I sign the lease?

"Sorry," Dina shuts Ellie's door "She's not the friendliest of the bunch but she'll warm up to you eventually," Dina walks to the front door with you Abby should be around here somewhere."

I had gotten so frustrated trying to set up my bed frame that I sheepishly left my room and asked for help, god bless Abby. She was putting everything together so easily, I watched her in awe as she finished adding the final screw to my bedframe. "Want help setting up the mattress?"

"Yes, please," I say, I grab one end of the mattress while Abby gets the other, she tells me to lift on three and I listen, she carries the majority of the weight but it still feels like an accomplishment on my part. "So does everyone here go to Northridge?"

"Yeah, except for Cat, she's a tattoo apprentice."

"Cool, cool," I search for words, "What are you majoring in?"

"Kinesiology," It makes sense, I could've called that by looking at the fit gym rat who was now sitting on my bed. "You?"

"Wildlife biology,"

"So you like animals and conservation and stuff?"

"Mhm," I nod "It's honestly kind of hard to not have any animals in my life." I was missing all my pets back home, when I wasn't with them I was working at a conservatory or at a summer camp where I took care of all of the horses, and Ellie's dog, Achilles.

"You'll get used to it, living with Dina is the same thing as living with an animal," She smiles and for the first time, I feel comfortable. Abby watching me with her blue eyes as I begin to unpack my abundance of boxes, I kind of just dump everything onto the ground because I can't remember which box has what, the first thing I search for are my coat hangers. I dump out a box with a bible, wall cross, and rosery and golden cross necklace from a box of random knickknacks. "You religious?"

"Kind of?" I question it myself "Not really, it's just my family, I packed that stuff to make my mom happy."

Abby nods "I get it."

"You do?"

She backtracks "No, but I can try to."

I shake my head, "I wouldn't try if I were you, I spent nineteen years trying to get away from it." I was sure other Christian homes were healthy but mine wasn't one of them, the way my parents obsessed over Jesus was honestly frightening.

"Hey, do you wanna come watch a movie when your done unpacking?" Abby asked, "Get to know your new roommates a little better."

I don't entirely want to, I wasn't ready to talk to Ellie. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that I was living with her and that she was pretending she didn't know me, despite this, my words betrayed me "For sure."

I sat on one of the couches beside Abby, I made myself as small as I could, thinking that maybe I could make myself disappear. Cat and Ellie crammed themselves on the other while Dina took the plush armchair. I felt so out of place everyone here had relationships, I had one with Ellie before I severed it 'Grown Ups' was playing on the flatscreen though it seemed I was the only one paying attention.

The four girls all laughed and talked their way through the movie, Abby, Cat, and Dina would ask me a question here and there but I didn't know them well enough to pitch in. I kept telling myself that I needed to push through, if Spiderman could do it, so could I.

I didn't even finish the movie, halfway through I excused myself saying I was tired which wasn't necessarily a lie. It was difficult to fathom how well Ellie was playing it off, acting like she never met me. I walk into the bathroom, clean towel in hand, ready to scrub off the stress of today. Beside the mirror, I see a cardstock poster decorated with bright markers and doodles.

HOUSE RULES

#1 No underwear left in the bathroom

#2 Wash your dishes

#3 Break it? Tell Abby

#4 No smoking inside

#5 Privates are private!

#6 Pls don't drink and drive (We have a couch)

#7 Give your beloved roommates a heads up before having someone over

#8 This is a residence of women so the seat goes down!!!

#9 Respect the bedrooms

#10 Having sex? Keep it quiet

#11 NO DRAMA!!!!!!!!

#12 Follow chore and wash chart

#13 Don't eat what's not yours! (Without asking)

I finish reading the last bit and mutter to myself  "Wasn't planning on it." I run the water so hot that it feels cold and I'm quick to not use all of the hot water and have my roommates hate me on my first night here. Everyone has their little drawers in the bathroom, mine is empty aside from some floss and cotton pads that the girl before me left behind. I make a mental note to make use of my bathroom drawer tomorrow and fill it with makeup remover or conditioner, or something like that.

Brushing my teeth and wrapping myself in a strawberry towel that I had purchased at a craft fair, I open the bathroom door, I can see the light of the TV and the sound of chatter from the living room. However, I ignore it and make a B-line to my bedroom. Even though I had spent hours unpacking and pinning up posters it still didn't seem homey.

I slip into shorts and a t-shirt, leaving my hair as is and throw myself onto my bed. My towel is discarded onto my bathroom floor. When I turn on my phone I am bombarded my messages from my parents, my mother has probably sent me twelve Google pins to the closest churches, I answer her with a thumb-up emoji and settle into my bed to scroll through social media and see how much fun all of my friends are having. 

Fucking Ellie. She's plaguing my thoughts, I think of what I said to her and it makes me cringe, I want to smother myself with my satin pillow. I don't even have food to eat, grocery shopping wasn't something that I put on my priority list and right about now I was but Ellie, god, why was I such a dick? Because I didn't know what else to do- whatever, I was a scared teenager. What would you have done? Probably kiss her you lesbo.

Lord, it makes me sick to think about what could've been.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Ellie and I were sitting at a fire pit at her uncle Tommy's lake house. It was a Fourth of July party except we were the only teenagers there; everyone else was friends of Tommy and Maria or some distant relatives of Ellie's or children of said people.

After five years of practicing day and night, Ellie had just about mastered the acoustic guitar, she played and I sang, wrapped up in her flannel, I was tucked close next to her. 

She struck every cord perfectly and I began to sing absentmindedly, the song that had been carved into my brain. Ellie looked so insanely beautiful illuminated only by fire and the stars that hung in the sky, if it hadn't been a sin I would've kissed her.

Talking to her felt as holy as praying to god but I knew it was as sinful as worshipping the devil. 

If it was so wrong why was I born in God's image?

Her gentle hand strummed on the chords of the guitar, the same calloused hand that had once turned water into wine. Her laughter was the sound of a church choir 

I wish I told her how much I liked her but what would've happened if I did? What would my parents think, they would kill me. 

Part of me didn't care how my parents would react, if I spoke up, I could say goodbye to my inheritance and having college paid for. Maybe that was an unfair assumption to make on my part. Ugh. FUCK, I don't know, let's get to the next part of the story.

I couldn't sleep that night, I thought maybe a glass of water would soothe me, well I didn't really think that but I was hungry and thirsty and water was the only thing in that house I had the right to ingest. I figured that I could fill myself with water and zip to Denny's in the morning then grab some groceries.

Poking my head out of my door, I checked to see if anyone was still awake before gingerly taking hushed steps towards the kitchen, I was trying to be as light as Thumbelina. I hadn't noticed Ellie bumming on the couch, scrolling through her phone. 

"You cooking all of that non-existent food you brought?" She jeered. Oh, now she wanted to talk to me.

"I was gonna have some warm water soup for dinner and chew on pistachio shells from the cup holder in my car for dessert," I answer "I'm treating myself tonight." She didn't think it was funny at all, a few years ago she would've been cackling at my subpar joke, but now she just seemed unamused. "Sheesh, tough crowd."

She stays silent.

"You used to think I was funny," I say.

"I also used to think the tooth fairy was real."

"Harsh," I mutter. Turning the tap on and sticking a finger underneath it to test the temperature. I put my hummingbird mug underneath it and let it fill. "Hey, Ellie," She doesn't answer "Have you told them any bad things about me?"

She nearly scoffs "No, believe it or not, I don't talk about you, I don't even think about you," There's venom in her voice "You haven't crossed my mind since you walked through that door."

"Why are you pretending you don't know me-

"Because I don't fucking like you," She says it like it's so obvious and it honestly is in this moment "Just because you're pretty and you act like a sweet little Christain girl, that doesn't mean shit."

"I'm not trying to act like anything-

"Yeah, well it seems pretty insincere to me," Ellie seethed and I could feel a sting in my heart, I would do some pretty horrendous things for a time machine right about now.  I can tell that there won't be any salvaging for this, she hates me to death and rightfully so. 

This is where I give up "Okay, sorry," I grab my hummingbird mug and retreat to my room.

I endured four months of that.

Ellie was pushed to the back of my mind while I ran through classes and got a job as a waitress at a stake house. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy, to keep her out of my head but she was always there, she hung around like a song I can't shake, like I'm haunted by the melody. 

Some nights when the city decides to quiet down I can hear her play guitar, and I'll quietly hum along to it. Songs she used to sing for me, she now sings for another woman, another soul. I knew that she had girls over, but I never got to meet them as Ellie did everything in her power to pretend I didn't exist.

The only communication I got with her was in the roommate's group chat, and it was always brief.

Ellie: Having a friend over tomorrow night

D-manz: Friend? With benefits??????????

Kit-Cat: Nah they're hardly even friends, just benefits

Abs: Don't get her pregnant

Me: 👍

As long as I was with the girls, Ellie was not. She avoided me like the plague, it was like she despised my existence. If we go clubbing, she takes a separate taxi, petty if you ask me. The girls knew something happened between us but they couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was Dina's conspiracy that Ellie used to date one of my friends and broke her heart. While I bonded with Cat, Dina, and Abby, Ellie would pretend to like me. She would occasionally laugh at my jokes or ask how my shift was when Dina was in the room. 

Trust me when I say I would rather forget than dwell on it but it was impossible. I know that I'm nothing more than an obstacle to her, a stain on her bedsheets, a sore in her mouth, but she was still my diamond in the rough. I will willingly ignore all of her cutthroat words and her jagged edges. 

Because I know everything about us.

[koisuko]

Hear me out, but how about a shy female reader who has been chosen as one of earthrealm's champions but Bihan doesn't see it due to her being short and shy, he makes a comment about it but is shocked when the reader gave a smartass response to his comment which peaks Bihan's curiosity about the reader?

Tw: none, shy reader, fem reader, no use of y/n

You lived a fairly reclusive life, hidden away in a densely forested area surrounded by high mountains. There were very few homes nearby with the nearest neighbor being 100 kilometers away. Just how you liked it, away from strangers in your cozy cabin. It was a paradise, a shy persons dream.

You sat on your brown sofa, the cushions so pillowy it nearly swallowed your petite frame. Beside you, your sole company in the isolation you live in, a small black cat. Soft purrs accompanied the crackle of the flames before you, your toes wiggling near the fireplace for warmth. A sigh left your lips, at the relaxation taking a hold. All the chores were done, you finished your reading, and you had gotten off your online job just an hour ago. You had nothing to do but relax. A hand stroked the silky black fur of your cat, the purrs a gentle lullaby. Your eyelids grew heavy, barely having the strength to fight the impending nap. Not that you wanted to, naps were your favorite thing after all.

One..two..three knocks on your front door jostled you from your drowsy state. A spike in anxiety hit, fear of who or what could be here. You never really had visitors, or many friends outside of your cat and family. There is no one you know to be visiting anytime soon, so who is it? Slowly, you approached the front door, a nervous expression on your face despite your best efforts to seem confident. Armed with nothing but your fists, you stood just inches from the wooden barrier. You knew how to fight, if it was necessary. A woman in the middle of no where needs her protection! You’d be damned if you unhooked the chain lock at the top of the door. You mustered up the courage to place a cautious hand on the door knob. Was it hot in here? You could feel the sweat begin to bead at the ridge of your brow. A sigh left your lips as the door slowly creaked open. On the other side we’re not one, but three large burly men. This is your end, isn’t it? “U-uh h-hello?” You squeaked out, earning a scoff from a man wearing blue. His face seemed molded into a permanent scowl, and his scrutinizing gaze locked on to what little of you peaked from behind the door. The first to speak, was a man with bright white eyes. “Greetings, I am Lord Liu Kang, God of fire, Protector of Earthrealm,” his voice was oddly calming, but not enough to block out the body guards beside him, “May we enter?” Enter? As if! His title seemed like something straight out of one of your novels. “M-may I ask what business you have here?” You cleared your throat, anything to rid the lump making it hard to speak. “N-no offense but..I think you have the wrong house.” Liu Kang’s bright orbs creased at the corners in a smile, “I assure you we are at the correct residents.”

Shit, you thought. A thick clump of saliva made its way down your throat, causing you to nearly choke on it. “We can talk outside, if you wish,” he added. Something about this man was…strange yet peaceful. What choice did you have? You puffed out your chest and unhooked the chain keeping these intruders outside. All within a split second, you swung the door open and readied yourself for a fight with a defensive position. Unfortunately, a pathetic squeak left your lips as soon as the door smacked the wall. The two men behind Liu Kang chuckled, one with a more lighthearted giggle, and the other a demeaning one. Liu Kang smiled once again, bowing his head respectfully. You straightened up with an awkward gulp so loud the birds outside could hear it, “I uh..sorry.” He shook his head, “it is understandable, your bravery is admirable.” That soothed your nerves just a bit, until, the man in blue spoke for the first time. “This is the chosen champion?” His lip curled into one of distaste as he eyed you down, “pathetic.” It was one thing to hate everything around you, but to insult you before seeing your skills was a whole new level. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, popping a hip out with a snarl, “you look like a mere boy with sticks for arms compared to the men I’ve fought!” He didn’t say a word, instead, he scoffed and averted his gaze elsewhere. Although, despite his initial burning expression, his eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly when looking at you. It was barely noticeable, but a spark flickered just behind that ice cold exterior.

[daechwitatamic]

The Price || MYG

banner by @/itaeewon

The Price

Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending WC: 8k

Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!

//

Mirror, mirror - look and see. Who might take this throne from me? Mirror, mirror - who's the threat? Show me which boy's blood to let.

There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.

You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies. 

Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods. 

The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.

It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.

But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.

A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat. 

The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others. 

You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on. 

As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.

“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”

The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for. 

Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting. 

When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has. 

“A good week,” she observes. 

“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”

“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers. 

“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home? 

The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket. 

“You have need of nothing?” she asks. 

This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.

“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”

The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home. 

“I’ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”

When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued. 

The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling. 

You were investments, you and your brother.

In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name. 

And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.

It was an easy deal to agree to. 

“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”

You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King. 

She smiles at this, thinly.  “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”

You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.

–

You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy. 

After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal. 

You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer. 

There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling. 

That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”

“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”

At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours. 

“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”

He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case. 

He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.

You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”

“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck. 

“It’s not extra,” he mutters. 

“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence. 

“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes. 

You know that look. You are ignoring that look. 

“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”

His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”

The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”

“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”

“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.

He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”

“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!” 

His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.

Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.

You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home. 

Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly. 

He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.

There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel. 

Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life. 

You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable. 

The seasons turned. The hurts faded. 

And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.

You began to learn things about him, then - after. 

In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.

Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.

You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy. 

You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.

And that was where it had to stop.

Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time. 

When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be. 

There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker. 

Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.

“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”

You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more. 

You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.

You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.

The royal physician’s face says it all. 

The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it. 

“How long?” she asks, the words clipped. 

The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”

She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand. 

No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her. 

After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm. 

Not like him.

He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her. 

“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks. 

She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary. 

“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers. 

It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.

“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”

Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing. 

“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”

He will say nothing else.

The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.

The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.

The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.

The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.

The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it. 

“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary. 

The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone. 

Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.

The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers. 

Unless.

The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know. 

She raises her chin and chants, 

“Mirror, mirror, look and see…

Who could take this throne from me?

Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?

Show me which boy’s blood to let.”

The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides. 

The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter. 

The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face. 

The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.

Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.

The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it. 

You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement? 

You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?

It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.

You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.

“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience? 

It can’t be good. You’re sure of it. 

You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center. 

She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best. 

“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel? 

She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”

You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”

And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is. 

The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.

“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”

You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.

The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands. 

But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat? 

Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?

Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years. 

And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?

None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”

You know it. She knows it.

“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.

She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy. 

She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -

“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.

“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?

Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”

You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.

Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.

Not when you follow orders.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed. 

There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.

–

There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you. 

Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.

The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply. 

You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.

You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.

You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest. 

You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch. 

If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.

His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.

You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door. 

You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.

You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest. 

Your forest. 

It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark. 

It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.

If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.

Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.

You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.

You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.

“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.

“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. 

It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.

“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.

You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago. 

You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.

You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away. 

But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone. 

“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows. 

Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away. 

The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss. 

He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you. 

He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.

You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer. 

You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair. 

Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck. 

He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”

The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.

“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.

All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.

“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry. 

You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.

But you know that’s a lie. 

You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.

You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.

Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough. 

You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper. 

He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.

He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade. 

He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip. 

“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.

Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.

You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.

You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.

This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.

You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.

Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.

The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.

You could probably reach it now.

Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.

His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.

“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.

All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.

You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.

Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.

For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.

You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.

The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.

“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”

You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.

He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.

You feel no absolution for it.

Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.

You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.

“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.

He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.

“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”

You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.

He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.

You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.

He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.

“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.

Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”

“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.

Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.

“Y/N, I -”

You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.

“Fucking go!” you bark.

He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.

You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.

—

You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.

She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.

You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.

The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.

The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.

The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.

It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.

The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.

Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.

It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.

Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.

On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3

[acotarxreader]

Shadow and Flame pt.5

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, YN reopens a wound but no heavy description, tooth aching sweetness

A/N: Part 5! Ah! I absolutely quick fired (hehe) this one. I really enjoyed writing the series for you, it gave me back the joy of writing and hope you love this final part! I have plenty more down the pipeline and hope you'll join me for the journey. Let me know what you think of this part, hope it lives up to your expectations!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

**************************

“So it’s settled, we’re going”

“Az, it's not that simple, we can’t just enter the Autumn Court uninvited-”

“Beron came here uninvited!” Azriel snapped back at Rhysand as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the brewing headache away. Cassian watched his two friends pace up and down Lucien’s destroyed study, the Emissary had gone for alcohol, lots of alcohol. 

“If we want to get political-”

“Lets not-”

“If we want to get political, Beron was coming for a member of his court, as we have many times before-”

“-That's not good enough Rhys!” 

“I’m thinking here!” Rhysand shouted back at Azriels heightened tone.

“Why don’t we just send Lucien, invitation in hand and he brings her back-”

“-I will not trust him with her welfare again Cass. I am going to the Autumn Court at dawn, I am going to get my mate back and I am fucking getting what I deserve!” 

“You will go nowhere, I will not have you sacrificed for anyone” Azriel went to object to Rhysand as Lucien came in with jugs of whiskey, the colour still fighting to return to his face.

“Any progress?” Lucien questioned as he passed a jug to Cassian.

“No…actually Lucien I’m just going to get a glass for this” Azriel nodded before making a swift exit, leaving the jug on the desk next to his mate's life sentence. The room was still for a moment, the males left racking their brains before Cassain interrupted the silence with a very good question.

“Since when does Az need a glass to drink?” The three looked panicked amongst one another before darting out of the room, the Shadowsinger now well on his way to the Autumn Court, sending Rhysand shouting unrepeatable words. 

****************************

You sat at the vanity in the doorless room, staring in the mirror at the Fae you didn't recognise anymore. You ran a finger over the wound the guard had given you, promptly reopening it to bleed. If you were to walk up the aisle tomorrow you would do it with the Court knowing all is not well. It stitched itself back together almost instantly, you didn’t even have control of your cells anymore. You sat there blankly staring until the sun crept over the forest, the day you spent so long running from had arrived. 

Maids were winnowed in, all with bags of products to use on you. You sat stoically still as the maidens brushed your hair and applied layers of make-up, your father's doll. You moved like a seamstress model, standing as they pinned your dress around you, crimson and white silk flowed down you. The happiest day of your life was the day you wanted to die the most. You let it all happen around you, unable to bring any element of energy to fight to your soul. 

The wall opposite to the tall windows seemingly peeled away from itself, a door reappearing in the fine wallpaper. Your father in his finery entered, the staff immediately making themselves scarce. 

“Come YN, your future awaits” he stretched out his arm and the shell you had become took hold of him, gliding alongside him through the hallways. He stopped outside tall decadent doors, glaring at a nearby guard to open them. The room was like a hollowed-out church, an altar with no pews for guests, no semblance of a place where people would come to rejoice. Standing at the top of the narrow aisle where your funeral march would take place was a broad and brutish male, decked out in his Court’s colours. You walked up the passageway, your father's hand crushingly over yours.

“YN Vanserra, I am pleased to make your acquaintance” your father released you with almost a jolt towards your groom. Beron moved to stand between you both, the officiant of the event.

The General's hand reached before snatching yours with force and bringing his lips to your fingers, kissing them. You felt you were going to pass out, the air struggling to oxygenate your lungs, it was thick, thick like smoke. Thick like shadows. 

“YN!” you whipped around to find Azriel striding up the aisle, Truth Teller angled at your groom. You felt awash with emotions, you moved from your highest high at seeing him to the lowest of lows as you realised your father's lure had worked. 

“Az stop!” you shouted, your throat hoarse from last night. You glanced between Azriel, the General and your Father, the latter's face twisting into pure excitement. 

“Az-Az I don’t love you, leave, I’m marrying the General” you forced the lies out of your mouth like bile. Azriels face seemed hollow, lowering his blade back to his side at your last ditch effort to have Azriel escape. 

“Y-N you don’t mean that, you can’t mean that,” he said it so small it shattered your heart all over again, you forced your eyes off the Spymaster, glancing at your groom's shoes. The sound of your father clapping so sickly slow hauled your attention back to him.

“Oh YN, there’s my cruel daughter, shattering a male heart before I shatter his bones” his venomous laugh felt like blades on your skin. Azriel went to react, a tendril of fire stretching across the room to snatch Truth Teller from his hands, throwing it to the feet of the General. His wings splayed ready to fight for his life until the tendrils clawed him to the ground and rolled him in crushing pressure. Azriels face began to turn purple under the coercion as you moved to run to his side, the cold callus hands of the General snatching you back by the wrist.

“I am owed a bride!” He seethed at you, the sound of your wrist joint crushing in his hands. In one swift movement you swung for the ground, snatching Truth Teller and slicing through the bone of his hand. The General roared, his blood shooting outwards at the release of the pressure from the vessels, his feet went from beneath him in dizzying blood loss, collapsing to the floor. 

“Azriel!” you ran to him screaming as he writhed in pain.

“YN, you're ruining your pretty dress” a corkscrew of Beron’s flames leapt at you as he laughed maniacally, singeing your dress. 

You stood in front of Azriel, protecting him from your fathers advances, the room swelling with flames. Beron held the flames around Azriel, squeezing his fist, wrapping the flame tighter around the Shadowsinger, his other hand sending a dart of almost lava towards you. You raised your bracleted wrists, the heat hitting the rings of metal and water dead on. You almost screamed as the water within the casing began to sizzle and steam, it evaporating under the heat of your fathers raging flame. The shackles metal dripped to the floor, freeing you as you threw Truth Teller with precision to land right through your fathers shoulder, hanging his arm by a thread from the joints. Beron bellowed at the pain, the hand controlling the Azriels choking flame gravely injured, releasing the flame from around a scorched spymaster. 

You dove for him, his skin greying at the feeling of the release of insurmountable pain. You called for any scrap of power, grabbing Azriel by a scorched hand. You went to winnow through the small flame you could call to your side as Beron pulled Truth Teller from his arm, hurling it towards you. Truth-Teller sailed with its unshakable precision straight towards your back as you hunched to pull Azriel from the ground.

“YN!” Azriel groaned, using his debilitated strength to stretch his wing around you, for shielding as the blade pierced through a crucial spine of his wing, sticking through the otherside, showering you in Azriels blood. 

You screeched at the feeling of the warm thick blood before pulling Azriel into the flame with you. Your power was weakened after months of it being smothered as you tugged Azriel through the warmth of your own flame. You crashed out on the edge of Forest House’s borders, too weak to winnow the both of you a greater distance. 

“Az, I can’t- I can’t bring us further!” you cried, trying to support his weight, Forest House alarms blaring in the background.

“YN please, go, run, I don’t want to survive if it means I have to live in a world where you don’t love me” he winced out, arm around his abdomen trying to keep his burned skin together. The sound of mobilised guards shuddered the earth behind you both. 

“Azriel, stop, I do, I do love you, you’re-you’re- my mate!” you cried, falling to the ground under your weakened legs and Azriel’s withering body. You reached and kissed him, a silent agreement that you would rather die together than live without one another, the voices of Autumn Court guards growing in volume. 

“Are we interrupting something?” The both of you had your eyes shooting towards Cassian's voice, Lucien and Rhysand in tow. 

“Azriel, I swear to the Gods, you are so grounded when we get home!” 

“Bit of insensitive timing there Rhysand '' Lucien glanced towards Azriels almost dissolving right wing, blood flowing steadily from him as he greyed. Rhysand and Cassian pulled Azriel from the ground, winnowing him away as you went to Lucien to do the same. 

"I promise I'll never let any of them near you again YN, you can trust me"

"I do Luc"

*************

The group crash landed into the Town House, the smell of singed skin and blood filling the living room instantly. 

“Cassian, get Madja!” Rhysand ordered as they lowered Azriel to the sofa. You ran to his side again, copper eyes ablaze. You raised your hands to the bleeding wing, flames coming to your fingertips.

“I’m really sorry Az, this is going to hurt”

“What is Flam-FUCKING HELL” he roared as you pulled Truth Teller from his wing, sending more blood sprouting out like a faucet. Your hands went to cover the extensive puncture, your flames cauterising the wound, healing and stitching the wing back together. He fluttered it gently, its range of motion coming back. You then moved down his scorched body, the healing nature of your flame soothing his body back to health. Madja rushed in, bag of concoctions in hand, stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. 

“Cassian, we need to have a little discussion about the words, near death” she scolded him.

*************

Six months after your near wedding day you moved up through the garden, work bag in hand, humming to yourself. 

“Hello Flame” Azriel sat on the back patio of the Town House, you beaming at his smile. You sat beside him on the bench, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“I have a gift for you” you reached into your satchel as Azriel closed his eyes, hands out-stretched. 

“Open them” Azriels eye’s landed on the cremated cinnamon bun in his hands.

“Good with healing but bad with baking?” he laughed and you nudged him back. 

“Fine, don’t take the mate offering” you went to take it back as you chuckled, he pulled it back hastily, a smile as wide as his face. He took a bite of the cremated pastry. 

“At least you dont fuck like you cook” 

“Really Az that's the first thing you say to me after I accept the bond” the two of you laughed loudly to one another. Azriel went to take another polite bite, yelping and putting a hand to the side of his jaw. 

“God’s Flame, are there rocks in here-” he pulled the object that almost chipped his tooth from his mouth. A circle of gleaming obsidian shone in his hand.

“I fired it myself, it's made with fragments of Truth Teller that came from your wing that-that time. I hope you like it” Azriel couldn't find his words, eyes glued to the precious present. He wiped the pastry from it, instantly slipping it onto his ring finger where it would remain forevermore. His sweet eyes met yours before pulling a ring from his own jacket pocket. A crimson stone the colour of fire set on a shadow black band. Azriel took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger. 

“If you look into the stone, some of my shadows stay happily inside. They will always be with you Flame and so will I” he swept the hair from your face and planted a tender kiss to your lips. 

Symbols of the forever bond that lies between shadow and flame.

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

Stay tuned!

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 8

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

If things go according to plan, Eris and Y/N’s first official date could end in hot, steamy sex. Or, it could end in complete and utter chaos - because when do things ever go according to plan? Azriel almost has a good time, until he doesn’t. We also FINALLY meet Tamlin’s daughter.

Part 7 Part 7.5 Headcanon

Warnings: Alcohol, language, smutty content, assault with non-consensual kissing, breeding kink (kind of)

An evening breeze blew through Velaris sending a slight chill through the champagne golden silk dress I’d chosen for the evening. A caress of warmth rose up from the fingers I’d threaded through Eris’, heat continuing up my arm and throughout my body, counteracting the mild chill.

When he’d shown up to my door right on time, dressed in a deep forest green tailored suit with the top unbuttoned and a turtleneck that was - For one, so perfectly molded to his torso that I practically salivated as fantasies of licking his abs flashed through my mind. And two, conveniently matched my dress perfectly - I almost said “Fuck the date.” and jumped on him then and there.

He’d arrived carrying three things. A bouquet of hydrangeas for my mother, symbolizing gratitude for her grace with the current situation. Freesia bulbs for my little sister to add to her Sprite garden if she wished, a symbol of friendship. I realized the double meaning of it, to draw in sprites with wishes for friendship but also to symbolize their new budding friendship. My mother smiled softly as she realized it too.

For me, he’d brought a “Fire Poppy”, apparently native to his court. His hesitance to express the meaning of the flowers, told me enough. Fire. Passion. But the incredibly faint dust of pink on his freckled cheeks left me wondering if perhaps there was something more.

Father only appeared at the last moment to kiss my forehead and likely give a seething look toward Eris while doing so that warned, Just because I haven’t killed you yet doesn’t mean I won’t. Eris paid no mind.

And now here we were, walking through the streets of Velaris hand in hand. Eris’ focus remained intently upon me as I pointed out various shops that I would frequent. I pointed out one that I loved as a child and Azalea still adored. The window was decorated with paint splatters of primary colors that blended together into a rainbow mirroring the Sidra and inside floated hundreds of miniature fae lights imitating the skies of Night Court.

Eris paused as we stood before the shop. “Can we take a look inside?”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely perplexed by his interest in this shop of all the ones we’d wandered past.

“It’s a surprise.” He stated.

Because why would anything with Eris be anything but secretive?

Eris read my responding roll of the eyes for exactly what it was. “Surely you realize there is a difference between a surprise and a secret?”

I couldn’t help myself. “Many of your secrets have left me feeling quite surprised, Eris. Certainly you would realize that?”

He huffed a silent laugh leaving me on the street to go into the store. Set in my stubborn ways, I refused to let him win and stood outside waiting.

Eris was back by my side eight minutes later with a small canvas bag. I raised an eyebrow. “What’d you get?”

“Ah, if you wanted to know, you could have come in with me. Guess it’s my secret to keep.”

“Mother spare me. You are insufferable.” I muttered stepping ahead of him down the street. His long strides caught up with mine within a few steps.

He once again wound his fingers through mine. “You love it.”

And I hated that it was true.

“You’re not going to tell me what you got?”

“Just a gift for a friend.”

———————-

Eris had reserved a table at Sevenda’s where Sevenda herself eagerly greeted us. She ushered us to a private section of the restaurant, lit with candles and within earshot of a performing pianist. She’d kissed me on the cheek and given Eris a respectful bow of the head before bringing out a mouthwatering appetizer of some delectable cheese sauce she’d recently added to her menu.

The secluded setting of our table, incandescent glow flickering off the candles, and soft melody floating in from the piano, all flowed together into a very intimate setting. Strange that I had bared myself to this male so many times, and performed every sexual act imaginable with him, yet I’d never felt so exposed to him as I did in this very moment.

Eris checked his blazer, and gods… I only ever wanted to see him in fitted turtle necks or absolutely fucking nothing again. The male was delicious and his gaze…. He was greedily drinking me in as if he’d splay me out on the table itself and feast. There was no way he couldn’t smell the arousal pouring off of me. I sure as hell could smell his, and it was far more mouthwatering than any of the glorious spices wafting through the restaurant.

Before I could give in to my instincts, Eris’ low tone interrupted. “If you keep looking at me like that, Y/N, I’m not going to make it through this dinner.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

He audibly groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Just as our mutual eye fucking grew so intense that I genuinely wondered if Eris really was about take me then and there, our waiter approached with a bottle of the Inner Circle’s favorite wine. “Compliments of the High Lord.” Making eye contact with Eris, the male suddenly seemed to remember who he was in the presence of as he uncomfortably cleared his throat, “of the Night Court.”

Eris paid no mind and thanked the waiter. Surprise crossed the males face as Eris took the bottle from him and poured our glasses himself.

When the waiter took our orders and returned to the kitchen, Eris’ gaze returned to me. His eyes again roving over my body but lingering on my face. He smirked when he realized I was flushing under his intense eyes. “Are you nervous, little Shadowsinger?” He asked. His tone predatory.

I took the opportunity to send a shadow to caress the shell of his ear, effectively shutting him up.

“Now that we’re alone,” I ran my foot up the length of his leg, stopping the journey just short of where I so desperately wanted to feel him. “How long have you had an an apartment here and why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Ahh yes, excellent talk for a first date.” Eris mused, raising the wine glass to his plush lips and taking a long, slow sip before continuing. “Perhaps, I wanted a place to see you without you having to travel through multiple courts to find me.”

“Do you not wish for me to come to the Autumn Keep any longer?”

Eris’ change in tone took me by surprise as it became stern, the voice of a High Lord and not the bedroom voice of my lover. “Don’t you dare think that for a second. There’s nothing mo-“

He stopped himself mid-sentence shifting uncomfortably. “I enjoy your presence in my keep, in my bed, Y/N. But I also like to have the opportunity to visit you in your home court.”

My heartbeat quickened at the power flowing off of him, the desire in his amber eyes.

“So, Rhys was totally fine with you having a place here, just to hook up with his niece?”

“Diplomacy, darling. It is far easier to have a place here for times that negotiations and other meetings run over. It also benefits him to be able to have eyes on a fellow High Lord, no? It was not a difficult matter to convince him.

And I was going to tell you, you just happened to pick up the hobby of drunkenly wandering the streets before I had the opportunity.”

“I was fine.”

I was not fine. He knew it. I knew it. I was borderline feral that night.

“It wasn’t you I was concerned about. It was the poor citizens running the other way, screaming of a rabid, shadow-creature roaming Velaris in search of its next meal.”

I smiled. “For the second time this evening, Eris Vanserra, you are insufferable.”

“And again, little one, you love it.”

I rolled my eyes and took a swig of wine.

————————

Eris

She was fucking captivating. Eris drunk in every detail of Y/N like she was the wine flowing from her glass.

She had to know she looked like a goddess. Had he told her? She could read him like a well-adored book at this point. She read every look he gave her without him needing to speak a word. I want you. You’re perfect. I need you. You’re more perfect than I ever dared dream. I would kiss the earth you walked on if you only asked.

Shit, could she read that all on his face? Should he tell her how damned gorgeous she was or would she give him that all-too-enticing look of “Spare me the compliments, High Lord, you can strip and ravish me once we’re alone.”

And gods, he was going to. He had plans for his little Shadowsinger tonight, plans involving carefully undressing her and pressing kisses to her silken skin, replacing each bit of fabric slipping off of her body with a press of his lips. Instead of burning that lovely little number that was hugging her mouth-watering curves, he would proudly display it in the Autumn Court’s archives. He was a romantic, after all.

Of course, before putting it behind glass for safe keeping, he’d be binding those pretty little wrists behind her back with said dress. He was also a deviant.

As for his plans after that? They were far too filthy to fantasize about at the table.

“Your aroma is rather fragrant.” Her teasing voice broke him from his thoughts.

“And you’re rather intoxicating. We make quite the pair, love.”

And there it was - the little blush she always tried so hard to hide from him.

If just the term “love” brought that to her face, what lovely shades of pink would her cheeks light up with if he laid it all out right now? If he told her how she’d fucking ruined him for anyone else? That to taste her was to taste the nectar of the gods? That he was so hopelessly in love with her that there was no crawling out of this pit of desire, and he’d sooner drown in his need for her than ever swim up for air.

The urge to do just that frightened him. Why did he think this date was a good idea? As far as his self control went, it was a terrible idea. And as far as he cared at this point, it was the best idea. He was here, in front of her, and nothing else mattered.

————————————

Eris had always thought himself better than the primitive beasts fae turned into when it came to their mates. But he truly realized how wrong he was when after dinner, Y/N had requested to walk very slowly along the river until her stomach wasn’t, as she so elegantly stated it, “bursting at the seams.”

Given that after the wonderful meal they’d devoured, he too was struggling, he obliged her, draping his suit’s jacket as well as his arm over her shoulders. She pressed a hand to her very, very, slightly bloated abdomen, in an effort of easing the discomfort. Such a simple gesture that should have meant absolutely nothing but….

An inferno blazed within him at the thought of her glowing with a round belly, the mating bond’s most primal instinct roaring at him to winnow her away immediately and fill her so utterly full of him that there would be no questioning of whose she was. His.

He prayed to the mother or whomever would listen that the breeze would blow the sickeningly strong scent of his arousal far away.

————————

Y/N

The gallery was packed. Unsurprisingly, anyone and everyone wanted to come out to brush elbows with the Inner Circle and who could blame them? Unlike the other courts of Prythian, Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre actually interacted with their people. Well, the people of Velaris at least. Feyre was respected as High Lady but she was revered as an artist. Proceeds from her own work went directly back into the arts district.

“Beautiful.” Eris mused approaching a work of art toward the back wall but keeping his eyes on me. I sipped the champagne an attendant handed me upon arrival, needing it to get through the rest of this evening.

Especially needing it to get through the work of art he was approaching.

“This.” Eris motioned toward the piece, “is stunning.”

“It’s not for sale. Just a work from one of Feyre’s students.”

The art, featuring darkness floating upward from the bottom and a blaze falling from the top, intertwining with licks and whirls of flame and shadow in the middle.

“Cost is of no concern to me, little one. I need it.”

A sing-song voice came from behind us. “It’s magnificent isn’t it?” Feyre asked.

“What can I do to acquire such a fine piece of art?”

“You’ll have to ask the artist.” She nodded toward me.

“Aww, come on my lovely niece. Think of all the supplies it could fund.”

“You’re a busybody.”

She only gave an airy laugh before disconnecting the mental bond and returning to the attendees.

“Wouldn’t it look lovely displayed for all of my court to see?”

My gut lurched and I wasn’t sure if it was from imposter syndrome or excitement.

“Fine.” I’ll make a deal with you, Eris Vanserra. He raised an eyebrow. “This art is very personal to me. And despite the fact that it is hanging in the gallery, I want it to be for your eyes only. Do you agree to hang it in your chambers?”

Eris gave a faux pout. “And not show my lovely lady’s art for all the world to admire?”

My heart raced as I quipped too quickly, not allowing the time to change my mind. “Perhaps I only want to be yours to admire.”

Eris visibly gaped at the statement and my heart sank. Had I read all of his adoration wrong? Was I going to humiliate myself just as I had two years ago when he’d left me on the dance floor and I swore I’d never let him have that power over me again?

He swallowed a lump in his throat. His voice breaking slightly. “And your payment terms?”

“Oh you’ll be paying out the ass for it.”

He grinned. “As one does for the finest things in life. I’ll take it.”

A beat of silence.

“And I’ll take you too, if you’ll have me.”

And with that he leaned in to kiss me, soft and hard, fervently and slowly, wanting more yet only needing this.

A throat cleared behind us as father interrupted. He looked to me and to the art behind me.

“I never realized….” He spoke softly as he took in the work.

I flushed, the work now feeling far too intimate under his gaze.

My father turned to Eris. “You’re purchasing this?”

Eris nodded. “A worthy investment, yes?”

My father remained tense but something in his eyes softened. “A very worthy investment.”

Father leaned in to kiss my forehead. “Enjoy your night sweetheart.”

It was at that moment Adish appeared, his Day Court friends Hem and Apollo in tow along with Nyx and a female I’d never seen before. Nyx looked in my direction with a wink as he saw the piece Eris and I stood before, before heading with the group for glasses of champagne.

Eris spoke, “I’m going to speak with Feyre regarding reservation of the piece before anyone else tries to snag it out from under me.”

“It’s not for sale, Eris. Nobody else would be able to purchase it.”

He pressed his warm lips into mine. “I won’t risk a good thing.”

I blushed, dismissing him.

Nursing my champagne, I perused the various pieces decorating the gallery walls when a female voice came from behind me. “If you wanted your father’s attention, there are better ways than whoring yourself to Autumn Court trash.”

I turned around to see the female Nyx had entered with. Her dark hair and blue eyes fooling nobody. Clever little shapeshifter.

“And I didn’t realize your father was in the habit of allowing females to leave his manor.”

She grinned. “Oh come on, he locked her in ONE time...or at least that’s what he tells me. He really can be an overbearing asshole sometimes.”

I laughed. “I missed you so much, you bitch. Nyx needs to stop hoarding you.”

“Please” she scoffed. “I don’t need Tamlin and Rhys’ melodrama to complicate things.”

“Ha, I’m sure Nyx filled you in on all of the drama in my world recently.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh yes, I’ve been living vicariously through your escapades.”

She leaned in to hug me. “So” I took in the brown hair she’d chosen for the evening. “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“Mmm, as enticing as that would be. I prefer your blonde hair and green eyes. It does something for me.”

“It does something for Nyx too.”

I pretended to vomit before Nyx stepped in. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to spend time with my lady before she decides to leave with you instead and I get stuck with the fireling.”

“He’s quite fun, Nyx. I’m sure you’d enjoy the ride.”

Nyx choked on his drink and whisked Layla away with him, leaving me to take in the art in peace.

A few more minutes passed and my shadows grew restless as if contemplating the same thing as me: Eris should be back by now.

Feyre had returned to the gallery with no Eris in sight. I searched, passing Adish and Apollo, my parents and Azalea, Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, even Amren, but no Eris.

Had he left? Did I scare him away?

No, his response was sincere. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t, right?

I walked down a quiet hallway, stepping away from the crowd. “Eris?” I whispered into the quiet of the hall.

Two shadows returned with no information but another returned frantic. “Bad.” “Go.”

I hurried in the direction my shadows shot out, winding further and further down the hall.

My heart stopped. In front of me was the radiant, gorgeous Hemera, pressed up against my man. Lips crashing into his.

“Bad.” My shadow repeated. Whirling to show me something.

Eris saw me and his eyes blew wide, shaking his head.

Hemera turned, wicked grin contorting her gorgeous features into something cruel.

“Sorry, hon. He’s just so needy and so pretty. Can you blame me?”

Did this bitch really think I’d simper and turn away? Oh no. My shadows continued their whispers.

“Blade.”

“Bad.”

“Blade.”

“Bad.”

A sliver of silver caught the dim lights shining down upon them, a blade held to Eris’ neck.

Eris stared at me wide eyed as my shadows erupted into a frenzy around me in effort to distract the Day Court female.

She jolted and her blade knicked his neck and I felt a sudden spike of fear in my gut but the fear, it didn’t come from me. It was coming from…. Eris.

Holy shit.

Willing all of my power to the surface, my tone turned cold, dangerous. “I suggest you step away from my mate.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court. Eris fucking Vanserra. My mate.

I gave a tug in return to his emotions. A gentle reminder that I had this under control and he instantly tugged back.

He knew. Holy shit, he had known.

I could be angry later, now I needed to save his ass.

A commotion came from behind me. Adish and Apollo rushing in. “What the-“ Adish started. “Sorry, friend.” Apollo spoke before the fucker cast a sedation spell on him.

Apollo towered over me. “You weren’t supposed to find them. For what it’s worth, you would have been a great friend.”

He moved, but I moved faster. Sending a blast of power knocking the male on his ass. My shadows binding him.

“You talk too much.” I spat.

Turning back to Hem and Eris she held him in front of her. “Don’t make me kill him.” She spoke. Now using him as a shield. With his front exposed, I could see the shackles around his wrists. “This could go much more easily if you let me leave here with him. Why do you want a cheating male? You deserve better than that.”

I needed time to assess. My shadows busy with Apollo. Fuck. This was bad.

I laughed. “I hardly call you forcing yourself upon him ‘cheating’, in fact most would call that ‘assault’. And I have no patience for those who force themselves upon others.”

Just then a flurry of shadows shot into the room, ripping Hem’s wrist and dagger from Eris’ throat. My father winnowed into the room. No, this wasn’t my father. This was the feared Shadowsinger, the infamous Spymaster of the Night Court. His tone promised death as he commanded Hem to step away from Eris. She fought his demand, shaking with fear as she remained in place. “Please, you don’t understand. My father is wrongfully imprisoned in HIS court.”

“And this is how you feel it best to approach?” Father stepped closer, a thick, violent air emanating from him. “I will ask you one final time to step away from the High Lord.”

Hemera knew she was no match as she dropped the knife stepping back away from Eris.

Eris ran to me, in an attempt to shield me from any fallout but there was no more danger as father’s shadows apprehended the female.

Rhys and Feyre raced into the room, Nesta and Cassian on their tail.

Rhys whispered to Feyre. “Let Elain know it’s handled.”

Feyre’s gaze went distant as she communicated to my mother.

Rhys commanded Apollo to remove the sedation spell from Adish as Cassian jerked the apprehended male off the ground.

Nesta’s eyes flared with silver as she stared down Hemera before apprehending her as well. My mother and sister rushed in as we followed Rhys down to the gallery basement toward an empty office where the two would be held until Helion arrived. Since they were denizens of his court, it was only right to determine the next steps with him.

As the group strode toward the office, Azalea began tugging at my sleeve. “Sissy.”

“Not now, Azzie.”

She gasped, her little legs trying to keep up. “Sissy, please.”

“Just a minute, Azzie”

I felt guilty for ignoring her but my mind was coming out of the adrenaline state it had been in and my heart racing with rage and shock as I processed the revelation that Eris was my mate. That he knew and didn’t tell me.

Ironic considering that I always found Aunt Feyre and Aunt Nesta to be overly dramatic for their reactions to finding out about their own mates.

They were good, loving males who had enough money to live in lavish comfort for all of their days, and were highly regarded among the people of Velaris. How terrible.

Yet here I was. Fuming. Humiliated. That this male, a gorgeous High Lord and a damn good one at that, with a far softer heart than he’d ever let the world see, courted me because I was his mate.

I thought he wanted me for me.

“Sissy-“ Azalea drew me from my thoughts once again. “What?” I finally asked, raising my voice. But it was too late as the door to the empty office was opened, only to unveil a half naked Nyx, trousers unlaced, his body pinning a no longer shifted Layla with the bottom of her dress hiked up, and breasts fully exposed.

Nyx gaped. Eyes wide and frantic. I sent my shadows out to shield them, my father’s following suit, my hand instantly covering Azalea’s eyes.

Layla only pulled her dress up over her tits as she let out a laugh. “Whoops, we thought this room was unused.”

“I tried to tell you.” Azalea’s little voice whispered.

Darkness erupted through the room as Rhys clenched his fists. “What the fuck?” He growled out to Nyx.

My father only grinned, not caring who saw the smug satisfaction on his face. Fully conveying the look of that’s how it feels, you pompous asshole. Get it now? How’s it feel to be humiliated in front of an audience by the unconventional partner your child has chosen to fuck.

Feyre only covered her mouth, stifling a giggle at the situation. Nesta and mother quietly giggling with her.

I used the distraction to remove the enchanted shackles that were still stifling Eris’ power and apparently his ability to speak.

Fury blazed within me, my restraint failing as I spat out my next words much louder than intended.

“How long, Eris?”

Guilt flooded his features, his head hanging low.

“How. Long? How long have you known that I’m your mate?”

My father choked. The shit-eating grin instantly fading from his face, jaw and fists clenching.

A pitiful sound escaped Eris. “Since the first night… in the alley.”

“Wow.” was all I could manage as the walls began closing in around me.

I stepped away but Eris grabbed my wrist. “Please, Y/N. Just hear me out.” his broken voice pleaded. I couldn’t think. I needed space. Needed to breathe.

“Mom.” I looked to my mother. “Can we go home?”

She gave an empathetic look to Eris. “Come on, Azalea.” She reached out a hand. “Sissy needs us.”

Azalea looked to Eris, letting out a “hmph” as she scrunched her nose and crossed her arms. “That was bad.” She scolded, little wings ruffling with each word.

His face crumpled further as his little friend glared at him with disdain, words failing as she stuck her tongue out and winnowed away with mother.

“I love you.” was the last thing I heard as I spirited away.

———————————————-

A/N: I have had so much fun writing this series! Part 9 will be the final chapter but I may eventually give our main character a name and add a few spin off chapters as well. If that would be of interested to you, let me know!

Tags:

ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

Eris list: @angiedsv

Series list: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams @yourmumsdumptruck @nebarious @glitterypirateduck @mybestfriendmademe

[margoisthemoon2]

Halsin x Astarion x Afab reader // Headcanon story

~~~ AFAB Reader is in a poly relation with these two. This takes place after BG3 is over. Both SFW and NSFW. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI ~~~

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

* The three of you got a cabin together. Away from the bustling town. Corn and wheat crops semi hide your comfy home. Behind it sits a large forest. Mainly only accessible by the road. Astarion, Halsin and You make due to live and go by your day peacefully. The three of you share an XL bed. With the money you three saved up to get it custom made to fit you guys but mainly Halsin large size.

* In the winter Astarion keeps you company inside while Halsin goes out hunting for the two of you. Sitting close to the fire and wrapped in a thick blanket. When the fire starts dying astarion goes out to get more wood. Eventually Halsin arrives with a deer or a few rabbits to cook. Maybe even fish if there is a part of the river that hasnt frozen over completely.

* In the summer/spring astarion leaves at night to feed every few days. Halsin helps prepare dinner and clean around the house. You suddenly rush outside, throwing up in a bush. Youre pregnant.

* Its late winter. Halsin runs into town to fetch a midwife. Youre grabbing onto a chair screaming in pain as astarion holds your hand and rubs your back “where the hell is he” he says grittily looking at the door. “Come you must get into the bed” he says helping you walk

* “Push mother. I need you to push one more time” the midwife says. You strain and scream as you push again. “Grab me the hot towel quickly” the midwife yells. Astarion holds your hand and Halsin jumps up and run to grab the towel that was prepared for you. Soon cries filled the room. “Its-its a girl” the midwife says cleaning and wrapping the newborn in the towel and handing you her. “What should we name her?” Halsin asks “Astaria of course” Astarion says “we are not naming the baby after you!!” You say “Her name will be Meridith” you say kissing her temple “What a lovely name my heart” Halsin says.

* Its been 3mths since the birth of your baby girl. Astarion has left for the night to go feed. Halsin walks in from taking down the clothes that was washed earlier. He walks over to you town as you just got done feeding her. Gently he takes her from you into his arms and rocks her until she is fast asleep. He brings her to the crib that he carved and lays her in bed. You watch them as he lays her down and kisses her cheek. You smile. He walks around and behind you. “We made that” he says hugging you. You hum. He starts kissing your neck. Moving his hands to your waist “no. Not here” you say “yes here” he replies grabbing you harder and pushing your hips into him fully. You can feel his hard on as you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck kissing him back. He picks you up and carry you to the bed.

* Halsin went hunting for the day. Astarion is reading a book and Meridith is napping in front of the fire. You walk over to him. He leans his book down looking at you. “Yes my flower? Looking for a cuddle?” He says putting his book away and leaning back onto his arms “no” you say getting on the bed and straddling him. You lean down kissing him. “Oh i like where this is going” he says wrapping an arm around your waist. The kissing gets more and more heated. Soon youre rocking your hips onto him. “Ah i cant take this” astarion flips you two over with him on top of you. “We are about to have alot of fun” he says smirking

* Its been 4yrs. Meridith adores the three of you. Even differentiate you all as parents, papa is Astarion, daddy is Helsin and ofc Mama is you. Its the afternoon. Meridith is at school and the three of you have the home to yourselves for now. Youre washing dishes. Soon you feel a large presence behind you, its halsin. He roughly grabs your hips and you feel kisses along your neck and soon back. You moan a little. “Come here to me” he says grinding his hips against you. Feeling his hard on through his pants. You feel your skirt being lifted up and warm hands on your thighs. Soon he slips into your underwear. His thick fingers plays with your clit before he dives in. Pumping in and out of you. Your wetness making it super easily to slip out. A second and then third finger was added. Your moans getting louder. He removes then and a loud tear was heard. The cool air hits your cunt. You hear him grunt and then felt lips onto your sweetness. You grip the counter top and he licks and sucks at your heat. You gasp as you try to close your legs but halsins strength hold them open. Youre cumming. You hear him gulp as he drinks every ounce of you. “Gods youre delicious” he says, behind you hear him as he removes his clothing. “Prepare yourself” he says before diving into you, over and over again he plunges into you. The slapping of skin against skin fills the room. Both of you grunting and moaning. The door opens and walks in astarion. “Oh what a show” he says undoing his pants and begins stroking himself. You moan not even noticing astarion has entered. You felt your arms being grabbed and you being lifted off the counter and moved around. You open your eyes to see a dick in front of you. “Go on now. Give it a suck” astarion says gently slapping your face with his hard on. In your daze you take all of him in your mouth. Sucking with the help of halsin pounding from behind. You feel hands on your head and breasts. “Gods fuck im close” halsin says “Me too. Shes amazing” Astarion says grunting. Above you astarion and helsin lock eyes and both leans over. They start making out helsing starts pounding you harder than ever. Your muffled moans are more louder “Ah fuck!!” Halsin says grabbing your hips tighter as he gives two more pounds before burying himself into you. You can feel his hot cum cover your walls and start to leak out of you. Eventually he pulls out. “Fuck, fuck, shit” astarion gasps as he cums in your mouth you swallow every last bit of him. He pulls out.

* Too weak to hold yourself up you drop to the floor. Quivering you catch your breath and come down from your high. “Ill go run us a bath my sweets” halsin says. Cleaning himself up and walking away. Astarion removes the rest of your clothes. Halsin returns and picks you up in his arms. Carrying you to the hot bath. “If you wasnt pregnant before. You sure are now” he chuckles “Ill be joining you two in there” astarion says behind you both as the bathroom door closes.

[heizlut]

to feed into your nobushi brain rot, hear me on belly bulge with them.

their dicks so big to the point of when they fuck you, you can see and feel their cock on your abdomen when you put your hand on it. hell maybe if they fuck you enough times, your stomach starts to get a little big with how much they came inside you.

their so fucking hot ngh 🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎

anon i am on my fucking KNEES for this😩 so here is a small continuation of my nobushi fic. a part 1.5 if you will…

After allowing you to rest, the jintouban picks you up carrying you bridal style back to their main camp near chinju forest while the kikouban and hitsukeban take the lead. Moments later, you feel yourself be gently dropped onto a makeshift bed of tall grass and a blanket causing you to finally open your tired eyes. The kikouban looks down out you with a predatory smirk, “Look who’s finally awake.. You thought we were done with you already?” He chuckles darkly. You bite your bottom lip as you look up at the three of them, your whole body sore after what they had already done to you. The kikouban climbs on top of you, caging you in with his large body, “This is only just the beginning, sweetheart.”

He reaches down and begins toying with your puffy clit and abused hole, smirking when he finds that you’re wet all over again. He shoves two of his large fingers into your dripping cunt causing you to let out a loud gasp that quickly turns into a lewd moan. He withdraws his fingers from your cunt and holds them up, admiring the slick that covers them, “Would you look at that… Seems like this little cunt of yours is begging for more.” The kikouban shoves his slicked up fingers into your mouth and your tongue swirls around the digits as you taste your own arousal.

He wastes no more time and pulls out his hardened length, tapping it on your clit and harshly thrusts his full length inside of you in one go. You cry out around his fingers and squeeze your eyes shut. The hitsukeban crouches down next to your face and grabs your chin roughly, “Open your eyes, slut. Look how deep he is inside of you.” You open your eyes and look down at where you and the kikouban are connected, only to see the bulging outline of his dick in the bottom of your stomach, causing your cunt to clench around his thick length. The kikouban lets out a strangled laugh that morphed into a small groan and he reaches down to press on the outlined bulge as he thrusts harder into you, “Look at how well you take me. You like when I fill you up like this huh?” You cant even begin to form words as you feverishly nod your head. He rips his fingers from your mouth, slapping your cheek harshly, “I asked you a question, whore. Answer it.” You tear up from the stinging feeling left by his slap but can’t help but feel even more aroused by it all, “l-love it so much. please… please fuck me harder..” The kikouban smirks, “Well since you asked so polite and all…” He trails off, slamming into you at a rough and fast pace. He keeps his hand on the bulge in your stomach as he fucks harshly into you. Moments later, you both cry out as you cum all over his fat cock and he paints your insides white. Pulling out, he frowns at the sight of the cum leaking out of you, “We’re gonna have to do something about that…”

The jintouban nudges his friend to the side and lines himself up with your entrance, “Allow me.” He pushes his fat cock into your throbbing cunt, fucking the kikouban’s cum back in. A satisfied smirk appears on his face as he sees the outline of his cock from your stomach as well, “Huh look at that boys. Seems my cock fills them up just as nicely.” His words make your eyes flutter shut and your head drops back against the makeshift bed with a loud whimper. The three nobushi are mesmerized at the sight before them; your tits bouncing with every hard thrust and the outline of nobushi cock in your lower abdomen. It doesn’t take long for the jintouban to release inside of you as well, stuffing you so full of cum. He frowns as well when he sees the cum leak from you again, “Still not good enough..”

The hitsukeban rolls his eyes, grabbing you and flipping you over onto your stomach. You let out a yelp as he does this, so exhausted and not expecting him to do that so suddenly. He wraps his big arm around your waist and lifts you up slightly, lining himself with your leaky and used cunt before bottoming out in one especially harsh thrust. The amount of times they have used you today alone has stretched your poor cunt out just enough that they can slide their thick long cocks inside it without too much struggle. The hitsukeban pounds into your pussy, hitting your cervix with each thrust. With the way his arm was holding you up by your waist, it was putting just the right amount of pressure on the bulging outline in your abdomen, causing you squirt all over his cock with a loud moan. The hitsukeban let’s out a low growl, “Such a good fucking whore squirting all over my cock like that…” The way you clench around him drives him wild and his thrusts become messy and rushed as he chases his own high. Seconds later, he’s filling you his thick hot load. His cock pulsing and throbbing inside of your poor abused cunt. The hitsukeban doesn’t pull out even as his cock finally begins to soften. He collapses down next to you and pulls you to him, holding your small fragile frame against his own large muscular body, “Gonna stay like this for awhile.. Gotta make sure the cum stays..” You let out a soft breathless whimper and look down at your stomach. It was now slightly more round having been filled their thick cum so many times in a day. You couldn’t really complain though. Fuck a daily commission reward, this was all the reward you needed.

[the-colourful-witch]

The All the Young Dudes book covers project

I've been working on this fun project in my time off from social media. It consists of three illustrations to use as book covers for All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 on Ao3. This book has been the foundation of my involvement in the fandom. It's the first fic I read about the Marauders and I loved it so much! I laughed, and I cried, it was a real rollercoaster. After making the cover for A Brief History of Dragons by Eyra, I caught the bug and started thinking of more covers to illustrate. I loved working on the first cover, but I didn't love doing it on my tablet. At heart, I am a traditional illustrator and for this kind of illustration, I felt paper might work better. So I got to work. I knew I wanted to make three covers. From what I've seen online most people bind their own copies of All the Young Dudes in three parts: Year 1-4, Year 5-7 and Until the End. Therefore, I made three covers. I have not yet digitalized these illustrations, but I'll turn them into downloadable covers for binders to use for their book projects. I am working on binding my own physical copies of AtYD too :) It's fun! Right, to the covers. There's so much to say!

Book One

This is the start of Remus' life at Hogwarts and his friendship with the other Marauders. I wanted it to feel a bit like reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone for the first time. It's the realisation that magic is real, it's that first spark you get when picking up a book you instantly connect with. That was the feeling I wanted to incorporate in this first cover. There are a bunch of little easter eggs for the story and I hope you'll pick them all out. Let me know in the comments what you think they are. Also, for this project, I studied the language of flowers. I am not sure if all my information is correct, but in this one, I put dandelions in the top corners. Dandelions represent new beginnings :)

Book Two

The second half of the Marauders' time at Hogwarts. This part is all about love and loyalty; something I liked a lot! It's also the time when the Marauders complete their animagus transformations. The animals had to be on the cover! That, I knew for sure. I went for a forest theme for this second cover, because of all the mischief the Marauders got up to in the Forbidden Forest during full moons. I used flower language here as well. For every Marauder I picked a flower I felt represented who they are. For Peter, at the top, I chose Bleeding Heart and Belladonna. Both of them represent betrayal and death. Nice and cheery :) For Sirius, on the Right, I chose Bluebell, which represents loyalty. For Remus, on the Left, I chose Acacia, which represents secret love or forbidden love, because he's hiding his sexuality for most of the book. But it's a love flower and in his core Remus is caring and loving, despite his rough edges. For James, on the bottom, I chose violets. And violets represent love at first sight. I know we all know why <3 I like this cover a lot. The picture is a bit grainy, but like I said, I'm still working on digitalising.

Book Three

Last but certainly not least. This book is about war, love and loss. It was definitely the most challenging piece out of the three, but worth the trouble. On this cover, I put Hogwarts at the top, because that's where it all started and where it ends. On the bottom, there's a prophecy, which is about Harry and Voldemort. There are a few gravestones at the bottom. Very cheerful, I know, but if you pay attention, you see a Deathly Hallows on one of them. On the sides are my favourite parts. I like the lily flower in the arms of death, because it's obvious, but also beautiful. I like the Death Eater on the other side because it's spooky. The snakes represent rebirth and Slytherin House, which is important to the story of the Second Wizarding War, connecting good and evil. Once again I put all the flowers in this piece, scattering them around because they're all interwoven in each other's stories. Finally, I want to say something about the three central images. In the first we see Remus as a child. He's alone and scared of the big scary wolf. The three images are a timeline. It represents Remus' relationship with the wolf in him. At first, he despises it and is scared of it. And finally, he stands with it, not quite embracing it, but he's not scared anymore. In the middle, I wanted to show Remus with his friends, because they banished his fear whenever they were together. With his friends, the wolf didn't control Remus and he could control the wolf. I hope it's all clear. I loved working on these pieces and I hope you like them too!

[birdkatze]

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 4

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = Gaz/reader

Words = 1k

[Chapter 3] --- [Chapter 5]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

Explicit under the cut

“Guys…We can’t leave them like that..” Gaz frowned, looking in between the three alphas in frustration.

“Gaz, they will be fine” Price asserted, pulling into their den’s driveway, “We can’t just…We have to give them time to accept.”

“Price, you don’t understand!” frowning Gaz pleaded with Price and the other three alphas, “Duck is an omega- one that hasn’t ever had pack before, fuck they haven’t shifted before today! We need to go back..”

“I said no.” Price took off his boots and clothes- as customary in the den.

Looking at the other two Gaz pleaded at them hopelessly “Alphas please..” “Sorry mate, I’m sure Duck’ll be fine” Ghost moved Gaz’s hat and kissed his forehead.

“What Price says goes.” Soap asserted frowning, taking off his clothes and climbing into the nest looking just as frustrated and upset. It was clear he was not happy with Price’s decision.

Gaz whimpered and looked at them hopelessly, frowning he stayed in the mudroom- still fully dressed. Crossing his arms he attempted to guilt his alphas into helping

“Price! You don’t get it as the pack omega you need to listen to me! At least one of us needs to be with Duck right now. It’s-” Gaz tried to explain before Price cut him off

“Gaz…” Price grumbled in warning, using his alpha voice “Come’on we’ll check on them tomorrow.”

Climbing into the nest, Price pulled Soap on top of him. Which was odd but not unusual.Gaz was always to one who Price did that with…Gaz frowned before giving in and getting undressed for the nest, curling up against Ghost who wrapped an arm around him- pulling him close.

Gaz didn’t get a lick of sleep, anxious the entire night. Eventually he couldn’t help it and carefully extracted himself from the nest to get a drink of water. A wave of nausea overtook Gaz as he thought about you, he had been lucky all things considered. Price and Ghost had taken him in and refused to let him be alone. They had reassured him and held him tightly as he got used to being in a pack that wasn’t unstable and cruel.

Gaz knew how it felt as an omega to meet a pack for the first time and for them to just leave…it was a painful feeling. Gaz’s second pack had done that to him, they had met with him and given him scraps, then they left. Even thinking about it now is painful, his omega felt rejected and hurt beyond comparison.   

His first and second pack were cruel, the scars he bore still hurt during the winter from his mistreatment. Gaz couldn’t even stomach the thought of pups now due to the horror of what they had done to him, Gaz felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes.

Soap sat down next to Gaz on the couch leaning against his shoulder, startling Gaz and pulling from his memories.

“You feel it too?” Kissing Gaz’s shoulder, Soap questions.

“We have to go back…We can’t leave an omega like that…” 

“I agree..”

Both men quietly left, making sure to leave a note. Quickly shifting into their wolf form and opting to run the few miles between the den and your house. The run was an easy one and rather beautiful. The moon light dappled through the trees.

As the pair got closer to the house they could smell the scent you were producing. It gutted both of them. It was the smell of pain, sadness, rejection, and agony. Climbing over your short fence Gaz opens the sliding glass door without having any issue which sets off alarm bells for the pair even more.

The scent that permeated in the house was one of sickness. Crying Gaz climbed up the stairs and into your room knocking on your bedroom door before entering.

“Duck?” walking over to you Gaz looked horrified at the state you were in.

You were curled up in a ball in the bathroom sobbing, making pained noises. 

Running to your side Gaz and Soap pull you up off the tile and into your bed. Soap runs out to get you water and a simple carb. Gaz pulled you on top of him and kissed your cheek.

“It’s okay Duck, me and Soap are here, you aren’t a bad omega sweetheart.” Gaz ran his fingers through your hair and across your back, holding you close. 

Soap came back up with a bag of chips he had found in your backpack and water.

Gaz carefully sat you up in the bed and Soap sat next to you. Gaz let Soap feed and water you, it would be better if there was an alpha doing it for you. Gaz simply held your hand gently rubbing circles with his thumb.

You started to come back into awareness as Soap and Gaz babied you. You let off a small whimper after you finish and curl up against them more as Gaz and Soap pull you into laying down.

Soap licked your jaw and kissed you the crown of your head, hugging and snuggling against you. Gaz does the same snuggling and holding you tightly, gently whispering sweet sentences, rubbing small circles into your hip.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, you felt more like a person again. 

Smiling softly you snuggled closer to Gaz and Soap, feeling much happier. You kiss the crown of Gaz’s head and Soap's shoulder. Feeling relieved the pair chatted your ear off, full of soft adoration and kind words.

Blushing, hiding your face against your pillow as the two praise you, apologizing for leaving you all alone.

“Duckkkkk..” nuzzling you, Soap smiled “Don’t hide from us..” he teasingly licked the shell of your ear. Causing you to shiver and squirm, a surprising flash of arousal passed over you.

“Stopppp” whining you keep your face in your pillow, feeling embarrassed and horny.

“It’s okay Duck, Soap let’em sleep” mumbling Gaz pulled the blanket over the three of you.

Relenting Soap snuggled up against you and fell asleep very quickly. You also were dead asleep and so was Gaz in a matter of seconds.

You had never felt so safe and warm.

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

Hiiiiii how are you? I wanted to ask if you could do a super spicey one shot where a male yautja ends up stalking a group of girls and having his way with them in various ways, one by one but then when he finally gets to the reader he ends favoring the reader more than the other girls and ends up breeding reader until the next morning and after that he decided she was gonna be his mate 😏

A night to remember

Summary: girls night out went absolutely wrong.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, omfg where do I start, uhhh, rape/noncon, breeding, alien in a rut, drugging, violence, death, implied forced pregnancy,,,

MDNI MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else, read at own risk.

Not proof read, English isn't my first language and this was written at 1 am.

Authors note: my first reaction when I read that request was literally 🤨🫢🫣😈 I never thought I could be capable of writing this, but it helped me through my writers block, thx <3

Preparations were always hard. But the worse was long done. Now it was only make up that was left. Tonight's Friday night. The Friday night. Where me, Michelle and Tina finally got ready for our girls night out. We planned that date for so long - Prepared for so long. The parties theme at our local club was "warrior". So the girls and me obviously had to go all overboard. It didn't matter if we went overdressed or too hard. This was and is going to be some quality time. We had so much fun putting together our costumes. Even tho it was still obvious they were part dresses still.

Tina's get up was leaning more for a samurai. Shoulderpats, chest plate - yet still revealing, and a kimono type dress - also still revealing.

Michelle was more inspired by knights. Her dress was complement nicely by a chain top and some more sliver plates on her arms and legs. As well as a cute half helmet with a gracious yellow feather. Overall not too revealing, but the dress was still short enough to almost pop her butt out.

I on the other hand? I went for something more primal. Like a hunter. A hunter you'd see in a deep forest in the stone ages. I knew all the fur would bite me in the ass at the club, but it was worth it, of course it wasnt all fur. Just a big patch of fur over my shoulder. The rest? A sweet brown dress, showing off my thighs and what was still visible of my collarbone. I even went so far and got myself a necklace with sharp teeth and some Ambers. Not sure if either were real. It was second hand. I put on some last details for my make up. Painting some face markings.

We were now ready to go.

"Wait! Hold up", Tina basically shouted out, as Michelle grabbed her heels. We all looked at Tina. She held up her arms and looked at us with a devious smile.

"We have to get a shot in, just to celebrate"

Michelle shook her head. "Come on, Tina. It's not that pricey at the club."

I looked between the two. Sighing with a smile: "But we've got to celebrate. Now that Tina's moving away."

Tina jumped up, like a kid, begging over and over. "Pleaaaaase - for me? This once, Michelle?"

Michelle was never fond of drinking before hand. Drinking in general even, only on special occasions.

Michelle places her heels back down. Giving up, for Tina's sake. Tina giggled and turned back to the kitchen. Smacking three shot glasses on the table like she's a bartender. A samurai bartender. Michelle and I smirked with Tina. When she pulled put her vodka, our eyes widen. This really was a special occasion. It was her 10 Liter vodka bottle, that she never opened. That shit cost her a fortune.

We watched as Tina opened the bottle, it emitted a cracking sound. Yes. Freshly open. It was untouched. Until now. She carefully shifted the bottle, trying to hit the shot glasses. It already made her look like she was drunk, spilling the vodka left and right. We all giggled. Tina let out a more nervous one. I couldn't watch her struggle any longer. So I held the two glasses up to the bottles head. Making it easier to pour. Michelle took the last glass and also then held it under the head. Now all three were full and each placed in a hand. We looked at each other.

"To Tina", Michelle said, holding up the small glass up and to our middle.

"To Tina." We all said out like a record. Drinking it in one go. Nothing at first. But then a weird taste emerged. I wasn't really used to pure vodka. Michelle, not at all. She coughed. But quickly swallowed her cough as quick as it came. We all chuckled together again.

"I could go for another one... now that it's open...", the bottle owner said, swaying her hip from side to side.

"No." It came out like a choir from us.

"We gotta get there before 8, otherwise, who knows how full it'll be tonight", I said, already going for the small hallway to grab my heels. Tina soon following with Michelle.

The streets were quiet. Some passerbys still on their way to wherever. We had to pass through a small patch of forest. It was lit. Michelle would have driven. If she wouldn't have drunk something. Michelle struggled in her highheels. Almost tripping every meter due to the uneven ground. So me and Tina went to each of her side. Supporting her. We finally reached the club. A big snake already formed upfront.

Tina scoffed. "Great. Are we too late already? It's not even 8 yet."

As we approached I looked at the snake of people. They didn't move at all. As we stood there at the end now too, I noticed that they didn't even open up yet. A quick glance at my phone showed me, that it was just 7:55. "We're not late, we're even too early-"

I was cut off by Michelle pointing out the variety of costumes. Tina joining in. I looked up. Yes. We were definitely not overdressed. We fit right in.

"This one's definitely a cosplayer", Michelle said.

"A good one at that", Tina chuckled. I turned my head. Looking at who they were talking about. A woman, must be around our age. She didn't dress revealing at all. It was a full set of armor. Maybe that was foam. Who knows.

I chuckled out: "Are we underdressed?"

We all laughed at that.

Finally it was time. And exactly on the clock, the security guy finally let the people in. Another one arrived, helping out, due to the long snake. He must have been waiting anyways.

After a good 15 minutes, we were up. Showing our ID, the insides of our small bags, pockets. I was good to go. Michelle too. "That's gonna be a great night", said one of the security guards as he checked Tina's matching bag. Giving it her back, she smiled at him. She was also good to go.

We turned to her. Confused. She caught on to our mimics. "Oh. Just a couple of bucks."

Inside the party hasn't fully started. No one was yet on the dance floor. More like trying to get settled and drunk enough to try and dance. We grabbed a table. Looking over the room. After some talk about Tina's plans for her new apartment she got silent. We were silent. We already told her so many times that we'll miss her. She knows that. I hope she knows that.

"I'll be right back"

She said. Turning away.

"Where are you going?", I asked her. Having to talk louder due to the booming music and her now being a bit further away.

She mouthed something that neither me or Michelle heard. Michelle shrugged. I looked around again.

"Well. Guess I should leave this shithole too, like Tina."

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows at my comment. "No you won't. Who am I gonna ball my eyes out with at the McDonalds in the drive in, after I had another shitty relationship?"

I look at Michelle surprised with a smirk. "So you admit your ex was a douche?" She rolls her eyes. Not saying another word about that topic: "just don't leave. It's already enough that Steelheaded-Tina is moving away."

Speaking of her, she finally returns. With three neon green, toxic, probably so unhealthy cocktails in her hands. She places them down in the middle of the table. A smirk so wide it's almost unsettling. It's so obvious that she really wants this night to be great. We start sipping on them. Talking about God knows what. Eventually we decided to make our way to the dance floor. Tina wasn't quite done with her drink yet. Still half way. Michelle and I already ready to go.

"Guys wait-", Michelle said, "I'll make a break for the bathroom, Tina, you better zip that unholy brewery up so we can dance after."

I look at Michelle, worried. "Want me to tag along?" Michelle shook her head. "Nah, I'm good."

With that she left. A man and a woman approached us, not long after. They started talking to me and Tina. The man seemed especially interested in Tina.

The woman turned to me. Leaning in closer to my ear after I couldn't understand her first try to talk to me.

"Do you have a tampon?" "Oh yeah"

I said. I always had one. Especially at a party. You never know. I open my bag, searching for it, in the corner of my eye, I spotted how Tina and the guy faced the dance floor. The guys hand on the table. I looked back at the now found tampon and gave it to her. She thanked me. Turning away to reach the bathroom. I looked back at Tina and the guy. They now faced each other again. He was obviously flirting, judging by his face and Tina's reactions. I couldn't hear them at all. It was too loud.

Michelle came back. Rolling her eyes at Tina and her new found partner for tonight. She was as amused as me. But deep down we were both still worried. The guy invited Tina to dance. She said yes, as they both went to the dance floor, we quickly stepped on it too, keeping a close eye on Tina.

Everything went fine up until a bit later. We noticed Tina being more tipsy. More unfocused. I gave Michelle a frown, she also caught up to my sightings. As we looked back where Tina and the guy just were, we were surprised in to see it now vacated by another person.

Our dance came out a abrupt end. Quickly glancing around the room. We spotted them. He tried to pull Tina out of the club, to the exit. Through the mass we pushed ourself through. I was first who made it out, pulling Tina to me. She almost crashed down, if it weren't for Michelle coming up in the right moment to support her as well.

The guy looked at us. Obviously distraught by us intervening. "I just wanted to get her some air."

Michelle and I looked at him. "Yeah right, fuck off." I scoffed out loud. Security already noticing the situation.

"Everything okay?"

We turned our heads to the security guard. Explaing what happened. The guard pulled the guy aside. Telling us to still get Tina outside and let her sit with us until he investigated the guy.

Indeed we sat. On a bench. Waiting. Another security guard was nice enough to give us a bottle of water. Which we made Tina drink, even tho she said she doesn't need it. After a while the other guard came back out. With a sigh he tried to tell us in a most neutral way, that he found some knock out drops a hidden pouch of the guys costume. I tried to remember. Yes. When the guy was at our table, Tina wasn't don't with her drink yet. Only before she hit the dance floor she drank. Shit.

The guy tells us to get Tina home. Maybe call a cab. If her state worsens then maybe even a ambulance. He also told us he'll make sure the police knows about that guy, and he won't ever get in again. No matter the outcome of what the police says. He asked for our numbers, in case the police has any further questions in the coming days.

With that, we were let go.

We phoned the cabs. All of them said they couldn't make it in less than an hour. So we decided to walk ourselves. We'd be home faster. We were three people. But only one completely out of it. This was a quiet town, we told ourselves. The woods were lit, so it was okay, we told ourselves. We walked.

As we reached the woods, Michelle couldn't really walk and support Tina at the same time. So after a few meters she decided to take her heels off. We were slower. But steady. Tina was being held steady.

Now that we were slower, I took in the sounds of the night. The sounds of the dark forest. The chirping of the crickets. The owl hooing. And the slight fresh breeze pushing against us. At least my fur covered shoulder wasn't getting cold.

I looked at Michelle and Tina. Tina almost asleep, yet still walking. Michelle was exhausted. Her face a bit pained from the heel-less walking. I faced back at the path. I tried to focus on what was ahead of us. Our surroundings. But... was I getting deaf? I can still clearly hear Michelle and Tina walking. But I didn't hear any cricket. No owl. The wind was still there. I felt as if the air got heavier. The owl started hooing again. Maybe I was just tired, too unfocused.

We kept walking. Half way there. The lights in the woods path, were still lit. I glanced at my watch again, as Michelle also stopped walking, taking a break. 11pm. As I waited for Michelle to gather her strength again, Tina woke up slowly from her half asleep state. Being all giggly and seeming like a high person. I took a deep breath in. Focusing on my surroundings. We have to get her to safety. The crickets and owl were still at it. Then, a crack. Silence. I assumed the animals would start again, but, the owl took flight. Flying over and away from us. I felt the aid get heavy again. I felt nervous.

"Can we keep walking?" I said, almost stuttering. Almost begging Michelle. Tina jumped off and away from our arms. "Let's camp!"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No Tina, we can camp at your place. Where we should be right now."

Tina wanted to say something, but we were cut off by a net being launched at me and Michelle. We were trapped. Tina chuckled as she looked at us. "Spidermaaaaaaan"

Michelle was the first one to try and rip open the net, followed by me. "Looksy! I see you, handsome!", Tina cooed, she was turned away from us, pointing into the tree line, where the net came from. Our eyes already somewhat used to the dark, spotted a shape. A man? Michelle now engaged in trying to rip apart the net even more. I looked at the figure, trying to see them better. But it moved all of the sudden, launching himself with a uncanny jump towards the free standing Tina. Snatching her right up. She was pulled into the bushes. We heard it all rustle. "Oooh- manly man-", Tina cooed again, the silhouette of them indicating, she's tracing his stomach.

I helped Michelle. The net seemed unbreakable. Our initial shock calming down slowly, making us finally able to talk. "Oh my fucking god- TINA RUN!"

Michelle yelled. She was in my vision, I couldn't see what she saw. What happened with Tina or who that was.

"That is not a man!" She kept yelling.

"But he's so-" a loud scream emitted from Tina. I pushed Michelle aside as we both yelled out for her. Who or whatever it was, I pushed Tina against a tree. It's form seeming to ram its hips into her. Her screams were parallel with its thrusts. I panicked. Digging under the net with my bare hands. Michelle joined in, but she mined away the dirt with her heel.

"Wait we have a phone-" I went to grab where my bag was. But the bag was outside the net. I leaned against it, trying to reach it, pulling the hard working Michelle with me. She was caught off guard by my sudden move, making her drop. "Hey!"

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get to my bag. Even when I pushed so hard against the net, it left markings on me. Michelle caught on to me, reaching for her bag that she wore. Pulling out her phone. "THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" She starred at her screen. Empty. Trying to shut it on again, but it shut right back down before 911 could even be dialed. In a fit or more rage and desperation she smashed her phone on a rock. It shattered on the third try. She used the now smashed phone to cut the net. I took a shard as well and also tried to cut it. The yelling and screaming from Tina has stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn't human and it growled in relief.

I made it, I cut through. I quickly squeezed myself through the still somewhat smal gap I made. I ran, a trident was launched at me. Thankfully not piercing me as a tree was there, making me pinned up by the neck against it. My head was too big to try and squeeze my way out, and the trident was launched to deeply into the tree. Michelle had squeezed out too, running for me, trying to undo the trident holding me hostage. My eyes widen, the creature walked up to us. In the dim light, I myself saw, that that was no human. No animal. But a creature. Otherworldly. It wore what seemed to helmet and armor. I screamed out. Altering Michelle.

She tuned her head. I pushed her. "MICHELLE RUN-"

Michelle looked back at me, unsure. But I pushed her again. So she ran. The creature running after her now. Knowing I was pinned. I pushed against the trident again, my sweaty palms making it difficult to hold on. Or it was just launched to deep. Or both. I looked back at where Michelle had ran to. Only to see that the creature had caught up to her. Having her pinned down. She was gasping, crying. It had her pinned by the hip. I panicked again, as it kept smashing against her hips in a unholy force, making her cry and beg, I turned around, facing the tree and pushing my neck against the trident. Thank god it wasn't sharp. I pushed and pushed. It hurt so much, but I did it, I fell back, the top of the trident scraping against my exposed shoulder and arm. The furred shoulder was fine. I didn't mind the blood. I picked up the trident, looked into the direction Tina was, I couldn't belive my eyes.

She was dead. Her thigh, and neck bruised and bloodied. Only then realising, that her body and head didn't add up. It twisted her head and broke her neck.

I took my eyes off her, facing to Michelle and that... creature. I quickly ran towards them, at first it didn't seem to notice me. But as he did, shortly before I could react in time, he got up, I quickly jolted the trident to the side, falling a bit on Michelle. In the short second I laid on her, my head next to hers, it seemed she was still breathing, but barely.

The creature tried to get ahold of the trident. Grabbing it, and pulling it away from me. But I held it firmly. It started to slip from my hands as it used more force. So I quickly pulled my legs up and kicked against the tridents pole, stabbing it at it with my full force. It didn't hit him directly, but a spot that wasn't covered by its armor. It bled. Green. Neon green. As it tried to recover from its injury, I ran. Following the lights, I noticed heavy stomps behind me. They were quick. Close. I didn't dare look behind me. I knew it was... that.

I decided in a frenzy, that maybe jumping between trees might slow it down. So I went off rail, going zick zack between the trees. It seemed to help. For a while. I was still close to the paths lights, just enough so I could see. Just my luck that I spotted a axe in front of me. I abruptly stopped, grabbed it, and swung out. It jolted back, I almost hit it. Almost.

It roared out, angry, I flinched, but still held the axe steady. I once again tried to launch it at him, several times in a span of seconds. It nicked him twice. It growled and roared again, getting more and more agitated, out of no where it kicked me off my legs, making me fall down, before I could react, it grabbed my axe, as well as me, I hit a tree while I stood, a loud thuck boomed next to my ear. The axe was at my neck. I felt out a shaky gasp. I tried to look behind me, but my head was quickly pushed into the tree by its hand. The other toying with my underwear before ripping it off fully, with a single yank.

It got all close. Shoving my hips upwards and off the ground. It didn't matter to it, that it hurt me in that position. My spine felt over stretched. As well did my stomach and soon something else.

I felt its hips shuffle around, the armor plate in front of its crotch scooting over to so he could insert its otherworldly cock. No warning, no lube, no spit. That thing tore me apart with one shove. I screamed out, so high pitched you'd think I was in a Opera trying to destroy a glass. But my high pitch was soon replaced by deep screams, gasped screams. I was trying to get air. My one arm, I pressed against the tree, trying to not get myself killed whenever he pushed back in and could break my neck by this position he had me. The other was at his thigh, rather my fingertips, trying to prevent him from going to rough or too deep. Which was a lost cause. He, whatever he was, was too strong.

He kept pushing and pushing, his speed and force altered from time to time. Already making me see starts. I was already exhausted. Its grip on my head was now a tiny bit more gentle. Letting me look down. There I saw a green-white hued liquid. Which must be what I was thinking. It slowed. As it did so, my hip jolted from all that he's put me through. But to him, it must have been like invitation to keep going. He yanked me around. Facing him, still off the ground. He disposed of the axe by throwing it on the ground.

Before I could try to kick him, punch him, or anything, he held me up, in the air. No tree I could support myself on now. My hips hovered over his. And he let them crash down on his. I whimpered out again, it didn't hurt as much anymore. My fists were on his chest, I was still trying to push him away. As his hips kept rolling against mine, his clawed hand reached up to the brim of my dress, ripping it off. My boobs jiggling intensly with every deeper and faster thrust. I still pushed against him, he grabbed me by the waist and hip, his large hand being able to hold a, to him smaller creature, up like that. I saw the lit path upside down. He kept up his pace, even going rougher. Weirdly enough it felt so good, so good I let out a long restrained moan. No. I can't enjoy this.

But this feeling. Being stretched, filled out fully... the way he hits every spot. Another moan escaped my lips. My fists, now unclenched, grabbing at his stomach armor. His pace picked up. Thinking I'm trying to tell him to speed up. With that my body shivered throughout, I quickly sat myself up again on his hip, one of my hands grabbing at his shoulder. His monstrous pace not decreasing.

I leaned my head against the crook of his neck. The corners of my eyes turned black. And I screamed as I came undone on him. As I painted the green-white hued liquid on the ground with my own as well.

He still kept up the pace, not letting me recover. I insides clenched around his cock, I needed to recover but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. He now placed his arms on my shoulder. Pinning me to him as he needed to get his rut out. I moaned and whimpered against his neck, everything went more dark by each push. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Just how he felt in me. How he pushed his seed deeper and further up. I didn't know how many times he came. How long he's been going at it.

I woke up again. I was dropped down somewhat gently on the ground. Sat up on the damn tree. I looked down at myself. As he stood before me. Whenever I moved a muscle, as I tried to get up, a big drop of his green-white cum emitted from my pussy. It even appeared that my stomach was more bloated. My thighs being covered in all that liquid. I looked up at him, behind his head, were the trees heads, exposing the now dawning morning sun. Its been that long!?

I watched as he picked up the axe, then me. Me? I was swung over his shoulder. My stomach pressed against it, making more cum blurt out. He walked deeper into the woods. I was too weak to do anything. Too exhausted. He stopped, I looked over his shoulders. My eyes widen at the sight. A otherworldly craft. A vehicle. A ufo? A ufo. And he carried me inside. Setting me down on a chair in the cockpit, putting on what seemed to be seat belts. "Mate", it said in a scratchy growling voice. He turned away from me and started his ship.

My heart stopped. That sure was a night I won't ever forget.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***NOTE: I’m not super pleased with this chapter, it very much is filler. I had a massive plot point happen originally, but I thought it would be too soon this far in. So, I wrote some Sunset Trio bonding in two hours this morning. I have chapters 6 and 7 (this original chapter) written for the future, but chapter 5 will take place directly following the end of this one before another time jump. Another point, we will (probably) not have another Noa POV until chapter 7. So, buckle up for that, and thank you to everyone who has followed me, and to all my readers!!!

Chapter 4: Shifted Plans

You

If someone would have told you years ago that three apes would soon turn into the closest thing you had to friends or family, you would have said that they were insane. Noa was no surprise, seeing as there was an early bond of trust formed between the two of you, but his Sunset Brother and Sunset Sister, as they called each other, came as quite a shock. Anaya had a very comedic and gentle nature, which you only witnessed Noa and Soona have on occasion. Most of those occasions you noticed, were when the trio were together. He brought it out in them, and even you had to admit, he brought it out in you too. For that you were grateful, you hadn’t felt things like that in a long time.

You believed it was that same playfulness in you, and the passage of time, that finally convinced Soona to drop her guard and trust you. You respected her from day one, appreciating that she apologized for attacking you, though you hadn’t even realized she did at the time. That conversation had been awkward, at least on your part, since you still had been terrified out of your wits. You had just wrapped your brain around the fact that you could trust Noa, when a flurry of fangs and limbs had lunged for you. To suddenly have two more apes appear on top of that, screeching and hollering, your entire body just shut down. You had covered your head and jugular out of instinct, but had been willing to accept that your death would be quicker if you didn’t fight back.

Thankfully, Anaya had been able to pull you out of that cocoon of fear you had wrapped yourself in. Although, his face being the first thing you saw had unnerved you, almost wanting to curl up again. It wasn’t as soft or as comforting as Noa’s had been, but Anaya’s eyes, though deep brown instead of green, as well as the small ape noises he made, expressed clearly that he had no intentions to harm you. It made sense in your brain, reason coming back to you as you watched him sit up…if they wanted to kill you they would have already. Blinking away tears, you had sat up with him, looking around you then to see Noa and Soona standing further away so as not to frighten you further.

Soona very much felt like the big sister of the group, and while they had explained they were born on the same day, Noa did confess that they were older than him. Her approval meant more to you when you saw the love and care he held for her. You wouldn’t force it though, and you did not initially intend to be adopted by the trio at all. On that day, introductions had been made, apologies were given, thanks were said once more for saving Noa, another tour of your home was given…excluding the exit burrow, and they had departed. As Noa predicted, Anaya followed behind them as they left, basket of grapes in hand as he feasted.

You hadn’t seen them for almost a week after that, and you hadn’t sought them out either. You felt unsure how to handle having a peace with them. You still moved carefully through the forest, not knowing if they had told the rest of their clan about your existence. Coming across them was one thing, but coming across other apes? Too dangerous.

Then, one sunny midday, you went to the creek to bathe, scoping out the area to find you were alone. The water had receded a few days after the dam broke, and nearly a full week later with only light rain, you deemed the water was clean enough to use. You clung to the edge of the bank, the water still very cold after hardly any sun over the past month. You rubbed and scrubbed quickly, not wanting to be exposed any longer than you needed to be. You had grabbed the scrap of fabric you used for a towel, which you assumed used to be a table cloth of some sort, drying yourself in record time. The baggy men’s shirt, which you had scrounged up during one of your journeys to the old vineyard, was thrown on quickly afterwards.

The fact it was intact had shocked you, so you only wore it on bathing day, appreciating the buttons that still functioned. Thanks to your run in with Noa, the pants you were used to having on bathing day were still dirty. The shirt was long enough though, dangling just a few inches above your knees, and with no one around it didn’t matter anyway. It was your own sense of modesty at that point, which would be damned in a life or death situation. Standing, you left the pants on a dry mound next to the water, ready to be rinsed in the creek once you had finished your routine. You still had to wash your hair…

This was the part you hated the most, checking around you as you made your way towards the rock you had used to save Noa. Just down the side of it, where a fifteen foot drop existed, was a water fall you utilized for washing your hair. You scaled the side, careful of your footing on the slippery rocks, taking a final scan of your surroundings. The sound of water drowned out everything, so once you closed your eyes you would be vulnerable to anything and everything.

You reached the small ledge that ran under the waterfall, sticking to just the edge, close enough to not be seen from the other side, but far enough away the harsh current wouldn’t topple your center of gravity. One last look…still nothing. Kneeling down, shoulders hunching as you leaned forward, you took a breath before shoving your head under the heavy spray. Your fingers desperately scrubbed at your scalp to remove the dirt and oil that you were able to with just water alone. How you wished you had learned how to make soap when your mother was alive, or at least written down the ingredients she used.

Your hair was getting too long again, knowing you would have to cut it soon. Long hair was a luxury you simply couldn’t afford anymore, especially in a situation like this. The longer the hair, the longer it took to wash like this, which was something you would avoid like a plague. Who were you trying to impress with long hair anyway? Just below your ears was enough for your vanity to still feel feminine.

Rushing now, you felt water force it’s way into your nose when you turned sideways too quickly, causing your lungs to constrict in an attempt to push the water out. You reared back, choking on a cough as you wrapped your hair up in your towel. Whatever you had done was good enough. Wheezing, feeling the water trying to suffocate your lungs, you chose to check your surroundings again, still seeing nothing. Only then did you let the burning in your lungs take precedent, allowing your coughing fit to rage. You rubbed at your throat and nose, trying to let any remaining water drain forward, tears flooding your vision.

After a minute or two, you caught your breath, contemplating how you had survived this long on your own. Sheer luck probably. Speaking of luck…the good thing about being alone is that no one was around to see you nearly drown yourself while washing your hair. You let out a small laugh at that, clearing your rough throat after. Rolling your shoulders you pushed from the ground, scaling the side of the rock once more. Going up was so much easier than coming down.

Thankfully, the hard part was over. Body was washed, hair was washed, and you could go back to your burrow once you washed your pants. That was the plan at least…until you popped your head over the top of the rock and saw three familiar faces up stream where you had previously been. Three familiar faces that were holding your pants. They looked concerned, their hands moving rapidly, though you couldn’t hear a word spoken amongst them.

Just as you contemplated what to do, you saw Anaya jerk his head upwards, straightening his spine to see over Noa’s shoulder. The two of you locked eyes and he immediately hooted and pointed in your direction. Noa turned and Soona leaned forward to see what Anaya was reacting to.

“Echo!” Anaya practically screeched as he ran towards you on all fours.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

You yanked the towel off your head, showing no concern for the few strands of hair that were plucked out with it. You hauled your body up the rest of the way onto the rock ledge, kneeling as you quickly tied the cloth around your waist in a makeshift skirt. Before you could push yourself into a standing position, Anaya skidded to a stop in front of you. You inhaled a breath, shocked by how quick he had reached you. You opened your mouth to greet him, but the ape was moving again before you could blink.

He raised himself up on two legs, starting to circle around you, touching you freely in what you initially thought was a greeting. His hands roamed so quickly over different parts of your body that by the time you tracked one movement he was doing something else. He touched your right arm, then your left shoulder, his other hand pushing your forehead with a finger in order to tilt your head back. Said fingers then began picking up strands of your wet hair and sniffing loudly.

You had just raised your arms up to protest his poking and prodding when his hands left your body all together. He turned then to call to Noa and Soona, “Echo is…alright…not hurt.”

Your face was frozen in stunned silence, slightly irritated but not quite sure how to react to his actions. Then Anaya turned back to you, smiling, “Hello Echo…you don’t smell…hard to track…found your…cloth by creek…Noa worried.”

“Anaya…was worried,” the previously mentioned ape arrived at your side along with Soona. You saw his hands move rapidly in graceful, fluid motions you didn’t understand. Your eyes narrowed in confusion, then you saw Anaya start making gestures of his own back to Noa. It clicked then, this must be their way of communicating without words, having a private argument…if Anaya’s more choppy but forceful gestures were any indication. Soona broke in momentarily, just as Noa had started to make his first sign. Hers were short, broken apart in space but resolute in her movements. There was no room for argument, watching her turn to Noa, seeing him nod a second later before she turned to Anaya.

Anaya’s head lowered to look at you before he nodded as well, turning to blow a raspberry at Noa. Noa’s shoulders seemed to roll as he turned to move, releasing a few disgruntled noises. He didn’t go far, just a few steps away to show his annoyance. Soona seemed to notice this as well, letting out a huff before crouching to be eye level with you. You leaned back then, eyes crossing slightly as you tried to hold her gaze.

“You are…not injured…can stand?” She asked.

“Oh, yes.” You answered, gripping the knot of the cloth around your waist. You slid a foot out in front of yourself to push up into a standing position, but had no time to bare down on it as you felt hands go under your arms.

“Anaya…help Echo…” Anaya offered. You stiffened as you were hoisted upwards, feeling very toddler like in that moment.

You saw Noa’s brow furrow, but he said nothing. Surprisingly, it was Soona that sighed through her nose and huffed at Anaya, “Echo…not ape…does not like…to be touched…all the time.”

Anaya turned to look at you, wanting confirmation. Your continued stiffness and sheepish look was enough for him to quickly let go of you. A surprised scoff noise escaped him then, raising both arms in the air to show his hands were off of you. “Did not know…will not do…again.”

You hummed good naturedly, gripping onto your makeshift skirt even tighter as you found your footing. “It’s alright, I appreciate the help Anaya, but I’ll ask for it in the future if I need it. Okay?”

“Okay!” Anaya hooted, giving a big thumbs up.

The action caught you off guard, something that seemed to be happening more often than not with the apes around. Where did he even learn that? Much like with Noa, you had no chance of fighting off the sputter you let out that soon morphed into laughter that shook your body. Anaya jumped in place at the sudden sound, and while Soona did not take a step away from you, she did tilt her body backwards.

Feeling slightly bad for laughing at Anaya, who clearly had no idea he had done something funny to begin with, you tamped down on the remaining chuckles. Both apes were looking at you like you had a second head, but then you caught Noa’s eye and saw the warmth in his green gaze. You almost thought you could see a curve to his lips, and maybe you were right, because then he started hooting, returning to the three of you and grasping Anaya’s shoulder.

“Why…sound…like that?” Soona asked you then.

You hesitated, not wanting to say the wrong thing and potentially offend any of the apes. Searching for the right words, you finally decided on, “Relief, joy…uh, happiness.”

“Cackle,” Noa supplied. You almost regretted telling him that word when he added, “Echo noise females make…like laugh but better.”

“Definitely…louder.” Anaya said, making the same gesture as before, watching your reaction. Even though you knew he wanted the response, it didn’t stop the whole thing from being funny. You didn’t ‘cackle,’ but you chuckled at the action. That was apparently enough for Anaya, who hooted, looking proud of himself as he swiveled his head from Soona to Noa.

Noa blew a raspberry at Anaya, pushing off his shoulder, “At least…Echo…thinks you are…amusing.”

Anaya dropped his hand then, scoffing as he bumped into Noa, “At least…Echo thinks…something about Anaya…Noa jealous.”

You thought for a moment that was more of a barb than it apparently was, watching the two apes playfully nudge and paw at one another. You side-eyed Soona next to you, who looked unimpressed with her Sunset Brothers, before she shifted to look solely at you. Your pants were clutched in her hand, now outstretched to you. You took them gratefully as the two apes next to you persisted with their back and forth. Soona’s eyes hadn’t left you, and you swallowed your nerves under her stare. You tried to break the tension, shrugging, “Males.”

A pause, you thought she didn’t understand, before she let out a huff, “Yes.”

Her hand nudged your back as she turned away from Noa and Anya, directing you to do the same, “We go…to creek now…leave the newborns…to their games.”

You felt something warm in your chest at that, a contented smile creeping up as you walked her back to your washing spot. A small glance at her eyes showed the mischievous nature she hadn’t displayed with you before, and she hooted under her breath as you walked away from said males who had no idea you were leaving.

A first step had been taken.

Further growth didn’t happen overnight though. You were a little over a month into knowing the apes now, and you were now spending almost everyday with them. It started out as a couple of days a week after that bathing day. It was always the three of them together at that point, before it slowly became an every other day visit. That’s when you noticed some days it would be Noa and Anaya, or Soona and Noa, and then on occasion it was just Noa. The trust he mentioned on that first day was starting to make sense now, as you felt that maybe the other two apes were always there so early on because they didn’t fully trust you yet.

It always started with the creek, a common enough place to find you since you weren’t hiding from them anymore. You always needed to do laundry, get clean water, or fish for the protein your body so desperately needed. From there, the group would discuss plans for the day, or upcoming ceremonies the clan would hold. You made sure to note the when and where of those to avoid the areas that day. Oddly enough, it was only partly for your safety. Mainly, you just didn’t want to get in the way.

Sometimes their plans for the day would get taken over by yours; following you to pick fruit, helping you craft tools from wood or stone, or even go hunting with you. Usually it was for rabbit or squirrel, seeing as you wouldn’t know what to do with a deer even if you had the heart to kill one. Then came the shock of discovering that the apes did occasionally hunt deer and other wild animals too, not just fish. The idea of evolution started to make more sense as you saw the large gap between the species dwindle the more you spent time with them.

Today however, your plans shifted to theirs as the apes discussed traveling on a ‘Caesar Journey,’ as they called it, for lost information. You had been working on a new spear head when they started loudly discussing whether they should leave today or tomorrow. Anaya and Noa both agreed that it was early enough to leave today. Only Soona seemed to have reservations, vague though they were, regarding ‘many unforeseen delays’ that could take place. You had asked where they were going and Anaya had told you they called it the Valley Beyond. It sounded ominous, but when Noa described the path to get there you realized it was an old city.

When you traveled with your mother, you had passed by during the cover of night, staying on the edges of it before settling here. You had not remembered where it had been, only how tired you were as you trailed behind her. After several years of living on this side of the creek, safe in the forest or in your burrow, you hadn’t thought about it since. You only traveled to the vineyard because your mother had taken you there, being on your own meant you didn’t explore as much.

You were shocked when you found yourself asking if you could go as well, even more so when they agreed.

That’s how you now found yourself astride a horse. You had only ridden one once before, blocking out the subsequent memory of it bucking you several times. You eventually had enough, wrapping its luxurious mane around your hand and wrist, determined that if it bucked you again it would be missing some hair for the trouble. It tried, but soon realized it would do more harm than good. When you had reached your settlement you had told your friends and father you would never ride again after all of that.

Looks like fate had a sense of humor, as this horse looked dangerously similar to the one you had ridden all those years ago. Impossible, but it had made you simmer in irritation when Noa first told you that you would be riding with him on his horse. You would have preferred to ride with Soona, or even Anaya, but all agreed that Noa’s horse would be best, something about being familiar with Echo and ape riders. You didn’t really want to know what that meant.

You were surprised that the apes didn’t walk everywhere, but seeing as this journey would be an hour or so on horseback, and time seemed of the essence, it made sense. You had brought a spear with you, which Noa had slung onto his saddle bag, and satchel full of fruit for later. You didn’t have much time to prep before you were on your way, and now you wondered if you should have brought the dagger that you kept under your pillow. You hardly ever used it, but it was a good source of protection and could have come in handy. Then again, the less weapons around the apes, the better. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get that close to anything dangerous anyway.

Speaking of danger, the three horses that composed your group suddenly approached a tunnel, one that went so far into the mountain that you couldn’t see the light on the other end. There was only darkness. You swallowed, Noa taking the lead and going in first. He kicked his heels slightly, urging the horse to pick up the pace. It did as he instructed, shifting from a peaceful walk into a trot.

You slowly straightened in your seat, leaning back to stay within the light for as long as you could, so much so that you soon found your back flush with Noa’s chest. He didn’t comment or react to you, not that you would notice if he did. Once you were completely submerged in darkness there was nothing you could see, whether your eyes were opened or closed. No way to see danger right in front of you…and that thought caused the hairs on your arms to raise, your heart to skip a beat or two. You took a deep breath then, reminding yourself that you didn’t have to be afraid of what was in the dark…your friends were here. Noa was quite literally at your back this very moment.

You decided to close your eyes, to focus on the things you could that didn’t require your eyes. The sound of hooves was the first thing you noticed outside of the pitch darkness, the echoing sound of Soona and Anaya’s horses following close behind. Your heart had calmed and your breathing was steady, similar to the rise and fall you felt of Noa’s chest. The chill of the underground made itself known then, an almost damp cold clinging onto your arms and shoulders. Though you were no longer scared, the skin on your arms pebbled, the hair there already raised from earlier.

It became that much more noticeable when you felt Noa’s arms shift around you, readjusting his hold on the reigns. Heat was radiating from his arms, his whole body actually. The cold threatening to seep into your bones was more prominent, but also held at bay thanks to Noa’s warmth around you. Apes ran warmer than humans didn’t they? Or, was that just the outer layer of their fur?

It was nice.

Before you could think on it too much, you noticed light brightening the backs of your eyelids, prompting you to open them. And just like that, you were out. You released a sigh of relief, sitting up and away from Noa now that you felt safe again. He was kind enough not to mention you clinging to him for comfort as you continued onward. It was probably best that you did not take advantage of his generosity though, making vow to yourself not to do that on the way back.

You almost wished Noa had said something about it though, because with the exception of an occasional joke from Anaya, the ride had been pretty silent. You tried not to dwell on it, normally comfortable in silence, but with that dark tunnel just now, and Noa so close behind you…sitting so long in silence, you weren’t quite able to shake the unease of it all. As if sensing your feelings, Noa decided then to break it, “You ride well.”

You smirked, not quite what you thought he would say, but it was a good way to break the ice. You decide on teasing him to lighten the mood, “Says the ape who wouldn’t let me ride on another horse.”

“You want to ride horse…on your own?” He chuffed.

“Absolutely not!” You were quick to answer. Craning your neck back, almost touching his shoulder again, you explained, “Soona and Anaya are smaller than you, it would probably be easier for one of their horses to carry two riders.”

“Horse makes no difference,” he shrugged, scanning our surroundings. “You are small…easy to fit anywhere.”

No, you were not, you were only slightly shorter than Anaya when he stood on two legs. Again, you reminded yourself, by ape standards you probably were. You didn’t have nearly as much muscle as them, thinking back to when it had taken everything in you to haul Noa up from the creek, but he had lifted you like it was nothing.

You turned your head then, eyebrows scrunching together, “Then why did it have to be your horse?”

Noa smirked, “Easier to keep an eye…on you…if you are in front of me…and easier to make sure…you don’t fall off.”

“Get bucked off, you mean,” you muttered.

“Ape horses…do not buck riders…unless they are afraid,” Noa explained. “Easy to fall off…if you do not know…how to ride.”

You spread your hands out in front of you, “I’m riding just fine, aren’t I ?”

If God was real, he sure had a sense of humor, for in that next moment the horse took off in a gallop. You gasped, looking down as your hand desperately held onto the pommel in front of you. You felt your body start to bounce, fearing you were about to slide right off on a certain bounce. Noa’s arms tightened around you then, grunting, “Rock your hips…”

“What?” You asked, tensing up as another bounce threatened to send you off the left side of the saddle. Only Noa’s quick reflexes, strength, and balance kept that from happening.

“Widen your hips…rock with the motion.” Noa instructed, right hand going under your chin to tilt your head back up, “Look straight ahead…chest up…lean back with the jump…I have you.”

You did as he instructed, feeling more stable until you played back his last instruction. “Wait-wait… jump? What jump? Why are we jumping?”

Noa’s eyes were fixed ahead and that’s when you saw it. At the edge of the city, an abandoned barricade. That was the jump, though your first instinct told you there had to be a way around it, the longer you stared the clearer the picture became. A large pond on one side, a collapsed building on the other…stretching for who knows how long. Jump. There was no other option.

You turned then, noticing Soona and Anaya’s horses were also already in a full galloped sprint. You locked eyes with Soona, who looked just as worried as you felt. She turned to Anaya next to her, making a sign they hadn’t showed you before. Anaya looked up to you then, signing the word Trust at you before letting out several shrieks that sounded like a war cry. They knew what was coming up ahead. You felt your breath stutter as you turned back around, replaying Noa’s words over and over in your mind. You could see the barricade approaching and a count down began in your head.

5…Widen your hips…

4…Head up, look straight ahead….

3…Chest up…

2…Lean back with the jump…

You felt Noa’s right arm relinquish the reigns to wrap firmly around your middle, securing you in place and pulling you to be flush with his chest once more.

1…I have you…

You felt the horse bare down, all its weight on four legs, thrusting itself forward off the ground. Then you were simply suspended in the air. Time seemed to stop, and you wondered if the horse would clear the jump. Similar to that of a deer, you thought perhaps it leapt too early, but as its front half made it over you felt reassured. Then you felt the slight pull of Noa to angle your body back. You listened, the entire movement completed in one fluid motion as the descent forward concluded. The next thing you heard was it’s hooves hit the ground, continuing on in a gallop before slowing back to a trot.

You released the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, panting in Noa’s grip. His hand slid upwards from your middle to tap at your clavicle, “Breathe…you did well…still on horse.”

You looked down, knuckles white on the pommel. You pried them off, not too proud to note the slight tremor. Then Soona and Anaya were joining you to create a row of three, with you and Noa being flanked on each side.

Soona hooted, “Were…you scared?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “I always nearly faint when I’m having a good time!”

All three apes hooted and chuffed their amusement before continuing on. The branches and dirt of the forest had transitioned to asphalt road, making each step the horses took seem twice as loud. You continued down several streets before you finally had the nerve to ask, “What are we looking for?”

“Human work…anything from Caesar’s time.” Noa replied.

Human work? That didn’t make any sense to you, but it was their Caesar Journey. You decided saying silent was the best thing to do. They would let you know when they were going to stop. In the meantime, you decided to try and decipher the ruins of these old buildings, attempting to figure out what they used to be.

A lot of empty panes and broken glass more often then not confirmed it used to be a business. Maybe a bank, or a law firm. Something boring like that. Other places that had faded color reminded you of food or clothing stores. You could make out a few vowels on the signs but didn’t recognize anything specific from any of the photos or old videos you had seen back in the vault as a child.

A sound far off in the distance to your left caught your attention, but you saw nothing there. None of your ape companions reacted, so perhaps it was just your imagination. That’s when you noticed a building unlike any you had seen thus far. It was made of white stone, with an old engraving at the top in gold that had faded over time. Three letters caught your attention, barely able to make them out…but it was enough. You knew exactly what it was.

“Noa, stop! Stop!” You called, twisting in the direction of the road you had just passed, attempting to dismount.

Soona and Anaya’s horses startled but were quickly reigned in by their riders. Noa had a harder time with you as you squirmed, wanting to get down against his wishes. Finally he called out in a huff, “We’ve stopped, stop…will help you down but cannot if…you fall first.”

With a graceful glide to the ground, Noa landed, turning and offering his arms to you. Soona and Anaya dismounted as well, wanting to see what it is that had you so enraptured. It took you a moment to swing your other leg to one side, but once you did you felt ready. Noa allowed you to brace yourself on his shoulders as you dismounted.

Whoa.

Your first step felt weird, causing you to sway slightly. Your legs still felt bowed wide for some reason. Soona covered her face, which you imagined was her nice way of not laughing at you. Anaya had no such reservations, hooting and pointing as he called out, “First time rider wobble.”

You snickered, bending your knees a few times to re-center yourself. Noa huffed good naturedly, “Will get used to it…happens to everyone…first time.”

“Right,” you said, unsure, looking down at your feet. Then you remembered what had caught your attention, and as you took a few more steps towards it, your suspicions were confirmed. “I think this might interest you. This would be classified as human work.”

“What is it?” Soona asked, seeing what you were so focused on.

You smiled, “It’s a library.”

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.05

Your eyes sting as more tears fall from them. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, then pull your knees up to your chest. You let out a shaky breath. Three weeks had passed since Beth died in Atlanta, and since then the group had tragically lost another member, Tyreese. He died when part of the group split off to see if Noah’s hometown of Shirewilt was liveable, and now your group was heading in the direction of DC.

The town was unlivable and full of nothing but rotten corpses.

Most of the group of survivors you were part of were sitting in the middle of the road, but a few of you had gone off to try and search for water and food in the woods. Since your group had hardly any left, everyone was becoming dangerously dehydrated. The group's mood was at an all-time low, and you had barely spoken in three weeks, only when necessary.

You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Daryl says. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.”

If you weren’t still in so much pain from grieving, you would have found the humor in Daryl offering you a handful of worms as a meal. A few years ago, you would have run away screaming if a bug even touched your skin, and now you were getting ready to eat the slimy insects without a second thought. You let him place a few worms in your hand. “Thanks.”

“Beth, never shut up about you.”

You say nothing, and you continue to eat in silence.

—

When you returned to meet up with the others along with Daryl, you found out that someone had left bottles of water further up the road with a note saying ‘from a friend’ but nobody drank out of the bottles in case they were poisoned.

You scrunch your nose up at the smell of burning food. Four hungry dogs had run out from the tree line and onto the road, but before they could attack or run away, Sasha shot all of them, which resulted in the animals being skinned and cooked as a meal. Everyone ate aside from you and Noah.

Noah seemed to be too consumed by guilt to eat, and the thought of eating your favorite animal turned your stomach.

You sit the furthest away from the group by yourself until Carl sits down beside you on a dry patch of grass. He nudges your knee with his elbow. “Hey, I got something for you.”

You look at him through tired eyes and say, “Yeah?”

Carl pulls two bracelets made of yarn out of his pocket; they were covered in dirt, but you could still make out the bracelets were a mixture of blue and purple. “I found these while looking for water in abandoned cars a few days ago; I was just waiting for the best time to give it to you. I remember you saying, you used to make friendship bracelets with your mom for the church fundraiser.”

Your eyes become glossy at the memory of sitting on your bedroom floor hours after your bedtime, making them with brightly colored threads and sparkly beads. You hold the wrist out, and Carl puts the bracelet on before tying the ends into tight knots. “They are really pretty,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Once yours is securely on, Carl holds up his wrist for you to do the same. “No matter where we end up or how alone we feel, we can just look at these and remember that we will always have someone who has our back.”

For the first time in weeks, you smile.

—

Noticing Daryl going off on his own again, you get to your feet and follow him into the woods, being careful not to step on any of the skeletons on the forest floor. Suddenly he stops walking and says, “Not now, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

Beth’s death hadn’t just taken a toll on you and Maggie; everyone else in the group who knew her felt her death too, just in different ways. You walk up behind Daryl and wrap your arms around his waist. At first, you think he’s going to shove you off, but he places his hands on top of yours. Daryl was tough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fragile like the rest of you.

“When we... after the prison... I’m glad Beth was with you.”

Despite his best efforts to hold it together, a heartbroken sob passes his lips.

You stay like that until you feel the first drop of rain hitting your skin. You let go of Daryl and ran back to the highway. Empty bottles were being placed down to collect the rainwater.

A sense of relief hit you; everyone aside from Maggie and Sasha looked happy. You smile watching as Carl takes off his hat and uses it to shield Judith from the rain; she was crying because her clothes had gotten soaked.

Hearing a loud crackle in the sky, you look up and notice the oncoming storm. “Oh shit.”

Daryl points back the way and says, “I saw a barn; let’s go.”

—

Once the barn was cleared by Rick, Michonne, and Maggie, they gave the rest of you the go-ahead to go in. It didn’t take long for a small to be made and any supplies sought out.

“Hey!” Maggie comes over to you, tucking stands of damp hair behind your ear. “It’s been tough, but we’ve made it this far.”

“I know.”

She kisses the crown of your bed and says, “Try and get some sleep.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep. You and Carl chose to sleep on top of some hay, with Judith safely nestled between you. Most of the adults sit around the fire till late into the night until they fall asleep one by one.

Feeling a chill If you sit upright, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Everyone else was asleep aside from Judith, who was wiggling on her back. You make sure she’s tucked up close enough to her brother that she won’t roll away and get hurt.

You approach the barn doors held together by a metal chain. You weren’t surprised it was cold with the rain still lashing down. You step closer to the doors to look out and see what damage the heavy rainfall caused, and between the flashes of lighting, you see walkers coming your way.

Stumbling back, you struggled to form a sentence but managed to scream one word, “Rick!”

When the barn door starts to move, you press yourself against it. Seconds later, Daryl is beside you, then Maggie, then Rick. Soon everyone was pushing their full body weight against the doors, waiting for the storm to pass.