#they had no reason to wait for her in the dark

[ashwhowrites]

Hi beautiful! I’m so happy you are back! You are the best writer ever!!💜

I was wondering if I could request a prisoner Eddie Munson x nurse shy reader. ( in prison for whatever reason you want) He gets beat up in prison and he goes to the nurse and finds her so beautiful and they flirt and feelings start coming up. He try’s to see her anytime he can, and maybe they have a kiss that leads to more like smut??

I love your writing! Sorry if this is bad!

I hope this is what you wanted (it leads to smut but not much of a smut scene )and that you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting!❤️ And it's not a bad request at all!! Prisoner Eddie is fun. Thank you for the love. Prisoner Eddie deserves the criminal love photo

Heal me, nurse

"BREAK IT UP!" An officer screamed as a fight broke out in the small cafeteria. Eddie ignored the officer as he continued to land punches across the other prisoner's face. The officers raced over to the brawl but didn't arrive fast enough to protect Eddie from the bash against the back of his head.

Eddie groaned as he fell over, his head pounding as three guys began to beat his body black and blue. He felt relieved when several officers pulled all the guys off of him. Eddie wiped his nose and realized he was bleeding. He could feel his eyes, ribs, and the back of his head throbbing. He was barely aware of what was going on as he was dragged to a room.

"All yours," the officer spat as he let Eddie's body drop on a chair next to the door.

"Dick," Eddie muttered to himself as the officer walked off. He held his body in pain as he looked around to see where he had dropped off.

"Let me help you to the bed," a soft voice spoke. Eddie blinked through his throbbing eyes as he took in the other person in the room. He groaned as the stranger helped him stand, he took the time to take her in.

She was insanely attractive, and he wasn't saying that because he'd been stuck in cells with random men and hadn't seen a female in ages.

"Where am I?"

"The nurses' office," she smiled, helping him sit on the tiny bed.

Eddie hummed, he didn't even know prison cared to have a nurse. "And you are my nurse?" He swore he's only seen attractive nurses in porn, and he couldn't lie he was imagining how she would look in a tiny nurse outfit.

"Well, I'm everyone's nurse. Now, what happened?" she asked. She sat on a small stool in front of him, her eyes waiting.

"Fuckers jumped me, and now my head, ribs, nose, and eyes are throbbing," he shrugged. Eddie was rough, and he could handle taking care of himself. He had done it a thousand times before. But the idea of this pretty girl having to check him for wounds? Yeah, he liked that.

She stood up and grabbed a small light, flashing it in his eyes as she directed him to follow it. She tried to focus on her job and not that this prisoner was insanely hot. He had captivating eyes, so dark and warm. She felt a blush creep up her neck as he stared right back into her eyes.

She stepped back as she felt the room grow hotter. She walked over to the small sink and wet a cloth. She walked it over to him and softly wiped away the dry blood.

"I'm sorry this happened to you and that the officers treat you like shit," she whispered, gently cleaning his nose.

"Nothing I can't handle, I'm a big boy," he shrugged, chuckling.

She tried not to shiver at his deep chuckle. She silently yelled at herself as her mind went elsewhere with his big boy comment. She dabbed his nose, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt nervous under his stare, trying to avoid eye contact, but she kept feeling this pull to look back.

Once she cleaned off his nose, she tossed the towel to the side.

"Could you..uh..unbutton.. your-" she shyly stuttered, her hands waving to his orange jumpsuit. She hated how nervous she felt around this stranger.

"Unbutton what, gorgeous?" he teased. He enjoyed how shy she was, and it was clear he was making her nervous. "This?" he asked, two fingers slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons.

She blushed deeply as his skin became exposed. She could see some ink on his pale skin. She moved without thinking, stepping closer as she took in the spider and demon. She held her breath as his fingers teased more buttons, but then his fingers landed under her chin.

She squeaked in surprise at the touch. Her skin was raised with goosebumps as she tried to sneak a deep breath.

"I don't think I heard an answer, darling," Eddie whispered.

"Yes," she coughed, "unbutton the top so I can see your ribs, please."

Eddie chuckled at her shyness, teasingly unbuttoning the top half of his suit. Y/N tried to make it seem as if she wasn't interested in what else was under his clothes.

She reached forward to softly touch the ribs that were becoming a darker color compared to his white skin. For the first time since she met him, she was focused on her job. Eddie couldn't help but twitch as her fingers trailed across his ribs and stomach.

"I think it'll just bruise," she said gently, tracing the small marks. She stepped back, "You can button up. I'll give you some ice to take with you."

~

Eddie was sent on his way, holding an ice pack against his ribs. He craved a hot shower, but he wasn't sure if he could even have one. He took the ice to his cell and prepared to sleep the pain away.

But only two hours later, his body was screaming, and the ice was melted. Eddie didn't know the time, unsure if it was early or late. Eddie decided to get more ice to help him get more hours of sleep. And the hope he'd get to see her again.

He turned the corner and noticed a small light coming from the office. He walked in and was pleased to see her sitting at the desk. He gave the door a soft knock to alert his arrival.

"Thought I should return this."

Y/N was startled by the voice, jumping out of her skin as she turned to see him.

"Oh! Thank you. Usually, the officers bring those back in the morning...are you even allowed to be out right now?" She asked, looking over his shoulder.

"And give those dicks a reason to see you? Nah. And look where I am, baby. Does it look like I follow the rules?"

She had to give him that. She stood up and took the melted ice bag from his hands and threw it back in the freezer. Eddie shamelessly checked her out as she bent over.

"What's your name?" He asked

"Y/N, and yours?" She asked as she turned around. He was much closer than before. His body was almost right up against hers.

"Edward Munson, but you can call me Eddie," he said, a charming smile on his lips.

~~~

It only took one day for both of them to feel something. Eddie constantly found ways to visit her. Sometimes he picked fights, letting them beat him as badly as they could so he could limp his way to her. Other times he pretended to feel sick or that he was going mentally insane.

She always greeted him with the same smile and gentle touch. He was happy the other prisoners always went for his ribs and chest because he loved watching her get nervous when his upper body was exposed.

He could easily tell she was attracted to him and he felt the same for her. Life in prison was just as hell as people thought, but she added some life to the dull building. She gave Eddie a reason to smile.

Y/N was a little worried about how much Eddie found himself in her office. Some days he didn't even heal from his last fight, bruises adding on to other bruises. She had to admit that he pulled off a busted lip and bruised eye very well. Selfishly she enjoyed his trips to her office. She liked his company, and the more he came, the longer he stayed. Something was forming between them, and it definitely wasn't allowed.

~~~

Eddie walked down the hall, clenching his stomach as he faked a horrible stomach pain. The officer dropped him off and left without a word. The door was closed and Eddie was a little confused. He turned the knob and welcomed himself in.

His girl was there, perfect as always. But she wasn't alone. She stood in front of an officer using a stethoscope on his bare chest.

"Breath in for me,"

Eddie watched as the officer seemed to enjoy the moment too much.

"Kinda hard when you take my breath away," the officer chuckled. Eddie couldn't help but scoff at the flirty comment, making his presence known.

"Oh, Eddie, hi!" She smiled, joy on her face as she turned to him. "Just one second!"

She turned back to the officer, eager to get him to leave. "Well we are all set. Everything seems fine."

"You'll think about tonight right?" The officer asked

Eddie slit his eyes, sending a glare to the man.

"Uh.." she looked towards Eddie, then back, "Yeah, I'll think about it."

Once the officer left, Eddie strolled into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Oh that's supposed to stay open," she said, her voice growing quiet as she heard it lock.

"Oh? Then why was it closed with him?" She shivered at the venom in his voice. Her stomach filled with excitement as a jealous look covered his face.

"He asked," she gulped, his heavy steps reaching her feet as she stood still.

"Yeah, what else did he ask for?" Eddie questioned, beginning to unbutton his orange jumpsuit. "Something about tonight."

Y/N ignored the burn between her thighs as he continued to unbutton his suit past his stomach. She cast her eyes down for a quick glance then back up to his face. Her eyes yearned to look back to his happy trail and see where it disappeared.

"He asked me about having dinner together,"

Eddie moved fast, softly gripping her hair as he yanked her head up. She whined at the burn, her knees getting weak. He slowly leaned in, teasing his lips over hers. She felt the room grow warmer as his breath hit her lips, her eyes begging him to close the gap.

"Are you wanting to?" He whispered

"No," she said instantly, "please Eddie," she begged

"Please what?" He asked, "you want me to kiss you?"

She licked her lips as she tried to nod her head through his grip.

"My pleasure," he said against her lips before he kissed her. She moaned as his lips worked against hers, firm and passionate. His hands gripped her hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue softly moving into her mouth.

She wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch him, her hands burning to feel his skin as his tongue danced with hers. She nervously placed her hands on his shoulders as she tried to fight back in the kiss. It was no use, though; he had all the power.

He pulled back, smirking as she followed his lips. "Get on that bed, baby girl." He whispered, stepping back as he stripped out of his suit. She scrambled to the tiny bed.

She held her breath as he stood in his boxers, his hard-on caught her attention as she shamelessly stared. She felt herself drool when his hand landed over himself and softly rubbed himself. The sound that left his body made Y/N clench her thighs.

"I'm going to show you who's really in charge around here."

She felt locked in a trance as he walked over to her. His hands were on her in seconds, easily taking all the material off of her skin. She felt nervous about the idea of being naked in front of him but the way he looked at her made her feel like she had nothing to be shy about.

His hot mouth was on her skin as his hands trailed down her stomach. She shivered as she felt his hand growing closer to the wetness between her thighs.

Eddie sucked on her neck as his fingers slid in between her soaked folds. She moaned out as his fingers slid inside her, stretching her open.

"Think you can handle my cock, pretty girl?" He teased, his breath hot against her skin as she began to rock against his fingers. She whined in response, her thighs turning into jelly.

"Yes, please," she begged, throwing her head back his fingers sped up.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[thelov3lybookworm]

A Little Gift

Summary: Being late to a date is unacceptable, unless, of course, the reason for the delay is so adorable.

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Word Count: 1846

Warnings: none, just fluff and rhysie being an adorable brother 🥹

A/n: based on this request 😋 @knoxic BESITE I LOVED LOVED LOVEDDDDDD THIS IDEA OMG I LOVE THIS ONE SM HOPE U LIKE IT TOO🤭

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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"Y/n, baby, are you sure you want this?"

Y/n pouted up at her brother, nodding. "He’s very nice to me."

Rhysand sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had been sighing a lot the past week, Y/n noted, since she told him the new HIgh Lord of Autumn had wanted to court her. Y/n knew none of the members of the inner circle liked the news, she could see the disappointment and doubt on their faces clearly. And it had saddened her deeply to know she had let down her family, who had been nothing but kind and loving to her after her parents and sister had passed.

Rhysand had been so loving, taking up the role of a doting big brother so seriously that at times people confused him for her father.

Not that he could have ever been as caring as Rhysand was.

Out of the three siblings, Ophelia had been the loudest, the cheeriest. She would always smile, no matter what situation she was in. Then was Rhysand, loud, but quiet when needed to be. And then Y/n, who barely ever spoke if it wasn’t in front of her siblings or mother.

And then Rhysand and Y/n were suddenly the only ones remaining alive, and she had drawn in on herself more than ever. The first few months, Rhysand was too busy wallowing by himself and trying to take care of the court, thrust into the new role of the High lord without preamble, to notice.

When he had, he had cried, holding his only remaining family tight.

Since then, he had made sure to give Y/n all the attention in the world, never raising his voice at her, knowing she could be ripped away from him too. He did not want to hurt her, when she was the only person who really mattered. He gave her everything she asked or, never saying no to anything.

So Y/n had known when she told him about Eris, that he would not outright refuse to acknowledge their budding relationship, nor would he get mad at her.

But he would try to talk her out of making a grave decision, in his words, and Y/n did not mind it one bit.

"I can’t imagine him being nice, in any world." Rhysand mumbled under his breath, glaring holes into his shoes as he paused his pacing.

"Rhys, can’t you just give him one chance?"

"One chance to do what, angel? Break your heart?"

Y/n leaned back in the armchair she was sitting in, waiting for Eris to show up so the two could spend time together, as promised in the letters exchanged the week before. She picked at the soft fabric of the skirts of her shimmery dark orange silk dress, chewing on her lip, trying to come up with something to placate her panicking brother.

"Y/n, he's late. The male can’t even show up on time. How can I bring myself to trust him with you when he is keeping you waiting?"

Y/n glanced outside, then back in her lap. He was right. Eris was late. Not too much, of course, but late nonetheless. It didn’t bother Y/n. She knew of the problems and responsibilities that came with being a new high lord, having seen her brother go through the same experience her lover was going through. She knew how meetings and tasks came up and demanded your attention even when you didn’t have time for them.

But Rhys wasn’t as willing to be lenient as Y/n, it seemed.

Once again, he sighed, dragging his hands down his face and walking closer to Y/n. She sat quiet, watching him move to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"I just want you to be happy, Y/n. You are like my own baby, my child. I’ve seen you go through so much, so much pain, so many hardships, and I think you deserve to have a quiet, calm life where there’s no uncertainty. A life where you know you are loved, with someone who isn’t broken, who hasn’t been known to be hateful. I see Eris, Y/n, and I can tell his circumstances were not ideal enough for him to be able to afford being good, and I understand that. But what if his goodness now is overshadowed by his old habits? The things he’s been forced to do won’t leave him just like that."

Y/n’s eyes prickled as she nodded along, her grip tightening around her older brother’s hands. She understood what he was saying, of course she did. But that didn’t mean she wanted to accept it.

"I… I don’t-" Y/n paused, trying to understand what she even wanted to say.

"I’m not saying you shouldn’t court him, Y/n. Just- just be careful, yeah? Guard your heart until you are sure of his intentions."

Y/n nodded, leaning down to put her head on her brother’s shoulder. She blinked away the tears furiously while one of Rhys’s hands went around her, rubbing her back.

"Okay, enough emotional talk. Too much for my health."

Y/n huffed out a wet laugh, pulling away from Rhys to peer at Cassian, who pretended to gag and turned away.

"When did you come, Cass?"

"Yeah, why did you come, Cass?" Rhys stood, dusting off his pants and sneering at Cass, who offered him the kindest finger he owned.

"I came to see Y/n off. Where’s your mate?"

Y/n swallowed, glancing outside once more. "I don’t know."

His mouth dropped open in a show of exaggerated shock. "He’s making a lady wait? Absolutely horrendous."

Y/n shook her head, pushing to her feet, running her hands down her skirt. "It’s no big deal."

The next few moments passed quickly, as Y/n watched Feyre materialise in the doorway, Nyx and Nesta by her side. Then Azriel and Mor, and her brows furrowed. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for everyone to gather in the sitting room after breakfast on the holidays, lazing around until it was time for lunch, but… this gathering didn’t seem to be about that.

Were they all here to see her off?

Ridiculous busy bodies.

Before she could say anything about it, though, a knock drew her attention, and Y/n’s heart quickened, already predicting who it was.

But it was Rhysand, who hurried out to open the door.

"You’d think it was him going out with Eris." Y/n murmured, following him out into the foyer. Azriel made a noise of agreement, his arms folded across his chest as he walked behind her.

Y/n ignored his presence, pushing her jittery hands behind her hips, pressing her lips together before stepping fully into view of the door.

Eris wore a simple burnt orange dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow and two buttons undone, showing off his, evidently, hard earned muscles. Dark brown slacks clung to his hips and thighs, matching with the dark brown long jacket he had draped over his shoulders.

Just the sight of him was enough to make Y/n drool. But she forced herself to look away, to focus on what her brother was saying.

"You understand me?" Rhys said his voice low, menacing.

Y/n didn’t even want to imagine what he was trying to make Eris understand.

"I understand-" Eris paused mid sentence, his eyes moving to rest on Y/n, widening ever so slightly. His gaze moved down to her toes, then back up again, snagging on her hair before meeting her eyes, offering her a small smile.

Rhys didn’t seem too bothered by Eris’s sudden lack of words, moving away from the doorway to grab Y/n’s long jacket before turning to her, waiting. Y/n hurried to put it on when her eyes fell to the way Eris held his hands behind his back. Almost as if he was as anxious to see her as she had been to see him.

"What took you so long?" Y/n pushed one arm through the jacket Rhys held open for her as Azriel prodded, curiously watching at Eris.

His cheeks turned a light shade of red, the freckles dotting his cheeks standing out.

"I, uh… had a little something come up."

Azriel raised a brow. "And that is?"

Eris glanced at Y/n, before clearing his throat. "I wanted to get her a gift."

"And did you?"

Y/n whipped her head to glare at the spymaster. "Azriel."

"No no, he has a point." Rhys said, resting his hands on Y/n’s shoulders.

Y/n sighed, exasperated, and pulled away from her brother. "Let’s go, Eris. Ignore them."

He smiled, the indent on his cheek making an appearance as he pulled his arms forward. In them, nestled, was a small, golden little pup, eyes wide yet drooping, a messy little red bow adorning its neck.

Instantly, Y/n’s heart melted, a soft gasp escaping her. Her focus zeroed in on the little thing, her brother and Azriel fading away into the background until all she could see were the innocent eyes, the small body, the soft fur and the wagging tail. She stepped forward as he extended his hands, letting the pup sniff the fingers she lifted to pet the little thing.

"What is this?"

"Your gift?" Y/n didn’t look up, but she could practically hear the look on his face.

"Eris- you didn’t have to." Y/n mumbled, feeling her brother peek over her shoulder at the animal she gently took into her own arms.

He shrugged. "I knew you liked cats but I couldn’t find a kitten so I just- got you him. I hope you like him." He paused for a moment, and Y/n could hear his smile when he spoke next. "He certainly seems to like you."

"Like him, Eris?!" She lifted her head and drew the animal close to her chest, her lower lip jutting out as tears gathered in her eyes. His eyes widened, a look of alarm crossing Eris’s face as his shoulders stiffened. "I love him!"

He exhaled a relieved breath, his small grin making an appearance again. "Well, I’m glad to hear that."

"Aren’t you supposed to go?" Rhysand questioned. When Y/n glanced at him, he didn’t even look up at her. His eyes were fixated on the whining pup.

Her eyes narrowed. "He’s mine."

Rhys rolled his eyes, reaching out to take the dog whose tail wouldn’t stop wagging. "Go on, it’s almost dinner time."

Y/n wanted to argue, but he was right. They were running late.

"See you later then." Y/n kissed her brother’s cheek, who simply waved her away, too busy cooing over the golden fur ball in his arms. She dropped a peck on his little head, too, before turning to Eris and pulling the door shut behind her, sighing.

His eyes twinkled as he extended his arm towards her, head tilted.

"Shall we?"

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[semisslave]

♡ Give me your sound, making your song going loud... ♡

Contents: WLW, Dom!Se-mi x Sub!R, Guitarist!Se-mi x Singer!R, Smut

Warnings: Smut, degradation (kinda), praise, strap sex, fingering

You were part of an independent band called "The Roselights." You were their lead singer. Your band wasn't quite popular but had some fans. Your band aesthetic was quite girly and pinkish, especially you, being the lead singer.

Your band had a "rival" band, which was quite the opposite of yours. "Lost kisses" was an independent rock band that also had a small fan base like yours, and they kept fighting among each other. Both bands always suffered with comparisons between them since they were both indie rock bands but quite different. Lost kisses had a very dark aesthetic, very different from yours.

You couldn't deny that their music was good, but something was better than the music. Their lead guitar, Se-mi, was quite popular outside the band. She had 50k followers on Instagram just because she was gorgeous (something you couldn't deny). You tried to talk to her some times but she and her band mates were very rude and cold, that's one of the reasons why your band and theirs don't get along.

You and your band decided to enter an independent bands competition were the winner had the chance to sign with a big record label, of course you weren't missing this opportunity, but guess who wasn't either...

The competition was held in a concert place where people could watch and vote online for their favorite band at the end of the presentations. There weren't judges, so you had to make your biggest effort to connect with the audience and convince them to vote you.

Your band had to play right after Lost Kisses, which made you more nervous already.

You thought it wasn't fair because Se-mi was more popular than her band, and that would benefit them. Some girls even threw her bra to the stage while Se-mi's band was performing.

When they end, the announcer calls your band out, and you prepare yourself to go, but Se-mi grabs your wrist and whispers to your ear in a low voice...

"Good luck, pretty girl."

How the fuck were you supposed to concentrate after she said that? It was clearly part of her plan, fuck her.

"Now, welcome to... The Roselights"

You stood on stage and gave the best of you, hitting notes you didn't even know you were able to and expressing every lyric perfectly, making the public feel the song with you.

After the presentation, you and your band went to the backstage where there was only one person... Se-mi. The other bands where in the other room waiting for them to be called or already left since the results were going to be announced the next day. You looked at Se-mi confused while your other band mates started grabbing their things to leave.

"That was a great show... You actually surprised me ___" Said Se-mi with a smirk and playing with her lip piercing.

"What do you want?" You asked annoyed, your band mates were already leaving, each one by their own.

"I just wanted to congratulate you... Is that illegal?" She said faking innocence while you sighed

"I know you're not here just for that. You really expect me to believe you suddenly changed and now you're kind?"

"Now that everyone is gone, I can tell you my true intentions... You looked really sexy on stage, you know?"

You blushed at her comment. What was she saying? "Thanks, I guess..."

"You could say the same about me."

"I don't think you need my words, I mean... You had people throwing their underwear at you."

"But I don't care about them... They're not pretty as you." She said taking steps closer to you. Her height towering you as she slid a hand on your waist.

You were speechless, what the fuck was happening? Is this another wet dream you had with her?

Suddenly, she kissed you. You didn't pull away, how could you? You wrapped your arms around her neck while her pierced tongue was exploring your mouth. God, she was experienced.

Se-mi then, hearing the other band finished their performance, pulled you and her bag into a bathroom to continue what you both already started.

She started undressing you slowly while kissing you, taking off your black jacket, then your pink dress, leaving you only in your pink underwear and you black large boots that never took off.

She started caressing your clothed pussy as she felt the wet stain in your panties.

"God, so wet already, and only for kissing? You're such a slut." She said with a smirk in her face, placing you on the counter of the bathroom.

She pulled your panties aside and slides two fingers in your pussy. You moan as you feel them inside of you, the cold rings making you more sensitive.

"Fuck, S-se-mi~" You moaned as you felt her fingers moving inside of you, hitting that sweet spot.

While fingering you, Se-mi grabbed her bag, taking a 8 inch black strap out of it.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, how was that going to fit?

"You look scared, I'll be gentle, at first..." She says while putting the strap on.

You moaned, almost screamed when you felt it inside of you, stretching you out.

"Oh, Se-mi!~"

You moaned as she pounded into you

"You look so pretty when you're made a mess..." Said Se-mi while she pounded into you harder

"Oh, yes, yes~" You moaned as Se-mi fucked you dumb

"You're taking me so well, keep doing it..."

You moan feeling closer to your release.

"I wish I had a cock and I could feel how tight you are..." Said Se-mi with a smirk on her face.

"I-I'm close~" You gasped as you felt closer to the edge

"That's great, good girl..."

"S-se-mi!~" You screamed her name as you came.

Se-mi keep pounding, making your orgasm last longer as you moaned and gasped desperately.

When she finally pulls out, you, with shaky legs, adjust yourself a bit on the counter while Se-mi takes off her strap, putting it in front of you.

"Lick it clean" She says codly

You, completely fucked dumb, obediently lick the strap

"Such a good slut..."

Se-mi cleaned you up and helped you get dressed, something you didn't expect her to do but she felt really caring at that moment. She helped you to get out and even brought you home. You smiled as you layed on your bed, you forgot everything about the competition, your mind was only thinking about Se-mi right now. Were you developing feelings for a member of the rival band? Your band mates would be so disappointed... Well, fuck them, it's your life. Does she feel the same? If she doesn't, why would she fuck me and take care of me like she did? Your mind was flooded with questions.

You got a message

"Tomorrow, you could say that you've been fucked with a winner" It was Se-mi

You totally forgot about the competition, you couldn't sleep all night thinking about Se-mi and the competition...

Part 2? (This is my first time writing theseee😭💗)

[deansbeer]

off limits ・ JASON TEAGUE. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

୨୧ synopsis. you visit jason at his first football game as an assistant coach, and after his team wins, he takes you in his office—reckless, desperate, and forbidden. but when lana finds out, everything shatters. now, caught in the fallout of your affair, you and jason must face the consequences.

୨୧ warning(s). smut | fem!reader | cheating | praising | unprotected sex (wrap it up) | semi-public sex | light dominance | slight degradation | established affair | bad decision making | tension | recklessness | big time secrecy | confrontation | emotional tension | getting caught | angst | heartbreak.

୨୧ word count. 1.5k

୨୧ kari notes. listen, i don't condone cheating !!! but when it comes to lana … it's justifiable. so save the bitching, i'm entitled to my own opinion and have my reasons for disliking her <3 now that we got that out of the way! this is my first ever jason teague fic and i'm down astronomically bad for him.

the friday night lights shine bright over the smallville high football field, the crowd buzzing with energy as the game wraps up. the crows just won—another victory under assistant coach jason teague's belt.

you watch from the bleachers, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on your lips as you spot him down on the field. he's all confidence, shaking hands with players, clapping them on the back, his spiky sandy blonde hair slightly damp from sweat.

he invited you tonight—nothing unusual, just a casual you should come watch the game when you last saw him.

but there's nothing casual about the way his eyes find yours through the crowd, lingering just a second too long before he turns away.

nothing casual about the way your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with heat.

because jason teague isn't just anyone.

he's your good friend. nothing more.

not to mention, he's also dating lana lang.

but that doesn't stop the way your body reacts when he pulls you aside after the game, leading you through the halls of smallville high, past empty classrooms and dark corridors, until you're standing in front of his office.

"you coming in?" he asks, voice low, gaze heavy.

you should say no.

but you don’t.

the second the door clicks shut behind you, he's on you.

his hands are firm, gripping your waist, pulling you against him, and his mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that's all heat and hunger.

"fuck, i've been thinking about this all night," he mutters against your lips, hands sliding down to grab your ass, pressing you harder against him.

you let out a soft gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan.

"jason," you breathe, "someone could—"

"don't care," he cuts you off, lips trailing down your neck, teeth scraping lightly against your skin. "you think i could focus on that game with you sitting up in the stands lookin' like that?"

your head tilts back as he kisses his way down, his hands already tugging at your tank top, pushing it up, exposing more skin to his touch.

"knew i had to have you the second i saw you walk through those gates," he murmurs, voice rough, "knew i wasn't gonna be able to wait."

you shiver at his words, at the sheer desperation in his tone, and then he's lifting you onto his desk, pushing between your legs, his mouth claiming yours again.

the kiss is messy, all tongue and teeth, years of restraint snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin.

"this is wrong," you whisper against his lips.

"doesn't feel wrong," he counters, hands sliding under your denim skirt, fingers tracing the lace of your panties.

you bite your lip, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

"lock the door."

he smirks, reaching back blindly, twisting the lock until it clicks.

and then he's back on you, pushing your skirt up higher, fingers slipping beneath the lace, finding you already soaked for him.

"fuck," he groans, "all this for me?"

you don't answer—not with words. instead, you reach for his belt, unfastening it with quick, eager fingers, pulling him free from his jeans.

he's hard, thick, the tip already leaking, and the sight alone makes your mouth go dry.

"tell me, baby," he urges, voice low and rough, "tell me you want this."

you meet his gaze, your breath shaky but sure.

"i want this, jay."

that's all he needs.

he pushes your panties aside, lining himself up, and then he's sinking into you, stretching you open inch by inch until he's fully seated inside you.

you both let out a low groan, his forehead dropping against yours, hands gripping your thighs as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

"shit," he mutters, "you feel so fuckin' good."

you clutch at the sides of his neck, nails digging into his skin, your body already trembling from the intensity of it all.

"move," you whisper, "fuck—please."

he doesn't make you beg twice.

his hips pull back, then snap forward, setting a deep, steady rhythm that has you gasping, your back arching against the desk.

the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the quiet creak of the desk beneath you, the wet, obscene sound of him fucking into you.

it's reckless. desperate. like you both know how wrong this is, but neither of you care enough to stop.

"so tight," he grits out, "so perfect. my perfect girl."

his hands grip your hips, guiding your movements, pulling you down to meet each thrust.

you bite your lip, trying to hold in your moans, but he notices—of course he does.

"don't hold back, baby," he murmurs, "wanna hear you."

his words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you let go, moaning his name as he fucks you harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot that has you seeing stars.

"jason—mm—fuck—"

"that's it, sweetheart," he groans, "love hearing you say my name."

you're close—so close you can barely breathe, your body tensing, your nails now dragging down his shoulder blades, the dip in his back.

"gonna come for me?" he teases, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles.

you nod frantically, clinging to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure building inside you.

"then come," he commands, voice rough with need. "wanna feel you squeeze me, baby."

his words push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling as you cry out his name.

he follows moments later, burying himself deep, groaning against your skin as he spills inside you, his grip on you tightening like he never wants to let go.

for a moment, there's nothing but heavy breathing, the sound of your racing hearts.

then, reality starts to creep back in.

he pulls back slightly, brushing hair from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek.

"you okay?" he asks, voice softer now.

you nod again, having trouble forming coherent sentences, still catching your breath.

he smirks, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"damn good thing we locked that door."

you laugh, shaking your head, but you don’t move—not yet.

because despite everything, despite knowing this was probably a mistake, there's a part of you that doesn't regret it.

not one bit.

BONUS.

it was bound to happen.

smallville was too small, too full of watchful eyes and nosy mouths.

but you weren't thinking about that the next time you found yourself in jason's office, pressed up against the door, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

"missed you," he murmurs against your lips, hands already pushing beneath your shirt, fingers rough with need. "been thinking about this all damn week."

you shiver, arching into him, your own hands tugging at his belt.

"you saw me three days ago," you tease, but your voice is breathless, betraying just how much you missed him too.

"not enough," he growls, spinning you around, pressing your front against the door as he grinds against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he already is.

you bite your lip, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

"then don't waste time," you whisper.

he doesn't.

his hands yank down your jeans, your panties, just enough to free you, and then his own zipper is undone, his cock pressing against your slick heat.

"fuck, baby girl," he groans, "always so ready for me."

you barely have time to brace yourself before he's sliding inside, stretching you open in that perfect way that makes your head spin.

"oh, jay—"

"shh," he murmurs, kissing the side of your neck, "gotta keep quiet, sweetheart. wouldn't want anyone hearing, right?"

but that's exactly what happens.

because just as he starts to move, the door handle jiggles.

"jason?"

a voice.

her voice.

lana.

you freeze.

jason stills behind you, his body tense, his grip tightening on your hips.

there’s a single, agonizing beat of silence.

then—

"why is the door locked?"

you barely have time to react before jason is pulling out, his hands quick as he tugs your jeans back up, fixing his own pants in record time.

your heart is hammering in your chest, panic rising fast.

"shit," you whisper, but jason is already moving, already composing himself.

he unlocks the door, cracking it open just enough to slip out, blocking the view inside with his body.

"hey," he says, voice calm, controlled, like he wasn't just buried inside you seconds ago. "what are you doing here?"

"i was looking for you," lana says, her voice soft but suspicious. "why was the door locked?"

"just… needed a minute," jason says smoothly. "long day."

there's a pause.

"who's in there with you?" lana asks, her voice sharper now.

your stomach drops.

jason hesitates—just enough for her to push past him, stepping into the office.

and then her eyes land on you.

her face shifts in an instant—confusion, then realization, then pure devastation.

"oh my god," she breathes.

you don't move.

"lana—" jason starts, but she's already backing up, shaking her head.

"don't," she cuts him off, her voice trembling. "don't you dare, jason."

the silence is suffocating.

then, she turns, storming out of the office without another word.

you exhale, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

"goddamnit," jason mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

you swallow hard, looking at him.

"what now?"

he looks back at you, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable.

"now," he says, "we deal with it."

but the real question is—how?

៸៸៸ special tags. @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @daylighted @beausling @jasvtsc @honeyryewhiskey ⎯⎯ if you wanna be tagged in any jason content, do let me know !!!

[chrissssssmut]

School setting ice queen popular girl x nerd prom story

F(x) Krystal Jung x male reader pls pls pls

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART

Popular girl Krystal Jung x Nerd Male Reader

AN: Made this during my free time! Super short though but hope this is good!☺️

High school was a hierarchy, and at the top sat Krystal Jung. Effortlessly beautiful, wickedly intelligent, and always carrying an air of indifference, she was the girl everyone wanted but no one could touch. She walked the halls with the confidence of someone who knew her place—above everyone else.

She was an enigma, the Ice Queen of the school. People admired her, envied her, desired her, but never truly knew her. She had no close friends, only followers. No one dared to push past her cool, composed demeanor because Krystal never let anyone close enough to try. Every confession of love she received was met with cold rejection, every attempt at friendship subtly brushed aside. It wasn’t that she was mean—she was just untouchable.

I, on the other hand, belonged at the bottom. Just another faceless nerd drowning in textbooks and obscure science facts, existing quietly in the background. That was fine. It was safe. People like Krystal and I didn’t cross paths, and life made sense that way.

I never spent much time thinking about her. Unlike the rest of the school, I didn’t see her as some unreachable goddess. To me, she was just another student—someone who happened to exist in the same building but had no impact on my life. While others obsessed over her, I had my books, my small corner of the world, and that was enough. I never wanted to be part of her orbit.

Until one week before prom.

“Be my date.”

I had been retrieving my notebook from my locker when I heard her voice. I turned, half expecting to see someone else, because Krystal Jung speaking to me? Impossible.

But there she was, standing in front of me, arms crossed, looking down as if I were an insect she had to negotiate with. Her uniform was pristine, her long dark hair perfectly straight, and her eyes? Cold. Calculating.

I blinked. “Huh?”

Krystal sighed, as if she already regretted talking to me. “Prom. You. Me.” She gestured vaguely. “We go together.”

I almost laughed. Almost. But her expression was unreadable, and something told me she wasn’t joking.

“I think you have the wrong guy,” I said, gripping my notebook tighter.

“No,” she said simply. “I don’t.”

That should’ve been the end of it. I should’ve walked away, let her realize her mistake, and carried on with my life. But Krystal Jung didn’t give people the option to ignore her. She lingered, waiting, expecting an answer.

“Why me?” I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice. “You could have anyone.”

Something flickered in her gaze. A shadow of irritation? Amusement? I couldn’t tell. “I have my reasons.”

Cryptic. Classic Ice Queen behavior.

I shook my head. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I wasn’t asking,” she cut in, her tone sharper. “I was informing you.”

That threw me off. I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, the cruel laughter that usually followed when people like her toyed with people like me. But it never came. Just Krystal Jung, staring me down like she was daring me to refuse.

And for some reason, I couldn’t.

The days leading up to prom were a blur of rumors and stares. Everyone wanted to know how the school’s most unattainable girl had ended up with the most forgettable guy. Some thought it was a prank, others a bet. A few wondered if I had blackmail on her. I had no answers.

Krystal, meanwhile, acted as if none of it mattered. She barely spoke to me outside of telling me what color my suit should be. When I tried to ask again why she picked me, she waved me off with a bored, “I just did.”

I should’ve let it go. I should’ve just enjoyed the fantasy of it all, but something about her choice gnawed at me. I started paying closer attention to her, watching how she interacted with others. She was polite, cold, detached. She smiled at the right moments but never too much. It was like she was playing a role, keeping a distance that no one dared to cross.

I started noticing things I hadn’t before. How she sat alone at lunch despite the crowd that always hovered around her. How people talked about her like she was a trophy rather than a person. How guys boasted about trying to win her over, but no one ever claimed to know her favorite movie, or whether she even liked being the queen of the school.

Then I realized—Krystal Jung had never been given a choice. The whole school had already decided who she was supposed to be.

Then prom night arrived.

I stood awkwardly outside the venue, adjusting my tie for the tenth time. People whispered when they saw me. Some smirked, some sneered. But when Krystal arrived—when she stepped out of the car in a sleek black dress, her gaze cool and unreadable—the entire room held its breath.

She walked toward me, unfazed by the attention. “You clean up okay,” she said.

I swallowed. “You look…” Breathtaking. Stunning. Unreal. “…Nice.”

She smirked, linking her arm through mine without hesitation. “Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, the dance was exactly what I expected—loud, crowded, overwhelming. I tried to stay out of the way, but Krystal never let go of me. She led me through the crowd like we belonged together, ignoring the way people whispered behind their hands.

Then came the slow dance.

Krystal turned to me expectantly, her hand outstretched. My throat went dry. “You…actually want to dance?”

“Isn’t that what people do at prom?” she deadpanned.

I hesitated, but she was already pulling me in. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder, the other slipping into my palm. I held my breath. She was so close I could smell her perfume—cool, crisp, like fresh rain.

“This isn’t a joke, right?” I asked quietly.

Krystal’s gaze flickered up to mine, something shifting in her expression. “No.”

For the first time since she asked me, she looked…different. Not cold, not indifferent. Just—Krystal.

“Then why?” I whispered. “Why me?”

She exhaled, her fingers tightening around mine. “Because,” she said, voice softer now. “You were the only one who never tried to change me.”

I thought back to all those times I had barely acknowledged her, how I had never idolized her, never treated her like she was some unattainable dream. To me, she was just another student, another person figuring things out. I never expected her to smile more, to be friendlier, to be anything other than what she was.

And that, apparently, was enough.

The weight of her words settled over me. It hit me then—how exhausting it must be to constantly live up to an image, to always be someone people admired but never truly saw. Everyone wanted Krystal Jung to be the Ice Queen. No one ever let her just be…a girl.

I didn’t know what to say to that. But as the music played and we swayed under the dim lights, I realized something.

For the first time all night, Krystal Jung wasn’t looking at anyone else.

Just me.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter why she chose me. Because I realized I wanted to be chosen.

[minxmut-cafe]

BEAR WITH ME ??

Pairing : Bear hybrid Namjoon x Ferret hybrid reader

Word count : 10k words.

Authors note : HAHDBDHD HELLO YOU GUYS!! I'm really excited to post this because I had ALOT of fun writing this. I love love LOVED the whole dynamic as well and tbf it's minor self insert because..I too can be a menace. Like I'm not THAT much of a menace but I've had enough complaints to know I am one lololol. I think I'm gonna post more stuff about these two. I've already planned a few more things and some other scenarios and stuff. Like I said I REALLY enjoyed the whole dynamic and i think you guys would as well. ALSO I've had to make 2 parts of this because I keep hitting the word count on the damn post. BE SURE TO LIKE BOTH PARTS And if you have any requests or query my requests and asks are always open. <3

Warning : Smut, Vaginal sex, oral sex (M & F receiving), hybrid sex, mentions of death, mention of heat, feral Namjoon, size kink, spanking, mating press, mentions of various sex positions, reader being a menace, Namjoons a gentle giant, rough sex, cunnilingus, idiots in love, reader is immature, Namjoon is suffering, HUGE size difference (Imagine gyomei and shinobu). Masturbation, Namjoons a boob guy. Titty analysis :)

Synopsis :

"Namjoon spots a Tiny ferret hybrid getting pushed around by a bunch of hyena hybrids and decides to intervene. Little did he know that would lead to a series of interesting, traumatising and hilarious memories, some of which he's convinced were attempted murder attempts."

The quad was bustling. Students milled about, chatting, heading to class, or loitering in the late afternoon sun. It was a typical day—except for the growing commotion near the campus fountain.

A group of hyena hybrids had circled someone.

Laughter, sharp and jeering, cut through the air.

And in the middle of it all stood her—half their size, shoulders squared, and pissed.

“Come on, sweetheart,” one of the hyenas drawled, tail flicking behind him. “We’re just playing.”

Another snickered. “Yeah, don’t be so...uptight.”

She scowled, baring her small, but very sharp teeth. “Say that again.”

“Ooooh.” They mocked her. “She’s got bite.”

A growl rumbled in her throat, but before she could launch herself at them—

A shadow loomed.

Everything stopped.

The hyenas stiffened, their ears flattening as a new presence entered the circle.

He was massive.

Towering over them like a walking monolith, broad shoulders casting a dark silhouette against the sun. His round glasses reflected the light, but his expression was unreadable.

A grizzly bear hybrid.

And not just any bear—one that could easily break them in half if he wanted.

The air shifted.

The hyenas hesitated—then, in a blur of nervous laughter, backed off. ��Relax, man. No need to get involved.”

And just like that, they scurried away.

Silence.

Then—

She turned, glaring up at her so-called savior.

“What, you wanna fight too?!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“EH?—NO—WAIT—” He lifted his hands, panicked. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—”

She squinted. Suspicious. “Then what do you want?”

“I just—” He struggled, fumbling for words. “I saw you getting pushed around and thought—”

“I had it handled,” she snapped.

Namjoon blinked.

Then, despite himself, a tiny smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah… I think you did.”

And that was how you met Kim Namjoon.

If anyone on campus had to describe their relationship, they wouldn’t know what to say.

It started with the hyena incident—which, in your opinion, wasn’t even that big of a deal. You had them handled. But then Namjoon had to come in like some big, overgrown hero, and suddenly, y'all were seeing each other everywhere.

Same lecture hall.

Same group projects.

Same spot at the café.

And for some stupid reason, you both always ended up together.

Namjoon, to his credit, was a bean. A giant, shy, soft-spoken bean who somehow made people nervous just by existing. He was taller than most— 7'3 to be exact, broader than all, and had the gentlest voice she’d ever heard. He was polite to everyone, rarely raised his voice, and for some reason, people still thought he was scary.

You , however?

You were half his size, twice the chaos, and nice to exactly one person.

Which meant one thing—

Once you were close enough, you never left him alone.

“Namjoon,” you huffed one afternoon, climbing onto him like a tree.

He blinked, startled, as you hoisted herself onto his back. “Uh—what—?”

“The quad’s packed. Carry me.”

He hesitated. “You have legs?”

“And you have muscles,” you shot back, wrapping her arms around his broad-ass shoulders. “I don’t see the problem.”

Namjoon sighed but adjusted his grip and carried you anyway.

Your classmates barely reacted. At this point, this was normal.

The first time you saw him shirtless, it was completely by accident.

You’d been raiding his fridge, sitting on his counter, happily munching away on his leftover dumplings when he walked in—

Fresh out of the shower.

Shirtless.

With his glasses still on.

Water dripped from his messy curls, his golden skin still damp from the steam. And, most importantly—

His chest.

His pecs.

You froze mid-bite.

Namjoon stopped in his tracks.

Silence.

Then—

“Oh,” you said casually, chewing. “Need help holding those up?”

Namjoon choked.

His entire face turned red. “W-What?!”

You grinned. “Y’know.” you gestured lazily. “Those badonks or if you want the more sophisticated name boobies.”

Namjoon spluttered, immediately grabbing the nearest hoodie and shoving it over his head. “I—THAT’S NOT—”

Too late.

You had already decided.

He was your new favorite toy.

You also had a bad habit of picking arguments you couldn’t win. It was in your nature as a ferret hybrid—small, scrappy, and absolutely lacking in self-preservation.

Namjoon, unfortunately, had a bad habit of ending those arguments in the most unfair way possible.

Lifting you.

It didn’t matter if you were mid-rant, arms flailing dramatically—he’d simply sigh, scoop you up with one arm, and hold you at arm’s length like a misbehaving kitten.

“PUT ME DOWN, YOU TREE!”

“Not until you calm down,” he’d say, voice as gentle as ever.

“I’LL BITE YOU.”

“You always say that, but you never do.”

You bared your teeth. “This time I mean it.”

He just sighed and adjusted his grip, holding you higher like you were some kind of unruly toddler.

It didn’t help that you also had a habit of climbing him in crowded spaces.

“Personal space,” Namjoon warned as you latched onto him like a koala in the cafeteria.

“No.”

“People are staring.”

“Let them. I’m comfy.”

“You’re on my back.”

“Again, comfy.” you huff.

He eventually just gave up and started carrying you without complaint.

Winter was the worst. You hated the cold.

Namjoon, however, was a walking furnace.

You quickly realized that hugging him was like curling up next to a heated blanket, and you took full advantage.

It started subtly—leaning against him during study sessions, pressing up to his side when you were sitting together. Then it escalated to full-on bear hugs at every opportunity.

At first, Namjoon tried to act like he wasn’t affected.

But then came the day you simply plopped onto his lap in the library.

He tensed, ears turning red. “What are you doing?”

“Getting warm,” you said, making yourself comfortable.

“I—you—you can’t just—”

“You’re literally a bear. This is your purpose.”

He spluttered but ultimately let you be. And from that day on, your lap privileges were unofficially granted.

You were a menace. He had accepted that. Truly. But there were moments that made him re-think everything.

Namjoon is trying to have a serious conversation with a professor.

You're behind the professor, making the most outrageous hand gestures.

At first, it’s subtle. A suggestive eyebrow wiggle. A tiny lip bite.

Namjoon notices. Regrets noticing immediately.

Then you gets bolder. You start doing obscene gestures.

Namjoon chokes mid-sentence.

Professor, slightly confused "Are you... alright, Namjoon?"

Namjoon, stiff as a board "Yes. Absolutely. Fine."

He tries to ignore you , but you keep going.

Pretending to sensually lick your fingers. Mimicking very inappropriate things.

Namjoon, mentally thought "Kill me. Just kill me now."

He knows if he calls you out, he will be the one looking guilty.

The second the professor leaves, he just picks you up and carries you away.

Namjoon, exasperated: "What is WRONG with you??"

You on the other hand? wheezing from laughter

"You should’ve seen your face—"

Namjoon, mutters under his breath "I swear I’m gonna kiss you just to shut you up."

And that makes you go quiet. (For once.)

At first, you didn’t notice anything was off.

Study sessions at Namjoon’s place had always been your favorite—his apartment was warm, cozy, and filled with books. He made the best tea, had the fluffiest blankets, and, most importantly, he didn’t mind when you sprawled out on his couch like you owned the place.

But then something changed.

Namjoon got sleepy. Not just normal sleepy—bear hybrid in hibernation mode sleepy.

At first, it was small things. He’d yawn more, stretch like a cat mid-sentence, blink at you drowsily while you ranted about your latest shenanigans. Then it escalated—he’d start dozing off while sitting up, nodding off mid-study session, even mumbling nonsense in his sleep.

And it was driving you insane.

“Namjoon,” you poked his cheek. “Focus.”

He blinked at you slowly. “I am.”

“You’re literally drooling on your book.”

He made a vague grumbling noise and turned his head, pressing his face into the couch cushion.

“Hey!” You shook him. “No sleeping, bear boy.”

“M’not sleeping,” he slurred. “M’listening.”

“You’re hibernating. You cannot just hibernate in the middle of exam season.”

He groaned, dragging a blanket over his head. “Just a little nap.”

You huffed. This wasn’t fair. You were used to a grumpy, flustered Namjoon, a Namjoon who sighed heavily whenever you did something unhinged. But now? Now he was too sleepy to react to your nonsense.

Boring.

So, naturally, you decided to fix it.

You waited until one particularly bad day when Namjoon was practically melting into his couch, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. His glasses were slipping down his nose, his book long forgotten as he blinked sleepily at the wall.

That’s when you struck.

You climbed onto the couch, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him.

“Wake up, you oversized teddy bear!”

Big mistake.

Before you could react, Namjoon made a low, grumbly noise and grabbed you.

“What the—”

You barely had time to squeak before you were yanked into his arms and smushed against his chest.

Panic set in.

“Namjoon.” You wiggled. His grip tightened.

Oh. Oh no.

You were trapped.

The weight of a freaking bear hybrid pressed down on you, limbs wrapped securely around your body. You struggled, but it was like being stuck under a weighted blanket from hell. Warm, cozy, and completely inescapable.

You tried logic. “Namjoon, you can’t just—”

A deep rumble cut you off. Not quite a growl. More like… a purr.

A sleepy, contented bear purr.

Your brain short-circuited. “Did you just purr at me?”

No response. Just another deep, satisfied hum as he nuzzled into your hair.

Oh. You were doomed.

For hours, you were trapped, helpless as Namjoon slept soundly, using you as his personal body pillow. Every attempt to escape was met with an unconscious squeeze, like a giant, affectionate bear reminding you no, you stay here now.

By the time he finally woke up, stretching with a yawn and blinking at you like he was surprised to find you in his arms, you were fuming.

“You absolute menace,” you growled. “I’ve been stuck here for hours.”

Namjoon tilted his head, still half-asleep. Then, with the softest, sleepiest smile, showing off his stupid dimples, he mumbled, “You’re warm.”

Your brain broke.

You didn’t know whether to slap him or melt into a puddle.

So, naturally, you did the only thing that made sense.

You bit him.

He didn’t even react. Too sleepy.

It was official. Namjoon’s hibernation phase was ruining your life.

He had gotten even lazier—falling asleep at random, mumbling nonsense, refusing to wake up no matter how much you poked, prodded, or even bit him. At this point, you were desperate.

So, one fateful morning, you took drastic measures.

You climbed onto his bed, glaring down at the oversized bear hybrid sprawled out like a crime scene. He was dead asleep, mouth slightly open, breathing slow and deep. You poked his cheek. No response.

Fine.

You swung one leg over him and straddled his waist, hands bracing against his broad chest. Then, with all your ferret hybrid determination, you bounced.

“WAKE UP, YOU LAZY—”

You didn’t get to finish.

Because in his drowsy, half-asleep state, Namjoon groaned—deep, low, and utterly sinful.

Then—his hands grabbed your hips.

You froze.

Before you could process it, his fingers tightened, large and warm as he guided you down against him.

Your breath hitched.

Something… hard pressed up between your legs. Not fully hard, but enough.

Then Namjoon—still completely asleep—let out a soft, breathy moan and rolled his hips up into yours.

Your soul left your body.

For a solid three seconds, you sat there, straddling a very large, very strong, very hard bear hybrid who was grinding against you in his sleep.

Then you did the only thing that made sense.

You screamed.

“YOU PERVERTED BEAR!”

With a panicked shriek, you slapped his chest so hard his pec jiggled.

Namjoon’s eyes snapped open.

He blinked at you, still groggy. Then he frowned.

Then he looked down.

The moment realization hit, his entire face exploded into red.

And then—he scrambled.

With an alarmed gasp, Namjoon flung himself back so violently that he nearly fell off the bed. He yanked the blanket up to his chest like a scandalized Victorian lady, clutching it as if it could protect his virtue.

“I—YOU—THIS—” He was stammering, eyes wide, scandalized beyond belief.

You, still red as hell, pointed a shaking finger at him. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” He practically wailed.

“You grabbed me!”

“I WAS ASLEEP!”

“You moaned!”

Namjoon made a horrified noise and buried his face in his hands.

“I’M GOING TO PASS AWAY,” he mumbled, voice muffled with shame. “RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.”

You were still flustered as hell, but seeing this six-foot-plus grizzly bear hybrid cowering behind a blanket like you had violated his innocence was too much.

Slowly, a grin curled onto your lips.

“Ohhh,” you drawled. “I see how it is.”

Namjoon peeked up at you, suspicious. “Don’t.”

“You were enjoying it, huh?”

His ears turned red. “STOP.”

“Does sleepy Namjoon have naughty dreams?”

“PLEASE.”

You smirked, leaning in. “Wanna finish what you started, perverted bear?”

Namjoon squeaked.

A full-grown grizzly bear hybrid. A literal terrifying predator.

And you made him squeak.

You were never letting him live this down.

Namjoon knew he was in for a bad day the moment you sat down across from him at lunch.

You were grinning.

Not just any grin—your shit-eating, up-to-no-good, gremlin grin.

Immediately, he sighed. “No.”

You blinked innocently. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

“I can feel the trouble radiating off of you.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “So, speaking of yesterday—”

Namjoon groaned. “No.”

“But I was just curious—”

“No.”

You leaned in, propping your chin on your hands. “Okay, but seriously. How big is your dick?”

Namjoon choked on his food.

“What the fuck?!” he coughed.

“Pure curiosity.” You smiled sweetly. “Scientific curiosity, if you will.”

He glared at you, ears burning. “I will snap you in half, you lanky menace.”

“Oh?” You cocked your head. “Because from what I felt yesterday—”

Namjoon dropped his head onto the table with a thud.

“I hate you,” he muttered into his arms.

You giggled, delighted, poking his bicep. “C’mon, you must have a guess. Seven? Eight? Should I be worried for my pelvic bone?”

He let out the most miserable sigh, running a hand down his face. “You do realize I’m a bear hybrid, right?”

“Exactly why I’m asking.” You smirked. “I am a scholar, you know.”

Namjoon groaned again, exhausted, leaning back in his chair. “If you mention my dick one more time—”

You blinked expectantly.

He stared at you, looking so done.

Then, in a moment of pure exasperation, he sighed and muttered, “I’ll bend you over and show you exactly how big it is.”

Silence.

Namjoon froze.

You froze.

He blinked. Then groaned. Loudly.

“I cannot believe I just said that,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

You were still in shock. Then, slowly, the widest, most devious grin spread across your face.

“Oh?”

“Don’t.”

“Ohhhh?”

Namjoon buried his face in his hands. “I need to leave. I need to walk into the ocean.”

You giggled, absolutely delighted, patting his arm. “Don’t worry, Joon. I promise I won’t tease you anymore.”

Namjoon peeked at you warily. “Do you actually promise?”

You smiled sweetly. “Absolutely not.”

He groaned, glaring at his food like it had personally betrayed him.

You had never had this much fun in your life.

Namjoon had accepted his fate.

You were tiny. You were chaotic. You were a menace to society.

And, apparently, you were also his personal weighted blanket.

Because somewhere along the way, you had decided his lap was your permanent seat.

It wasn’t even something you seemed to think about anymore—you’d just waltz over, plop down onto his thighs, and continue on with your life as if you weren’t making his brain short-circuit every damn time.

And the worst part? Namjoon let you.

Like an idiot.

Right now, you were curled up against him, legs folded, tablet in hand as you scribbled notes. Namjoon was trying to focus on his computer, but it was hard when you kept fidgeting—shifting, adjusting, wiggling against him like you were trying to test the limits of his self-control.

You had no idea what you were doing to him.

Absolutely none.

It didn’t help that you looked unfairly adorable—pouting slightly as you concentrated, lips pursed, occasionally kicking your feet.

Fuck.

His bear instincts were so confused. Because on one hand, he knew you were just being your usual ferret-self, but on the other, something in him kept whispering, Mate?

It didn’t help that sometimes—like right now—you’d look up at him suddenly, big eyes blinking, only to reach up and poke his cheek.

“Joonbug.”

Namjoon swallowed thickly. “Yeah?”

You grinned, leaning in slightly. “Your face is funny when you concentrate.”

He rolled his eyes, forcing himself to focus on his screen. “Thanks, I guess.”

But when he turned back, he realized—your face was so close. If he just—if he leaned in—

Namjoon immediately tensed and looked away.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

And the worst part?

You fell asleep there.

Like a goddamn purring cat.

One second you were awake, the next you were snuggled into his chest, soft little breaths tickling his pecs. Namjoon froze, entire body stiff.

He could feel your warmth.

The soft rise and fall of your chest.

The way your body just—just fit against his.

And then—the final straw.

You shifted slightly, and his gaze accidentally dropped to your shirt.

Or, more specifically, down your ridiculous little Henley.

Namjoon stared.

Not on purpose. Not really. It was just—he was a man. A man with eyes. And you were—

Oh.

He hadn’t really… evaluated before.

Nice.

Good shape.

One slightly bigger. Completely normal

And… a bit bigger than he anticipated.

Hm.

Namjoon blinked, mind blank for a moment. Then—

Wait.

WAIT.

His face exploded into red, eyes snapping forward like he had just witnessed a war crime.

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

He threw himself back into his work, typing aggressively, but it was too late.

Because now, against his will, his brain had a new intrusive thought:

I wonder how they’d feel in my hands?

Namjoon malfunctioned.

He needed to leave. He needed to die.

But mostly?

He needed to get you off his lap.

Before he lost his goddamn mind.

Namjoon refused to acknowledge what had just happened.

Refused.

You were asleep on his lap, blissfully unaware of his horrible, terrible, no-good intrusive thoughts. And yet, despite his best efforts to suppress the chaos in his brain, his traitorous bear instincts decided to betray him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His tail, the absolute bastard, started tapping against the floor.

It wasn’t his fault! His tail did that when he was content, or comfortable, or—fuck—when he was embarrassed.

Which meant that right now?

It was practically broadcasting to the entire world that Namjoon was a mess.

And, of course, because the universe hated him, you began to stir.

He immediately froze.

No.

No, no, no—

You let out a sleepy little hum, eyes barely cracking open as you blinked up at him, dazed and soft.

Then, in a tiny, adorable voice—

“You good, Joonie?”

Namjoon short-circuited.

Every cell in his body screamed NO, I AM NOT GOOD, I AM HAVING A CRISIS OVER YOUR TITS.

But externally?

He just choked out, “Yeah.”

You blinked again, staring at him for a moment. Then, much to his horror, your gaze drifted past his shoulder

To his still-thumping tail.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across your face.

“Oh?”

Namjoon’s soul left his body.

“N-no,” he stammered, ears burning.

But you—being the absolute menace that you were—tilted your head.

“Ohhh?”

He panicked. “I—shut up.”

You giggled, snuggling back into his chest. “Your tail’s cute, y’know.”

Namjoon let out the longest sigh of his life.

This was actual suffering.

And you?

You were enjoying every second of it.

And Namjoon?

Namjoon was suffering.

He was suffering, and it was your fault.

Ever since the tail betrayal, he had been on edge, constantly catching himself thinking things he absolutely should not be thinking.

And it only got worse.

Because you kept sitting on his lap.

You kept looking up at him with those wide eyes.

You kept giggling, doing your little gremlin antics, completely oblivious to the war inside his head.

And the worst part?

He liked it.

Namjoon liked having you on his lap.

He liked the way you poked his cheek, teasing him.

He liked when you fidgeted, shifting against his thighs, completely unaware of how much damage you were doing.

So, tonight?

Tonight, as he flopped onto his bed, exhausted, his brain finally snapped.

“Dammit. Fuck.”

But then—

Fuck her.

Fuck… her.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck… how would it feel to fuck… her?

Namjoon froze.

His entire body locked up as his brain betrayed him, conjuring up images—images of you under him, gasping, giggling, teasing him even as he—

NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE.

He let out a strangled groan, flinging an arm over his face in denial.

Then, hesitantly—dread pooling in his stomach—he glanced down.

…Yep.

He was hard.

Namjoon let out the longest, most miserable sigh of his life.

This was actual hell.

And you?

You had no idea.

Namjoon lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling like it personally wronged him.

This was your fault.

Absolutely, entirely your fault.

Because if you weren’t such a tiny, chaotic, adorable menace, then maybe—maybe—he wouldn’t be in this situation.

But, no.

No, you had to go and sit in his lap all the time.

You had to poke his cheeks, tease him, giggle like a damn gremlin.

You had to look at him with those big, innocent eyes, completely unaware of the monster you were creating.

And now?

Now, here he was—rock hard, frustrated, and miserable.

Namjoon sighed deeply.

Then, resigned, he reached for the tissues and lotion.

It wasn’t like this was new.

He was a man. He had needs. And if he was going to be suffering anyway, he might as well… deal with it.

So, with a groan, he stripped, settled in, and started his very familiar routine.

…He was not thinking about you.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

But when his eyes fluttered shut, when his hand started moving—

A vision of you flashed through his mind.

Your lips, parted slightly.

Your thighs, spread beneath him.

Your voice, giggling—What’s wrong, Joonie? Cat got your tongue?

Namjoon whined.

This was a problem.

A very big problem.

This was supposed to be quick.

A means to an end.

Just get it over with, clear his head, move on.

But the second his hand wrapped around his cock—his traitorous brain ran wild.

At first, it was just flashes.

Your tits.

Your ass.

The memory of you sitting in his lap, shifting just right–

But then, his mind dove deeper.

The "perverted bear" incident surfaced.

The weight of your body bouncing on top of him, your tiny hands pressing against his chest, your soft little gasp when you felt him—

Namjoon bit his lip, groaning softly.

He should stop.

He should not be thinking about this.

But he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Because then he imagined more.

You, beneath him.

Your legs spread wide.

Your body so tiny compared to his—so soft, so helpless against his weight.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

Fuck.

Fuck.

A mating press.

The size difference.

The way you’d squirm, overwhelmed, panting, looking up at him with those big, adorable eyes—

"Fuck," he gasped, hips jerking into his hand.

This was so bad.

So, so bad.

But it felt so fucking good.

And the worst part?

He didn’t want to stop.

Not when his mind was already drowning in the thought of you, spread out, filled to the brim—

His.

Completely his.

CONTINUATION OF CHAPTER

[little-miss-of-the-sky]

THANOS RELATHIONSHIP HEADCANONS

-He would buy cheap purple hair dye and dye your hair, so that you would match. Your clothes of the day will probably end up very stained but his satisfied smile is enough to forget it 

-He likes when you do your nails together, even if he doesn't do it perfectly . He will wait for the moment when you are focused to flirt with you, just to annoy you :

Senorita ? You're sexy today, you know it ?

Thanks you , but shut up if you want you nails done right . 

-Nam-Gyu called you often to pick him up after a concert, when he was too high to Come Home . Thanos will yap during the whole way home, switching from love raps to you to complaining about Nam-Gyu 

-He is very touchy . Like extremly touchy . He likes to hold you on his laps and just burry his face in the crook of your neck, to breath your scent . He will sometimes grap your butt in public

-He had definitly tried to get you to do drugs with him and pouted when you said no . But he wasn't very angry, because a part of him knew you were to kind for this . 

-He was quite scared to introduce you to his mom, because he had already disappointed her so many times. He really wanted her to like you , his reason of not messing up totally. So , he was happy to see you both talking, like his mother just found the daughter she never got the chance to have. 

-He can't stop moving during his sleep , one hour, he would take all the place and covers of the bed, and the other, he would be curled up against your chest like a little kid. 

-When he is high, he could be really harsh and would immediatly regret it, holding you and trying to (really ) apologize :

Listen , y'a know i'm sorry ? I didn't mean of this bullshit, my beautiful girl . 

-He didn't talk to you about his problems, because you had already done so much for him . Though your gentle touch was what kept him from going on that bridge earlier. 

-During Squidgame, he would keep playing for him, and for you too . To give you the life you deserve, and the pet you want so much. 

-Everyone in the Thanos team knew everithing about you, Se-Mi is just done but Gyeong-su would be the most eager one to know about you . Thanos almost felt your sad gaze when he pushed Gyeong-su in mingle

-During the bathroom fight, after Myung-Gi killed him, his last thoughs were for you . He needed to stay alive, right ? To buy you a little golden retriever, to see you smile at him , to say the thanks he always kept in his mouth . He told himself he was just resting for a while, and the darkness will became brightness again . 

  BUT IT NEVER DID .  

(It's my first time writing in a while so i hope it's not to ooc ! English is not my first language)

[lakesparkles]

I finally finished the first chapter - I'm calling it prologue - of my college AU Thanos Team fanfiction.

For now, I'll post it here under the cut:

Prologue

.

.

.

Gyeong-su is sure he can change Nam-gyu's life

—

(NOTE: the first thing I want to do is apologize about Nam-gyu because he’s an asshole in this chapter)

 The room was still dark and Nam-gyu wasn't sure why he’d woken up. He mumbled softly, trying to go back to sleep and failing... For some reason. His mind was too groggy to think of anything in that situation.

 Only after a few seconds did he realize his cell phone was ringing, the music irritating his hearing and immediately stressing him out.

 "What is it!?" He complained in a slurred voice, as if the device could answer him. At the same time, he slammed his hand against the cabinet next to his bed, where he remembered leaving his cell phone charging. He needed to wait for his eyes to get used to the light so he could read the name on the screen:

 "Mom," was all it said.

 So he ignored it, suddenly more alert. Why would she even...?

 No. He wouldn't even think about it. It was way too early for that.

 When the phone went silent again, Nam-gyu closed his eyes and rolled over in bed, covering his head so he could fall asleep faster. Fuck it, he still had a few hours of sleep left, he wasn't going to lose them because of something like that.

 Or, apparently, he was wrong.

 Not even three minutes had passed when his ears picked up another noise. This time, coming from the bedroom door. Three quick knocks and then:

 "Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu? Can I come in? I'm going in, okay?"

 No sooner said than done, his door was opened completely. Nam-gyu growled, removing the blanket and sitting on the bed:

"What the hell... What time is it?" He asked, still reluctant and barely able to open his eyes due to the sudden light.

 "Uh... 5:15 am?" Gyeong-su asked more than answered, walking towards his bed.

Without saying a word, Nam-gyu laid down for the second time. But of course his friend didn't accept that, pulling his arm and continuing: 

 "No, no way! You agreed to this yesterday!"

 "I didn't-"

 "Of course you did! It was last night, man! There's no way you don't remember, get up!"

 "Today's Sunday!"

 "That's exactly why!"

 "Fuck you!"

That didn't work and, when he realized, Gyeong-su had already pulled him out of bed and placed him standing next to himself. The little shit was now smiling proudly, his hands resting on his waist:

 "I programmed an entire map for our route today. You'll like it, believe me! Did you know there's a forest behind that pharmacy? The one right behind the-"

 Nam-gyu got tired of hearing it, going straight out of the room. At least this time, Gyeong-su got the message and shut up, just following him down the narrow hallway. It was the least he could do, considering he was dragging Nam-gyu for a "morning walk" (he had called it that, not Nam-gyu).

 He walked straight to the bathroom, pausing at the door for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement in front of him: it was almost imperceptible, but he was sure it was Se-mi entering her own room, slamming the door shut. This irritated him, to say the least. Nam-gyu took a step back, getting closer to his friend:

 "Why did this bitch come to live here if she doesn't even have an ounce of manners?"

 "Hey, it's not nice to call-"

 "Shut up. Have you even talked to her? Does she ever leave her room?"

 "I thought you'd think that was a good thing," Gyeong-su shrugged, "so you don't have to look at her face."

 "Clever," Nam-gyu gave a rare compliment, closing the door behind him. As he went to the bathroom and returned to his room to change, he kept thinking about Se-mi.

 He and Gyeong-su had rented the apartment two months ago, which meant that neither of them really got used to it yet. Nam-gyu had known the other for years, but he wouldn't describe him as a close friend. It just so happened that they both needed to share a rent, and even then, they realized that their money wouldn't be enough anyway.

 In order to avoid having to move into a tiny, one-room place, they sacrificed one of the bedrooms in their current apartment and tried their luck. He would never imagine that a woman would offer to split the cost of the bills, but Se-mi was apparently desperate.

 Maybe. Nam-gyu knew very little about her.

 They went to the same university, were close in age, and that was where his knowledge about the woman ended. Se-mi didn't talk much, staying locked in her room during the rare moments she was home. It didn't take a genius to guess that this would never work out. He was surprised she hadn't given up since the beginning of the two weeks she'd been there.

 Yeah.

 Nam-gyu shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't even care that much about the bitch in the first place. She was a total jerk, that's what.

 So he focused on the closet in front of him, choosing a random black T-shirt and pulling it over his head. Once he was dressed, he fixed his hair with his hands and tucked a few strands behind his ears.

 Then he crossed the hallway for good, heading for the kitchen. As if on autopilot, he opened the door of the fridge and picked up a bottle of whiskey. His throat was dry, but before he could unscrew the cap, the bottle was taken from his hands.

 "Hey!" He exclaimed.

 "No, no, no!' Gyeong-su held it up high so he couldn't reach it, even though the other was struggling beside him. He hadn't even noticed him approaching. "You made me promise not to let you drink it for breakfast!"

 "I never said that!"

 "Yes, you did. Nam-gyu, it was last night!"

 "If I don't remember, it's clearly not what I really wanted."

 "You were in a really bad state, man. Cold sweat and everything. You looked me in the eyes and said, 'I can't live like this anymore, Gyeong-su, you need to change my life,' and that's what we're going to start doing from today!" He told everything with dramatic gestures, which indicated that that wasn't really what had truly happened.

 For some reason unknown even to him, Nam-gyu gave up.

"I promise" Gyeong-su ran after him after putting away the whiskey and grabbing a bottle of water in its place. "I will change your life!"

For both their sakes, Nam-gyu kept his opinion to himself.

---

 "Oh wait, man, I forgot my watch!"

 "Can't you just go without it?" As soon as Nam-gyu finished his sentence, Gyeong-su had already run into the apartment once again.

 They hadn't even been out for 30 seconds.

 With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, taking advantage of the free time to light a cigarette and place it between his lips. His vision was a little blurry as he looked through the small window on the other side of the hallway. It was a simple view, just a tree branch moving with the wind. Maybe it was slightly colder outside.

 Whatever. His head hurt, it felt like it was about to explode.

 Had he really talked about all that with Gyeong-su last night?

 He tried his best to clear his memories, but all he remembered was the two of them sitting on the couch. It didn't seem like a serious conversation, his mouth even hurt from laughing so much at that time. Was Se-mi there? Somehow, she was there. Maybe to tell them to shut up. Or... Did she stay longer? Did she talk to both of them? No, it couldn't be. Se-mi had never acted like that before.

 He was probably making a funny face as he tried to remember. When he came back to reality, he realized that someone was staring at him.

 "What is it?" Nam-gyu asked, raising his chin, trying to look intimidating even though he wasn't very successful.

 The boy in front of him straightened his posture as if he’d been startled.

He never saw him there before. He was short and wore a navy blue sweater. If that wasn't enough, he had a kind of pathetic look, as if he was about to faint.

 Nam-gyu just took a drag on his cigarette, pretending to ignore him.

 "Eh..." The other man spoke in a low voice, however, after a few seconds. "Do you know where apartment 75 is?"

 "No," Nam-gyu replied with a small smile.

 "Do you live here? In the building, I mean. It's just that I'm new and I forgot..."

 "Did you forget where your own apartment is? Seriously?"

 "I've never been here in person, this is the first day I've..."

 With each passing second, Nam-gyu found it more amusing, without even trying to hide it. As soon as he pushed himself off the wall, he pointed to the number on the door right next to him: 75.

 "Have you thought about taking a vision test? " He asked the boy, still in a good mood.

 The other didn't share the same feeling, mumbling an apology under his breath and unlocking the apartment to go in. Why had he even apologized to him?

 Weird guy.

 He'd been distracted by that for so long that only then did he notice how Gyeong-su hadn't come back yet. Nam-gyu peeked inside his own dark apartment, part of him barely able to resist the urge to just run away and come back there only at night, when his friend already forgot all that nonsense.

 He regretted not having followed through with the plan as soon as Gyeong-su appeared in his sight, straightening the watch on his wrist and letting out an exclamation:

 "Hey, no, no!" He wasted no time in trying to take the cigarette from Nam-gyu's hand. "That counts too, you made me promise not to let you smoke in the morning as well!"

 Nam-gyu elbowed him lightly, making it clear how he didn't care. So much so that he soon changed the subject:

 "What took you so long? Were you chatting with the bitch?"

 Gyeong-su gave him a reprimanding look as soon as the two began walking down the hallway. With that alone, Nam-gyu knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

 "She’d just woken up," Gyeong-su admitted. "She wanted to know how the TV remote worked, can you believe it?"

 "So she talks to you," Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised and a little betrayed. Gyeong-su didn't say a word, just sighed. The two reached the top of the stairs at the end of the hallway, Nam-gyu taking the lead to go down two steps at a time. Now that he wasn't facing the other, it was easier to ignore the discomfort and finally ask:

 "I talked to her yesterday too, didn't I?"

 "You really don't remember anything?" Gyeong-su followed closely behind him, dragging his entire arm along the railing.

 "I remember some things," Nam-guy raised his chin, half telling the truth, half lying. "We laughed for a long time."

 "Yeah! Because of you, man!"

 "Oh yeah..?"

 The two finished the two flights of stairs, arriving at the first floor. Gyeong-su was distracted for a few seconds, checking if there was any new mail for their apartment and realizing that the mailbox was empty. Shrugging, he walked back to Nam-gyu's side so they could leave the building. "You told me a lot of things! Like that time a guy at the club almost got you fired because he mistook you for someone else."

 "I told Se-mi that!?" This time, he didn't even think to hide his shock. Gyeong-su found it all very funny. He put his hand in front of his mouth to laugh lightly.

 Wait.

 "You're making it all up! That's it, isn't it?" Nam-gyu started to get suspicious, hating how he felt slightly embarrassed now.

 "Of course not! All of this happened for real, you can ask Se-mi."

 Then Nam-gyu realized it was better to concentrate on his cigarette, walking quickly and straightening his hair once more. The actual best thing would be to stop thinking about it. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be able to remember everything. So who cared?

 He looked around, trying to distract himself. There were only trees, buildings and houses, nothing too impressive. The wind blew hard against the branches. It wasn't necessarily cold, but he was starting to regret not having put on a coat. Maybe he should go back and get one, it wasn't like he was that far from the apartment. And he always felt more comfortable when he wore long coats, in the first place. Not that he has any insecurities about his arms, of course. And he would never feel comfortable having a conversation like that with someone he barely knew, especially with... Her.

 God, he was really bad at that.

 Why couldn't he stop thinking about that bitch?

 He let out a loud groan, making Gyeong-su jump in fright:

 "What the fuck are we doing out here!?" He spoke louder than he should've, letting out all the frustrations he was feeling since he woke up.

 Gyeong-su stared at him at first, with his eyebrows raised and his eyes slightly wide. He received that same look countless times before, and Nam-gyu didn't appreciate it. He knew it was his friend's silent way of saying he was worried about him. As if Nam-gyu were just a lost puppy.

 "I already told you," Gyeong-su began, in that slow and serious tone, speaking as if Nam-gyu was too dumb to understand simple sentences. "You told us some stories and then out of nowhere you complained about how shitty your life is."

 "I didn't do that."

 "Nam-gyu! Same thing again? You did! You spent like two minutes straight just talking about how the lowest point was having to share an apartment with people like us. We were pissed! You belittled my work-"

 "Rightly so. What work?" Nam-gyu rolled his eyes.

 "Hey! And Se-mi too, especially her. You said that she only didn't have a decent life because she was a disgusting prostitute who wasn't even good enough to get clients to rent a small studio apartment."

 "Okay, I believe that part."

 Gyeong-su rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly:

 "Why are you like that with her? Only with her? Did she do something to you?"

 "Yes," no.

 "What?"

Nam-gyu didn't feel like answering, so he didn't.

---

Nam-gyu had no idea what he was expecting. He felt like an idiot once he realized that part of him almost wished Gyeong-su was right. That they would leave the apartment, walk around and something would suddenly change. He woke up with that weird weight on his chest, and that made it hard to concentrate on anything else. His head was also throbbing and he would occasionally sip from the bottle of water that Gyeong-su carried in the side pocket of his backpack. Both of those things, however, could easily be explained by the hangover. He was more used to waking up like that than not, that almost becoming his usual.

 But the weird feeling on his chest? That was rarer. Or at least it used to be. Until he moved to this apartment. However, once again, he was starting to get used to it.

 Shit. He shook his head and looked up. Then at Gyeong-su.

 "Look, look!" His friend skipped ahead of him and pointed down the ravine they were walking on at that moment. "You can see our building from here!'

  "Wow." Nam-gyu said sarcastically.

 Gyeong-su lowered his head, still smiling a little:

 "Can you at least pretend to be having a little fun? I'm feeling a little bad now."

 Nam-gyu opened his mouth, ready to give any answer that would make him shut up again. Why he didn't, was a mystery even to him. For a second, he sighed softly. Maybe it was because of the isolated environment, far from anyone else who could hear him. Maybe it was because, besides Gyeong-su, he had no one else to comment on that matter.

All he knew was that the words that came out of his mouth were:

 "My mother called me this morning."

 Gyeong-su's entire posture changed. He lowered his shoulders, becoming more serious despite grunting an "uhhhh", waving one of his hands in the air.

 As Nam-gyu already said, he and Gyeong-su had never been very close. They barely knew about each other's personal tastes or how they lived before that shared house. All Nam-gyu knew about his new friend was about the stupid games he played live for a bunch of idiots who donated money to him. And all Gyeong-su knew about him, apparently, was about his mother.

 "What the hell, man," He tried to comfort Nam-gyu, placing his free hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

 "With you? Obviously not!" Then Nam-gyu returned to his normal behavior, rolling his eyes. He was almost offended that the other even considered that possibility.

 To keep the uncomfortable conversation from going on, he started walking again. The entire path in front of him consisted of the same thing: trees. He only knew where to go because of the thin, straight path beneath his feet, probably formed by the amount of people who preferred to take shortcuts there rather than walk through the buildings and convenience stores.

 The sun escaped through the yellow leaves, and now it was less cold, fortunately. He felt slightly more at ease, until Gyeong-su took the lead with quick steps and went back to narrating everything he saw, pointing out every useless detail like a tour guide.

 Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, pleased that the other ignored the previous subject so easily.

 "I'm just waiting for the moment when you 'change my life'" Nam-gyu let himself laugh a little at the situation.

 "Calm down," The other said with a confidence disproportionate to reality. "You need to be a little more patient."

(NOTE: This chapter was basically nothing, this is why I'm calling it "prologue". It'll only make more sense once there are more chapters, the sole reason for all these scenes was to introduce Nam-gyu's life. And because I think it's funny to note how grumpy and different he is when he's with anybody else other than Thanos)

[aaplecore]

Babysitting

(Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

Summary: Agatha—your long time neighbor and crush—agreed to take on the tiring job of watching Wanda’s twins for the weekend. Of course she needs some way to de-stress.

Warnings/tags: no smut, just a couple of minor nsfw moments

Notes: Hiii !! This is my first ever post so I have almost no idea how this works or if this is any good… but wtv :)

If you have any tips or suggestions pls share them but also if you have any reqs or ideas (aus, plots, characters, etc) PLEASE tell me !!

Anyway, I hope you like this short, silly little thing <33

It was eight thirty at night. On a Friday. And, for some reason, Agatha Harkness was incessantly dialing you.

For a few years now, you and Agatha had been nextdoor neighbors—to her left—in Westview. It was the perfect town. Almost like living in a sitcom. But, the best part about it was her. You were always over at her house or inviting her over for a glass of wine, talking for hours about anything and everything. She was witty, sarcastic and quite confident—although it definitely worked for her. Each time you two hung out, you felt a familiar flutter in your chest and when she smiled that damn smile a heat between your legs. Plus, you could’ve sworn she was flirting with you. Each time you were together, you’d hear some variation of:

“What a pretty little thing you are… how has someone not scooped you up yet?”

“Well, don’t you look beautiful today? Is this all for me, love?”

“I swear, no one in this neighborhood has any sense of style other than the two of us, doll.”

In that same low, almost gravely, beautiful voice. You figured that was just how she acted around everyone. You just… weren’t quite used to it.

Anyway, you weren’t entirely sure why your neighbor would need your help… especially this late at night. Due to your little crush—and god, that felt so high-school to say, but there really was no better explanation—that you’d been harboring for some time now, your mind was wandering to non-safe-for-work places. But of course it wasn’t that. At least you figured it couldn’t be that.

…And of course it wasn’t (to your dismay). Agatha sounded either like she was about to crush something or start screaming when you finally picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, hon, I need you to come over to Wanda’s house. To the right of mine. I’m… well, i’m having some trouble with the twins. If I don’t have another sane adult to talk to, I will lose my shit. Don’t ask, okay?”

She said quickly, leaving no room for you to argue (not that you would have anyway). Your only question was: why Wanda’s house? And what was Agatha doing with the twins?

Even despite the questions swirling in your mind, you packed up your purse and headed over to Wanda’s house, only a few doors down from yours. As per usual, the lawn was perfectly manicured, nicely trimmed shrubs leading up the pathway to the entrance. You always wondered how she managed to keep it so perfect.

Anyway, after ogling at her house, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for it to open. The only cue that someone was coming was the quick, loud footsteps racing to the door… faster than anyone’s normally should be. Before you could even begin to question what that was about, the door swung open and you saw Tommy standing there, looking up at you. He just… stood and blinked for a second.

“Aunt Agnes! There’s a girl here, what do I do?”

He called out, turning back to look at Agatha… who was walking down the stairs, her normally perfectly kept—and absolutely stunning—dark brown hair was tied up into a messy bun. She was wearing black jeans and a purple sweater over a purple button up with her classic locket pin. And god damn, it shouldn’t be legal for anyone to look this good in that outfit.

She rushed up to the door when she saw you, finally taking a deep breath. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, she is whisking you inside, her arm around your shoulder and the other rubbing your arm. Her hands were warm, and her grip on you was firm. The feeling of her gangly caressing your arm made the butterflies in your stomach flutter for just a second.

“Thank gods you’re here. These kids are going to be the death of me.”

She hissed at you, guiding you into the kitchen so she could at least hide behind a wall and make sure the twins couldn’t hear her—and, really, even disheveled she still looked hot. Distractingly so.

“Wanda and Vision are away for the weekend. They asked me to babysit—god knows why—and did not tell me how goddamn energetic their kids are. I swear to god they’re running on endless batteries.”

She huffs, leaning against the counter opposite to where you’re standing. For a second, you look down to the way her arms look with the sleeves of her purple sweater pulled up. But you quickly pull your eyes back to hers. You’re here to help, not to ogle.

“And… you called me why, exactly?”

You ask, crossing your arms like hers, mirroring the position on the opposite counter.

Agatha just smiles back at you, the grin on her face nothing short of devilish.

“Well, doll, you must know I think you’re quite a… beautiful girl, right?”

She asks, standing off of the counter, looking down at you just a little due to the height difference. You only nod in response.

“Right, so… I figured you could help me… de-stress. I’ve got the boys playing hide and seek and their bedtime is at 9. It’s…”

She glances down at her watch.

“It’s 8:45. Fifteen more minutes, then they’ll be fast asleep… and we have the house to ourselves. It’s high-time we got a little girls time.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you in a way that tells you she isn’t just asking you to play truth or dare and try an ouija board. For a second, you look as confused as Tommy had when he first opened the door, just blinking at her, your face already hot thinking about what that could possibly mean. What you want it to mean.

“What?”

You ask simply, shaking your head in disbelief. She takes a step closer.

“Listen, hon, do you think i’ve missed the way you stare at me whenever I come over for a glass of wine? I’m not an idiot, darling.”

She laughs, still smirking at you.

“And we both know you understand what i’m asking.”

She is… blunt. That’s for sure. You never expected a call for babysitting help would result in… this. You never even thought this was a possibility. You open your mouth to say something but, before you can, she cuts you off again, coming closer and snaking her hand around your waist, causing a shiver down your spine and a flush to your cheeks.

“By all means, tell me to stop. We can forget about all of this if you want to. I just get the sense that you don’t want to, hm?”

She gingerly tilts your chin up slightly, and by the way she looks at you, you’d guess she’s examining each and every detail of your face. Like she’s trying to memorize the view.

“Right.”

You quickly nod. Agatha smile turns wider, and she grips your waist slightly tighter, pulling you in closer to her while simultaneously holding you against the counter. Her other hand moves from your chin to your neck, and she begins gently running her hand through the hair there, smiling as she does. For a moment, you just stand there like that, her body pressed against yours, tracing light patterns onto your waist, looking down at you like… well, like prey.

“I- I just didn’t think… you would ever think of me that way.”

You stutter, shaking your head as you look at her. She cocks her head to the side as if you’d just asked her for the answer to an obvious question.

“Oh, love, i’ve been flirting with you for months now… was I not obvious enough?”

She asks, laughing quietly, leaning down to speak closer to your ear.

“Anyway, that’s exactly what I was hopping to hear, darling… Although i’m hoping to hear a lot more coming from you later tonight.”

She mutters, leaning in closer to you with a smirk, so that your lips are almost touching. You can feel her breath against your face, smell her perfume—something floral, but woody—and feel the ghost of her lips against yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest and all you want is for her to pull you in just a little more… but she doesn’t. Instead, she drops her hand down to your hip and whispers in your ear again,

“Ten more minutes until the boys bedtime. Then i’ll have my way with you, hon.”

She practically purrs, gripping your hip just a bit tighter, running her lips from your ear down your neck, brushing over your pulse point just enough to make you shiver…before suddenly letting go and walking away as if nothing had happened, a smug smile on her face.

“Meet me in the guest room in ten, doll.”

Still, your heart was beating, your face surely flushed scarlet red by now. You missed her touch. The way she gipped your hip had you clenching around nothing already… and this time none of it was fantasy.

By the time you’d finally got a grip on the situation, you were already walking around to find the guest room. Just to help Agatha de-stress, of course.

[thatbitchery]

Pick me behavior sickens me more than actual sickness could sicken me I can not think of one thing more unladylike than auditioning for something as stupid as acceptance. Yes when you don't have status markers when you are ugly or poor or nameless sometimes you do have to lick the floor will your pride pay your bills? Help you survive? Even then I can not watch it. Go be ew far from eyes of mine.

Had a conversation with a pick me this morning and if flying and exams didn't already ruin my mood this 🚮did. It's hard enough to meet a fully black person let alone girl in these roads I walk so when I met an African even mixed it's like Jesus praise the Lord. I actually get excited so I see this girl and it passes we share the motherland and ugh. Finally. I've swam in snow for so long I thirst for chocolate so we go on and on about it and obviously at some point it hits the political marker? How? We've both been to the same countries mostly and we bond over it and I say well I'm not confined by 'rich' or 'poor' I just like what I like. I like private jets and I also like Starbucks I don't have a poverty mindset so I don't rank things by price Im self centered I rank them by me. I am my unit of measure so yes I like Starbucks even if it's poor people drinks. She goes yes but you know I no longer take it. I'm waiting for an actual reason like it's unhealthy or an actual tangible reason and this thing hits me with *Free Palestine*. I laugh say mama I can not give a single fuck about Palestine if you paid me to. She gives me the Oh so you're an Israeli supporter you- I say naw I don't give a single faaaaaaak about Israel or Ukraine or Russia or Afghanistan I genuinely do not care who is killing who for what I want Starbucks I'm getting Starbucks idk what "cancelled it" if it's my money I get what I want. This thing gives me a humanitarian speech and I just walk out mid because

Extremely unobservant of you to try guilt trip me do I looooooook like I have ANY morality in me lmao

If the cards were reversed? If they said in Kenya the women can not speak or study or- do you think Afghan women would care? The Democratic Republic of Congo has been on fire since God knows when how many #FreeCongo posts have you seen? Somalia had a clash the same time Russia and Ukraine were measuring nuclear prowess how many of them changed their Profile Picture to include a Somali flag? Sorry do you know what they do to black women there? African women? When I tell my mom Im travelling to ANY part of Asia I can feel her heart break because she watches the news and knows not only am I African with a very African second name I'm also dark skinned and that's anti negro land. They make their idols bleach to ghost level and get their daughters and sons nose jobs do you know what they see you like? IF THE CARDS WERE REVERSED do you think they'd do this for you. The pickmeism of the black community needs to be studied but it is so funny to me when I see it in dark skinned black women like you do know you're at the bottom of the food chain do you not?

So girl goes around saying whatever and one of my friends call me after whatever tf one hour of flying is & I'm trying to deal with all the biological issues of being high altitude in this weather mentally preparing for my exam and I get as SOS and it's *Oh you're pro Israel?* And now I'm pissed because is Israel pro me? I'm pro Russia because Russia erased all my people's debt and I am self centered everyone else bomb each other idk. What does that have to do with me? Girl says YESSS I KNOW RIGHT. We schedule an anti 🚮 session because whew girls are weird out here and now I'm reeling on main because I can't gossip yet so y'all have to catch this stray.

It is a form of stupidity that even a sea cucumber can NOT fathom to be a pick me when you don't need to. And in my books you never need to. Sometimes I get it sometimes I see it I respect it but every single times it disgusts me. Have hundreds of years of femicide and misogyny taught you nothing? And the problem is you know you're not supposed to be a pick me for men (& STILL MOST OF YOU 🚮 ARE. DO NOT TEXT OR ASK ME ABOUT YOUR DEEEK CARRIER I DESPISE YOU BOTH) but when it comes to social settings COWARDS. ALL OF YOU.

Ladies I tell you this because I went through it I speak purely from experience listen to me. Listen to me carefully. Alexa play Mother by Meghan Trainor.

Do. Not. EVER. Turn against yourself in public, not even as a joke. ESPECIALLY not as a joke. It's acceptable if it's serious in a certain way but as a joke? When people make fun or you or yours you- YOU LAUGH??? YOU LET THEM LAUGH? 🤮🚮

IN PUBLIC, PROTECT YOU AND YOURS. 🔊🎤.

I don't like my people I don't I like that I'm African because it's Integral to me and it's not like everyone else is better actually wtf even is that ? But if don't like my people. I hate my culture I hate the mindset I hate the mentality etc when most people are talking shit about us mentally it's like BRUH I KNOW but uhm. Shut your mouth. As far as publicly I'm concerned AFRICA and it's people have never done anything wrong. You exist because we exist. We are the blueprint? Go wear sunscreen and shut the fuck up try to dance with rhythm and cut down on the BBL it looks embarrassing on you. Fillers too. You wanna be me so bad lmao. I HATEEEEE my family so much but you say ONE semi negative thing about them I dare you. No no. Go on. Run your mouth I run mine let's see. PUBLICLY I'm for mine and mines. I do not play pick me games we can NOT bond over hating something that's integral with me. I get along better with men and in a lot of ways I prefer male company ( and I'm a misandrist, so you see it) but Publicly all men are trash women are godesses queen mwah could never be wrong. I will defend a girl I want to unalive to men because I am a woman first THEN I'm a hater . Womanhood is INTEGRAL to me hating is a choice. If I make men feel they can run their mouth about women past me they will start disrespecting me because am I or am I not a woman? Exactly. I am black first then a hater second. Even a mixed person run your mouth go ownnn go on try me. When my people are talking trash about each other too I'll be all over that. I am my father's daughter first before I am the family disappointment so I will say whatever I want about him, you on the other hand. Who are you? Literally why even did you think you could?

If something is INTEGRAL to you, you protect it. In public. You DO not, NAUT. NAWT. Let people talk down on you or yours. Ever. And you do NOT, even as a joke, talk down on any part of yourself that's inseparable from you. I'll make fun of my career all day because it's a choice it's outside me idc about it. It's not a part of me I'm not loyal to it. If that thing is a part of you that's inborn you protect it with your blood .

I digress as one does, let's redirect my anger where it belongs.

It is pick me behavior to do for others what you know for a fact they would not do for you, especially when you know they would hurt you if they had the chance. It is this pickmeism that drives and keeps misogyny and the patriarchy going but we all know that. When in doubt, ask yourself- if this situation was reversed, what would they do? If it's not exactly what you are about to do for them, go home wash your hair and repent to your higher self for whatever that self sabotage was, and learn to mind your own business.

BMAC

[phan3145]

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

**Notes: Probably no regular updates until the end of March, but it’s good to be back.

Chapter 14: Mother Knows Best

Noa

He and Anaya travelled back to the village in silence. Anaya, for his part, seemed to be satisfied with the point he made, wanting to return to his nest for the night. His Sunset Brother’s satisfaction was not shared. Instead, his mind raced with thoughts of what he had witnessed, as well as past events of the day. He could not sleep, though he did try. The deep breathing and snores of the apes around him would break his concentration, anger slowly building within. For the first time, he envied the ease of which the rest of the clan slept. He turned from his back to his side, shifting for probably the eighth time.

Another moment and he puffed out a sigh. He sat up, glancing to the sleeping apes around him, before pushing himself silently from his nest and heading outside. He needed to do something with his hands, as he could not silence his mind. There were multiple projects within the Eagle Tower he had left unattended since meeting their Echo; nests that needed to be repaired, fires that had gone cold, and beams that needed reinforcing.

It was a quick climb for him. Once in the tower, he approached his crafting table with a quicker gate, letting the relief of having something to focus on wash over him. He hummed, picking up his whittling tools for the new beam supports. This was long overdue. After a few moments though, a handful of wood chips in front of him, his attention drifted to the objects placed carefully on the back corner of the table. The dark piece of cloth, tenderly nestled next to the crown he had so diligently crafted at this very table, were suddenly out of place within the tower.

He huffed, shaking his head at the thought and returning to the task before him. Two more branches would need to be chiseled after this one. The nests would be easy fixes, the supply of silk over flowing since most apes had to wait an extra season to make their climb. With a final slice, he finished the branch in his hand. He blindly reached for the second branch, still inspecting the finished tip in front of him. Nodding in approval at his work, his gaze was unfortunately drawn once more to the Echo objects. His fingers were around the new branch, pulling it towards him, yet he was unable to look away now from that corner. He pinched his eyes closed, shaking his head, and fighting the urge that was rising up inside of him. He began to vigorously shave pieces of wood from the branch, halfway done before he stopped, sighing to himself. He dropped the branch then, reaching for the scrap of cloth.

It smelled of their Echo, the scent tickling his nose in waves as he ran the pads of his fingers over the shredded edges of it. He was unsure why he had kept it. Their Echo did not know he had taken it that day, and there was no real reason for him to keep it. At the thought of getting rid of it though, he was reminded of the look on their Echo’s face when she told him it had belonged to her mother. He remembered then, how attached he had been to his mother’s shawl when she had been taken from him.

He clutched the cloth even tighter, realizing that she had never told him what happened to her mother. She had trusted him with the worst year of her life, the death of her friends and her…partner, but she could not bring herself to talk about her mother. From that alone, he guessed it was nothing good. She had left with their Echo, travelled far from their clan if her story was true…but at some point, something must have happened. Something terrible, to have left their Echo all alone.

Suddenly being reminded of her lack of clan, only made his stomach feel empty. Something in him could not accept her being alone. Like with anything broken within the village, the urge to fix her situation clawed it’s way through his mind like a starving predator. It had not been so strong before, not until he saw her in pain. Not until he thought he would never speak with her again.

Flashes of images played behind his closed eyes, the impact of the days events weighing on his shoulders until he hunched forward. He rested his arms on the table, cradling the cloth along his cheek as his head fell heavily into his hands. He did not know what he was doing. He felt torn between his clan and their future, and their Echo. He wanted more for both. He wanted what Raka and Proximus had described, prosperity and evolution. He wanted what Caesar had. He was unsure how to go about it though, not knowing if the path he was currently on was the correct one.

Their Echo was angry with him, the elders were bickering amongst themselves, and while he was trying to do what was expected of him, he was failing at every turn.

“You always…had trouble sleeping…when thoughts burdened…your mind.”

He turned then, finding his mother standing next to him, a comforting smile greeting his solemn expression. He puffed out a breath, watching her pick up his finished branch and inspect it. The torch in her hand was held a safe distance away as she seemed to scrutinize his work. He watched her, worried she would disapprove, unconsciously shifting closer. Her eyes jumped to him then, that same small smile greeting him as she placed the branch down, walking passed him.

He turned quickly, following close behind as she made her way towards the burned out torches of the east wall. She lit the first, turning her head to him as she lit the second, “What troubles you…why do you…escape here?”

He could not meet her eyes then. Shifting in place, he hesitated to admit, “I…do not…know…I am…jumbled…the clan…then the Echo…she was…is…angry with me.”

His mother remained silent, leaning in closer and brushing her fingers against his chin. He hissed, a low growl of pain slipping past his throat, before hooting an apology. He took a step back, his own fingers searching the tender skin to find a scabbed over cut. The muscle hurt underneath more than the cut itself. His mother seemed to straighten, tilting her head back a bit, and fixing him with a stare he learned at a young age meant she discovered something he had been trying to hide.

“Hard lesson.” She guessed. He hesitated, but nodded. She nodded her head with him, waiting another moment before asking, “Did you…learn from it?”

He huffed, a sigh escaping him as he poked at his cut again. “I do not…think so…tried to help…made it…worse.”

His mother hummed, leaning closer, “What…help?”

He did not want to repeat himself. He did not want to repeat the Echo’s story again, but his mother was one of the wisest apes he knew, let alone trusted. He needed her guidance, so she needed to know everything. Not just their Echo’s story, but how she saved his life. More than that, he wanted her to understand why she was so important, why he cared for her so much.

So, there they stayed, in the Eagle tower. The rest of the clan slept peacefully below, while he recounted the worst year of their Echo’s life, and the best season and a half he can recall since becoming Master of Birds. His mother listened patiently, lighting the rest of the torches and giving him bits of silk while he mended the damaged nests. He was carving his third branch, back at his work table, when he finished. His mother did not ask any questions, remaining silent the entire time. Now that his story was done, she hummed, reaching her arm across the table.

He expected her to scrutinize his second branch, just as she had the first. Instead, her grasp travelled further, past the branch, and landed on that torn black cloth. He stopped carving then, watching his mother examine the cloth, just as closely as she had the branch. He could not tell what she was thinking, only that she was. She took the cloth in both hands then, stretching it as far as it would go, eyes focused on every rip and fray of the material. Finally, she grunted, carefully folding the material and returning it gently to it’s place on the table. She treated it as precious and as delicate as eagle’s egg.

Her eyes found his then, and he felt his throat go dry. Instead of confusion or anger, emotions Soona and Anaya had displayed, his mother chuffed, a hand patting his shoulder, “Do you know…why raising Eagle…is the final rite…of passage before…juvenile…is considered…adult?”

He felt his brows turn down and his mouth gape, struggling for words. He did not understand the purpose of her question. What did Eagle have to do with Echo?

Noticing his confusion, his mother explained, “Eagles are delicate…from egg to…hatchling…they take…gentle touch…but firm will…to be raised…the right amount…of silk…the right amount…of food…of water…then they mature…they need guidance…must have trust…to spread their wings…to know…they are safe…and you…can keep them safe…only then…do eagles fly.”

He huffed, looking away from his mother as he argued, “Echo…is not Eagle…Echo is mature…can care for…herself…not the same…as bonding.”

“How…would you…know?” His mother challenged, still with that patient tone of hers.

He opened his mouth to answer, but she held her hand up to silence him. She took a deep breath, sighing through her nose, “Since birth…you have been…different…Noa…your heart is pure…your spirit strong…your mind…soars high above sky…like eagles.”

He felt his shoulders pull in tighter, that feeling of not being enough starting to creep back in. Still, his mother continued, “You have…always wanted…to be like…other ape…yet you…do things…own way…pass…all other apes…do things different…faster…better.”

He turned his head then, brows narrowing, “I do not…understand.”

His mother hummed, “It is…good thing…but…fast can be bad…you have never bonded…with Eagle…you never grew…from juvenile…to adult…you bonded with…adult Eagle…forced to become adult…through fire and pain…forced to be…Master of Birds…before you were ready.”

He said nothing, shame overcoming him. His own mother could see he was not ready. He was an embarrassment to his father’s title. Before he could sink further down into those thoughts, his mother nudged a hand under his chin, grabbing his attention once more. “You can…care for egg…raise hatchling…but you do not…have patience…that Eagle needs…you can not…make her fly…before she is ready…she must choose to.”

“The Echo.” He guessed.

She nodded, “You can not…force her…to not be…afraid…she trusts you…but she was not…ready to spread…her wings…you pushed…and she fell…sinking talons…into you…in return.”

It suddenly made sense, and once again he considered his mother the wisest amongst the village. Honored teacher, could always explain things in ways he could understand. He pursed his lips, nodding along before asking, “How do I…mend things?”

“Time,” his mother said, patting his shoulder. She hobbled towards the exit of the tower, looking tired suddenly. “Trust is…earned again…start small…let her spread her wings…on her terms…respect your new…bonded…and she will…respect you.”

“We are not,” he began, watching his mother pause in the archway. “Echo…is not Eagle…we are not…bonded.”

She smiled, nodding once, “Yet you will…learn the same…as if…she was.”

With that, she left him to his thoughts. His mother was wrong, but she was also right. He needed to change his strategy when it came to helping their Echo overcome her fear of apes. He yawned then, feeling tired now that the night had waned enough to be closer to dawn. He paced over towards the spot he had made to nest in on nights he could not sleep, choosing the comfort of the eagles over the company of his Sunset Brother and Sister. He should have asked his mother how he should start small, but both of them were tired. It had been a long day. She probably did not have any better ideas than he did. Knowing now what the problem was, he was sure they would come up with a few ideas together.

Until then, it was time for sleep. He would mend things in the morning. He hoped to dream, dream of things that would inspire him to start out small. Instead, no sooner than he closed his eyes, he was awoken by Soona’s screeching.

“Noa! Wake…Noa!” She urged.

His sat up with a screech of his own, noticing it was just a little after sunrise, “Soona…what is…wrong?”

Soona grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet roughly, “A youngling is missing.”

That got his attention.

…

He set Eagle Sun to the forest near the edge of the creek. His mother and the other younglings said they did not notice the youngest of the apes wander into or near the edge of the water. No one saw her leave at all. That was unlike his mother, not to notice a youngling wandering off. He could hardly blame her though, she had little sleep last night due to his own jumbled mind. So, he would fix this, if he could. He would find the youngling and bring her back to his mother.

Though riding would have covered more ground, he chose instead to climb the trees. He periodically hooted his clan’s call, scanning the ground beneath as he leapt from one branch to the other. Soona spoke of the youngling’s continued muteness, too young to have found her voice yet. She was born late in the season, so late the clan feared she would not survive. Elders of the past must have taken pity on her, not only did she survive, but she was smarter than most her age. That was why his mother had suggested she start learning now, many seasons sooner than she should have. What concerned him now, was how small the youngling was. He feared he would miss her if he did not search carefully enough.

He chose Anaya to keep watch over the perimeter of the woods surrounding their home, hoping maybe she would scent her way back. It would be a little too advanced for someone her age, but his mother did not share praise often. He hoped it would be that simple. Still, he sent Soona downstream with his mother’s eagle, while his mother stayed put with the other younglings. He could not imagine the young ape traveling much further from their home, but a smarter one would not have wandered off in the first place.

He huffed, glancing up to the sun. It was early yet, not close to midday, but he worried over their Echo. He did not know where to meet her, and he did not wish to keep her waiting. He let out a low growl, leaping from his current tree to the larger one a few feet away. He opened his mouth to call out again, but stopped when he heard the cry of the youngling. It was one of terror. He snapped his head in the direction of the noise and snarled, eating up the distance as he leapt from tree to tree. The branches trembled beneath his palms from his sudden weight, leaves falling like rain from the force of his movement.

She was close to the water, and he feared the worst. He panted, arms straining to throw himself further, faster, towards where the screech had come from. He heard it stop suddenly, and he feared he was too late. That was, until he heard a familiar voice.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Their Echo

“Okay. I’m going to come to you. I’m going to walk up to the bank and sit with you. Alright?”

He moved once more, landing on a branch strong enough to hold his weight. He dared not take another step towards the tree line, should their Echo spot him. She was with the youngling. He wanted to see what she would do. He was…curious, about the gentle voice she spoke in towards the young ape.

He watched her rise from the water as if she were made of clouds. The water did not weigh her down. Her clothes were wet, but they did not resemble the ones she normally wore. Were these special? Were they meant to be worn in water? Did they help her achieve her weightless appearance? One thing was for certain, he had never seen their Echo so bare before.

He could not help but stare at her, noticing small scars along her shoulders and legs that would normally be hidden by her clothes. The skin was a different color, not unlike ape scars. So different, and yet so similar. He noticed the youngling taking in her appearance as well, head falling back so far the youngling’s whole body nearly toppled. She seemed as dazed as he was by the soaking wet Echo. She recovered before he did, distancing herself from their Echo, while he was distracted by her face. Their Echo’s eyes held a warmth, her expression an openness, which he rarely saw other than when they were alone.

She was not scared.

He was delighted, watching her slowly sink to the ground in a non-threatening position. It was tense between the two. He silently begged and pleaded, urging the youngling to show courage. Just take small steps, a single step towards her would be enough. Please. Show mercy to her.

Then, as if she could hear his thoughts, the youngling inched towards their Echo. She brushed careful knuckles over her exposed thigh, flinching back quickly before their Echo smiled, letting out a breath and signing, Friend. Safe. Protect.

He felt his chest swell then, a strange sense of pride coursing through him. That seemed to have been enough for the youngling as well, who proceeded to climb into their Echo’s lap. He winced, waiting for her fear to set in, and though he could see her face twitch, she did not react otherwise. Perhaps, it was the fact the youngling was so small, so vulnerable. He noticed even the youngling’s curiosity regarding her strange body did not deter her from treating the ape with tenderness. And, if he was honest, she was touching their Echo far more than even he would permit were their roles reversed. Still, he remained motionless, a warm type of calm settling into his being.

That is when the thought occurred to him. He did not bring Eagle Sun with him. He should be alerting the clan that the youngling was found. He would…but just another moment first. After that moment, he will reveal himself and take the young ape home, before returning to their Echo.

Speaking of their Echo, he heard her small cackle, immediately drawn back to the spectacle on the ground.

“Do you know where your parents are?” She asked, slowly.

The youngling slowly processed her words before shaking her head in response.

This seemed to stress their Echo, causing her to take a deep breath before asking, “Do you have a name?”

The youngling signed her name, Eden. It was too fast, and as if realizing their Echo might not understand, did it several more times in a slower glide of her fingers. The name seemed familiar to him, but he could not quite place why. Of course he knew the names of every clan member, but had their been an Eden before her? He was sure there was another…somewhere distant in his memory.

He had no time to dwell on the thought, noticing their Echo shake her head, trying to explain that she did not understand. A stab of guilt turned his stomach, they had taught their Echo basic words in sign, but not how to recognize names. Eden snorted through her nose, frustrated at being unable to communicate. He thought this was the best moment to collect the young ape, but before he could, she did something that nearly caused him to fall out of the tree.

“E…E…E.” The youngling screeched, the first sound he had ever heard her produce. It was not a screech of an ape, but that of the letter E, the first sound in pronouncing her name. He could not believe it.

Their Echo was possibly too close to the sound, wincing and holding up a hand to plead, “Okay, okay, easy there. Don’t strain yourself. You can’t talk yet, that’s okay. E is good enough for me.”

The young ape seemed to be satisfied with that as well, returning to inspecting the Echo’s body. He could not see what she was so fascinated by, jumping silently to the next tree. He craned his neck, attempting to get a better look. Then, someone called their Echo’s name.

Soona

She began to screech and hoot in delight, running towards the two on the ground, “You…found her.”

“Her?” Their Echo parroted.

Soona pointed at Eden, then signaled to his mother’s Eagle to return to the group and let them know the youngling was found safe. Eagle Rock flew away quickly as Soona explained, “Wandered off…have been searching…long time.”

Their Echo seemed confused, if not a little angry, as she questioned, “Wandered off? Your village is far from here, how did she get this far by herself?”

Soona shook her head, falling down next to their Echo with a sigh of relief. She had worried herself into exhaustion. She had been searching non-stop since Eden went missing. He could not blame her for taking a break. She stretched her feet and toes as she explained, “Not from…village…from group of…younglings…upstream.”

Soona held out a hand, which Eden grasped as a form of greeting, but when Soona attempted to take the young ape, Eden screeched at her. It was obvious she did not want to be taken from their Echo, and to accentuate her point she shifted to the opposite side of their Echo’s body, completely out of Soona’s reach. He was surprised, Eden did not trust most apes outside of her parents and his mother. To choose their Echo over Soona at this time was…different. Strange. He had never seen an ape choose an Echo over another ape before.

In fairness, he had chosen Mae over Proximus, but those circumstances had been different compared to now. Eden was young, naturally she should want to cling to a female of her own kind, of her own clan, after being separated. Instead, she shunned Soona and chose to play with their Echo’s wet, matted hair that fell below her shoulders. She stood on two legs now, pulling and tugging at the long strands. He leaned closer, towards the edge of his branch, watching the way their Echo reacted to Eden’s rough treatment of her hair.

Creak

He jolted back, his weight threatening to break the branch he was standing on. That noise had been enough to catch Soona’s attention. She turned her head slightly, mouth opening to say something but he quickly stopped her. He shook his head violently, arms waving slightly as he signed, Do not reveal. Echo mad. Ignore Noa.

Their Echo noticed Soona’s attention towards the forest, ready to question her when she stiffly turned back to their Echo. She turned her head in curiosity, distracting their Echo as she asked, “You are…better…than yesterday?”

Their Echo seemed to avoid Soona’s eyes then, her attention placed on Eden. He chuffed, Eden had been taught a few moons ago how to weave a basket. It seemed the young ape was practicing her skills on their Echo’s hair.

Another moment of silence and then their Echo shrugged, “I guess. I hope you know that I never meant to offend you, or your clan. I’m sorry if you were expecting me and I never showed. I just wasn’t…prepared to see your village.”

Soona hummed, “Noa…should have told you…should have told us…sooner…I am…sorry…that apes have not…always been kind…to you.”

He winced. She spoke true. He should not have pushed their Echo to visit their village, and he should have told Anaya and Soona what had happened to her. He would do everything in his power to fix his mistake now. He could not do anything about the past, only learn from it. Humans often spoke of moving forward in their books and stories, in their Echo’s case, she had done just that. Maybe she could assist him in learning to do that as well?

Their Echo looked to Soona then, a small smile on her lips as she stated, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t you who was un-kind to me. You, Anaya, and Noa have been nothing but kind to me…for the most part.”

“You are…still angry…with Noa?” Soona asked, somewhat hesitantly. She was not asking for her benefit and he knew it.

Their Echo puffed out a long breath, thinking, the silence stretching so long he was afraid she would not answer at all. Finally, she sighed, “Can anyone truly stay mad at Noa?”

He felt relief he had never truly known before overtake him. He felt the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smile he could not fight, distracted for a moment before hearing their Echo add, “I understand why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I understand it. The real problem that day…well…it’s just…. I know there are barriers between our species. It’s more than just speech, and I…I mean, these problems probably have carried over from hundreds of years of differences. You three have been great, but the part that upsets me is that Noa seems to choose to ignore the fact that apes and humans don’t normally co-exist peacefully. We do, but I’ve also experienced the other end of the spectrum between our species. And Noa just…”

He hung his head once more. They were different. He could not deny that, but where their Echo saw that as something bad, he could only see it as good. She was not as strong as him, but she was just as brave. He was not as…creative as she was, but he could fix things just as well as she could. And together, the two of them…they were good together. He was unsure how to describe it, but he wanted it. He wanted the differences, he wanted to learn and to teach each other. He wanted to grow with her. He wanted-

“Noa does know…what it is like…to be betrayed.”

The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, one he was unprepared for. What had caused Soona to say this? He had been too lost in thought, missing the conversation. Their Echo looked surprised, brows raising before lowering just as quickly. She seemed doubtful, asking, “By a fellow ape?”

Soona shook her head, “By a…Echo…you are not the first…that could speak…that Noa has met.”

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling uneasy. Their Echo seemed too eager as she questioned, “There are other humans around who can speak?”

“There was one,” Soona answered, still speaking carefully. She knew he was there, and she knew this was not her story to tell. “We do not know…where she went…left five seasons ago…have not seen her since…her name was…Mae.”

Their Echo nodded slowly, voice lowering as she asked, “What happened with Mae? You said she…betrayed Noa? How?”

Soona sighed, “We do not…normally speak of her…she was a source…of much pain and…confusion for Noa…think…you should know.”

Soona hesitated, each second of silence feeling like an entire season. His heart was beating so loud he almost missed her next words. “There was ape…Proximus…he was king of apes…he searched for Mae…killed other humans that…were with her…wanted to get inside…a human vault…it held great weapons…that would make Proximus…more powerful.”

He saw their Echo’s immediate reaction. She seemed afraid, looking unwell, as if she had eaten bad berry. Her next question caused his own bad reaction. “Who was Sylva to Proximus?”

How?

How did she know that name? How did she know any of this? Something cold caused his hair to stand on end, a small thought in the back of his mind trying to make it to the front. He shook his head, refusing to hear it. Still, it remained. Quiet now, but there all the same.

He watched Soona, her surprise matching his. She did not speak of Sylva to their Echo, which only left two others that could have. Though surprised, Soona answered, “Sylva was…his General…not sure if that is an ape word…or a human word.”

“It’s human,” their Echo was quick to answer. “Proximus seems to have already been an advanced ape.”

Soona curled more into herself then, “He was….we all were afraid…if not for Noa…and Mae…Eagle Clan would not…be here.”

“Proximus ordered your clan to be stolen, and Sylva carried out his orders.” Their Echo, clever as always, was quick to make sense of their ape structure. “What happened to Proximus?”

“Noa stopped him,” Soona answered without hesitation.

Their Echo remained silent. He had seen that look on her face before. She was…processing. She was trying to make sense of what Soona had just told her. While she did this, Soona snuck a quick glance to his hidden location. They locked eyes, and she signed behind her back, Continue?

He grunted, signing back, You must now.

Soona hummed to herself, before letting out a grunt to recapture their Echo’s attention. “Noa says…Mae hid from Proximus…in our village…Noa accidentally…lead them to us…the entire clan was taken…Noa tracked us…for many days…Mae followed…Noa did not know she could speak…until she called his name…Sylva was close…she was scared…she chose Noa as…lesser of the two apes…to fear.”

“So, she lied.” Their Echo said in a flat tone.

Lie. To be untrue on purpose. He still was grasping the concept of the human word. He let loose a breath, admiring their Echo’s ability to see things as they were. She acknowledged the right and wrong without details to cloud her mind. Not like ape…not like him. Her experience with humans more than likely lead to this ability.

In that same, flat, straightforward tone, their Echo continued, “Noa was betrayed by her traveling with him, but he didn’t know she could speak, or that Proximus was hunting her.”

Soona nodded, “More than that…when Noa and Mae…were taken to Proximus…he learned she shared…the same goal…as Proximus…she wanted to…get inside…get a book…that could help humans…learn to speak…again.”

“That…”

Their Echo hesitated. That caught his attention. Why? He carefully took another step forward, feeling that same branch start to give way, but he had to get closer. He stared intently at her face- her eyes. Processing again. She was thinking…and there was something wrong. She seemed jumbled…but more. Like she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. Like she knew something, but did not want to speak. Like…like…

Like Mae.

Like Mae when she hid the truth.

He felt his teeth pierce his gums, his jaw tightening. He did not want to think that way, not after yesterday. Not after knowing what he did about her. She was not like Mae. She was not. Would never be. She may keep some things to herself, but it is never information that could hurt anyone. She has only ever hidden her own pain.

She shook her head then, finishing her original thought, “That sounds incredible. Did she find what she was looking for?”

He took a deep breath. Perhaps he had misjudged her intentions. Maybe the jumble, the pain, was hearing of something she could not understand. He certainly did not understand when Mae first mentioned it to him. Still, that nagging thought in the back of his mind remained there. Crouched in the shadows, lying in wait for the time to strike.

“Noa…”

The sound of his name brought his attention back to the conversation, catching Soona’s eyes as her attention shifted to him once more. She seemed nervous, as if seeking his permission once more. For what, he did not know. He saw their Echo become confused at Soona’s sudden shift, brows raised as she waited. He urged Soona to speak, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Soona turned away from him, body rigid as she explained, “Noa was…different…after meeting Mae…is different…with you…now.”

Their Echo did not seem surprised by this. Did not ask for better understanding. Instead, asked, “Does Noa think I’ll turn out to be like Mae? That I’ll betray him? Hurt him or the clan? Is that why he’s always watching me, always careful around me?”

He did not always watch her, he grumbled to himself. Of course he was careful with her, she was fragile. Perhaps she confused the two.

Soona shook her head, “Noa knows…you are not like Mae…you are…what he wished…Mae was…wants to make sure…he does not become….like Mae…to you.”

He looked away then. Soona spoke true…though he did not wish to admit it to himself. He was more than careful with you, because he wanted to keep what companionship the two of you had built. The same way he had wanted to keep it with Mae. It was impossible with her. Too much had happened. He would never be her enemy, but they could never progress together. But with you…he wanted…he wanted to keep you.

He heard their Echo sigh then, ashamed, “I…I threw a rock at him yesterday. I made a mistake…I already hurt him. He shouldn’t think that I’m not like her…I could be. I’m human after all.”

He wanted to argue, protest against the thought, but Soona beat him to it.

“Human…does not mean bad…ape…does not mean good…Noa says…wants others to learn…we are better…stronger…good and bad…together…more alike…than either side…wants to speak of.”

He sensed the shift in their Echo’s emotions, watching as she and Soona embraced. It was unlike a human hug, and unlike an ape sign of affection. It was a strange blend of the two. He saw rather than heard their Echo say, “Thank you, Soona.”

Then, there was silence, no more to say between the two. He on the other hand, felt he had much more to say. In time though. Not now. This was a time of peace. Of course, it did not last long. His mother’s bird swooped through the trees, and as he attempted to stop her, he forgot where he was standing.

Crack

His feet gave out beneath him, the weight of his body carrying him down. He mashed his teeth to smother the screech he wanted to release, hands scrabbling for purchase on branches as he descended. He caught one, enough to slow him down, before it too snapped and he landed face first into the dirt below.

He grunted, pushing himself up enough to see over the underbrush. As he did, he saw their Echo’s head lower from its raised position, down towards him. He stilled, as if caught in the gaze of a predator, the very breath in his lungs freezing. Her eyes met his in an unseeing gaze, her hand raising as he realized the sun blocked him from her sight. His breathing resumed, pain blooming in his chest. He was reminded of his fall as their Echo’s attention was now on his mother’s bird.

He sat up carefully, pain in his chest slowing his movements. He watched as Soona stood with too much urgency. Something was wrong. He turned in the direction she was looking, forcing himself to his feet as he saw his mother and her group of younglings approach Soona and their Echo. She had no idea. He needed to get to her, he needed to be there to help her.

He took a step, hands clenching at the pain before he heard Soona beg, “Do not…be scared…do not run.”

Their Echo jumped up, clutching Eden to her chest in a single fluid motion. She was terrified. He made to move forward, but Soona discreetly held up a hand. She looked at him with the same determination he had seen before they made the climb in Proximus’ kingdom. She shook her head, signing, Wait.

He did not like it, but nodded all the same. His breath came harder, faster as the younglings approached. Eden heard the group approaching, stirring and hooting to call them closer to her. Their Echo did not know this, only knowing distress as she tried to backup. Soona stopped her then.

“I am…here…trust.” Soona spoke, not only to their Echo, as she halfway shielded her from the approaching group.

Their Echo stilled, swallowing around nothing as he scented her fear from deep within the canopy. After another moment, she nodded at Soona, who shrieked at the younglings to slow and stop. She might not have had to, as each one completely stopped in their tracks upon seeing their Echo. He remembered then, that they had never seen an Echo before, and that was including silent ones. The second their Echo opened her mouth to speak, the younglings might all just faint…or run.

He hoped they did not see her as a threat. He was prepared if they did though. One of the eldest stepped forward then. He scented their Echo to the best of his ability, senses still undeveloped. He hobbled closer, enough to scent her legs, and he must have picked up on her fear. His confusion was obvious, head tilting as he saw their Echo flinch back from him. He observed Eden, clasped closely to her, though she wanted nothing to do with him. With the anger of a child ignored in preference to another, he demanded, “Why does Eden…get to be carried…by the Echo?”

He heard their Echo release a breath that sounded more like a gasp. He could see her shoulders begin to shake, Eden sensing the rise in her fear, leaning down from her grasp to holler and hiss at the youngling before her. Surprisingly, the youngling backed away, hissing back as grumbled, “Newborn.”

This almost brought a smile to their Echo’s face, watching Eden snort in reply. Then, another voice broke through the crowd, “I believe…you have…found my…youngling.”

His mother.

Teaching staff in hand, she hobbled towards their Echo, the crowd of younglings parting in respect so she may pass. Though their Echo remained afraid, she took one look at his mother and nodded. She knelt then, slowly, to the ground. She softly urged Eden to release her hold on her hair and clothing. Though reluctant, Eden complied, walking hesitantly on all fours over to his mother. He expected her to be scolded, but was just as surprised as everyone by his mother’s next words.

“Well done, little one. You were very brave.”

What?!

“What?” Their Echo parroted his own disbelief, the sound causing an audible gasp and reaction from the rest of the group.

[anika-ann]

It's heeeeere😍😍

Alright, alright. First let me say I already love it, even if you're breaking my heart🥺 then again the gorgeous art clued me on that.

If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

Oh the opening is already so sad🥺 but I live for the longing for a partner and it's so understandable he'd like someone to share both joy and the recently found burden with🥺

They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

OUCH. But also yes, that's probably how it is with many people for him now😭

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check."

I really went from wow that's rude to THE F*** DID YOU JUST SAY-

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits.

#proud in fact, even if the crazy deal holds, he really should stop badmouthing the saint Sarah Rogers the former QUEEN mind you- but also if the grandfather throws Steve's words about reader on her later on I will throw hands☹

He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

MISS MA'AM HOW DARE YOU to portray his grief so well, missing his wonderful ma' in big things and small ones 🥺 (not to mention the ENDING, don't get me started)

How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

Oh I adore how her longing mirrors his. That gives me a bit of hope🥰

"You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." (...) You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

They do not deserve her, period😤

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing.

Love her reaction. Fuck the grandfather's lying ass.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

The friend spitting facts 🤌

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want."

Yeah this makes me super sad for her, because she broke away once from her shitty family to be free and now she's wrestled into their claws again AND a marriage.

“Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.”

"Dating must be hard when you're a king.”

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?”

...again though, love her friend saying the real things🤭 and her standing her side. #friendshipgoals

Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

😂😂 I'm sorry😂😂 good for her, save some of her spite. But that also makes me wonder if Steve will think she's trying too hard and will think she really is desperate to marry him even if she is only forced to do it too🥺

Oh the feels😭 can't wait for you to murder my heart with next chapter🥲

Not the game they play

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4.1k

Summary: An arranged marriage flips your life upside down. What you thought you knew about your family doesn't seem to be true at all. How will Steve and you navigate your life together?

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, a swear word here and there, insulting of Sarah Rogers, yes that needed to be a warning, difficult family relationship, if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: This is the first part of a series. I had this idea for over two years with some scenes already written out or well thought through. Thank you all for encouraging me to finally do something with it. But don't come for me, you wanted this!

I promised to tag the lovely @ronearoundblindly 🩷

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Chapter One - Cannot stop the rain

The constant bustle of people and their conversations were a white noise like no other. One you can't concentrate on too long, especially when you have to hold conversation with whoever thought it was his turn to smooze a king.

Steve hates galas. He hates the pretentiousness that came with them and the people who attended but most of all he hates that he had no choice but to go. A king missing one of these was only excused when a serious matter arose. And those don't come by easily when you need them. He yearned for the times when he didn't need to attend these things, back when his mom still was the reigning queen and shielded him from this world. But with his mom gone he had to step up.

Gone where the days he travelled the world, studied art and made new friends. So easily replaced with duty and grief... and a stupid crown on his head. He was lucky enough he could hire his friends as staff, lucky enough his oldest friend was his right hand man and never left him alone for too long. James Bucky Barnes, his childhood defender, his best friend, his right hand and occasionally, much to Steve's dismay, his wingman. If only that would have worked out already. He seems to be casually watching people dance but in reality he watches the couples spend quality time together at a stuck up event. If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

"Senator Lee is coming up next" a smooth voice mumbles over his shoulder, Sam Wilson. A friend he found in college, a politics major and his chief of staff. Steves eyes find the older gentleman approaching him. He's talked with him before, quite often actually, and he was always so kind and encouraging.

The small talk with senator Lee went by faster than Steve anticipated. Before the next person could swoop in to talk to him he excused himself to the restroom. Bucky, his honorary security detail for the evening since he refused to take his actual one, made to follow him. "It's just the bathroom Buck. I'll be fine and I'll come straight back here." he says lowly, his eyes rolling at the antics. He didn't need this much security before he became a king. Bucky hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering to Sam who looks a bit unsure himself. "I mean... It's just the bathroom... No danger there. Nat wouldn't go inside with him either right?" Steve lets out a sigh at Sam's statement. Natasha, the head of security, ruled with an iron fist. She had all of them so scared they wouldn't dare to disobey her orders... except maybe her husband Clint but he got free passes for life.

"Right... Just come right back here?" Bucky looks at him and with a sigh and a nod Steve agrees. Before they can say anything else and before whatever lady just seems to approach them can start to talk, Steve hurries to the restroom. He locks himself in a cabin just for a few moments alone. But even those aren't truly alone.

The door to the restroom opens up not too long after him and of course that person takes ages to do their business. With a silent grumble Steve finishes up and leaves the cabin to wash his hands. Just then the door to another cabin opens and an older gentleman with thinning grey hair, in a three piece suit steps out. His eyes meet Steve's in the mirror as he walks up to the sink area himself. They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

"King Rogers." He acknowledges and Steve simply gives a nod. He isn't even safe in the fucking bathroom!

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check. Who would have thought it would take her to die for you to finally step up." The man seems calm and collected as if he didn't just insult Steve's mother.

"What the fuck did you say about my mom? Old crone?!" His blood was boiling and he was this close to hitting the old man if it weren't for his manners. His mom raised him better but she wasn't here to keep him in check was she?

"Oh calm down Steven. No need to get all flustered and angry. Hold your tongue before you say something you'll regret. We'll be one happy family soon after all." The man smirked and calmly dried his hands. He teaches over and turns off Steve's tab, the blonde frozen from anger. What did he just say? He must be demented. "What?" Is all that Steve can bring out. Confused and angry and still so so close to punch that guy.

"Oh you don't know. Can't say I'm surprised, your mother shielded you a lot. Now I have to do all the explaining. That's why women should never be in charge.” he rolls his eyes. “Are you familiar with the Hastings family?" The man hands Steve one of the towels and casually leans against the sink. Hastings? Steve has heard that name before... Wasn't that the royal family that fell from grace three generations ago? His eyes flit to the man.

"Sounds familiar." Is all he can grid out. What is this man on about? Is he just here to gossip?

"Clever boy." The smirk on the old man's face is uncanny. As if he can read Steve all too well. "You know exactly who they are but instead of going off to gossip like all the other royals out there you keep your answer neutral. What a good king you make." Steve's confusion grows.

"What does the Hastings family have to do with us becoming one?" Steve bites out. "Ah straight to business. Just how I like it. You see the Hastings family and the Rogers family go way back. Many, many generations in fact. King Joseph Rogers the first and King George Hastings even made a little pact, that yes, still stands today." His eyes search Steve's face and his grin looks so satisfied. "That the families will unite as soon as there is a male and female heir born into the families. Now ever since then both families only bore strong sons with an occasional daughter that was out of the age range for marriage. That is until roughly 30 years ago. When you and my granddaughter were born just two years apart." Steve's brow lifts. The old man was a Hastings. Wanting to fulfill a deal that was made over a hundred years ago... Bullshit.

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits. The man just grins. "Oh, it will Steven. Here let your lawyers check this and then get back to me about when my granddaughter can move in with you. " He laughs and hands Steve an envelope before he walks out of the restroom and back into the gala.

Steve's eyes fall on the envelope, it's burning in his hands but he needs to get this checked. He can't marry someone because of an old deal. He can't marry someone with a grandfather daring to insult his mom that's not even been dead for a month. Steve's eyes start to burn with tears. His mom shielded him from so much while she also did her best to prepare him for this life... He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

He takes a shakey breath and swallows the lump in his throat. A brief look in the mirror, a deep breath, straightening his tie. He can't show weakness. Not here, not ever. 'Safe the tears for your bedroom, Rogers.' the voice in his head commands. He wipes away the stray tear that got caught in his lashes, pockets the envelope and with another deep breath makes his way back to his friends.

They're chatting, most likely teasing each other. As soon as Bucky sees him both heads turn to Steve with a concerned gaze swiping up and down. They seem to come to the conclusion that he's okay and relax. "We need to leave." he says as soon as he reaches them. His tone more urgent than he wanted to. "Why you got diarrhea? Took you pretty long in there... I told ya to lay it easy on the hors d'oeuvres." Bucky teases with a grin that immediately falls as soon as he sees Steves eyes. Sam can't even get his joke in before Bucky declares that they're leaving. He leads Steve to the host of the gala for a quick goodbye and then out to the car they came in.

Within 10 minutes they're on the road. For the first time with only the three of them in the car, Steve pulls up the divider for privacy. Shielded from Sam and Bucky, he allows himself to spill a few tears for his mother before he can make it to the safety of his bedroom. He knows that will be away for another few hours, especially with the envelope that's burning a hole into his pocket.

Ever since you were young your family hasn't cared much for you. The only thing that was important to them was that you did exactly what they wanted... in every aspect of your life. You got the education they wanted, you went to college for what they wanted and you hid your interests to make them like you. At the beginning of your twenties you finally broke out of that circle. You moved far away with your friend and only occasionally visited for important matters, much to their dismay. Just like you were now.

The train ride never isn't boring, even with a good book and music. The most thrilling plot or the most beautiful lyrics couldn't distract you from the stranger sitting next to you. Somehow you always had the luck of them eating something disgusting, talking loudly on the phone, constantly bumping into you or being a stranger to the concept of headphones.

Your eyes wander over to your friend and her husband for the millionth time. They were sitting together, cuddling, yet somehow each minding their own business. Her husband looking out of the window, headphones in, music on and daydreaming. Your friend reading the newest book from her favourite author. How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

You let out a sigh. You've been single for so long... a partner was still written in the stars and wouldn't come by anytime soon. So you'd have to deal with strangers next to you on the train, the couch for yourself and your family constantly badgering you when you'd move back and find a partner. It's not like you planned being almost thirty and still single. As a child you dreamed about being married with children at this age. Maybe having a little house and a dog. You wanted to be surrounded by friends, leave your family out of it as much as you could. Just enjoy life with your partner. But here you were, still alone. Maybe wallowing in self pity at a life that could have been would be a good way to pass time till you were back at your family's place.

You pull your suitcase after you. The walk from the train station wasn't too long and you know better than to ask anyone to pick you up. You don't want to inconvenience them or owe them. Last time you asked your mother and she made you wash all the dishes from the family party by hand after you played waitress during the entirety of it. You'd rather choose walking 30 minutes to the house than do that again.

As you come closer you spot your grandpa's car in the driveway. He must be here to oversee the preparations for his birthday party tomorrow. You briefly look down at yourself, jeans and t-shirt. It looks good enough but you already know you'd be criticised left and right. Never enough for them.

With a deep breath you ring the doorbell and wait. It's not too long before the door opens to reveal your mother. She takes in your appearance and sneers before she greets you. She steps to the side to let you in. "You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." She grumbles before she goes to the living room to announce that you're here. Well if you knew your grandpa would be here a day early you would have tried to wear something nicer. You leave your suitcase next to the door and follow her into the living room. You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

"Enough. Let's not ruin this joyful day for our family." He announces before he gets up and stands next to you. Joyful day? What happened? Did he finally win the lottery? You look at him confused.

"You all need to learn to not criticise her so much anymore. After all it would be a bad image to her fiancé and the press." Everyone nods along as if what he said did make any sense. Even your father who usually only shows interest for the drink in front of him, nods along. Has he got dementia since the last time you visited? "What?" Is all you can bring out at which your mother scoffs.

"Well dear... It took you a long time to find a partner, which in hindsight I'm very grateful about. You know our family has a long history and its history and glory shall be restored soon enough.” Your grandpa declares like it's some victory. “Many hundred years ago our ancestors made a deal with the royal family of Brooken. The first heirs of opposite sex shall marry and unite our families. It just never worked out age wise until you came along. Born just two years after the now reigning King Steven Rogers." He explains and you're absolutely sure they all lost their damn minds. No royal family would make a deal with commoners, especially back then.

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing. They all looked rather serious... And the house looked so clean... Was this not a joke?

"This... This has to be a joke...?" You say, looking at him with desperation. "Why would it be? You'll restore the Hasting family's glory and finally be of use to us.” your heart breaks a little more. Were you truly this worthless? Did nothing you did for them before count? You look up at them, desperate to find any sign that this wasn't true. That they were playing a prank. The stone faces of your parents and siblings look back at you. This... This wasn't a joke. They'd marry you off to some stranger. To a king? To gain what? What about your life? What about your place? Your job? You can't just leave that behind for some king who's probably a huge asshole... Your long fought for freedom taken by your family and that guy. Back under control, every move watched and criticised.

The rest of the day has been cruel. Your family was between joy at your engagement to a king and anger at you trying to refuse. In-between all the explaining, that really didn't give you any new information or any that would make sense of the situation, you texted your friend which promised to call you later.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want. And in his castle? I probably won't even be allowed to hang a picture on the wall. There'll be people watching my every move and reporting back to him. I'll be just as miserable as I used to be at my parents place.” The white of the ceiling starts to become blurry with the tears that are about to spill. “What if I can never see you again? What if he won't let me have any friends?” Your voice breaks at the thought.

“He doesn't look like he'd be such an asshole. He looks nice and the articles write nice things about him too.” She reasons. “Yeah and who has big influence on the press? Him. Of course they wouldn't write anything bad about him.” You complain. “They have written not so nice things about him. Especially with him grieving his mother…” that you do feel sorry for. They seemed to have a good relationship, losing a loving parent isn't easy. “Give him a chance. You never know maybe he's a prince charming.” Her voice sounds encouraging.

“What does a king even want with a commoner? Why would a king make a deal like that hundreds of years ago? I don't get it…” you question. “Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.” At that you snort a bit. “Maybe… he seems eager to get married. My family is eager for this. Why am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” Your hands pick on the scratchy blanket your mother put on the guest bed for you. “Because you're the one who loses a lot for this. Your family gains royalty… at least they'll be royal adjacent? I mean they do have the stick up their asses like royals already. And he gains a wife? Dating must be hard when you're a king.” She muses. “His last relationship was six years ago. His ex left him for another prince and got married like a year after.” You hum at the information she found. His whole life could be found on the internet which makes you wonder what he even knows about you? Your family didn't even know you so he couldn't even get something accurate from them.

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?” you sigh at your friends offer but ultimately agree. You'll try, it's not like you can leave the house and flee without your family noticing and coming for you anyways. You place your phone on the nightstand and cuddle up in bed. Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

"Sorry Steve... I can check a few more things but this is airtight... They can force you to marry that girl..." his lawyer says. Steve sighs and looks up from his desk to look at the brunette who meets him with a warm empathetic smile. Maria Hill, top of her class, badass in their softball team and brilliant lawyer. Steve recommended her to his mom when the old lawyer retired. Maria showed her wits and was hired within two hours of her interview.

"There's no way a deal from over a hundred years ago still holds up! You're telling me there was not a single occasion where this desk could have already been fulfilled? Aren't the Hastings fucking hornballs with so many family members? They're not even royal anymore! How does this hold up?" Bucky rants, clearly trying to protect his friend. Maria meets his eyes and lifts an eyebrow.

"Well if you want to go through the entire family trees and history to try and prove that be my guest. Matter of fact is that King Joseph and King George thought of everything in their agreement. Even the downfall of royalty... Or in this case the downfall of one royal family. This seems to be their way back. Making Steve marry the granddaughter so at least she is tuly royal." Maria says dryly. "I will check it over once more. I think we all should get as much rest as this night still offers but... don't get your hopes up Steve." She adds as she gets up and takes the contract that was in the envelope before. "What if we kill her. Can't marry someone that's dead" Bucky suggests and immediately gets a slap on the back of his head from Sam.

"As your lawyer I would advice against the murder of the future spouse of your best friend. You'd be one of the first suspects and I'm sorry to say this Barnes but your pokerface isn't as great as you'd like to think." Maria states before she looks at Steve. He's exhausted, his face in his hands, his hair ruffled. "Go to bed Steve." She says softly, worried about her friend.

Steve let's out a sigh and gets up. "Dismissed. Good night." Is all he can say before he drags himself out of his office and up the stairs. His mind is a flurry of thoughts that just won't shut up no matter how much he tries. He lets out a sigh as soon as he reaches the third floor. To the left is his room, to the right the room of his mother. His legs move on their own, carrying him to the portrait of her that's covered in a black veil. In the last month he often stood in front of it. He wished it good night before he'd get in bed. Just like he planned to do today.

"Night mom..." He whispers, the tears in his eyes returning once more. "This is all so hard without you… you would know what to do with this stupid deal… I wish you were here." his voice breaks at that. He gulps and tries to hold back his tears. He isn't in the safety of his own bedroom yet. But he isn't sure he's gonna make it till there. His eyes wander to his door, so far away, and back to the portrait. He gulps and moves towards her door. Her room is safe too. Even if it brings sad memories.

He softly closes the door behind him, his eyes falling onto her bed. He'd often sleep with her as a child. When he had nightmares, when he was upset about his father dying, when he was sick. Just one more time he tells himself and takes off his shoes. He can sleep in the sweatpants and shirt he put on earlier, he doesn't need a fancy pyjama set. Hesitantly he slips under the yellow covers. His nose immediately fills with her scent. Her favourite laundry detergent mixed with her perfume and he can't hold back the tears any longer. The dam breaks and he sobs into her pillow. After many minutes of crying he falls asleep enveloped by her one more time.

[allastoredeer]

Rewatching episode 1 right now and sdofsljfkljk have we ever talked about how unhinged it was of Adam and Lute to just...sit in the dark while they waited for Charlie? Like, there was no reason they had to do that. Adam was trolling Charlie before he even met her.

And it HAD to be his idea too. I can totally imagine him insisting on sitting in the dark until Charlie showed up just so they could scare her, and the only reason Lute agreed was because he claimed it was an "intimidation" tactic, but he just thought it'd be hilarious and wanted to be an asshole.

[blackjackkent]

Astarion doesn't hesitate once the fight is complete. Still covered in the blood of the werewolf he just finished killing, bare-chested and battered, he hurls himself at the stone coffin into which Cazador retreated.

"No, no!" he roars. "No healing sleep for you! WAKE UP!"

Grabbing Cazador by the collar, he hurls him out onto the stone floor.

Cazador scrabbles backwards across the bloodstained platform, struggling to retain his disdainful expression around the fear suddenly in his eyes. "Get your hands off me, worm!" he spits.

Astarion towers over him, the master he has hated for so long finally brought low. "I'm not the one in the dirt," he snarls, like a kicked dog finally showing its teeth.

He reaches down, picks up a dagger that has fallen to the floor as Cazador was thrown across it. It's a strange blade, not like one Rakha has ever seen.

At its center, held within curving strips of polished metal, is a stake of wood. Wyll has told her of how vampires die; she can see the purpose of such a blade. That is not a weapon made for mortal men.

Astarion looks at it, then lifts it to point the tip at Cazador. It trembles almost imperceptibly in his grip. "One last thrust," he hisses - and his voice is trembling too. "And I'll be free of you. I'll never have to fear you again."

He swallows, then flicks his eyes to the staff on the ground at Cazador's side. "But if I finish the ritual you started... I'll never have to fear anyone. Ever." His eyes glow with manic, desperate hunger - and fear.

Cazador laughs hollowly. "You think me a fool?" he cries. "That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words, and ascend in my place?!" He leans forward a little, headless of the sharp tip of the dagger pointing at him. "The runes I carved into your flesh bind you and all seven thousand souls to the ritual! Complete it, and those bearing the scars will be sacrificed - you included."

He pushes himself up on his knees, even now striking out against Astarion with word after word. "You are simply a means to an end! I made you to be consumed!"

Astarion's fingers tighten on the dagger's hilt. A muscle works violently in his jaw as he stares down at his unrepentant tormentor.

"I am so much more," he whispers, "than what you made me."

There's a long, strained pause. Then he looks up abruptly, fixing his eyes on Rakha. "Get over here," he snaps brusquely. "We can do this."

Rakha doesn't move, doesn't say anything for a long time.

She knows what Astarion wants her to do. She even, on some level, knows why he wants it. This ritual, whatever it fully entails, is the ultimate throwing off of the shackles that have held him for centuries. He wants to be free. He wants not to be afraid anymore.

He wants peace, just as Rakha wants it. But he wants to obtain it by accepting the darkest version of the monster that he has become.

The idea makes her skin crawl. She has stood on the same precipice as him, offered a gift that came with the selling of her soul. She wants to grab him by the shoulders, pull him away, out of reach, before it can swallow him.

"Didn't you hear him?" she asks hoarsely. "If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed..."

Astarion barks a sharp laugh. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Perhaps he does. So many times before, her friends have faced choices of this magnitude, and she has trusted to their judgment rather than her own. Shadowheart with her spear, and Lae'zel's stand against Vlaakith, and Wyll's choice of his future, and Gale with the Crown of Karsus. She has never believed that she might know better than them, and this hardly seems the time to start.

This is Astarion's choice, not hers.

Isn't it?

"All right," she mutters haltingly, one hand rapidly flexing into a fist at her side. "What... do you need?"

"I need your eyes," he says. His voice sounds hollow and exhausted - but brittle with determination. "In a manner of speaking."

"What do you think you are doing?" Cazador hisses.

"Unmaking what you made me," Astarion growls, his eyes not leaving Rakha. "Use the parasite," he tells her. "Link your mind to mine. Through your eyes, I can see the scars on my back and copy them onto his."

Cazador's eyes widen, showing the whites at their edges. "You... would not dare."

"I would," Astarion murmurs. "And I will. You will be consumed. And all the power you've lusted after will be mine!"

"And what then, Astarion?" Jaheira asks flatly at Rakha's side. "You would use this power born of so much death for *good*, I suppose?"

Astarion ignores her. His eyes have not left Rakha's, not even to blink. "Help me do this. Please."

Rakha hesitates. She can feel Jaheira's sardonic disapproval, and Wyll's gaze digging into the back of her neck. She senses Minsc vibrating with barely-restrained anger. Even Lae'zel seems somewhat disquieted, her fingers tapping restlessly against the hilt of her sword.

But it is... Astarion's choice. Not hers. Not anyone's....

Mechanically she takes a step forward, and then another.

Enter Astarion's mind so he can proceed with the ritual.

Narrator: Your minds join and your two selves become one. You can feel the knife in your hand, see the scars on his back, and taste his hunger for power.

The bitter, brutal emotion pours through her like a waterfall, like a burning flame. Rakha grunts with sudden pain, clutching at her temple, but Astarion's eyes go wide with exhilaration.

"Yes. Yes - I see it!" he hisses.

In a quick, smooth, harsh set of motions, he steps behind Cazador and rips the robe off of him, baring his back and shoving him to the floor.

And Cazador screams as Astarion, over and over and over, sinks the knife into his flesh and begins to carve.

(A/N: This is a truly unpleasant little sequence and goes on for quite some time before eventually fading to black to indicate that it goes on even longer.)

All sense of time fades out. For a while Rakha is conscious only of the screaming, and the blood, and the overwhelming sense of delighted rage flowing into her from Astarion's mind. She doesn't know how long she's been standing there when the connection finally breaks.

She comes back to herself standing at Astarion's side. He and Cazador are both soaked in blood. The others look on with expressions ranging from appalled to enraged.

"There," Astarion hisses. "Perfect."

"Ungrateful child," Cazador chokes out. Tears are streaming down his face, cutting lines through the red painting his cheeks. "Wretched child!"

Astarion just smiles. "Time to take your place!"

He lifts the staff from the ground, and it glows with blood-red power in his hands. With a jerk, he lifts Cazador from the ground and hurls him into the socket where Astarion himself was held only minutes earlier.

Everything begins to happen at once. Astarion slams the staff into the sigil at the center of the platform, and around Rakha the Weave seems to explode with that same red, writhing light. All around them, the suspended spawn begin to scream, their voices echoing and rebounding on each other and mixing with other screams from below and behind, from the seven thousand other souls prepared to burn for this ascension.

Rakha staggers with the intensity of it, the overwhelming wall of sound and light and pain.

Behind her, barely audible through the chaos, she can hear her companions begin to shout, unable any longer to hold themselves back.

"No!" Wyll cries. "What are you doing?"

"Enough!" shouts Minsc. "We can still stop the nonsense words in his mouth!"

"This isn't the way!" shouts Lae'zel. The three of them break into a run towards Astarion - but the wall of power around him rises to meet them, slaps them back like a physical blow.(*)

At Rakha's side, Jaheira reaches out and seizes her forearm with a sudden fierce grip. "Are we truly to be party to this?" she asks, her voice low enough to cut underneath the screaming around them.

Rakha has gone completely still. The magic is pounding at her like a creature with fists and claws, and the screams echo in her mind, resonating with the memories of a thousand other deaths at her hands in a life she does not remember.

It is Astarion's choice. She is a broken thing, with no right to believe she knows better on this or anything else.

And yet...

I am so much more than what you made me, Astarion said.

An image flashes through her mind, painful as the edge of a knife, of the last moments before her death in the Temple of Bhaal, another moment soaked in red light and blood. Her father's rage as she rejected his 'gift'.

You refuse me? You are my spawn! Your veins course with my unholy blood. Your life is mine!

You were made to conquer! To devour! You reject my blood, and so I will reclaim it!

I will make another who is worthy...

She opens her eyes and stares at Astarion's body, writhing in the grip of the gift he has stolen from his own monstrous 'father,' on the precipice of the oblivion she rejected. And she knows, suddenly, that wrong or right, she cannot let this go on.

This ends here, I said. It ends... here...

We are more than what they made us.

Stop Astarion.

With more instinct than thought, she hurls herself across the platform, lifting the knife with the stake at its core from the place where Astarion discarded it.

Astarion's head swivels to face her, and for a single instant his eyes widen as he recognizes what she is trying to do.

"What are you doing?" he cries over the screams around them. "No - stop!"

She does not stop.

She hurls the knife like a javelin into Cazador's chest.

Silence, abrupt and complete. The swirling power fades. The screaming stops. Cazador, pouring blood from the wound in his heart, slithers to the floor and lays still.

Astarion staggers, then collapses to his knees, letting the staff clatter onto the stone beside him. "It's... it's gone... All that power..." he whispers.

Rakha releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She is trembling all over, her eyes fixed not on Astarion but on Cazador's bloodsoaked body. In the moment of her attack, she was striking not just at him but at Bhaal as well - but Bhaal is not here, just the vampire who dies along with Astarion's hope for ascension.

"You don't need it," she mutters. "You're more than strong enough as you are."

We... are so much more than what they made us. Come with me. We will live, and be damned to them all.

But Astarion's head lifts and he stands and rounds on her, and there is no gratitude in his eyes, no hope. They are like burning coals set in the paleness of his face.

"Don't you tell me what I needed!" he snarls. He looks hollowed out, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I was so close - I could have had it all," he says with desperate, furious grief, stepping closer to her. "But you took everything from me!"

His voice lifts to a sudden scream of violent despair, and he grabs her by the collar of her robes, jerking her forward.(*)

The rage in his eyes shows no understanding of why she did what she did, or the similarity she sees between them, or the terrible things that have been done to them both. He needs an enemy, and he no longer has Cazador, and she is the only target that remains.

"Cazador won after all," he says - and his voice is suddenly soft again, hollow and mournful. "I'll never escape the hell he built."

And then his face goes hard for the last time, until it is nothing but steel and rage. "And if I can't escape... then no one can. Not them--"

He drops suddenly, lifts the staff, and without hesitation snaps it across his knee. The power still within it - the power that would have released the seven thousand trapped spawn - bursts in a sudden supernova around his hands... and then fades to nothing.

Through the fading, dying ripples of the Weave, he stares into Rakha's eyes, and if there was ever friendship between them, it's gone now, gone forever to the same place as all that power.

"And certainly not you," he growls. The pieces of the broken staff clatter to the ground, and his fingers close around Rakha's throat.

-----

(*) Artistic license in this whole bit. Only one companion actually speaks up here (in-game it was Minsc), and none of them actually do anything but watch. But I wanted to give everyone a little more activity, so I dug all four characters' lines out of the dialogue files.

(*) Also artistic license obviously.

[dykesynthezoid]

“Armand should get to just kill Marius” tbh if Armand ever killed Marius he would pull a Sada Abe. Who said that

[aleburton]

This is wrong. The words pulsed inside her skull, over and over again, like a relentless mantra.  Somewhere, her charming fiancé was entertaining guests, his effortless grace filling the space she had abandoned. She could picture him now. His hand tucked into the pocket of his impeccably tailored Dolce & Gabbana trousers, fingers twitching subtly in her absence. He was alone, companionless, unaware. Her hand, the one meant to be cradling his, was instead pressed against another man’s face. Not just any man. Zach Winthrop. Her ex-boyfriend. Her ruin. The one love story that had nearly consumed her whole. She had never given Andrew a reason to doubt her, never once hinted at even the possibility of betrayal. Why would she? He was, by all accounts, perfect, steadfast and unwavering, offering her the fairytale life she had always claimed to want. The kind of love that was easy, clean, safe. And yet, standing here, fingers tracing the sharp angles of Zach’s jaw, that dream felt like nothing more than a childish fantasy. A distant, girlish desire. Because when she was around Zach, there was no future. No careful planning, no well-manicured path leading toward the happily ever after she had envisioned. There was only now. The heat between them, thick and electric. The raw, unspoken hunger that hummed beneath every breath. She was losing control. And for one dangerous, fleeting moment, she didn’t care.

Zach looked at her with a longing that couldn’t be imitated, couldn’t be manufactured, an intensity that burned only for her. His eyes flickered softly, dark lashes framing the undeniable pull in his gaze. Over and over, his focus dropped to her lips, lingering there, as if he were weighing the risk, measuring the moment, deciding if he was bold enough to close the space between them. Then, he leaned in. Her breath hitched, catching somewhere between her ribs, a sharp intake of air she never exhaled. Somewhere deep inside, logic still fought for control. An instinctual flicker of self-preservation. She tilted her head back slightly, a reflexive retreat, but there was nowhere to go. The cool press of the wall behind her, the solid weight of his body in front, she was trapped in every way imaginable. He was unmoved by her question. Didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. Had those few sips of alcohol clouded his judgment, emboldened him past the point of rationality? Or was this deliberate? A choice, not an impulse? And what about Kylie? Had she been erased from his mind entirely? But the thought barely had time to form before it dissolved into nothing. Because in the next breath, his lips brushed against the soft, heated curve of her cheek, then lower, settling in the tender hollow beneath her ear. Barely there. A whisper of contact, yet it unraveled her completely. Her mind emptied, wiped clean. No reason, no consequences. Only need. Her hand drifted downward, fingers trembling as they pressed against his chest, the crisp cotton of his button-down bunched between her fingertips. Her heart pounded against her chest, but her body had already made its choice.

His breath ghosted over her skin, warm and intoxicating, sending a sharp shiver down her spine. Her pulse quickened, betraying her. “Zach,” she muttered, a warning, or was it permission? He didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a husky murmur, whispering against the delicate skin behind her ear. Each syllable sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her, her stomach tightening as his hips pressed firmly against hers.It took everything in her not to completely come undone, not to fall headfirst into the intoxicating rhythm they knew so well. She knew how this went. Alex loved to tease. Loved to make him wait, to draw it out, to watch the unraveling in his eyes. Her fingers would ghost downward, seeking out the hard proof of his need, the growing bulge hidden beneath layers of fabric. Or maybe she would sink to her knees, tilting her head up with a devilish smirk, watching him lose control as she took her time, slowly lowering his zipper, his pants, his briefs, until he was left with nothing but ragged breaths and a plea for relief. It always ended the same. With her filled, in one way or another. His hands skimmed over her body, a slow, reverent exploration, as if savoring every inch of her. Even through the rich black velvet clinging to her curves, his touch seared her skin, branding her. And all she could think about was him stripping it away. Right here. Right now. In the hallway, in front of anyone reckless enough to stumble upon them.

The space between them had ceased to exist, their bodies fusing in the heat of proximity, caught in the gravity of something inevitable. Alex panted softly, her breath uneven, her skin hypersensitive to every graze of his lips. Every nerve in her body felt raw, exposed. Each delicate brush of his mouth against her skin sending another jolt of electricity straight through her. It was unbearable, this tension, this languid, torturous build-up with no escape. Because they couldn’t do anything about it. And that made it all the more maddening. The pressure mounted inside her, coiling tight in her chest, her abdomen, lower, until every part of her ached for relief that would never come. “Yes,” she finally breathed, her voice unsteady, her grip on reality clawing its way back to her. Her lashes fluttered open, taking in their surroundings, the hazy blur of golden sconces and endless doors stretching down the hallway. How much time did they have before guests began spilling out of the lounge, filling the corridors, bringing the world crashing back down around them? Her palm pressed flat against his chest, pushing gently but firmly, peeling herself away from the intoxicating pull of him. “Which is exactly why we can’t do this,” she whispered. Her gaze locked onto his, searching, “One of us will eventually…”

Time extended, stringy and wispy, around them, and their bubble grew vacuum-tight. Touching her was like watching her wake up; or at least, a part of her that she hadn’t realized had been sleeping shudder into dazed life. His heart thudded sharply, clenching and twisting like a fist and exploding out, blood in his ears too loud to let the music from down the hallway in. His fingers spanned wide on her waist, the pads of his fingertips gently pressing, pressing, like trying to find the old impressions he’d left there. He couldn’t find them. He’d just have to make new ones. Alex’s chest fluttered and swelled against his ribs, her shallow rose breath spilling and bleeding from her open petal mouth, blurred and ephemeral like an actualisation from a lucid dream. She whispered to him, face lifting to heaven, the threat of her lips so imminent upon his his eyes almost shuttered to a blissful close. What she had said didn’t hold much weight, and they both knew it; he could feel her everywhere, tight and soft all around him, an ignorant moth to the dazzling flame. She made no move to refuse him. Dizziness became of the moment, a feverish trance fizzing in his nerve-ends as his hands tightened on her. Not to hold her there, but to feel her as much as he could. He had waited too fucking long, had dreamt of it until he woke up with a scream in his throat. He needed her now.

Eyes opening and closing in slow-motion; when he blinked into focus there she was, trapped between his body and the wall, real and pearl-bright. He caught her frightened desired as it jumped from her mouth, so close to his, down his throat. He held it in a locked box in his chest. He wouldn't forget he'd seen it. Use you. Something of an admission; the hazard she skirted around. The truth that she could never truly use him, that something far more fragile would be tangled up in the stakes than their bodies alone. And that thing thudded arrhythmic through Dior velvet, ricocheted off his tattooed ribs. Her hand floated up, tentative. Fingers flitting nervous around his jaw like he might not be real, like none of this might be. Like if she touched him they’d go up in flames. Maybe they would. His eyes flickered bright and urgent as they met hers, daring her, daring her...

He met her in the middle. His head twitched to an angle, catching the crescent moons of her nails as she hesitated. Her palm settled, ghost-like, fingers hooking delicately at the sharp turn of his jaw. Zach breathed out unevenly. His gaze flitted undecidedly between her eyes and her mouth, the reflection of dancing lights on the glass of her lips. Zach…

He responded to his own name involuntarily, drawing so close to her mouth their bottom lips brushed. But for only a second, and barely at all. Still, he flinched with it like he'd been shocked. A hot tear opened him up from head to foot. Something stirred deep, deep in his abdomen, the blood circling there in threat. What are we doing? she asked, and he barely smiled, barely laughed through his nose. But he did. His eyes fluttered to a half-close as he tried to focus, but all he could feel was her against him, like nothing else in the world. Not even like her memory. He inhaled sharp through his nose. “I don’t have the answer to that yet,” he muttered, face angling into her open palm, lips narrowly missing hers as he drew in closer.

Instead, they grazed her cheek, her jaw, as he slid down into the spot behind her ear. Her earring knocked against his cheek, the scent of her perfume making water rise to the back of his teeth. He hissed delicately, overwhelmed, too many things too glitteringly blissful to contain the sound. Into the pocket behind her ear, he muttered so the words took shape on her skin. “But isn’t it fucking killing you, waiting to find out?” he almost moaned the question, hips nudging forward, pinning her tighter. He huffed gently. His hands planed up from her hips to her middle, spanning wide and firm, feeling her slightness and stretching her carefully up toward him. She smelled like, felt like, he could eat her alive. His face turned deeper inward, lips brushing spot behind her ear as he went on muttering to her like a prayer.“Doesn’t the not knowing… doesn’t it make you want to fucking explode?”