#i think it has a fox on its title

[hydrangea-bouquet]

Have you ever read a fic so good it was life changing and you would recommend it to anyone, even someone from outside your fandom? Like the fic is just so good you think even someone who knows next to nothing about the source material would enjoy it.

[the-kipsabian]

also the ar fox turn got me thimkin about some more potential angst for the belt corruption arc hmm

[highvern]

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.��

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[wileys-russo]

Emily Fox, “So… Do you actually like me—” “We have been together for seven years. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”, while house hunting

house hunting II e.fox

"-and this is the last one for today?" your fiance asked as the real estate agent arrived, parking behind the two of you in the driveway and hurrying out of the car with arms laden full of papers.

"yes the last one for today. but if you're not feeling it we can organize some more for mid next week!" the woman assured, fumbling around to find the keys as you slipped your hand into emilys and squeezed gently.

"i know its been a long day, but this could be the one." you reminded softly as the brunette nodded tiredly, having trained this morning for several hours and then been dragged to six different properties you knew her patience was wearing thin.

"i know, and i know we both want to find the right house so if this isn't the one, thats okay too." your fiance nodded her agreement as you leaned in to sweetly peck her lips as the real estate agent finally unlocked the front door.

"i love you." "i love you more."

you'd both recently gotten engaged which was long overdue, and though you'd lived together for several years now you'd mutually decided that before you started to make wedding plans and a budget, your next step was to buy your first home together.

"-and then this is the master. i just need to make a couple of calls but i'll be right downstairs if you have any questions!" the woman smiled kindly, having given you both the grand tour and stepping away to provide some privacy for the pair of you to talk.

"do you like it?" "what do you think?"

you both shared a look and laughed at your in sync thinking, and you couldn't help the surge of butterflies which fluttered around your chest at the look of the grin on your fiances face.

"i really like it." "it has almost everything we said we were looking for."

again you both laughed speaking in unison, the footballer playfully rolling her eyes as your hand came to cover her mouth with a tut and a shake of your head as she pushed you off.

"close to good schools, not too far from the training centre, big backyard, five rooms, multiple bathrooms, garage which would fit both of our cars-" emily started to list as you nodded.

"-lots of natural light, glass sliding back doors that lead out onto the deck, fireplace, stairs aren't too steep, huge kitchen with an island bench top, great potential for entertaining indoors and outdoors, in-ground pool."

your hands interlocked again as you wandered from room to room upstairs, eventually ending right back up in the master and separating to have a closer look.

"hers and hers closet." you ticked off with your finger making emily chuckle as she followed you inside, the two of you mentally filling the shelves and racks with clothes as a comfortable silence fell between you.

"good size bathroom cabinets." emily made a ticking motion in the air now as you both moved to the ensuit bathroom next, you now laughing before she kissed your cheek and wandered over to inspect the shower.

"but it is just out of our budget." you sighed, your fiance humming and turning around to face you. "but really, we did lowball our budget to be prepared for the wedding." the girl reminded as you nodded, eyes roaming the room.

"and we did agree not to set a date yet because we could wait an extra year if we wanted to." you added on as now emily sighed, your body relaxing as your fiance pressed herself against you, arms circling your waist as her chin found home on your shoulders.

"you did make me wait seven years for a proposal baby, whats another two finally engaged?" you teased, her nose tucking into your neck as her lips softly kissed your shoulder blade.

"girlfriend, fiance, wife, none of those titles make me love you any more or any less. we're building a life together babe, we've been building a life together. this is our decision, nobody else's." the defender murmured, hand coming to rest on your cheek, turning your head slightly so her mouth could meet yours properly.

"i get the top shelf of the cabinets and the left side of the closet, obviously." you pulled away with a nod to the cabinet hearing a scoff behind you.

"and what makes you so sure of that baby?" your fiance questioned, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at you through the mirror in front of you.

"well i just claimed it." you shrugged with a grin, squealing as the brunette pinched your hip and you pushed her off of you. "and if i dispute your claim?" emily challenged crossing her arms as you let out a long and troubled sigh.

"so, do you actually like me or-" you started sadly as your fiance scoffed loudly cutting you off. "do i like you? we've been together for seven years. we're getting married! what the hell do you think?" her eyes rolled making your lips curl up into a smile.

"i think the top shelf and the left side of the closet should be mine, since you like me so much." you nodded matter of factly. "well then i get the left side of the bed, we are not having more than two decorative pillows and-" the girl paused as you raised an eyebrow awaiting her to finish her demands.

"and...?" "and...we buy this house." emilys face softened as her hands found yours, fingers interlinking and tugging you closer as your features lit up with surprise.

"really?" "really."

[leighsartworks216]

By Such A Little Taste

Sylus x fem!Reader

This got so far away from me ngl One minute you're staring at Sylus's hands while he plays the claw machine, the next you're writing 4k words about those hands

Title from "Hooked (Addicted You Might Say)" by Eleisha Eagle

NSFW, smut below the cut

Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

Word Count: 4,085 (Y'ALL 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Which one do you want me to get?”

You look through the glass of the arcade machine. The attendees always make sure to keep it clean from any kids leaving sticky fingerprints on it, so every plushie is on full display. A red fox with a little wintery cape, a hermit crab with an ice cream cone on its back, and a cockatiel with bright red cheeks. You just love looking at them all.

“Do you think you can get the Cone Crab?” You point to it through the glass, without touching of course. “I don’t think I have it yet.”

Sylus smiles down at you. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He inserts the token smoothly, pressing it into the slot with his thumb. You cozy up to his side like you always do, holding his elbow while trying not to restrict his movements. His hand rests lazily on the joystick, fingers relaxed as he adjusts the claw. His fingers occasionally tap thoughtfully against the red top, trying to decide the best plan of attack to get the plushie you so desperately want.

Though, now that you’re here, the plushie is the last thing on your mind.

You’ve always known that Sylus has nice hands. They’re huge, easily dwarfing yours every time you hold them. Sometimes, you even hold onto just a few of his fingers or his pinky, just so your hand doesn’t get too tired. He loves it, too. He loves when you’re curled up into him, playing with his hand, comparing the sizes.

Tonight, though, those thoughts go a little bit further. You think about the way it effortlessly curled around your neck in the photobooth earlier tonight. How his fingers traced along your back when the crowd at the mall got a little too dense for your liking. The way they showed no mercy to Wanderers, yet tenderly bandaged your wounds.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when his elbow gently nudges you. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

Your cheeks burn red hot, as if he could possibly ever know what you were just thinking about. You scoff. “Nothing.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans down to whisper by your ear. You can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he says, “Then, why aren’t you claiming the prize?”

Claiming the- Oh. You jolt away from him, blush creeping up to your ears as you reach down and push open the flap to grab the Cone Crab. You hug it to your chest and determinedly avoid meeting his eyes. You nod into the machine again. “Okay, what about a Snowy Fox? The one I have is getting a little lonely.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you back into his side. “Of course. Try to pay attention this time, sweetie,” he purrs the pet name.

You can feel his muscles shift as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to hold the joystick once more. It’s hardly an issue with how tall he is, but you can tell he’s drawing you in closer than necessary… That being said, you don’t move. No, you just bite the inside of your cheek and stare down the claw like you have a vendetta against it.

It shifts along the top, honing in on a Snowy Fox plushie that sits off to the side. Thankfully, it’s not right up against the wall, or else he wouldn’t even have a chance of getting one without using his Evol. He hums, the sound deep and resonating within his chest right by your head, as he presses the button. The claw descends, loosely “grabs” at the fox’s head, and drops nothing but air into the chute.

Unfortunately, the proximity draws your eyes right back to his hand.

You really try not to keep staring. Really, you try. But it’s a useless attempt at best and woefully futile at worst when he chuckles, staring down at you with that knowing glimmer in his eye after he catches you staring at the prominent veins that run through his hand.

He shifts his hand back so his fingers curl sinfully around the red top as he pushes it forward to hover back over the Snowy Fox he missed just seconds ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips graze the curve of your ear. “I see where your mind is tonight,” he muses.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, he lifts his hand off the top of the joystick until just his fingers, long and practiced, trail along the front as he shifts the crane back a touch. His thumb, coming around the side, shifts it to the left.

“Remember to breathe.”

You jab your elbow into his ribs. He chuckles, standing up straight as he presses the button. The claw comes right down over the fox and finally gets a good grasp on the plushie. You watch it get carried through the air and to the chute. He releases you so you can retrieve it, clutching it to your chest with the crab.

“Would you like a turn now, sweetie?”

You narrow your eyes up at him. He’s planning something, you just know it. But it couldn’t be worse than watching his hands at work. You shove the plushies into his chest. He takes them and steps back. You definitely do not notice, at all, how both plushies fit in just one of his hands.

He slips another token into the slot, arm brushing against yours teasingly. You don’t react. The bear has been poked plenty, you don’t need to rile him up any further.

Eyes on the prize, the Golden Throat, you move the claw so it hovers just over the bird. Mephisto would surely love to play with it. (Even if playing with it meant ripping it to shreds.) The thought eases the tension in your shoulders. With a few minor adjustments, you press the button. And… nothing. The cockatiel falls over onto its side, staring forlornly up at you.

“Would you like some help, sweetie? Remember, you’ve only got one shot left.” He brings his hand around, golden token shining in the dancing lights of the machine as he slips it between his fingers. He holds it up with his thumb, pressing the coin face into the side of his index finger. It’s so small in his hands.

“No, I can do it.” You take the coin from him and jam it into the slot. Your face is scrunched up with concentration as you realign the crane.

You take a little longer than usual to line it up. A warm hand covers yours, engulfing it as his fingers curl overtop yours. “You’re so close, kitten,” he muses. The double entendre isn’t lost on you. “Just a little…” His index slides between two of your fingers, pushing them aside until it nestles at the crook. You feel your face burning again. “There.”

You push the button, too dazed to even check his work. His breath fans across the back of your neck. If the arcade was crowded today, you’re sure you would have been kicked out by now. The winning jingle sounds with a flash of lights.

“Good girl.”

And that’s what breaks you.

You practically push him away so you can grab the toy, not even taking the chance to cradle or admire it like usual. You shove it into his arm while he laughs, taking his free hand to drag him out of the mall as fast as possible.

He’s even worse in the car ride home. One of his hands is on the steering wheel, calmly turning it with just the flat of his hand around corners, or running his thumb in circles over the hardened leather all too knowingly. His other is on your thigh, between your legs, almost but not quite where you need him right now. It takes all your willpower not to guide him there yourself in the middle of traffic.

Once you’ve passed the border into the N109 Zone and he’s recklessly speeding up now that there are no laws to stop him, he squeezes the fat of your thigh. “You’re being so patient, kitten. Just a little further.”

Your sigh comes out shaky and impatient. “You’re still an asshole.”

Sylus just smirks.

You thank your lucky stars that Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen when you get to the mansion. The plushies all haphazardly lay on their sides in the back seat. You can’t think to feel bad for them, can’t think about anything else but the need pulsing between your legs, as you grab his hand and drag him inside.

Once you’re past the threshold, he’s lifting you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You squeal at the sudden shift in perspective, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. His other hand holds your thigh, fingertips digging lightly into the plump flesh, thumb stroking just under the hem of your dress. You kiss behind his ear, along his jaw, bite at his pulse. He nips at the helix of your ear playfully.

As soon as you’re in his room, you’re being laid out on the bed, his hand cradling your neck so you don’t land too harshly. His knees cage your hips as he supports himself over you with one hand. Warm lips slot over yours. His free hand slides under your dress, slowly working it up your body. His touch feels heavenly, igniting every nerve that was already burning on the way here.

The kiss is languid, remaining so no matter how much you try to deepen it. His wicked grin taunts you. “What happened to all that patience you had earlier?” he teases. You bite his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, moving down to bite just under your jaw. “Behave,” he warns. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sits up to fully remove your dress. You’re a vision that would be coveted by the Romans who would think you a goddess of the highest renown. Your chest rising and falling, already panting with desperate need. Your eyes staring into his, begging for more, more, more. Your hands reaching out to grab the hem of his red sweater. He grabs them, securing both wrists in just one of his hands to pin them above your head. He tsks with a grin.

“Not yet, darling. I need to make sure I fulfill all your fantasies from earlier, first.” Your face heats up. You have to look away, turning your head to hide your embarrassment against your arm.

He releases your hands, his own sliding down and reaching under you to undo the pretty lace bra you’d bought for yourself with his black card. He’d teased you about trying it on for him when you got back, having seen the purchase on his phone. It very quickly became one of his favorites. He drops it off the side of the bed with your dress, but leaves your panties on, even as you buck up against his hips.

“Patience, remember?”

You groan pathetically. “Please, Sy,” you beg. “Just touch me, please.”

“I was already planning on it, sweetie.”

He leans down over your body again, keeping himself up by his knees as he trails open mouth kisses along your neck. His hands mirror each other, running down the sides of your ribcage, down to your stomach and back, until they reach your breasts. His mouth seeks out your nipple, sucking, licking, savoring the soft flesh against his tongue. You gasp when his teeth nip at the hardened bud, back arching to press your chest further against his mouth.

A beautiful coating of saliva shines on your breast when he pulls away. It becomes lubricant for his thumb as he rubs slow, teasing circles along your areola, pushing his spit around like paint on a canvas before it finally brushes over your nipple. His other hand guides your neglected tit into his mouth, squeezing rough enough to leave marks as he takes his sweet time tending to you.

His red sweater rubs against your overheated bare skin. The soft fibers scrape over your stomach, tickling you and making your body flinch away on instinct. His pants are no better, acting as a solid barrier between your aching heat and the bulge pressing against you. You try to cant your hips up again, trying to get the friction you need, but his hand lets go of your breast to hold you firmly against the mattress.

Your nipple is released from his mouth with a wet pop, covered in saliva and red markings. His lips find your pulse, leaving gentler kisses over the artery. “I wonder what you were thinking about,” he muses, voice rough with lust. He can feel your heart racing against his lips. He’s tempted to bite down like the vampire from his story, but he settles for sucking a mark into the unmarred skin instead. It sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms, still staying obediently above your head. “Watching my hands… What did you picture, sweetheart?”

The thoughts come rushing in all at once. The beautifully prominent veins on his hand. The way his fingers curled around the joystick. The sinful way he teased your fingers apart while helping you…

The whimper comes utterly unbidden when his fingers trail from your hip to dance across the top of your panties. “Talk to me,” he encourages in a low purr. His fingers curl under the elastic band, slowly teasing one side off of your hip. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face is burning red hot with embarrassment and desire. You always struggle with speaking like this, when he asks you something so simple but so sinful. But you know that he’ll reward you so nicely if you speak up. It’s a dangerous motivator sometimes. “A-At the photobooth, when you wrapped your hand around my neck,” you stutter out.

His eyebrow quirks up with a smirk to match. “Do you like having my hand around your throat, sweetheart?” He lifts his head from your neck, watching as his hand trails from your panties, along your body, over your collarbones to your neck. The way your body twitches with every light brush is addicting. “Do you like knowing…” His palm rests over your trachea, fingers curling around the sides of your neck. “... just how easy it would be for me to… choke you?” He squeezes his fingers lightly for emphasis. He feels when you swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

You nod slightly, biting your lip to fight back the noises he so easily draws from you. Even still, small whimpers emanate from your throat.

His index finger shifts up to rest along your jaw. He turns your head to the side slightly, taking notice of how your eyes flutter shut under his control.

“Oh, does this kitten like to be controlled? Should I get her a lovely little collar?”

The thought alone draws a mewling whine from deep within you. He chuckles, tilting your head back in place with his thumb as he leans down to capture your mouth. He pulls your lip from your teeth, sucking on it until it's beautifully swollen before he kisses you properly. His tongue delves into you, licking into your pliant mouth with deceptive sweetness as he tightens his hold again. He growls when he hears the hitch in your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers, releasing the pressure and rubbing his fingers soothingly along the sides of your neck. “What else were you thinking of, hm?”

His red eyes bore into you so calmly, so naturally. It’s hard to keep looking at him, especially as you fight to answer his question. “How big they are,” you admit.

He smiles. It’s such an innocent remark. He knows how big they are compared to yours, how much you love laying your hand over his just to remind yourself. He leaves his hand on your throat, raising the other one to brush his knuckles along your arm as he seeks out your hand. You curl your fingers between his almost instantly, holding onto him like a lifeline. He turns them over to bring your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “What else?”

You whine, closing your eyes to hide from his stare. “Please don’t make me say it,” you beg.

“Why not?” You don’t answer his question. “Hmm. Shall I guess, then?”

He disentangles from your hand after one last kiss, bringing it to rest in his hair. You dig your hand into the soft locks immediately, like it’s second nature. He kisses your lips softly. The feeling lingers even as he trails kisses down your body once again. Down your neck, over your sternum, taking one detour to bite at your tits. His hand follows in his wake, massaging and caressing your skin.

He shifts to be kneeling between your legs, resting them over his thighs as he reaches your navel. His hand passes him, however, pulling your panties down your other hip. “Am I warm?” His hot breath fans over your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brush sinfully over the edge of the elastic band. His eyes meet yours again.

You nod. His thumb caresses your jaw, a silent praise for answering him. You lift your hips experimentally, worried he’ll push them down again, but his hand slips under you instead, dragging down the fabric over your ass. As more skin is revealed, his kisses get lower. You tug at his hair, trying to push him closer. “Sy, please…”

He hums, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hip. “Hm? What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel like telling me what you were thinking of now?”

You halfheartedly glare at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

His hand glides smoothly over your ass, fingers guiding your panties further down your thighs. Before you can be fully uncovered, he leans down between your legs to kiss your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp sharply, opening wider for him. He makes sure you’re watching when he gathers the material in his teeth and drags them down. You hope you never forget that sight.

He sits back to remove the final piece of your attire, slipping off your heels in the process. You wish you could sit up and tear his clothes off of him, throw them to the side with reckless abandon to expose his body to you. That thought is immediately gone the second you feel his fingers finally dragging through your folds. Just like he mimicked at the arcade to your fingers, he parts your lips until he finds your clitorus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, the rough edges to his voice softening. He kisses your thighs as he gathers up your slick on two of his fingers, groaning at how absolutely soaked you are. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He raises his coated fingers to your lips. You suck on them without question, moaning around them as you taste yourself, as you lick up every drop he gathered until all that remains is your saliva. He presses down on your tongue, choking you gently at the same time until you gag. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, soothing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Your scent fills his senses. All he can think about is how good you must taste, how you’d feel clenching around his fingers and tongue as he ravages you, your heady scent consuming his every coherent thought until he’s utterly drunk on your cum.

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands slide down your body to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider, guiding your calves over his shoulders as he dives in like he’s starving on death row and you’re his last meal. He moans as he licks a stripe up your cunt, swallowing everything you can give him and seeking more. His fingers create divots in your skin as they press down, promising bruises as they tug you closer and closer, until your head is barely on the pillows anymore.

You cry out his name through moans and gasps. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, keeping him firmly against you. He nudges his nose against your clit. Your hips jerk to ride his face and he nearly lets you. Any other night, he would have loved to flip you over so you could sit on his face, use him, ride him, until he’s suffocating in all of you. Tonight, though, he pulls his mouth from your weeping hole to suck on your clit.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. You’re torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, begging him mindlessly, though you don’t know what for. One of his hands releases your thigh to take over where he left off. One long finger pushes slowly into you, easily accepted with how fucking wet you are, dripping slick down his hand. It fucks into you, curling to rub at your g-spot with a professional expertise. His second finger slides in just as easily, creating a steady rhythm that draws you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Tears slip down your cheeks, so fucking lost to the intensity of his attention to your clit. You’re so fucking close already. Air gets caught in your throat, forcing its way out through ragged moans. You can’t even get the words out to warn him. That swell of pressure builds in your abdomen too fast. Your cunt clenches harshly around his fingers, trying to draw them in deeper. Sylus’s eyes watch your face in a half-lidded haze, desperate to catch the exact moment you come undone for him.

Your thighs squeeze his head as your orgasm snaps inside you. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, fingers in a death grip in Sylus’s hair as your cum gushes out of you. He eases up on your clit when you tremble, shaking your head without conscious thought as it becomes too much. His fingers gently ease you through the afterwaves, hand drenched in your delicious slick. When your hands and your thighs relax, he pulls away.

You blearily open your eyes to watch him clean his hand with his tongue. It curls around his fingers, slides up his wrist and forearm to ensure he doesn’t lose a single drop; licks his lips as he pants for air. His eyes flicker to your cunt. Your walls clench around nothing. Your clit is swollen and sensitive to all hell. As much as he would love to go back in, clean you up with his tongue alone, he resists.

He gently lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging your thighs to ease the lingering tension from them as he leans down to kiss you softly, sweetly. All you can taste is yourself on his lips. You comb your fingers through his hair, carefully trying to make up for any pain you may have caused. He sighs into your mouth, completely relaxed with your touch.

It’s you who pulls away first, tilting your chin up to get him to let up. He trails his kisses along your cheek instead. “You still haven’t been taken care of,” you point out.

He chuckles airily. “I assure you, I’ve been well taken care of.” You turn your head so he sees your look of confusion. He sighs as he sits back up. Sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants that is definitely not from you. Your face burns as you look up at him.

“I… You came just from eating me out?” you gape in disbelief.

His cheeks are pink, too, despite the way he playfully shakes his head. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, sweetheart.”

You watch as he gets off the bed to go to the ensuite bathroom. It’s not hard to tell it’s uncomfortable being in his soiled pants, but he gets a wet cloth to take care of you first. You lay back, grinning like an idiot as he tends to the mess you’ve made. “I’m flattered.”

“Leave it alone, kitten.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every single way I can make you cum without touching you.”

“...”

“... Promise?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

[skirter01]

AU: Dukes got a strange new teacher, Jason has a weird neighbour, Dick helped a poor civillian with two broken legs, and Tim's got a bad feeling about the knew Wayne Enterprises employee. Who knew they'd turn out to be the same person? Or... Dannys stuck in Gotham, how, why, when? To be confirmed, although, he's positive its something to do with a certain time-turning asshole. But now he's got bats on his tail and a serious case of the munchies. Good thing Sam and Tucker learned early on to slap a tracker on his phone.

----

Smol Teaser

Dick stumbled forwards, chain rattling around his foot as it pulled taunt. He hit the deck.

“No!”

Duke closed his eyes – and for a moment, he wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d just stayed home like he’d planned to – as Danny descended, mouth split into a feral smile and scythe in motion.

Then, “Bang!”

Dukes’ ears screamed as something exploded, a sonic boom erupting somewhere to his right. A fiery green blast flashed through the air, smacking into Danny like a sledgehammer and sending him hurtling into the concrete pillar in a blast of dust and debris.

Duke took in a sharp breath, eyes fettering over where the teacher landed. His eyes locked on Dick, who was staring over his shoulder from his place on the floor.

“Ha! Bullseye!” Duke startled at the voice and whipped to his right. “I am literally a God.”

Had he been transported to Men in Black right now? Because there was no other explanation for what this was right now. The owner of the voice was a young African American, with neat cornrows and dressed in a suit straight out of MIB, save for the sunglasses which were substituted for a slick pair of black framed glasses.

With a huff, the newcomer hefted an enormous smoking bazooka to rest between his shoulder blade and collarbone. He looked over the room with a grin. “Worry not ladies, knight with shining armour reporting for duty.” He proclaimed with a cheeky grin and a wink, patting the weapon’s steel side fondly, “No, need to thank me. Just doing my job.”

There was a click, and the stranger froze, “Who in the hell are you?” Jason growled through his modulator, stepping out of the shadows to the left of new guy, pistol aimed for a head shot.

The stranger’s eyes slid, acknowledging Jason’s gun from his peripheral. “Sure…” He drawled cautiously, ‘shoot the man with the bazooka. Do it.”

Jason pulled out his second gun. Head titling in challenge.

New guy grinned. “Geez, calm your tits. Names Foley, Tucker Foley.” He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a badge. “FBI”

The FBI?

Jason lowered his pistols. “The fuck is the FBI doing in Gotham?” Duke would like to know the same thing.

Tucker shrugged, “Shits and gigs” he said, dropping the bazooka from his shoulder, and catching its nose on his foot before he propped it up against the closest wall. He swivelled, jabbing a finger over at the downed spectre. “Mostly that troublemaker though. Do you mind if I–actually, why am I even asking you?” He stalked over to the cracked concrete pillar and jabbed at foot at Dukes downed teacher, shifting his lifeless body “Oi, Danny.”

Duke didn’t know how to break the news. “Um, Mr. Foley? He’s not–Well, he was killed by something, we don’t know what exactly. I don’t think he’s–yeah…Sorry.” Ever so eloquently put.

Tucker raised a brow, “Are you trying to tell me he’s dead?”

Duke resisted the urge to point out that this Tucker guy did actually shoot him into the wall with a bazooka. He was dead before anyway, but still.

“Obviously,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms. “Some occult thing.”

“Right.” Tucker’s face twisted into a slight frown, and he nudged the body again. “Danny, stop foxing and get up.”

There was a groan and Duke took an involuntary step back.  

Tucker prodded Danny again. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.”

“5 more minutes.” Danny rolled over onto his side. “M’kay?”

Dick’s mouth was wide open at the scene. “Are you serious right now?”

Danny popped his head up, hair and face covered in dust, his eyes narrowed. “You’d think coming at them with a scythe would scare them off, right Tuck?”

“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” A feminine voice came from the doorway, and a woman stepped into the room. “But please, feel free to be disappointed.” She was dressed in back cargo pants, and a cropped purple tee, dark hair neatly braided down her back. She leaned against the door, “You missed our anniversary.” She said pointedly towards Danny.

Danny dropped his head back to the floor. “Can we go back to when I was just a lifeless corpse?”

Tucker gwuaffed. “You’re already a lifeless corpse, there’s nothing to go back to, stupid."

[alwayscorvus]

Hello! Can I request a Honkai Star Rail and Wuthering Waves crossover with Jiyan? The reader can be of any faction and race you wish. I think a foxian reader, a self-destructor reader like Acheron or a Memokeeper would be interesting. Maybe even a Gallovian. Whatever you think is right, that's right. Thanks in advance 🌻🌻🌻

Once you are gone

memokeeper!foxian!malereader x Jiyan, fluff; warning!faction and "race" kinda reflect in reader's character

It took so frickin' long u probably forgot about it. Sorry. But I have like no time at all. Still thank u very much 4 the request!

And about it… tbh I played in hsr for only a brief while, because I stopped at the beginning of Penacony... (truly unfortunate turn of events) But I searched for help on internet. And after first few informations that I read, an idea popped into my head, so I decided to modify it suitably for a story. Hope its alright

In your life you have visited dozens if not hundreds of places, times and dimensions. You have met thousands of people, explored more than one story, learned new languages, traditions and habits. In the process, you have gained a lot of unique, rich and wonderful memories. However, none of them belonged to you.

You were a memokeeper. You had nothing. You dedicated your entire existence to your almighty Aeon. Your soul, experiences, memories, emotions, feelings. Everything belonged to him.

You were his best memokeeper. You always stole finest memories from most unique universes. You worked long for your title. You wanted to feel appreciated. That's why, once you noticed, that lately no memory had brought your lord to his former euphoria, you knew you had to try harder. Find something one of a kind. Everything for that one smile and few simple words of recognition.

You went on a journey. Where no memokeeper has yet managed to go. Next few worlds and their residents didn't seem really interesting. There was nothing there that your Lord hadn't already seen. But, you weren't willing to give up so easily. After all, you were the best of the best.

In the end, fate brought you to Solaris-3. At first it was a simple miscalculation. But after moments of reflection, you came to conclusion that such coincidences often led to the greatest results. Something was drawing you to Solaris. And especially to Huanglong. That's why you decided to settle there for a longer period of time. You focused your search on possible battlefields. After all, your Aeon gave them his special attention.

However, your focus wasn't drawn to trivial Midnight Rangers. Before you knew it all your attention turned to a certain teal-haired general… Even if it wasn't in your style. By the time you realized, it was too late. You drowned in curiosity. And what's even more surprising, you decided to trust your fox sixth sense.

At first you remained in the shadows. As always.

You watched him from afar. Drank in his view. His smile and gentle voice. You experienced what he did. Got to know him, his surroundings, people close to him and emotions that he showed.

Yet it wasn't enough for you.

You were greedy. You had to taste it yourself.

So you decided to take more advanced steps. And do what you were mostly not in the habit of doing. You decided to reveal yourself.

At first you planned to pretend to be an ordinary local resident. A poor, struggling victim who lost his home and all his belongings in face of war.

However, after a moments of consideration, you pushed that idea back into the shadows. You wouldn't feel right putting yourself in a weaker position than general and your rivals. You had to play a hero in this story.

Now all you had to do was to wait for the right moment. And it came faster than you could have thought.

A group of Midnight Rangers along with a general ran into an ambush. Typical, sunny afternoon. Any attack was definitely unexpected. In the blink of an eye, you jumped in front of Jiyan and covered him with your own body, countering the hit. You dealt a punch that spread destruction and left a deep crack in the ground, decorated with fainted bodies of your opponents.

You hastily turned towards your subject of interest. Jiyan stood there truly shocked with your sudden appearance.

You took a closer look at him. For the first time you had the opportunity to do so.

You saw this spark in his eyes. Full of admiration and fascination. You proceeded to the rescue before he could even react.

A sort of sudden, unfamiliar warmth spread through your body. You felt the need to help him more often.

That's how your relationship began. You were quickly dragged into the ranks of Midnight Rangers and even faster, Jiyan took you in his care.

Now you were able to experience everything he did firsthand. And you couldn't lie, you damn well enjoyed it.

Jiyan quickly took a liking to you. Just as you liked him. If you even knew the meaning of this term. Memokeepers were famous for their manipulative abilities. Extremely necessary when acquiring precious memories. Oddly enough, you didn't need to use them at all. Jiyan liked you for who you were.

At some point you became inseparable. You didn't feel the need to do anything unrelated to general and he neither could nor wanted to chase you away.

The more time you spent with him the more you learned. You even managed to come up with new ideas. Maybe your Aeon was so moody because he needed something different? Instead of war, maybe he should experience some love.

However, there were no candidates in Jiyan's way. And you also didn't feel right with the idea of some stranger messing with general's heart. No one seemed suitable. So you decided to "sacrifice" yourself for the sake of this matter.

Few flirty comments, innocent brushes of hands.

Yet, you needed something more. You needed to create some kind of special memory.

It was one of the coldest nights of an entire year. You stationed in some remote area.

As you walked through narrow paths, between a shabby tents, you heard chattering of teeth. Pitch-black night got illuminated by lone stars and shyly sparkling campfires. Excluding a few tightly wrapped sentries, on your way you didn't come across any living soul.

You reached to the edge of a camp. Jiyan never liked to set up in the center.

You looked around awkwardly. There was no door, no way to knock. You weren't sure how to alert of your presence. But rushed by the cold, you began to call out a name of your general in a loud whisper.

Fortunately, awkward moment didn't last long and man heard you. Jiyan poked his head out of a tent. Sleepy eyes, messy hair. He looked so… vulnerable. He was completely unlike his highly, awe-inspiring general's self. Truly adorable. But you shook off these thoughts in panic.

-Can I come in?-you asked with a devious smirk.

And Jiyan, not yet fully aware of what was happening, only nodded his head and stepped back, thus letting you in.

Closing a tent behind you, you cut off all access to light. In small space you were able to find your way quickly. In the dark, you took off your shoes and, together with Jiyan, placed yourself in the middle of warm furs and sheets. Although Jiyan had never had you inside his tent before, it seemed so natural for the two of you. All those times when Jiyan accidentally fell asleep on your shoulder during long war planning… It added up to one thing.

Hearing a sluggish shuffling, you imagined Jiyan shyly approaching you as he sent you a pleading look. You bit your lower lip in desperation. You really wished you could see that right now.

You slowly raised your hand higher, tracing man's face. Gently grabbed his sharp jaw and pulled him towards you in a confident motion, placing his head on your chest. You felt as general's body relaxed.

You covered him with a thick layer of furs. Left one arm on his hip, when other began to soothingly stroke his hair. Cold slowly faded away in cozy atmosphere and comfort of each other body. Still, you couldn't help but notice Jiyan's gentle shivering. He was freezing. Yet it was you who just got back out of air. You squeezed him tighter. Twisted gently from side to side, releasing your tail, which hurriedly wrapped around Jiyan. General breathed a sigh of relief as he snuggled tighter into you. You knew he liked your tail. Although he never dared to touch it, considering it your private space. He sent it plenty of sneaking glances.

-When are you leaving?

He suddenly broke the silence and you froze.

-How-?

-That's easy to notice. When I talk about plans for the spring you look away. When I ask about your past you avoid the subject. When boys beg you to become their mentor, you turn it into a joke. It all adds up. I am not blind.

Pleasant atmosphere got taken over by a tension. Strange thrill of adrenaline set in your body. You clenched your teeth and hugged man tighter. You didn't know what to say.

-So?

-You can't wait for me to be gone, that much? - you couldn't stand the pressure so you tried to dismiss the subject.

Jiyan shook his head in denial.

-I don't want you to leave at all.

He answered sincerely and turned his face towards you, hoping that despite the darkness you could see his confident look and take his word for granted.

Your heart began to beat faster and you truly started to worry. You had never experienced anything like this. But you felt a sudden urge, to provide Jiyan's safety, just as you did during the ambush. Your instinct told you that you had to reassure him that everything would be fine.

Without much thought, as if guided by your inner self, you lifted your head and placed a gentle kiss on top of man's head.

-I'll be back, I promise - you swore.

It hurt you a lot, but he was right. You had to leave. You hadn't been in your home for long enough. Though you weren't sure anymore if you were still able to call that way a place by Aeon's side. You started to arrange in your head what would you say to Aeon.

But whatever your explanations might be, one thing was certain:

You will keep this memory only for yourself.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]

Title: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]

Synopsis: The door doesn't lock, and he still wants you to let him in.

For Horrorfest request: trying to hide from a wolfman but the door wont close

Word count: 600ish

notes: yandere, non-graphic mentions of violence, implications of possible sexual assault

“Oh, please.” The words bubble from your chapped lips like a prayer. A desperate one, the kind you would whisper like a mantra as a child, eyes squeezed shut, on those nights that you were suddenly sure you wouldn’t wake up. 

Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-keep. 

If-I-should-die-before-I-wake-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-take.

But there’s no use praying to the wolfman on the other side of the door.

No use at all. 

His breath is loud; you imagine how hot it must be against the door. What it must smell like: primal, like the rest of him. He pants in great short huffs from the running he did–the chasing, more like.

Chasing you from the hiking trail all the way into your little cabin (he burst through the front door, broke the lock clean off); down the hall, into what had been your bedroom for the past week.

Only there was no lock on the door–it won’t even close all the way, thanks to the faulty hinges. And there’s nothing heavy enough to put in front of it, nothing you’re strong enough to drag.

Nothing at all you could do but brace your shoulder against it, even though you saw the wolfman break the heavy lock on the thick front door of the cabin like it was nothing. 

So you know, without a hint of a doubt–

The only reason he’s not inside right now is because he’s waiting for you to open up, like a good little thing, like Red Riding Hood smiling brightly at grandmother before she gets oh-so-close enough to see the points of her sharp teeth. 

“Open the door,” he says, in a voice that is not very sweet. “Open the door, and let me in.”

There’s a sound against the wood. Scratching. A claw–his claw, he has no hands but paws with nails so sharp you’re sure they will gut you easily–dragging down the wood.

You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is press your shoulder feebly against the door, knowing he’s on the other side, knowing all it would take is a shove to have you on the floor and the door swinging off its loose hinges.

How did he find you? How long had he followed you? It all falls into place, here, on the other side of the door. The unusual footprints around the cabin. The ripped up flowers left at your door, topped with a dead mouse. The sounds in the woods--the snapping, the breath you thought had been a fox or perhaps, a lumbering raccoon.

It was him, and now--

“Open the door,” he says to your silence. Louder and lower, and you catch the sound of spittle in it. He won’t be patient for much longer. You have to make a choice.

Your heart pounds so hard you can hear it. 

He can, too. 

“Open the door,” he says, for the final time. “Or I’ll–”

Huff-and-puff-and-blow-your-house-in.

“Please don’t,” you squeak out, sounding like the prey that you are. “I’ll–-I’ll open it.”

It takes longer than you expect to force your body to move away from the door. It doesn’t want to move. It knows what’s going to happen, even as your brain whirs and whirs and tries to guess. 

He could eat you. Tear you to pieces, gobble you down like dinner. He could–he could–but oh, you know, there are worse things than being eaten.

Worse things are what you think about when he pushes the door, which half-falls off the broken hinges, and stands in the now-empty frame. 

He smiles, and his teeth are very sharp. 

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[zhongrin]

with you...

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, tighnari, wanderer

◇ tags ◇ fluff, slight angst in zhongli’s i’m sorry i couldn’t resist, childe’s is a little suggestive

◇ a/n ◇ i am so down bad for zhongli (but yall probably know this already huh)

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

…. zhongli knows he could dress in rags and you’d still call him handsome. you’ve called him a variety of names and titles - sweet and silly ones, sensual and sultry ones - and he adores them all, adopts them as part of his identity as the mortal being that is zhongli, and refers back to you with the utmost reverence. he knows he need not resent his former names nor his more brutish appearances, for you’ve seen them past their monstrosity and still sees something beautiful in all of them. you’ve shown him how you’ve embraced him in his entirety; his past and his present, and his future.

with you, he can’t wait to experience your life together.

(- yet he knows every journey has its end, and so he promises himself that he’ll appreciate you every step of the way)

…. al haitham knows he doesn’t need to sugarcoat his words. you already know that he’s straightforward and blunt with his remarks and intentions, yet still, you choose to be with him. it’s not that he can’t “read the room” or “be a little more attentive”; he just doesn’t think he’s fit for the job if praises and reassurances that can barely hold any water are what people want in those situations. he also knows that you understand the nature of his job without him having to spell it out for you; he likes that he can talk or grumble about all the darkest secrets of the akademiya along with all of its forbidden secrets, and you would store it in your memory in a drawer where only he has the key to unlocking them.

with you, he doesn’t need to hold back - be it his words, his secrets, or his love, he knows you’ll accept them all and treasure them gently within your arms.

…. childe knows he can trust you with ajax. the lonely, repressed, forced-to-grow-up-far-too-soon ajax. gone is the fearsome and bloodthirsty eleventh harbinger; every time he sees you, he feels like he’s a child all over again, seeing his favorite toy and snuggling into the comfiest blanket that smells like home. he knows you would indulge his every request, from a head pat to a full-on embrace that lasts for the whole day. from a bite of the cake you’re having to a whole ten-course meal. from a little peck to a make-out session that turns into something more… you continue to spoil him despite your nagging and little exasperated huffs. he thinks it’s very very cute and endearing. sometimes tartaglia thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but ajax has already forgotten a world without you and firmly refuses to let you go with that childish mentality of his.

with you, his haven, childe knows he could be in touch with his child self and be as selfish as he wants in reveling within your love, because it seems like you’ve already long since made your home in his heart and won’t be leaving anytime soon, much to his delight.

…. tighnari knows he can fully indulge in his baser instincts and you’ll let him. you might complain, but your words won’t have any bites on them and your body will support him to let him take as much as he needed. his nesting behaviors should be an oddity in normal humans’ eyes (he can’t help stealing your clothes because the smell of his mate comforts him and helps him sleep, okay, get your mind off the gutter), yet you tell him he’s adorable and ask him if you can join in. the little fangs in his mouth should be something people are wary of (they’re made for rip and tear upon intimidation, a tool made to fight against danger), yet you tap on them whenever he bares his teeth and tells him his ‘little fangies’ are cute. you’re such a weird lummox. and tighnari loves this weird lummox so, so much.

with you, he sees a mate and a partner for life, and while fennec foxes don’t normally enjoy cuddles, he supposes he can make an exception.

….. wanderer knows he can trust you to pull him back to where he needs to be whenever he’s lost. you’ve always been meddlesome and kinder than you should be with scaramouche, and even with his new identity you’re just as nosy, and he’s grateful for it. you know not to take him seriously when he’s just acting like he doesn’t want you around, but you know to put your foot down when he tries to push you away because he’s starting to doubt himself all over again. he knows he’s not the best lover out there - hell, he’s pretty convinced that he's the worst lover in all of teyvat. but you... you stick with him regardless. you pinch his cheeks and kiss his forehead and do all the things that somehow manage to make him blush. he might not be the best lover on teyvat, but he knows that you are. so he’ll keep trying his best, just for you.

with you, his captivating dancing doll, maybe the soldier doll has managed to form a heart before it could burn to ashes after all.

— with you, i know i am where i belong, and i know that i am safe and loved.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Intensity, implications) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***NOTES: Finally a chapter with a decent length. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me along this story’s journey. I would love to hear more from you guys, what you think of the chapter, or any predictions for what might happen! Tagging @imaginarydreams

Chapter 7: At Odds

You

It wasn’t long after Noa left that you found sleep again. It wasn’t completely restful though, odd dreams and quick flashes of memory plagued you until you woke up once more. You sighed, eyes cracking open to steal a glance towards the opening by your fire, noting it was barely dawn, the cool blue tone of morning still reflecting along the sides of the rock. You closed your eyes again, wanting just a little bit more time, hoping that if you went back to sleep now it would be dreamless.

You blamed the visions on your conversation with Noa, reawakening thoughts and feelings you buried a long time ago. You knew whatever peace you found last night wouldn’t last, but even you had to admit this was a little too soon. You heard a faint scratching of rock next to you, and you groaned internally. Bringing your hands up to rub at you eyes, you wondered if a bird had gotten in.

You turned your head, suddenly coming face to face with brown eyes, auburn fur, and white teeth. Your own eyes widened, frozen in place as you stared at the predator in front of you. It’s body was lithe, crouched in a position that suggested it was ready to either leap or dash away. Your eyes focused then on its mouth, open but not snarling or frothing. No rabies then, but not necessarily a non-threat. It was studying you just as you studied it, each of you waiting for the other to move.

You slowly placed a hand on the edge of your bed, the red tail fox sniffing and inching closer as you did. This surprised you, having come across foxes before and never experiencing this level of naïve curiosity in them before. In the past, they had let out a horrendous screeching noise before dashing away into the woods. Your mom had loved the creatures, saying they reminded her of domesticated cats that used to roam free when she was a child. She never explained what happened to them, only that they no longer existed. She had modeled your shelter after the foxes’ homes apparently, which also explained why she called it a burrow. The engineering was smart though, having two different ways of getting in and out, one obvious, the other hidden in case of a predator cornering you.

The fox paused as you tentatively pushed yourself into a sitting position, its eyes lingering before darting to the left. You looked then to the ledge a foot away from you. The half eaten salmon that Noa gave you, still wrapped in the leaf, sat there cold and untouched. The fox was hungry…and desperately so if it was willing to get so close to you. You leaned over hesitantly, not wanting to spook it, and grabbed the fish.

It whined then, almost sounding like a laugh as it swayed left then back right. That’s when you noticed the protruding ribs. Foxes were meant to be thin, but not that thin. Its mouth opened in another whine, tongue lolling out slightly as it raised its paw only to put it back down exactly where it had been. You chuckled, looking at the fish in your hand, then to the fox. It was waiting patiently. You leaned forward, ready to spring back if it decided to lunge at you instead of the volunteered meat. It sniffed at the offering in your hand, head inching closer before snatching the fish from you. It paused a moment, as if surprised how easy that had been, then spinning around and scurrying towards your entrance. It stopped again, looking back at you once more, before squirming it’s way through the crack between the rock and cave wall, dashing away into the woods.

You let out a breath in surprise, wondering if that had actually happened. You didn’t need to pinch your arm, the ache in your shoulder reminding you that you were in fact awake. Then you wondered if its burrow was somewhere nearby, surprisingly not concerned for yourself, but for the creature. It seemed so hungry, and you were aware there was not a lot of small game in the area. The sickening thought that you might be over hunting the woods of what little game there was, made your stomach drop.

You looked to your makeshift kitchen…no more meat. There were only two baskets of fruit remaining, and normally today you would go out and hunt for rabbit or squirrel before meeting the apes. You breathed in deeply, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up from your bed. You would need to wash your sheets tomorrow during bathing day...and also remember to wash the blood from your forehead. Until then, you grabbed an apple, your spear, and fishing line, deciding to get your day started.

The salmon had been good last night, at least until your stomach tried to reject it during your emotional trip down memory lane. You usually didn’t eat it, knowing the apes frequently visited the creek and fish was part of their food supply. Now that you had built a relationship, if you could call it that, with three of them, you decided now was the best time to include more fish in your diet. It wouldn’t kill you to eat fish and fruit for awhile, instead of squirrel and rabbit.

Something fluttered in your heart then as a passing thought rocketed through your mind. If you happened to have an extra fish, and the fox came back, it would be such a shame not to feed it. Waste not, want not and all that. The apes had their eagles after all, so inter-species companionship wasn’t inherently a human trait. If you could befriend an ape, why not a fox? At least, you wanted to try.

Your time with the apes, while new and strange, recently reminded you of just how alone you were. You relied on their persistent presence now, dreading days you knew you wouldn’t see them. You enjoyed living alone, but not necessarily being alone…to be the only living thing in a space was unnerving sometimes. Solitude was a blessing and a curse in that regard. You could never domesticate an Eagle like the apes…but a fox? Maybe. As you squeezed yourself through your entrance, huffing slightly from the effort, you made your way towards the creek. Might as well get there early and work on dinner before the apes came to learn.

You were reminded then of the books, knowing you hadn’t seen them in your burrow last night or this morning. You recalled Noa placing them into his satchel before the boar attacked, hopefully they were still with him. It was Noa after all, he seemed to think of everything. You groaned then, vividly reminded oh how the two of you had parted last night. You had been flustered and slightly awkward, which caused you to flush from embarrassment all over again. What exactly had you even been thinking at the time?

Noa was a friend, an ally if nothing else. His touch last night was nothing more than an attempt to soothe you after an emotional moment, but something about it had left a lingering impact on your senses. You recalled every second of that exchange in vivid detail, to the point you could almost still feel the warmth of his hand on your body now. You shook the thought from your head, reminding yourself about the truth behind his touch. It was to comfort, and to serve his own goals. He told you as much, wanting to make you more comfortable around apes in the future. You couldn’t deny that, he even said he wanted to build off the fact his touch didn’t bother you.

At the time, your mind had been too muddled to really think about his words, but now? His frequent touch may shock you, surprise you even if you’re unprepared, but you agreed it didn’t bother you. You had to admit, if only to yourself, all the times you’ve flinched from it, it’s never been in disgust or a desire to get away from him. It hadn’t been, not since that first day. He wasn’t Gol, and you were very aware of that. The day you two met he had been gentle with you, reassured you, and though it had scared you at the time, he had protected you. He didn’t know you, but he had been willing to throw his body over yours so you wouldn’t get hurt. Noa’s touch was protective and gentle, and that’s why you flinched from it.

Now, because you responded after he showed you that same gentleness and kindness, you were worried about facing him. All you really did was hold his hand! How ridiculous was that? Maybe Noa was right, maybe you were jumbled. At the very least, you were hungry. You took a bite of your apple then, the juice dribbling down your chin. You wiped it away, noting that you were already off to a fantastic start as a teacher. You forgot about your books and you were scared to face your students. Then there was the glaring issue, that you had never had to teach anyone anything before. You had always been the student, and swapping roles made you nervous. You wanted to be a good teacher, hoping to be patient and well spoken as you explained how the English language worked. The apes were quick learners and highly intelligent, so that would certainly help you. And, in all fairness, how hard could teaching adults really be?

…

Surprisingly, it was easier than you thought. Teaching the trio words using the alphabet as association had been simple enough, even if they never heard of the animals in the book. Explaining a lion to the apes took longer than you would have liked to admit, same went for a tiger. You had to promise to get a book on zoology the next time you went to the library before they agreed to focus back on the lesson.

It wasn’t until the third lesson a week later that you realized your mistake. They were learning words, but the individual letters? Not so much. Forming individual syllables seemed to be hard for the apes, Anaya more so than Noa or Soona. At least, that’s what you thought up until right now.

“Wait,” you stopped Noa’s reading mid phrase. You leaned over his shoulder, pointing to a specific line in the middle of the page, “Read this line right here.”

Noa was uncharacteristically shy now. You saw his eyes scanning the words at the top, mouth twitching in phantom movement. You groaned, slightly impressed by his ability to trick you as you accused, “You memorized the book the last time I read it with you, didn’t you?”

Noa’s mouth pulled into a thin line, sniffing once, “Too simple, easy to remember.”

You sighed, “That’s not the point Noa. That’s not reading, that’s memorization. I can’t go around reading everything to you first. And neither can Soona.”

Soona was the star pupil between the apes, putting in the hard work to understand the individual letters. She had already finished her first book, and was starting on her second. She was saving Stellaluna to read to you on her first go, wanting instead to start on Anaya’s books after she finished this one for more practice. You thought that was odd, but if that was her goal you weren’t going to tell her she couldn’t do it. It was rare she asked for your help, choosing to use the Learning Your ABC’s book as a comparison as she sounded out words. You had to admit, her technique was far superior to anything you came up with when learning to read as a child.

She hooted her amusement at your scolding, “Would not help Noa…if he asked anyway….same teacher…same books…can learn himself.”

Noa huffed, flipping the book closed before turning away, “Choose another book…know this one.”

You raised a brow, picking up the book and opening it to a random page, “Are you telling me you can’t read this because you’ve memorized it that quickly? What if I point at individual words?”

Noa hesitated, “Still will remember…you reading it…not on purpose.”

You ran your hand through your hair then, placing the book on the rock a few feet from you. This time last week you thought keeping yourself focused on teaching around Noa would be your biggest struggle. That, or keeping him focused. When he was determined there was little you could do to distract his mind, and you feared he might want to work on building up your tolerance to ape touch instead of learning to read. Thankfully, that had not been the case. Unfortunately however, he had been so determined that he remembered everything you read or showed him. It wasn’t necessarily a bad problem to have, he had certain words memorized, but it did produce the challenge that he could not replicate Soona’s success. He tried to fill in the blanks instead of actually breaking down the words and sounding them out.

You took a deep breath, turning to glance at Anaya now. He was struggling with the first page of his book still. He could understand vowels, but had a hard time grasping the sound of consonants. Much like Noa, he could memorize a word once he heard someone speak it while reading, but had a hard time hearing the sounds on his own. Maybe putting them together would lead to better results?

“Anaya,” you called softly. When he looked up, you motioned him over to where you and Noa sat, “We’re going to do some group work, can you come over here and sit next to Noa? Bring your book too, please.”

He looked absolutely miserable, half walking half dragging himself over before plopping down next to his Sunset Brother. Noa noticed his defeated look, hand coming up to clasp his shoulder, but Anaya shrugged him off. He curled into himself more, crossing his arms and letting his head rest on top of them before sighing. You truly felt bad for him, giving a small thumbs up as you asked, “Are you okay?”

Anaya looked to you, eyes darting towards your hand before returning to your face. He shook his head then, looking away as he signed, Anaya stupid.

“Hey!” You said a little more sternly than you probably should have. Both apes in front of you stared with surprised eyes, silent as you continued, “You are not stupid. Don’t call yourself that again. You’re learning, and yes, it’s going to take time and it’s going to be frustrating, but I know you. You can do this, Anaya.”

Anaya, apparently still not up for words, signed, Soona not frustrated. Soona learn fast.

You gave Anaya a half smile, “Don’t compare yourself to Soona. Everyone is different, everyone has different strengths and weaknesses. Look at me, I can’t jump or climb like any of you can. I can read, because I learned at a young age, but I can’t fish half as well as you Anaya. Soona can braid and weave baskets, because she learned at a young age, but she can’t leap as far as you or Noa. And of course Noa, he uh…”

As your gaze turned to said ape, you lost your train of thought. He was looking at you again, the same way he had that night in your burrow. Those intensely green irises reflected warmth and sincerity that froze the very breath in your lungs. Thankfully, Anaya picked up where you left off, admitting, “Noa…is…good leader…cares for Eagle Clan…but thinks too much.”

Anaya hooted as Noa’s head jerked sideways to glare at him, letting out an offended huff. You chuckled, grateful for the distraction so you could catch your breath. “See? Strengths and weaknesses. No one started out good at any of those things though, they had to learn and grow into it. Just don’t give up so soon, okay?”

Anaya gave you a half smile and a thumbs up, mumbling, “Okay, Echo.”

Soona had remained silent during this exchange, seated under the tree behind you, but grunted now to get your attention. You turned then, seeing her arm outstretched with the Learning Your ABCs book. You leaned over, taking it and signing Thank you before returning your attention to the male apes in front of you. To say you were at a loss for what to do was an understatement. You imagined Noa memorized the alphabet the same way he did his other book, so you weren’t sure how this would be much help. You ran a hand through your hair once more in frustration, kneeling on the ground in front of the apes and beginning to draw in the dirt with your finger. You had one idea that might break through some barriers.

They watched your scribbling with curiosity. You held your breath as you studied the upside down letters to make sure they were right for the apes. You pointed to Anaya then, handing him the book, “Anaya, I want you to use this like Soona does. Try to read what I’ve written, and if you can’t remember a sound, find the letter in the book and use the example.”

Anaya nodded as you pivoted over to Noa, doing the same thing for him. His word was relatively easier to write upside down, and you hoped making it personal for the two apes would bring out their desire to learn again. You wiped your hands on your pants once you were done, “Noa, this one is yours. Same thing, try to figure it out.”

You scooted over to Anaya then, who was staring at his word in confusion. You leaned into him, gently nudging his shoulder, “Sound it out. One letter at a time.”

Anaya pointed, “ A. A. A…sounds like aaaaaape.”

You giggled, “Okay, that’s a start. What about the other two letters?”

Anaya huffed, frantically turning pages in the book, “N…nest and…Y…yarn.”

“Very good,” you smiled. “Now, put all the letters together. Try to sound them out. If they don’t sound right, remember that vowels have a big sound and a little sound.”

Anaya had a few false starts before pushing out, “A…NA…Y..A …that does not sound…like a word.”

You pointed at the first A then, “Okay, so let’s try changing the sounds. Instead of ape, what else can this sound like?”

“Apple,” Anaya immediately supplied.

“Yes!” You encouraged, “Now, try it again until it sounds right.”

You saw the wheels in his head turning, mouth moving over the syllables until you saw the dots connect. Anaya looked up at you then, pants of air followed by hoots as he stood from the ground. You smiled as he pointed to himself, swaying back and forth, “Anaya…is Anaya…my name…is my name!”

“That’s right!” You cheered.

Anaya seemed in brighter spirits at least, pacing back over to Noa and his word. You hoped that Anaya hadn’t given away Noa’s own word by cheering for his success. You watched as Noa seemed puzzled by the letters in front of him. You crouched down to his level then, “What are you struggling with?”

“Thought…it was my name…but now…not sure.” He grunted.

“You thought?” You asked, confused. It was his name, what was he not understanding?

Noa pointed at each letter then, making the big sound for each one, “N…O…A…H…NoAHa….does not make sense.”

“Oh,” you said, understanding his confusion. “So, same thing with Anaya. A does not always mean A. Remember big sounds and little sounds?”

He tried it once more, but still curled his lip at the end. He kept putting a small A at the end of the H. You tried to breathe out an example of what an H sounds like, but when he tried to copy you it still came out as Ha. You reached for his hand then, bringing it closer to your mouth as you explained, “No, you’re going too hard on the H. It’s not a war cry. You’re going, Ha, like there’s an A on it. I need you to say it softer, breathe with it. Like this.”

You breathed out several quick H sounds onto his hand. You locked eyes with him, but he looked even more confused as he stared at you. Sitting up straighter, you angled his hand, turning your head slightly so you were sure he could see your mouth. You held his gaze, pointing to yourself with your free hand as you said, “Watch my lips, feel my breath at the end. NoaH… NoaH… NoaH.”

You breathed and put emphasis on each of the H’s, watching Noa tense on the second pronunciation of his name. On the third, you noticed him lean away from you, the hairs along his neck and shoulders raising. When you were done, silence engulfed the four of you. Noa looked more than confused now, while you could only guess Soona’s expression since she was still at your back, and Anaya’s head swiveled between Noa and you with a slack jaw. For a moment, you worried you had done or said something weird in their language from the way they were reacting.

You let go of Noa’s hand then, which remained suspended in the air a second or two longer, before it dropped into his lap like dead weight. You looked between the trio then, finally having the guts to ask, “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Everything seemed to happen at once then. Soona screeched in laughter, startling you as you jerked around to look at her. She was holding her stomach, as if it physically hurt her to laugh, which in all fairness was a rare occurrence for her. You heard a Thud then, turning away from Soona to see Anaya on the ground, rolling around as he hooted and pointed at you. Or, at least you thought he was pointing at you.

A low rumble came from Noa’s chest, and while it should probably have concerned you, you had a feeling it wasn’t directed at you. In fact, Noa wasn’t even looking at you now. Anaya shot up then, hobbling on all fours to be next to Noa, signing so rapidly you couldn’t keep up. Soona’s hooting, which started to die down, seemed to come back with a vengeance at whatever Anaya was saying. Noa attempted to look away from Anaya, but the chimp leaned his body around his shoulder to continue whatever he was saying.

Finally, Noa tried to swat away Anaya’s hands, who did not stop his signing, skillfully dodging Noa’s attempts. Noa leaned over, trying to cover his hands now with his own, but once again, Anaya was too quick. He rolled sideways, shuffling over by you, hooting in amusement as he slowed his signs, allowing you to catch a handful of words.

Noa…upset…Echo…private…learn…happy…

You opened your mouth to ask what you were missing when Noa, in a tone you had never heard him use, something between a growl and a yell, boomed, “No!”

All three of you had the same reaction, freezing as muscles grew tense and silence struck you like an arrow. You couldn’t see Soona’s reaction, but you saw Anaya crouch low and duck his head in submission. You felt your breath come in harsher as your heart rate spiked, eyes wide as you stared at Noa in confusion and unease. You must have done something wrong after all. He was taking deep breaths through his nose, something he only did when he was irritated, and after that yell…you decided it was best if you apologized.

You found the courage to open your mouth again, snapping it shut when Noa raised his hand to halt you. His eyes locked on to yours then, nostrils flaring now as he continued to breathe deeply. Anaya’s left arm was placed in front of you then, his body leaning forward and pushing himself out of his submissive stance, closer now to Noa than he had been. He signed with his right hand, phrases you couldn’t see as his shoulder blocked your line of sight. You twitched in surprise when Soona’s hand landed on your left shoulder. You looked up, seeing a determined look in her eye that matched Anaya’s while standing behind you. It didn’t seem like they were challenging Noa…but there was a warning there you couldn’t decipher the cause of.

Everything felt too tense, and you couldn’t understand what you could have possibly said in their language to garner such a reaction, but you filed it away to never do again. Noa’s eyes darted between Soona and Anaya, looking uncomfortable, using his mouth to release quick gusts of air, before you heard his breathing start to return to its normal rhythm. He looked away from the three of you then, staring down at his name in the dirt. You brushed Anaya’s arm aside as you said, “I’m sorry Noa, if what I did ‘upset’ you. It was not my intention. I won’t do it again.”

You copied the sign that Anaya made for ‘upset’ as you apologized, pulling Noa’s attention back to you in that moment. He flinched when he saw the sign, looking concerned before shaking his head, “Not…upset.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, feeling that the opposite was true. Noa used the back of his hand then to roughly swipe at the dirt in front of him. Looking down, you saw the H had been wiped away. Noa pointed to each letter as he read, “N…O…A…my name…Noa.”

You smiled again, “Alright, Noa with no H. It was mainly silent anyway. At least now you know what your name looks like.”

He hummed in response. Soona tapped your shoulder then, apparently she also wrote in the dirt. You turned, seeing her spelled out S O O N A in clean strokes on the ground. You smiled at her, leaning to nudge your shoulder with hers, “Very good. I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled back, writing another word before underlining it.

M A L E S

You snickered, causing the other two apes to rush over and see what she had written. Noa and Anaya both sounded the word out before saying it out loud. You were surprised, watching as they pointed at each other. Apparently, friendly competition was a good incentive. You tucked that away for later as well.

Noa turned to you then, “Your…name?”

You sighed, trying not to look bitter as you scrawled your name in the dirt. The letters stared back at you, almost mockingly. You hadn’t seen your name spelled out in so long, and even though Noa said it recently in the library, it was hardly ever spoken anymore. It was as temporary as it’s dirt form, only here as long as you made sure it was.

Speaking of Noa, he stood over your shoulder now, staring intently at the letters. You shuffled to your left as he leaned over to trace the pathing of your letters with his own fingers. He let out a low hum in thought, concentrating as he began to replicate each one below your original markings. He took his time, saying each letter out loud until he finished. He paused, drawing a line under your name before he whispered it, almost to himself.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, ignoring the small swoop in your stomach as you turned fully towards him. He smiled, that same smile he gifted you when your arms were entwined a week ago, in your burrow. You swallowed thickly, clearing your throat before you found your voice enough to say, “That’s very good Noa, I’m impressed. I’ll be more impressed if you can do it in a few days without an example in front of you.”

You stood then on nervous feet, stretching your arms and spine in a deep arch, hearing a few bones pop before letting out a small groan of satisfaction. The apes ability to sit on the ground for so long astounded you. You turned to Noa first, then Anaya, “We have a little bit more time before we lose the light and I need to head back to my shelter. You should read Soona’s Goodnight Moon, I know you haven’t memorized it so it should pose a bit of a challenge. And Anaya, do you want me to help you with Green Eggs and Ham?”

He nodded enthusiastically, practically running towards the pile of books on the nearby rock. He shuffled through them, but turned back to you a moment later looking anxious, “Not…there!”

Your brows furrowed, “What? I don’t understand, Soona do you have it?”

You pivoted to the female ape, who quickly paced back to her tree, checking her three-tiered stack before shaking her head. You were about to turn back to Noa, to ask him the same question, when his arm came around your body to place the book in question in your line of sight. You let out a sigh of relief, the words ‘thank you’ on the tip of your tongue when you felt his lips graze your ear and breathe out, “Here.”

The action alone caused a shiver to run up your spine, but the emphasized H and heat of his breath on your neck, forced a startled inhale from you. The air hissed through your teeth and rattled your lungs as you took a step forward. You whipped around to face him then, right hand coming up to cover your ear as you gaped. You hadn’t even realized he had risen from his place on the ground. He looked completely innocent to his deeds, seeming shocked by your reaction, but you knew better. As always, his eyes expressed everything his mouth and body language did not. You saw that playfulness, that mirth that was rarely displayed by the leader of the Eagle Clan. Except of course, when he was around his Sunset Brother and Sunset Sister. Except, apparently, when he was around you.

Anaya hooted lowly, teasing, “Noa…scared Echo.”

“Not scared,” you replied as you stared Noa down. “Thank you for the book in any case. Soona, can you sit with Noa, make sure he’s actually trying, please?”

She hummed in agreement as you made your way towards Anaya, and Noa moved to sit with Soona. You felt the brush of his fur against your bare arm and thought for a second that it was deliberate, but decided it must be your imagination acting up after his teasing. Still, you felt your own hair react to him, rubbing discreetly at the pebbled flesh along your arms. This was getting out of hand.

…

By the end of the day, the two male apes had turned a corner, showing real progress. You felt confident when you stopped and decided to send everyone home. It was twilight, just enough time for you to make it back to your burrow before a friendly visitor, hopefully, made an appearance. You had caught three fish, enough for dinner and breakfast, and one to spare. You were excited, having something to look forward to as you went home.

Anaya waved goodbye, his own catch hanging from his fishing rod as he made packed his things, two apples clasped tightly in hand. One for him, and one for his horse. Now that the apes were making frequent visits to the creek, they chose to ride on horseback to get there. You were fine with it, as long as it saved them time. You felt bad for the horses though, being tied up somewhere for hours waiting for the apes to go home, so you’d taken to bringing fruit that was a couple days away from spoiling for them. They deserved a treat for being so patient.

Soona was next, hand reaching up to cup the back of your head, she didn’t pull you in like you expected, but she smiled before nodding her head and releasing you. You returned her smile, nodding in return as she prepared to mount her horse. Jumping up onto the saddle, she settled before clicking her tongue, both her and Anaya trotting off in the direction of their village. You were confused by this, noticing Noa dawdling by his own stallion.

You took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before making your way over to him. He was feeding his horse the apple you had given him, patting its neck affectionately. You chuckled then, shifting the books you were holding to one arm. You jabbed your thumb back in the direction of the retreating apes, “You do realize you’re outnumbered now, right?”

Noa hummed, “Horse…is on my side.”

“As it eats the apples I brought.” You scoffed, pulling another apple from your own bag and letting the horse snatch it up from your hand. You were feeling good about your statement, when you heard a faint screech somewhere above you. You ducked, just in time to see Eagle Sun land on the saddle of the horse. He bobbed a moment, eyes trained on you as his talons readjusted themselves. You sighed, “I stand corrected, we are perfectly matched.”

Noa chuckled, “No…you are right…outnumbered…Eagle Sun…never on my side.”

“What is it with you and this bird?” You asked, hand gently outstretched to Eagle Sun. You remained wary of him, sometimes just as temperamental to touch as you were. Instead of the warning peck you were accustomed to receiving when he didn’t want your touch, he simply elongated his neck so you could give him his cherished chin scratches. “After all, he follows you, keeps an eye out for danger, and acts pretty calm around others. He seems like a sweetheart to me.”

Noa’s gaze lingered on you and Eagle Sun, before he confessed, “Was my father’s bird…we did not always…get along…we bonded…only after he died.”

Your hand froze, Eagle Sun tilting his head upwards to see what had caused you to stop, “You never told me that before.”

Noa shrugged both shoulders, “Never…had reason to.”

That was fair, it wasn’t often Eagle Sun made an appearance, choosing to fly free while Noa occupied his time with you. The few rare times the bird did choose to interact with you, it was usually because he wanted attention, or the food you were eating. You tilted your head, watching Noa shift from foot to foot, “Is there something else you want to tell me? Something you want to talk about?”

Noa looked down to the books in your hand, reaching for them and opening his saddle bag. You didn’t protest, simply asked, “Are you taking them back to practice more?”

“No,” he said simply. “Easier to…walk this way.”

“Walk?” You parroted. “Are you not going to ride?”

Noa shook his head, “No…you are…I am walking…you out.”

Your lips twitched upwards, a giggle threatening to burst out of you at the misuse of your phrase, but he was simply too endearing to laugh at. You figured this meant he did want to talk though, and decided to let him open up on his terms. Noa ushered Eagle Sun away from the saddle, the bird squawking once before taking off and landing somewhere in the nearby trees. You didn’t see where he landed, but knew he wasn’t far. You took the opportunity to step into the stirrup and hoist yourself up, before he thought to fly back.

You groaned under your breath, lingering tension in your legs reminding you what happened the last time you had been on Noa’s horse. He brushed knuckles along your outer thigh, “Still sore…prefer to walk?”

You waved him off, “No, I’ll be fine. Humans heal slower than apes I think, and you know, I’m not used to riding.”

Noa reached for the reigns, guiding his horse in the direction of your burrow as he hummed, “Not far…will get used to it…after a moon cycle.”

You tried to remember how long that was, but found yourself distracted by the colors smeared across the skyline. Soft pinks, purples, and a heady dark blue swirled against the clouds, creating a masterpiece that would never be seen again once the black of night overtook it. You glanced back to Noa, his focus solely on the path forward. You didn’t enjoy his silence, as you normally would. This one felt different, full of unspoken tension, like Noa was holding something back.

Your mind began to wander, and you couldn’t stop the question that slipped from your mouth, “Do you see in color like I do?”

Noa’s head turned sharply to glance at you, feet steady as he continued to walk, “Think so…how would I know…if we see things…differently?”

You pointed to the sky in the distance, “What colors do you see there?”

Noa was quiet a moment, “Blue…purple…black…light red.”

“Light red? Do you mean pink?” You asked, leaning forward in the saddle to be closer to the ape.

“Same thing.” Noa chuffed, “Like light red…better.”

“To each their own,” you hummed. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re walking me out?”

Noa was quiet. If not for the fact that you were so close to him, you might have thought he didn’t hear you, but by the extra power he suddenly added to his stride, you knew he had. You bit the inside of your cheek, sitting up again and fighting the urge to say anything else. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Need to…explain…a few things.” Noa said, sounding somewhat reluctant.

“Okay.” You asked, “Do you want to explain them now while we’re walking, or back at the burrow where you’ll have my full attention?”

Noa seemed to actually consider the question before replying, “Now is…good.”

“Alright then, Master of Birds,” you teased. “What needs explained?”

Noa sighed through his nose, “Before…when things were…tense…during the lesson…I did not mean to scare you.”

“Which time?” You asked.

Noa grunted, “When I was…loud.”

That certainly caught your attention, originally thinking he meant when he had whispered in your ear. You leaned forward again, “It seemed to me you were just processing what happened. I didn’t mean to do what I did, then Soona and Anaya’s reactions were…a lot. It’s understandable you were upset and lost your temper.”

Noa’s head seemed to bend slightly, admitting, “Was not…upset.”

“Not to argue, but if that’s not you upset, I would hate to see what you look like when you are actually angry,” you said playfully.

Noa stopped then, turning and making two different signs. The second one was upset, but you weren’t sure what the first one was. As if hearing your thoughts, Noa responded, “This is upset…what Anaya signed was this… it means bothered.”

You felt your body curl inwards, “I didn’t mean to bother you either. I have to admit, that’s a pretty small distinction for apes. Upset, bothered, annoyed…”

“Not that type…of bothered.” Noa confessed, urging his horse forward again.

You sat there, trying to figure out what bothered could possibly mean if not annoyed. Apes sometimes twisted or altered words, like echo, depending on the need it seemed to fill. Finally, you asked, “Bothered how, if not in the annoyed or upset way?”

“Same way…as you.” Noa said, head swiveling to look at you for a moment before turning back. “When I practiced…my small H sound.”

Another moment of confusion, then you felt your heart stutter to a stop, your breathing following suit. Your mouth went dry, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of a single word to say. Noa not only recognized your response to him, but apparently had felt the same way you did, when you had-…breathed on his hand while calling his name. Now you were the one who felt stupid.

How embarrassing

A hand came up to cover your eyes as you winced. No matter how innocent that had been in your mind, intimacy wasn’t solely a human thing. You had tried to show Noa like you would a child, but he was not a child. He reacted like any normal adult human, or ape, would. Oh, God. How uncomfortable he must have been in that moment, while you sat there confused and clueless.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, the only phrase that felt appropriate at the moment.

Noa hummed, huffing once before admitting, “I am sorry…Anaya signed something after…as a joke…and I…reacted poorly.”

Something inside of your brain screamed not to ask, but your mouth listened to the other part that just had to know. “What did he say?”

“Suggested,” Noa began, seeming to think about his choice of words. “Echo stay with me…in the village…would be happy to be taught…just you and me…no other apes around…it reminded me…of you…as a pet...made me…angry.”

The implication was there, but you chose to ignore it in favor of, “You didn’t tell Anaya or Soona about my history with apes…did you? Anaya never would have suggested something like that if he knew.”

Noa grunted, “Not…my…place.”

You thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Do you think they would treat me differently, if they knew?”

“Yes.” Noa answered immediately. He seemed to reconsider his one word answer before adding, “Would not do it…on purpose…would not want to scare…or hurt you...they are…good apes.”

You sighed, noticing your burrow up ahead, “It’s probably best they don’t know for now, then. I like the way things are between us, I don’t want things to change.”

“Apes say,” Noa began, stopping his horse and tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Change is nature…cannot control it…or stop it…only embrace it…as it happens.”

You patted the horse’s neck and mane as Noa finished the knot and looped back around to you. You snorted, “That sounds very wise, but here’s a little known fact about humans. We don’t like change. We actively try to avoid change. We like the security of the same thing everyday.”

“You…need change.” Noa insisted, hands reaching for you as you swung your left leg over the saddle.

You let him wrap an arm around your waist as you made to slide down, your own hands bracing on both of his shoulders. “So says, the Master of Birds. You think you know what I need?”

Your feet were not sure as they landed on the ground, but you did not stumble as Noa’s other hand came to wrap around your side and brace your back. He basically held your entire weight, only letting you take it back once he felt your legs lock in place. He glanced down briefly between the two of you, acknowledging your feet were on solid ground before his eyes darted back to meet yours. That intensity that was always there, burned now with a new type of determination as he said, “Yes.”

You felt the fingers of your left hand inadvertently tighten on his shoulder, grazing the skin underneath his fur. When that happened, you felt Noa subtly shift in place, somehow closer to you now. His hands trailed from their hold along your back, skimming down your sides, before stopping to rest on your hips. You found yourself caught in his gaze, trapped again at what you perceived as something dangerous in front of you. Only, this time, the sense of danger was completely different. He tilted his head slightly, eyes wandering across your face like you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. He sighed through his nose then, head beginning to tilt downward before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

Just as quickly as his focus shifted behind you, did he react. You were thrown behind him before your could blink, barely having time to process the movement as he screeched and yelled. You turned, watching him charge on all fours after the offending creature, growling, “Get away…shoo…Pest!”

You could have cried, seeing the fox you had been secretly feeding for the past week yip and whimper, trying to stand its ground against Noa. But Noa was bigger, scarier, growling and hissing as he circled and chased after it. You ran to stop him, calling out, “No! It isn’t hurting anyone Noa, just leave it alone.”

Too late, the fox whined and chirped as it is was chased off. You heard the leaves and rustling of bushes, but lost sight of it after a few seconds. Noa was panting, face scrunched as he snarled and grunted a final warning to the empty woods. Then you saw the harsh lines ease, canines retreating back behind his lips as he moved to stand on two legs. You had never been reminded so harshly before that he was an ape. It was a startling contrast to the intimate position you two had been in just seconds ago, and something in your stomach turned.

“Why did you do that?” You half whispered, somewhat breathless yourself.

Noa turned to you then, concerned as he pointed in the distance, “That…was a fox…not safe.”

Your brows furrowed, “But it wasn’t hurting-”

“Not…safe.” Noa interrupted with a final huff. “Predator…has attacked Eagles…nuisance that apes…usually kill on sight…in the village…cannot trust vermin…like that…pest needs to be…driven away…or will bring harm…to you…as all pests tend to do.”

You felt the blood in your veins, which had felt so warm moments ago, freeze. You had never been at odds with Noa before, and his resolve seemed absolute in this. It also showed you that once you had made an enemy of the apes, they were not so kind as to forgive. A fox had attacked Eagles, it might as well have killed an ape. You were surprised Noa hadn’t killed it on sight. You imagined your presence was the only thing that stayed his hand, since he never had been overly violent around you before.

This changed things

You hoped the fox would come back, but even if it did, you would have to make sure Noa was nowhere near your shelter. You owed the ape your loyalty, but you also owed the fox for all the food you had been depriving it of for so long. Noa was your-…friend, but the fox could be your companion…given enough time. Then again, maybe this was your sign not to pursue the idea of companionship with animals. After all, with what had just taken place between you and Noa, you weren’t exactly sure you were in a place to make that type of decision. You needed time to think, and to do that you needed to be away from Noa.

Said ape was pacing back to where you stood, rooted to the ground. Not for long though, as Noa’s hand reached for you. Without properly thinking, you took an involuntary step back, avoiding his outstretched fingers. He had no time to mask the surprise that immediately morphed into hurt, pulling his arm back and asking, “Are you…alright?”

“Yes,” you lied. “That just surprised me. It’s late and I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed now.”

Noa turned to look behind him, “Need help…with rock?”

You smiled, “No, thank you, Noa. I’ll be fine. Go home.”

He looked reluctant, stuck in place as he seemed to search for the right thing to say. He swayed back and forth as you walked towards him, then past him. He turned, mouth moving but saying nothing, hands fidgeting until he seemed to remember something. He moved quickly towards you, stammering out, “B-books…books in…bag!”

You stopped in your tracks, “I almost forgot. I’ll grab them real quick, that way you aren’t riding back in the dark.”

Before you could take so much as two steps forward, Noa had run back to his horse and yanked them out of the satchel. He paced back over to you, holding the books out, somewhat hesitantly, “Will not…see us…tomorrow…big day of…preparations.”

You swallowed, part of you wanting to comfort him, but the other part screaming at you to distance yourself from him before you ended up in another situation like before. Your heart won out though, as you sighed, “That’s okay, will I see you the day after?”

“Yes,” he was quick to reply. “Do not have to…give lesson…next time we meet…can explore…or talk…or something else…you need to do.”

You gently took the books from Noa, pulling them into your chest as you promised, “I’ll think about it. I’ll probably rest tomorrow, make some repairs to my shelter.”

His brow creased at that, asking, “Broken?”

You shook your head, “No, just need to make some adjustments. It happened over time, but it’s nothing I haven’t done before. Don’t worry.”

Noa nodded then, lips pursing before he said, “I have…made something I…would like to give to you…next time we meet.”

Something about the way he said it made you nervous, made your stomach sink, but you brushed it away. “Well, now I can’t wait until we see each other again. Way to leave me in suspense. I’ll look forward to the surprise.”

“It is…nothing grand,” Noa hedged. “Will explain better…when you see.”

“Noa, I’m sure whatever it is will be great and I’ll love it.” Your heart hurt as you realized that you fully believed what you had said. “I’ll see you day after next, okay? Get home safe, and get some rest.”

Noa nodded, “You too…have been working…hard…goodnight.”

You started to back up, waving with your free hand as you hummed, “Goodnight.”

You turned as Noa made his way to his horse, pausing once you reached the entrance of your cave, to watch him ride off. His eyes didn’t leave your form for the longest time, not until his horse carried him so far away that you were only a silhouette against the rock. You swallowed, placing the books on the dry shelf before bracing your back against the stone wall and sealing yourself in for the night, leaving just enough space for your nightly visitor if they returned. You dropped your bag on the ground, the chain to your doorway swaying back and forth as you sunk to the ground. You leaned back against said door, questionable tears filling your eyes as the reality of your life crashed into you.

You wrapped your arms around your knees, conflict swirling within you as you tried to think rationally. You felt like you were at war with yourself, nothing making sense or feeling right as you struggled to understand any of it. A sob shook you then, the heels of your hands digging into your eyes. The material still wrapped around your palms absorbed your tears, which made you angry for some reason. You pulled the offending material off and threw it over with your bag, looking at the new pink flesh that had been revealed underneath. No scarring or bleeding, just edges of new skin.

Reminded of Anaya and Noa’s kindness, the tears returned with a vengeance and you tucked your head into your knees. You hated feeling this way, hated how strange and disoriented you felt. You just wanted someone to hug you and tell you it was going to be alright. But who did you have that would do that? The face you used to imagine was not the one that appeared in your minds eye now, and that broke your heart even more. In that moment, you pretended that the last five years didn’t happen, that you were seventeen again and had had a nightmare in the vault.

You opened your mouth, a sob stealing your breath before you desperately called out, “Micheal!”

You didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t look up, because you knew he wouldn’t be there… but just for a moment, you pretended he could hear you. You pretended he was throwing the blankets off of himself in bed, and making his way over to you in yours, to comfort you until you fell back asleep. You sucked in a breath when you suddenly felt a light touch on your leg.

And there he was, auburn fur and brown eyes. Your fox had placed a paw on your leg, looking up at you with something almost like concern. You swiped at your eyes, sure you were seeing this wrong. The fox yipped and whined as you made eye contact. You felt crazy, but tried again, calling out, “Micheal?”

The fox lowered its paw then, sitting up a little straighter as it observed you. You leaned over, reaching for your bag and pulling a fish out. The fox hardly reacted, simply taking it from you with its teeth. This time though, it did not run. It laid down on its belly, tearing into the meat of the fish while it sat next to you.

Your tears stopped all at once, and you chuckled wetly, “I guess I know what to call you now. You know we’ll have to be more careful from now on, right?”

Micheal, the fox, looked up at you then, licking its lips and blinking slowly at you before returning to his meal. You were pretty certain at this point that you had lost your mind, but hey, at least you had a friend to keep you company and share dinner with.

[ghouldtime]

Enough of the moody venty things on my blog,

I present to you my idea of what animals Hybrid!141 (except different animals than what's usually popular) would be I'll write a series for it if enough people are interested 👀animal shifter au also possible??? I'm open to ideas

Captain John Price - Moose While he's not the biggest, I feel it matches his strength in leading terms and in the sense of his larger personality (even if he isn't exactly extroverted). They're the kings of the forest and while they might look cuddly and friendly, you don't want to screw with them or you'll quickly find out why they have that title. He's got that intimidating aura to him

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - Badger I KNOW THEY'RE SMALL AND HE'S NOT but look at it! He already has the black and white aesthetic going for him. Not to mention, badgers are solitary animals and can be extremely aggressive, you do NOT want to mess with a badger. They're also mostly nocturnal and as someone who works in the dark, it fits him so well. He's badger coded

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - Shrike (seriously these guys are WILD they're so sick) "What the hell is a shrike" is probably the most common question I'll get for this. This little dude is a BIRD OF PREY. But no, it doesn't just kill them with talons, it IMPALES THEM ON SPIKES. YEAH. BRUTAL. THEY MIMIC SONGBIRDS TO ATTRACT AND EAT THEM. These little dudes are sick and the dual nature and the complexity im eating it UP its so perfect for him. I really think it fits him because his looks can be extremely deceiving (fully agree with everyone who votes him as pretty boy of the year but ofc he's not only that). And of course he's clever and a lot of people won't expect the danger that comes with him?? I swear the duality is just perfect perfect for him

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - Fox Playful, intelligent, and possibly an unpredictable goofball, he fits a fox to a T. I'm also strongly considering otter I'm really tied in it but they're both so fitting??? He's got a bright personality, can be outgoing, and sure has the brains to back it up. He can be destructive when he wants to and needs to have an outlet. Either fox or otter, he's got the vibe. Not too serious most of the time but if they're determined, yeah - best not to mess with them, they have teeth and claws for a reason

[kindofatheatrekid]

Soft Yandere! Veteran being pegged! (No. You're not on top.)

How long has it been since I promised a male reader pegging this old dude? Uhhhhh... 😢

How about we not think about that and like- uh- focus that it got done? I have absolutely wonderful pookies that motivated me to finish this so let's all thank my lovely alphas for this! I wanted this to be on kinktober but writer's block and all dat- 😄

This has pegging. Which is in the title. It's clearly NSFW. So like-

MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI.

Alright! Now that that's all said and done! Enjoy fucking this old man!

TWs: overstimulation, condescending behavior towards reader, cum play, nipple play, I think that's it- comment if I forgot something pls-

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

KINKTOBER DAY ONE: TEMPERATURE PLAY

Pleasure. That’s the only thing you could possibly be thinking of right now. With your dick shoved into his ass, yet he was the one in full control of this situation. It didn’t matter that it was your hands on his hips— no. Your hands were just finding a place to grab onto while he rides you like he’s trying to drain you dry of both cum and life. This had to be why he looked like a silver fox, right? Stealing the vitality of the poor youth that got caught in his seductive ways. Which, in this case, was unfortunately and fortunately you. It was so warm inside him, the slowly cooling water only accentuating just how much more warmer he was— both from the soft walls that were clenching onto your dick like a vice, and from his skin. The wrinkled, aged skin that only made him even hotter in your eyes. White mixed with black hair on his arms just like his head.

Your eyes tear up from the sheer euphoria he was giving you, tongue almost shamelessly lolling as your mouth stayed open. If it wasn’t for that familiar, irritatingly enchanting glint in the old man’s eyes— moan after loud moan would have been falling off your kiss-bitten lips by now.

Speaking of lips, the reason for your current dilemma was now sliding his thumb over your bruised lower lip. His other hand goes to caress your cheek, the warmth forcing a groan to slip from you without warning. He notices the drool that threatened to leak, using it to coat your dry lips— dry from the heavy breaths you forced yourself to take as he rode you.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles out as you try to focus a glare on him, pathetically failing due to your vision blurring from the incoming tears. His hips suddenly slam down onto you; a brash, animalistic noise leaving you as you’re buried down to the hilt.

Heaven. This must be what heaven felt like.

Your hands scramble to grab onto his hips, grip almost bruising as if he was the only thing grounding you to reality right now. The almost hypnotic grinding of his groin towards yours not helping with the way your mind wanted to shut down immediately. The cool water, the heat from your combined breaths, the way his hands left trails of fire with every inch they grope your skin— there was just so much for your poor brain to handle.

It honestly felt like you were being used as a dildo with how little work you were doing for maximum pleasure. To be honest, you would happily live your days out as his dildo if that was a choice. His raging hard-on kept on rubbing against your stomach, pre-cum and bath water slick on your skin.

Water droplets dripped down from your hair as you chewed on your lower lip— eyes laser-focused on his cock. His cock that you wanted to touch and feel in your hands. Your left hand lets go of his hip just for it to tentatively stroke his neglected dick; the heat in your palm making you shiver in the water. Thumb slowly tracing circles along the slit of its head, pre-cum continuously dripping down to your wrist and into the already cloudy cold water.

You didn’t want to be the only one losing their head, determined to make him fall into this mindless pleasure you were presently in too. You wanted him to bear himself out like you were doing, to show you the raw, primal instincts that you also had. To the point where manners would be shoved aside, and the two of you would just take and take from each other.

His pace noticeably slows down at the growing pressure of your strokes— hand slowly, yet purposefully, running down his entire length. Fingers smearing the thin fluids along the veined skin, feeling it throbbing in your hands. You could hear the way his heart quickens to the same -if not faster- pace of yours, could see the lust-induced haze in the corners of his eyes.

You use this chance to buck your hips up without warning, relishing in the way his throat hitched. Hand reaching down to squeeze his aching balls that were full of cum ready to be released. Your own cock twitched inside him, not faring better than him— overstimulated, needy, desperate: those were the words that could perfectly describe your deafening thoughts at the moment.

Right when you think that you’ve managed to win this unspoken game between the two of you, his lips curve up into a grin. His eyes held a knowing glint, as if he could read what was exactly on your mind right now— it felt like he was stripping you with his gaze despite your nudity. Crow’s feet deepened while his eyes held an obvious twinkle of mischief.

You should’ve remembered that unspoken games have unspoken rules.

He brings his roughened hands up from the water, skin ice-cold from being in the water for too long. His hands sensually slide up your body -your warm skin prickling from the cold- until they stay on your chest. He could probably feel how hard your heart was pumping right now, wrinkled palm right on top of it. Your eyes meet: calm meeting with panicked, smug meeting with wary.

Rule #1: He’ll always be in charge.

Your back arches when his weathered fingers pinch your nipples— senses confused as warmth floods inside your body, yet everything outside is cold. A gasp-like moan involuntarily leaves your lips, lips formed into an o-shape as your grip on his cock tightens reflexively. A deep groan escaping him as well from the squeeze, cool fingers still refusing to stop as he twisted your nipples almost painfully.

Another, louder, moan is forced out from your vocal cords when his head dips down— lips clamped onto one of your nipples, rough stubble grazing against your wet skin. You couldn’t help but come when his hot tongue swirls around the sensitive nub, teeth grazing against the already tortured skin. Eyes rolled back once again for what felt like the hundredth time. Your other nipple, receiving the same cruel treatment with his icy fingers. He definitely felt when you came; the water significantly more opaque as your cum dripped down his thighs and into the tub you were both in. Your cock still painfully hard in him despite coming just a few seconds ago.

Rule #2: You’re the bitch. Not him.

His eyelashes flutter when he finally releases your nipple from his soft lips, fingers already tweaking it before you could even sigh in relief. Your hand quickly lets go of his cock to grab onto his steel reinforced hips for bearing again— forehead pressed against his chest as you whine for him to stop.

“Why are you moaning, лапочка? I’m the one with your dick in my ass so why are you acting like our positions are reversed, little one?” Fuck. His dirty talk only made you want to beg him for more.

Your moans only get louder as he pulls on your nipples, drool pouring out from your lips like you were a brainless zombie— lips unable to remain closed. Shivers ran across your entire body, body trembling from both the cold and your overused cock. You were sure that you were only shooting blanks by now, every pathetic squirt easily seeping into the cloudy bathwater. You’d need to take a shower afterwards to clean all the come off you.

Rule #3: Don’t ever expect to walk after he’s done.

A choked whimper leaves you when he finally pulls himself off you agonizingly slow, your limbs feeling like jelly by now. You didn’t resist when he brought you into his arms, mind a slurry of contradicting sensations and abused instincts. Your eyelids drooping when he captures your lips in his, the kiss a slow, but careful one— everything he did had a reason and was meticulously planned out. A likely habit from his youth.

“You did so well, Солнце. Such a good boy for me. I’m so proud of you~” He croons out in a heavy voice, peppering kisses all along your face as his scarred hands snake up to your neck— his touch tender as he strokes your warming face. His own, ignored, cock still stiff and raised while he pampered you with the kisses you desperately needed right now. Your voice just whines for more of his attention, arms wrapping around his cold body to pull you closer to him.

The two of you just stay in the chilled bathwater for a moment, clinging onto each other for warmth as your labored breaths become background white noise. His lips trail down to your neck, pressing kisses onto your frigid skin— your breath hitching as his tongue slips out to run a fiery trail of saliva up to your jawline. An almost hissed out groan leaving his lips when he tastes the cold salt on your skin.

His eyes looked practically feral at this point, licking his lips clean of your taste before he crashed his lips onto yours to share what he thought was his own heaven. Swallowing down all your moans and whimpers like a starving man who finally got a feast laid out in front of him.

He reluctantly breaks from the kiss for the both of you to breathe. His hot breaths harsh on your skin as he leans his lips closer to your ear— whispering at a volume where you could only hear even if there was no one else around you two. A little secret that only you would know with him.

“As sweet as ever, Милый.”

Translation:

Солнце = sunshine

лапочка = sweetie pie / cutie

Милый = dear / darling

A/N:

Damn. I honestly didn't think this pegging would win. It was honestly included as both a joke and the consequence of staying up too late for too many consecutive nights... (Y'ALL TORTURED ME. THIS WAS SO HARD TO KEEP THIS OLD MAN'S HOLIER THAN THOU ATTITUDE WHILE BEING RAMMED!!) 😟

There. Y'all got to fuck the old dude. Happy now?? But anyways please comment anything you want me to do. (It'll take time, though. I'm not chat GTP okay?) 😩

Just no vomit, scat, and the works okay? Golden showers are a hell no too. Look. I'm not going to kink shame here, but I cannot write anything like that due to my BOUNDARIES. Non-con, baby trapping, and other dark matters are fine. I love that shit. But yeah. Maybe I'll make another OC, maybe not. It really depends on my mood. 😘

AUTHOR OUT! 😌

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

no thoughts just comparing the deliberate parallels between the concerned comments layla, faruzan and paimon make to kaveh which are used to contextualise alhaitham’s comments to kaveh during a parade of providence

In the desert, layla who previously had issues with dealing with anxieties, received dubious advice from kaveh about equating worries to that of a sickness for that which is no cure, therefore you have to let its run its course

Layla reveals that this advice isn’t suitable for her, since the cause for her anxiety was solely because she didn’t have a clear goal for herself. She states that therefore, if this advice is something kaveh adheres to, then this is ultimately worse for him, as kaveh claims to have a set goal - as in, he wants to win the interdarshan chanpionship.

She notes that kaveh seems conflicted, and that this could stem from some inner sadness which he suppresses with a façade of happiness.

This points to kaveh’s internal conflict being between that of his guilt complex brought about by his perceived involvement in his father’s passing, and his genuine desire to help others at the cost of himself. Kaveh cannot balance the two in ways that will allow him to prioritise his own needs and desires

Kaveh’s internal conflict is pointed out later on in the same quest by Faruzan, who highlights kaveh’s title as a genius being incongruous with his problem solving abilities after kaveh passes out in the desert due to giving his food and water to the disturbed foxes and going out of his way to lead them to safety, putting himself at risk and jeopardising his place in the competition

However, Kaveh states that his title of a genius has nothing to do with this situation, and although he admits it wasn’t the most practical solution, it was dually his conscience that ultimately caused him to act and perceivably the guilt that would come from not attempting to help

After the second round comes to a close and faruzan inadvertently informs alhaitham of kaveh’s “tribulations”, the player gets to hear alhaitham’s reactions to kaveh’s decision through kaveh, as kaveh and alhaitham have discussed the events in the desert offscreen

Paimon points out that this is definitely ‘something’ alhaitham would say due to the blunt manner of speaking and the dryness of his words - this contextualises how kaveh receives them, as personal goading

When looking past this and focussing on alhaitham’s actual words, the real meaning can be found, and it is even a point in this scene that paimon offers the exact same comments, drawing direct parallels between her and alhaitham’s words, and therefore establishing the same concerns

Alhaitham points out kaveh’s unreliable problem solving abilities being incongruous with his title as a senior - directly paralleling faruzan’s comments in which she highlighted how kaveh’s decision making abilities were at odds with his title as a genius

As well as this, alhaitham alludes to kaveh’s guilt complex being the reason why he exerts himself for others at his own expense - which is a point that the traveller and paimon directly follow up on

Kaveh responds to their questioning amicably despite the sensitive nature of the conversation, just as he did when faruzan pointed out kaveh’s problematical decision making, and this is because of their apparent concern rather than actively seeking offence, with paimon protesting when kaveh asks: “don’t tell me you think i have serious personality flaws, too?” With the ‘too’ clearly referencing alhaitham and the conversation the two had prior to the traveller and paimon turning up

Kaveh can understand the concern in others’ words when they question his problem solving skills and the sense of his inner conflict stemming from guilt, however, when alhaitham makes the same comments, kaveh sees this as a form on animosity and personal critique

Because of alhaitham’s manner of communication and kaveh’s apparent distrust of alhaitham, the two cannot reach a mutual understanding - despite alhaitham expressing the same concerns as three separate characters within this quest

It is telling then that when kaveh gleans an otherwise unseen meaning in alhaitham’s words is when alhaitham changes his method of communication and directly, and intimately, addresses kaveh by using a script that only the two are privy to

Kaveh still doesn’t wholly understand alhaitham’s meaning, but the switch up in communication method is enough for kaveh to question alhaitham’s sincerity and not attribute it to alhaitham mocking him

Kaveh continues questioning the cause for this throughout the remainder of the event, being seen to question why alhaitham left the notes for him and whether if it was a coincidence or not. He concludes that it wasn’t a coincidence and then states “then…”, inferably questioning why alhaitham left the notes for him and what the meaning of his words were, in a script only kaveh would understand. Additionally, kaveh mentions wanting to ask alhaitham what the meaning of his notes were when at dinner after the closing of the interdarshan championship, as the uncertain meaning of his words has seemingly left a profound effect on him

Alhaitham changing his manner of communication, which kaveh usually perceives as negative, causes kaveh to question alhaitham’s sincerity, and therefore causes doubt in whether alhaitham is patronising him or not. This in turn can cast obscurity over kaveh’s assertion that alhaitham holds “disdain” for him due to Alhaitham’s expression of concern which kaveh cannot perceive due to the abrasiveness of his words. Alhaitham conveying his concern in a roundabout way only allows for kaveh to misinterpret him, which kaveh perceives as “disdain”.

A parade of providence establishes the cause for the rift in alhaitham and kaveh’s relationship mainly to be perpetual misunderstanding in communication, and sets out to propose a solution being that a change of communication.

By using a language that only the two of them know shows that for kaveh to fully understand his meaning, alhaitham must meet kaveh on his own terms when it comes to communication - the two must be on equal and frank level. this could allow a potential rebuilding of intimacy the two once shared when initially learning the language, and thus overcome the idea of “mutual disdain” which kaveh asserts due to his fundamental misunderstanding of alhaitham which alhaitham seems to reinforce with his typical language

(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)

[welcometo79s]

Echoes of a very particular Karaoke Night at 79s

this was written inspired by prompt #1 of @weekly-star-wars-prompts and will be added to my collection of clone shenanigans.

A beautiful collection of text messages that ARC Trooper Fives sent to his twin brother over the course of 79s Clone Karaoke Event.

Zhellday — 9:00 pm

Dear Echo,

the first 79s Clone Karaoke night is starting soon. I'm a little sad that you didn't want to join us, but I understand if it's not your scene. I hope you have a nice sleep tonight and enjoy that novel you've been reading! If anything happens, I'll reach out. By the way: If Rex asks, I don't know where his comlink is and you don't either. If he starts to search our barracks, don't let him unscrew the light bulb. I'll tell you all about the Karaoke Night tomorrow!

— your big brother Fives

Zhellday — 9:30 pm

ECHO I WON THE FIRST ROUND!

I'm something of a Karaoke Scientist by this point. I have studied the ways of the masters (General Skywalker, who taught me a thing or two about Karaoke) and I have acclaimed a victory for both of us with thunderous applause. I dedicated my song to you. People absolutely loved my Pop Punk rendition of "Mambo No. Fives". They said it was very creative and Tup found it deeply emotional. I beat Jesse rapping the Republic Anthem, but it was a close call. He's a little bummed that he lost, but he seems to be having a good time doing shots at the bar. I'm going to rest my vocal chords until it's my turn again. The bartender gave me a cute mocktail with one of these little umbrellas and a slice of orange for free. I'll send pics.

— Love, Fives

Zhellday — 10:00 pm

Little brother,

are you still awake? Would you consider coming over and looking after Jesse for a while? He took a few shots too many and now he wants to get another Republic symbol tattoo but this time on his buttcheek. Kix and I feel that he might regret this decision. The worst part is if someone agrees to tattoo him drunk, we can't even sue because we're not considered persons in the eye of the law. I would look after him myself but I have a song coming up and my fans are waiting for me. I need to beat Commander Cody's emotional love song dedicated towards an anonymous Jedi General. I'm optimistic because he kinda slurred it due to the alcohol but he has the heartfelt delivery going for him. I must not underestimate my opponents.

— Big Bro

Zhellday — 10:30 pm

Echo,

you will not believe who just showed up as a last minute entry into the Karaoke Competition. Marshal Commander Fox from the Coruscant Guard. He isn't even here to arrest people (I think). I really didn't think Karaoke was his thing. He isn't drunk either but he says he has consumed a little more coffee than usual and needs to blow off some steam. He accidentally started a flash mob in the bar to his song "The power of one, the power of two, the power of maaaany" (the additional a's are apparently part of the title and add to its atmospheric value). Fox told Hardcase, who has declared him his best friend, that he got this song from Chancellor Palpatine himself. Apparently the Chancellor's guardian Hego Damask who taught him about politics and "other things" has learned this song from some DJ named Jason Qimir Mendoza with whom he did a spiritual retreat in a cave once! That sounds like an adventure!

Fox said I would not last 30 minutes on a spiritual retreat because it requires silence and meditation and he has never seen me shut up for longer than 3 minutes. I thought that was very mean. I stole 5 credits from him. Don't scold me though, I will use them for the good of others! I bought you a Tauntaun wiggly head figure from them! It's red and has very big eyes.

— Thank me later, Fives

Zhellday — 11:00 pm

My bestest brother in the whole world,

I made it to the next round of the Karaoke Competition because Marshal Commander Fox decided one song was enough. Otherwise he would have won. I'm a bit bummed that I didn't fully earn this victory, but I will keep fighting and defending our reputation.

Can you come over though? Jesse has accidentally swallowed the little plastic umbrella from my mocktail and I'm not sure if that's bad. I tried to ask Kix but he is also drunk and simply said that the force will shape the umbrella into something new in the endless cycle of death and rebirth. I don't think that medical advice is very credible...

By the way, those Bad Bitch guys showed up. The one with the mental illnesses bumped into me on purpose and said "move, reg". I challenged him into a Karaoke Duel to the Death. He declined. He is too scared of me.

— Fives

Zhellday — 11:30 pm

Vod'ika,

attached you can find a picture of me and Hardcase competing over who can fit more drinking straws into their nose. A clone from the 212th told us to take our drunk misadventures somewhere else as we're getting too annoying. I told him Nasal Drinking Straws as a sport deserves more respect than to be assumed as something only drunk people do. Hardcase is drunk, I'm not. I do this because it is my calling and I will bring home the world record for both of us. Karaoke is going well btw, Hardcase and I are still in the competition, as are Dogma, Cody and some guy who only sings about Soup.

Tup was disqualified for not singing because he got stage fright. I cheered him up but he is crying now because that Technology guy from Clone Force 99 introduced him to something called "The Trolley Problem". I tried to reassure Tup that he doesn't have to hurt any of the little people on the train tracks if he doesn't want to, but it still made him sad. I'm glad that this Tech guy has not joined the Karaoke Competition because his big brother (the muscly one) said he's a Karaoke Champion.

Croissant has stuck two long drinking straws into two bottles of whiskey and is trying to drink them simultaneously. He intimidates me a little bit. But every grumpy stranger is a potential new friend, as Hardcase always says, so I approached him and asked him if he wants to join us in sticking drinking straws into our nose. He asked me if they removed all of my braincells on Kamino. I wanted to report him to his Sergeant for harassment but that one already came in super drunk and he's currently snorting glitter off the bar counter. It's not easy being Fives.

— Your favorite Brother

Zhellday — 11:45 pm

Echo, for reasons that are ✨ a secret ✨, I need you to come to 79s and pretend to be my lawyer. If you use the fake beard and wig I put under my bunk, they will never be able to tell you're a clone.

Benduday — 12:00 am

Echo did you block me?

Message could not be delivered.

Benduday — 12:30 am

Little brother,

thank you for unblocking me. At first I meant to call Rex to tell you to unblock me but then I remembered his comlink is in our lamp so I called it 50 times and this seemed to have the desired effect. I have handled the lawyer situation alone like a big boy and I hope that you are proud of me. I simply told the Corrie who caught me trying to loot the passed out 99 Sergeant's armor for valuables a fake name and address of my fake lawyer (Dr. Icicle Joe, Tauntaunlane 42 in E-97451 Kriffuck). By the time he finds out it's a fake address I will be long gone. See? I can handle my problems on my own. 😌

Sincerely,

— Fives

Benduday —12:45 am

Hey Echo,

Do you perchance know if Regs can digest confetti? I didn't eat weird things again, I promise! Jesse and Kix ate the confetti and Kix just giggled and said he has a bad feeling about this. I'm worried about them. I'm trying to prevent them from eating more confetti but this is a two man job and I don't want to cancel the semi-finals of the Karaoke Night. Please help.

— your twin who loves you very much, Fives

Benduday — 01:00 am

Hi Echo, I just wanted to tell you that the big hunk from the Bad Batch has carried Kix and Jesse to the nearest medical bay. He was way nicer than his grumpy brother. Croissant has laid down in a dark corner of 79s facing the wall. I'm not sure if he's sleeping or contemplating his life but I really don't want anything to do with it. Also Tup'ika is happy again because I told him a Jedi could solve the trolley problem by stopping the trolley with the force.

Me and Hardcase passed the semi-finals of the Karaoke competition. Dogma was disqualified and so was the soup guy. He didn't do well after he poured Everclear into his chicken broth. Now it's just me, Hardcase and Commander Cody left. I'm the only sober contestant. I have this in the bag.

— the future Karaoke Champion, Fives

Benduday — 01:30 am

Dear Echo,

I was bitten by a clone trooper from a different legion. I don't know him. I wouldn't be too worried about it normally but Dogma said something about how when you notice you have rabies, your death is already certain.

Tup says he hates 79s and needs pain killers. I tried to steal them from Tech but he karate-kicked me to the ground. Thankfully he gave Tup some when I explained to him that my vod needs them. He said next time I should just ask and apologized for making Tup'ika cry with the trolley problem. He's nicer than I thought he was. Good people are still out there. I was a little worried with all the chaos going on, but the night is getting better. Things are calming down.

— Fives

Benduday — 01:50 am

Aloha Echo, do you by any chance know how much the whole Karaoke equipment costs that they have at 79s? I am asking this because I plan on getting one for the 501st. Definitely not because the one here just died (for reasons I definitely had nothing to do with). Anyway, there is a large fire in the middle of the room. The Corries are trying to put it out. We've all evacuated the building and are chilling outside of 79s. Fox had to rescue Croissant because he did not wake up from the burnt smell or the people who were screaming "There's a fire! Run for your lives!" That guy... I have snatched a portion of the fire for you as a gift. I keep it in a little open glass with a candle in it and after they announce the Karaoke King, I will bring it home and keep it alive so that I can give it to you in the morning.

— Your older brother, Fives

Benduday — 02:20 am

I'M THE KARAOKE KING! They couldn't hold the finale because the karaoke corner burnt down but Hardcase passed out drunk so I won by default. I'm very happy and I will carry the grave responsibility to lead my Karaoke Kingdom with honor and pride. My first request was that for the new Karaoke corner the bar hangs up a picture of you on the wall with the caption "I dedicate this victory to my little brother Echo who came out of the tube 10 minutes later than me". They have accepted. However they stated that there will never be another Karaoke Competition, which is a shame but at least no one can break my winning streak. I still have your Tauntaun figure and your fire. Sorry I spammed you. I will go home now! See you tomorrow. Fives out.

[kevindavidday]

Your favourite things about kevin or some hcs?

my favorite things about kevin (not in order):

1) unmoanable name

2) so resilient, does not give up

3) so anxious, always one second away from throwing up or having a breakdown

this is why i love to put him in situations

4) hilarious one-liners ('its not a major loss' + 'its easier if he remains heterosexual')

5) hyperobsessive nature (i understand him on a spiritual level)

6) not a sore loser in front of the press but an absolute bitch boy when the cameras are off

7) scathing diva...what a fucking name to give him i'll never be over it

8) dramatic as fuck (he self-proclaimed himself queen 10/10)

9) chronic passenger princess <3

10) the fact that he likes pineapples? i find that so cute?

d'you think the foxes have stacks of canned pineapples or like just actual fucking pineapples lying around? that one scene in victorious when beck walks in with a watermelon for robbie cuz robbie is sad? that but with matt and kevin i can see it so clearly

11) his tendency to subject the men around him to vile levels of homoeroticism and never acting on it cuz he has a girlfriend and 'its easier if he remains heterosexual'

12) lil tramp stamp on his face. perfect for a kiss tbh.

13) he sees potential in people that even they haven't realized. i love that he shares this trait with his father unconsciously because distance separated them but they were both the first ones to see that there was more to andrew than a manic grin. i love that he does it scared. everything and anything he has to do - its all new outside the nest but he will do it scared and it's wonderful.

he's literally the world's specialest boy actually (idk which one of y'all gave him that title but it fits so well)

some hc's for kevin i have loitering about:

1) 20 thousand step skin care routine

2) absolutely sleepless moron he's going to be awake like this 👁️👁️ at the worst hours because he can't always seem to beat the nest timings (this does not help his skin)

3) voyeur (i will not elaborate)

4) muscle memory in reaching out for andrew or neil when he goes pro and being devastated when he realizes they're not there yet (they get a call asking them to 'graduate faster')

5) he would take time out for his history books no matter what - best gift for him is just an ancient book he hasn't read yet

6) remember the sex toy convo with jean and cat? would be so funny if the foxes tried that with him tbh allison's like he's so stuck up we should get him a sex toy and kev's like andrew already did (pin drop silence)

lot's more where all this is coming from but this has already gotten so so long i'm sorry 😭thank you for the ask i love thinking about babygirl of all time