#people cross the road to avoid him

[padfootastic]

i just want to put it out there that sirius black is scary as fuck from a purely physical point of view.

he’s tall as shit, has been since fifth year when he got his growth spurt, and he has tendency to loom over most people.

there’s also the matter of his poker face—it’s impeccable, untouchable. can make anyone feel like him stuck to the bottom of his shoe. he learnt it from the best in house black and it’s his default. there’s a reason people are afraid of approaching him, and are slightly awed by james’ ability to unconditionally do so at all times.

his magic is ridiculously sentient. it swirls around him at all times, often feeling suffocating to those near him. he doesn’t even notice how it swells with his emotions, rising in his defence without him having to call it. at times, it can feel like a brick wall, that’s how powerful it is. and it’s cold. people have been known to shiver and turn into metaphorical icicles around him.

and he’s also just intimidating in a—social capital way ykno? so much money, training, and status. it shows. he could be dressed in a potato sack and he’d still reek of royalty. which is essentially what the blacks are.

and this is it u don’t take padfoot into account. this fuckoff huge Grim who’s literally an omen of death, easily twice the size of any human around him, just bounding around with sharp canines on display and malice in his eyes. it’s the easiest thing to piss ur pants when u come into contact w him.

#sirius black #james potter #goes without saying most of these are hcs #not the height thing tho that’s just canon #(and what inspired this too lol) #i was just thinking of how sirius is physically imposing #and how u don’t need to be built like a truck for it #bc james is. but he’s not threatening. he is slightly intimidating in that he commands authority #but people aren’t *scared* of him #sirius tho? #people cross the road to avoid him #and this is just him as is #when he actually starts dressing up and shit #it’s worse #some of my fav sirius descriptions in fics are just when they’re describing his power lol #pura khada ho jaata hai ngl #bc he just??? has so much?!? of it?? #and that’s not to even touch the political or economic part of it #idk man he’s just hot all around bc of how powerful and this scary he is #also re sirius’ height; one of my fav posts on this hellsite will forever be the nba player sirius one lmao #v v accurate i think #pen’s notes

[emmashouldbewriting]

Walkies was fun today 🐕🌲🌳

#german shepherd #black gsd #big giant pupper #black german shepherd #gsd #why is everyone scared of him #look at that face #he's as scary as a tub of marshmallows #people literally cross the road to avoid him

[jgnico]

Is someone gonna talk about the use of signage in yesterday's episode? Do I have to be the one to talk about the use of signage in yesterday's episode?

I know we all saw the billboard beside Choso displaying the abilities of his technique in tandem with the narrator, but there were so many more great uses of the signs in the background to convey information.

The first sign (and also one of the first shots) that we see in the episode is a Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign overlaid by the sound of Yuuji running, followed by Yuuji's shadow itself taking up the position of the pedestrian on the sign. You can read this as the sign telling Yuuji not to proceed to where he's going or as an indication of how the upcoming fight will end for the viewer.

The next sign that we get is one telling us to Go Left, which doesn't really seem important, but I promise you, it is. We'll see a lot of arrows pointing left throughout the episode and every single one of them is pointing away from danger. Go Left to avoid danger, essentially.

These two signs are arguably the most important in the episode, but they aren't the coolest use of visual symbolism that we got, so lets keep going.

The third sign that we see focused on in the episode is a No Running sign that Yuuji passes that says "Do Not Rush. It Is Dangerous." Yuuji, of course, runs past it on his way toward the escalators that lead (for him) to Gojo and (for the viewer) to Choso.

Once he does get to the bottom of the escalators, Yuuji is attacked by Choso immediately and Choso's opening move (Convergence), once Yuuji moves his arms up and away from his face, slices up through the subway cieling and the road above to cut the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign that we saw at the beginning of the episode in half.

We also get out first big Left Arrow, placed immediately in the foreground of the shot and pointing toward the aforementioned sign that's been cut in half (this will be important later), but in a another view, it also points away from station itself. Again, go left to avoid danger.

Our next Left Arrow is on the ceiling between Yuuji, indicating that he should go away from Choso. Interestingly enough, it also points toward the bathrooms that Yuuji will go into later once his fight with Choso in the hallway becomes too dangerous.

That same arrow falls to the floor between them once Choso gets mad after Yuuji tells him about Eso and Kechizu crying, this time pointing directly away from Choso.

Another Left Arrow, this time in a more urgent red. We see this once Yuuji realizes that he's in serious danger, that he'll loose if he continues to fight Choso in the hallway. It's also pointing away from the bathrooms and toward the escalators from Yuuji's point of view beside the bathrooms, indicating that he needs to leave the area entirely.

The previous arrow pointing toward the bathrooms as a safe option has been destroyed and Yuuji has taken some serious damage by the time he moves toward them. The bathrooms are no longer safe. Yuuji needs to leave.

This is followed up by the only Right Arrows that we see focused on in the epsiode, but unlike the Left Arrows, they aren't used to convey how to get away from danger, but rather what is dangerous. Not only do these arrows all point toward Choso outside of the shot, they also have each of his techniques displayed below them.

Once the bathroom fight is over and Yuuji is on death's door, we get a zoomed out shot of his body framed by (two) people cut in half. This sign is shown right before Sukuna makes his only appearance in the episode, where we hear the sound of electricity flickering.

We heard this exact sound earlier from the Left Arrow telling Yuuji to get away from Choso at the beginning of the fight, but I like to interpret it as an audio indicator of Yuuji's life and/or control of Sukuna flickering in and out, becoming weaker.

Side Note: In the previous shot of Yuuji that we get before this one, we see a blade of light cutting Yuuji in half, the same way Convergence cut the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign in half earlier in the episode. This will come into play later in the post, but keep it in mind.

The next time we see these bisected bathroom signs is when Mimiko and Nanako approach Yuuji to awaken Sukuna. Two people framing Yuuji/Sukuna that have been cut, while those same signs are whole in the hallway to the left. Go left to avoid danger applies to the girls here as well.

Our next important set of signs are actually the same sign, a large green arrow in the foreground that points away from where Yuuji's body is. While Choso stumbles away from it (away from Yuuji/Sukuna) the girls walk toward it.

This is also the first Left Arrow that we see point toward Choso, unlike the one pointing away from him at the beginning of his and Yuuji's fight. Choso, at this moment and onward, is no longer a source of danger to Yuuji or to us, the viewer.

And finally, the final shot of the entire episode, our old friend, the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign. Yuuji has lost to Choso, the girls have found him to awaken Sukuna, and we get a focus shot of the Pedestrian that previously represented Yuuji cut in half and covered in blood.

I mentioned earlier that we get another shot of Yuuji cut in half by a ray of light in the bathroom.

Here is that shot, and the way that I interpret it is as a reminder that Yuuji shares his body. Yuuji's control of his body has been cut off in the same way that the Pedestrian representing Yuuji has had part of it cut away. What's left is the part that Yuuji can't control, the Pedestrian covered in blood.

Additionally, repeated use of a sign showing pedestrians cut in half and bloody can also represent the civilians in Shibuya, especially now that Yuuji no longer has control of his body.

#anywho ty for reading my long post about signs and their meanings in the episode #i was originally going to make this more meme like and shorter #but after going through the epsiode several times i found it more interesting and cool than amusing #signs man. theyre everhwhere #jujutsu kaisen #jjk meta #itadori yuuji #choso #mimiko and nanako #ryomen sukuna #nicos meta

[always-a-king-or-queen]

The Pevensies are foreign when they return home.

The streets no longer know them. They do not seem to fit in their own bodies as they stroll the cobbles, Lucy’s hand tucked carefully into Peter’s, Edmund trailing watchfully behind Susan like a shadow. Their eyes are sharp, their smiles crooked, and those who see them cross to the opposite side of the road, afraid of the ancient gleam they see reflected back at them that does not belong in the eyes of a child.

Water murmurs to Lucy when she flits past, and lamplight follows her wherever she goes, even in broad daylight when the lamps are unlit. Their flames sputter into existence when she walks by, flickering at her in a way that seems to whisper I know you. Lucy looks at them with feral teeth and smiles, and vines twist from the cobbles at her feet. She laughs like a wild thing, eyes glowing, but a moment later she blinks and it is gone. Her feet hardly seem to touch the ground at all as she darts through the alleys.

The sky is clearer when Peter walks the streets, clouds vanishing like they were never there at all. His eyes are too much like a lion’s, struck through with gold and filled with a brooding fierceness, yet he laughs as he twirls Lucy around, and claps Edmund on the back as they share a stupid joke, and smiles with Susan when she tells him of the bow she plans to carve. He is all warmth and friendliness, but there is something about his eyes. There is something about all of their eyes.

The sun caresses Susan as she moves about, and she is graceful, too graceful, her hair seeming to be alive of its own accord as she steps lightly along the streets. Her skin is pale like ice, and sometimes her gaze appears almost silver as she stands by the river, gazing into its depths with a distant, siren-cold smile. She is gentle, but her fingers look a little too long sometimes. Her laugh is a little too unsettling.

Trees lean towards Edmund when he walks past, branches scraping his clothing, leaves showering around him. Books and journals and pages covered in notes perpetually fill his arms, spilling from his grasp but never quite falling. His voice is even-keeled, quiet, but there is something wild about it, something unhinged. He speaks of things none have ever heard before, dark hair falling into his eyes, mouth unsmiling and hands perfectly still, and for a moment he seems to be someone else, fangs beneath his lips, dirt on his tongue. He tilts his head just a little too far, sometimes.

The Pevensies are foreign when they return home. They do not fit their bodies. They do not fit the streets. People who encounter them cross to the other side of the road to avoid them, terrified of the oldness they see in the children’s faces. Such depth does not belong in the gaze of a child.

And yet four sets of eyes, ancient and deep and flickering like candlelight, stare out from the children’s faces, and their smiles are sharp, too sharp. Their laughter is a little too wild as they walk, the oldest and youngest hand-in-hand, the middle children trailing each other like shadows.

There is something about those children’s eyes.

There is something about those children.

#narnia #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #writing #ramblings from the void

[taeghi]

fleeting summers by park sunghoon | (m)

♫ song : sunsetz by cigarettes after sex

summary : meeting park sunghoon in the small town your dad moved into this summer is as vibrant as the sunsets you witness. but, as summer fades away so does your time together. hopefully when the next summer comes your paths cross again under the same sunlit skies.

genre : smut, fluff, angst, sadness????? mDNi

word count : 16,450

part of the enhypen series playlist

fleeting summers 

as the car winds its way through the quaint, sunlit streets of the small town, you sit in the passenger seat, your gaze fixated on the passing scenery. the town, a popular summer destination, boasts charming storefronts, and colourful welcoming banners and the air is tinged with sea salt and flowers. yet, despite the picturesque allure that surrounds you, there’s a palpable sense of reluctance lingering around you. this town, now your temporary residence for the summer, feels both enhancing and isolating. 

since your parents divorce earlier this year, your dad had decided to move to this idyllic escape town that might be a dream for him, but definitely not for you. this town is a separation from the familiar comforts of your home and friends. you wish you could have spent the summer with your friends like usual. your traditions having to be failed this summer since you’ve been shipped away to stay with your father for almost two months. 

the car finally turns into a narrow street lined with old wooden houses, and your new home comes into view. its rustic charm stands in stark contrast to the modern, more beachy houses that line the rest of the town. you can’t help but feel a sense of apprehension about spending the upcoming months in this solitary abode with only your dad for company. 

this town may be beautiful, but the prospect of a summer away from the people and places you hold dear casts a shadow over the otherwise vibrant scene unfolding before you. 

the creaking sound of the door echoes through the old house as you step inside the house, hearing your mother’s tires screech on the road as she avoids your dad. the air feels still as your dad hugs you and shows you around. you’re glad to see him, not being able to see him for months, but still, the dread of the long summer ahead of you ponders through your mind that your smile fails to show. 

you walk into the room that is now yours for the next couple of months. its wooden floor echoing with every step, so different from the fluffy carpet of your bedroom back home. the walls seem to sigh, bearing the weight of countless lives that have lived here before your dad. 

your gaze falls upon the bed- a new sanctuary of yours even though the mattress beneath your fingertips feels unfamiliar. it lacks the soft indentations that cradle you in the warmth and comfort of your own room. you lower yourself onto the bed, the lonely squeak of the springs accentuating the silence of the room. the sunlight filters through the thin curtains, casting a glow on the faded quilt your grandma had knitted you when you were a child. 

as you lay there, staring at the wood ceiling that matches the wood walls and wood floors, a sense of displacement settles within you. the room, though quaint, holds no trace of your essence. you close your eyes, attempting to reconcile with the alien sensation of this bed that will be your haven for the upcoming weeks. there’s a certain hollowness of the room that you aren’t sure you will get used to. 

the distant murmur of the town outside is a reminder that you can’t lay in this bed all summer. and that you had promised your dad you would be down for dinner soon. you sigh, filling the new, silent space that is now yours. 

in the beginning days that followed your summer stay, your dad, eager to catch up with you, took it upon himself to be your guide through the town. the air of teh small diner, filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sum hum of conversation became a familiar backdrop during your dinner talks. his favourite spot, he insisted, and you observed him warmly exhacning greetings with the regulars whose faces lit up at the sight of him. you were indtrocued to the many lives that intertwined in this town. 

the beach, with hits powdery sand and rhythmic waves, unfolded before you like a serene painting. seagulls swooped overhead, and the distant laughter of children created a soundtrack to the endless horizon. as you sat with your dad, the tranquility of the acne was interrupted by the approach of a man accompanied by his family. they greeted your father with familiarity and you observed them. the man’s eyes were kind as they spoke to your father and introduced his family to you. 

his children were your age, his daughter, karina, was beautiful as she greeted you. her fox like eyes still gleamed against the sun as they turned upwards into a smile. she told you that you could come along with her at any time and that she’d be glad to get to know you this summer. which you agreed to, but you knew you’d rather be alone the second you saw her prance over to her large group of friends all lounging around the beach. the girls were all beautiful and thin, and the bous they hung around with were tall and tan. you knew that you wouldn’t get along with them for too long if you went over there. 

your dad encouraged you to hang out with them for the entire day until the sun dipped lower on the horizon, indicating that it was dinner at the diner time and that you would not be hanging out with those kids for the day. 

“i know all the kids in this town and they’re all nice, y/n, why don’t you give them a chance?” your dad asks as you walk up to the diner. “what’re you gonna do? hang out with me for the rest of the summer?” 

“yes.” 

your dads amused scoff mixes with the diner door’s bell chime as he opens the door, letting you walk past him and to the usual booth you both liked to sit at, finishing the conversation for the night. 

in the subsequent days, your peripheral vision became a constant observer of karina and her friends. their laughter and presence frequently echoed against the backdrop of the town. the beach transformed into their playground whenever they stepped foot onto it. they played games on the busy boardwalk, their animated voices and screames carrying in the salty breeze. 

karina with her too sweet of a smile, repeatedly extended invitations for you to join their exploits. yet, an inexpeclicable hiestance rooted itself deep within you, an unshakable feeling that resisted the allur of their friendly gestures. your ad, ever optimistic, insisted that they were good kids and that you should hang out with them. despite the reassurances, a sense of skepticism lingered like a shadow in your heart. 

you observed from a distance, a silent spectator to their adventures that stretched from the dawn’s first light to the quiet hours of the night. 

as the sun dipped down once again, and the town’s lights flickered to life, you wrestled with conflicting emotions. karina’s smile clashed with the disquiet that nestled in your thoughts. the balance of trust and apprehension teetered on the edge, leaving you perched on the sidelines before drifting off to sleep.

amidst the lively chatter and laughter that enveloped the beach, you at in solitude, your eyes tracing the rhythmic dance of the waves. the distant sounds of games and talking washed over you, but your attention was anywhere but. you had become quite good at ignoring everyone around you. 

but as you glance to your left just once, your attention is drawn away to the presence of a lone figure sitting under a beach umbrella. a boy, seemingly ignoring everyone around him as well was immersed in the world of whatever book he was so intently reading. 

he sat on a faded beach chair, an air of quiet confidence surrounding him as he turned the pages of the book that was sprawled open on his lap. The sun cast a gentle glow on the tendrils of his dark black hair, and the slight furrow of his thick browns hinted at the intensity with which he absorbed the words on the pages. his isolation mirrored yours, a shared desire for solace amidst the lively backdrop of the beach.

intrigued, you asked your dad who the boy with the book was. 

you noticed his hesitant pause as he acknowledged the boy, his eyes briefly meeting yours before averting away, “that’s park sunghoon,” 

you hum, “what’s he like?” 

“he’s quiet, keeps to himself. but his family is nice, and well, they’re super rich.” 

a smirk spread across your face in amusement at the hesitant introduction.

“and why doesn’t he hang out with the others?” 

your dad shrugged, “he’s just like that, likes to be by himself.” 

you go back into your own world until dusk starts approaching. as the sky starts to become painted with hues of amber and lavender, you reluctantly withdrew from the solace of your thoughts on the beach. walking alongside your dad, the grains of sand clung to your bare feet as you made your way to the diner once again. 

glancing back towards the beach, your eyes inadvertently met those of the boy named park sunghoon. a mild surprise tinged your otherwise inscrutable expression, his gaze unwavering as you held it. a silent acknowledgement passing between you two. his eyes, dark and unreadable, seemed to mirror the guarded emotions you concealed with your own. 

you held eye contact until you turn away, your dad seamlessly diverting your attention to the impending decision of dinner plans. park sunghoon’s face remained in your head for the entirety of dinner, having to restrain yourself from asking your dad more about park sunghoon and his family.

the next time you saw park sunghoon was in the early morning, when most of the town still slept. the sleepy streets were apinted in hues of soft pastels and the distant murmur of the ocean mingled with the quiet footsteps of the early risers. as you walked towards teh cafe to get your dad and your usual coffee for breakfast, smiling to the locals that knew your father, your attention waas drawn to a tall figure in the distance, moving with large steps towards the beach. 

park sunghoon’s silhouette, etched against the backdrop of the waking town, exuded a quiet elegance. now that he was standing you could see how tall the boy was as his long strides carried him to the ocean. the morning sun, casting a golden glow on the surroundings, danced upon his tousled hair as if he had just gotten out of bed two minutes ago. 

you watched him until you couldn’t see him anymore, disappearing into different parts of town. you let yourself wonder why park sunghoon would be up so early, headed straight to the ocean, knowing that the other residents wouldn’t be there for at least another hour. there was an allure around him in the way he navigated the early hours. you wondered if he thought the world belonged to him as he headed to the beach alone. 

you didn’t see him again until later in the week. 

your room was light from the morning, coaxing you out of the embrace of your dreams. as you lingered in that hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness, your dad’s voice cut through the morning stillness as he ripped your blanket off of you. 

“hey, sleepyhead,” he laughs at your surprise, “i’m tired of you spending the whole summer holed up inside or hanging with me.” with your mumbled response he continues, “there’s a local book fair this afternoon and you’re going whether you like it or not.” 

a sigh escaped you as you half heartedly agreed and pulled your blanket back up to your chin. you snuggled back into your pillow, the prospect of leaving your cozy cocoon feeling like a monumental task. you hear your dad chuckle and say how much fun you’re going to have before leaving your room, leaving you to your drowsy thoughts. 

the book fair wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. as you wandered through the rows of stands and the smell of aged paper, you found yourself in a literary haven. there were various genres of books, both familiar and unknown. some titles sparked recognition and you found yourself drawn to the worn spines of used books. the newer books they offered were appealing, but not as interesting to you as your fingers traced over the covers. 

you’re in the quiet corner of the book fair, hidden among the bookshelves as you read over the titles in front of you. 

“read it?” 

you were so deep in thought that you didn’t even notice the boy next to you until he spoke. your eyes meet the eyes of park sunghoon and he smiles with a hint of cockiness dulled by the lack of volume in his voice. he’s there, standing in front of you. his black, messy hair is pushed back, casually tucked behind his ears and he’s wearing a hoodie that seems to be as born as the pages of the book surrounding him. you imagine that you share a similar exhausted look, despite his cockiness infiltrating. 

his smile makes you feel nervous, but the type that makes you comfortable at the same time. it’s almost familiar and oddly pleasant. it takes you a moment for you to register his question, a nod towards the book tucked under your arm. the paperback of a copy of richard brautigan’s “in watermelon sugar,”, which she had forgotten she had picked up. 

“yeah, brautigan. have you?” 

“for a book report. it was interesting, but kind of played out and too idealistic.” 

“well he wrote about love and life in a way that feels magical.” 

“there’s no magic in real life.” 

you frown slightly, “it’s about finding magic in simplicity, in the sweet things that you might miss if you don’t pay attention.” 

sunghoon smirks, “idealistic.” 

“optimistic.” 

both of you have stepped closer to each other as you spoke. you stand there in the aisle, a conversation between the strangers that feels oddly intimate as you argue over the meaning of ‘in watermelon sugar’. you wonder if he’s going to debate further or if those will be the last words you hear from park sunghoon. 

“i’m sunghoon.” 

“y/n.” 

the town has never been particularly peaceful. even at night, when majority of the locals have scampered back to their homes and the neighbourhood is shrouded in silence. the beach remains alive with activity. a small beach party, the boardwalks arcade games, the distant sound of a car driving by. you have grown accustomed to the constant chaos over the few days you’ve known park sunghoon. your neighborhood back home is usually quiet and empty, everyone absorbed into their very private, quiet lives. 

you and sunghoon find yourselves sitting atop the large rock sunghoon had shown you the day of the book fair. it looks over the glittering boardwalk across the beach. the sun has almost vanished, the sunset that once gleamed over your bodies is gone. you watch the scatter of people along the shore. 

you are wrapped in sunghoon’s oversized towel, much fluffier than the ones you own. your hair is still damp from swimming in the ocean earlier. the scent of saltwater surrounds the both of you. sunghoon keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, noticing something new about you every time. 

you’ve grown comfortable with each other through the past week. like you’re a sanctuary for one another, finding solace in the time you spend together and away from your families. neither of you have discussed their hesitance to truth others, a silent understanding forged into the solace you’ve found. 

sunghoon has inherited his wariness from his family. who bestowed upon him a life of luxury but also a legacy of disdain. he’s mentionned that his father was an influential figure in business and was more absent than present. 

but sunghoon, despite his affluent background, hates the burden of his wealth and family. he’s spoken about how stifling his parent’s expectation of him are. the emptiness that accompanies the privilege he knows he should be grateful for. though, it’s a life he never asked for. true friendships elude him; those around him are acquaintances drawn to the park name and the facade he’s expected to maintain. 

you speak, breaking the silence between you two ontop of the rock, “do you ever wish you could escape all this?” 

sunghoon shrugs, exhaling a puff of smoke that you hate. he told you he smokes just because his parents hate it, too. “everyday. the money, the expectations, my future is basically set for me and i have no choice of it. it’s suffocating. i want to be normal.” 

“college is normal. can’t you escape there?” 

“i don’t know. my brother’s in college and he hates it. my parents are constantly nagging at him to get the highest of all grades. i just think it’ll be more chaotic.” 

“plenty of girls at college, and all the parties you could want.” 

“i’m done with parties,” sunghoon speaks with a certain resolve in his tone, “i’ve gone to too many and they’re all the same boring shit.” 

“but the girls wouldn’t be so bad,” you tease him, almost challenging him to agree. a part of you resents the way you sound, but the other part wants to hear his answer. 

“whatever. i think you’re forgetting that i’m a park, y/n, i could have any girl i want.” 

you laugh at his sudden cockiness that never seems to fade. it’s a refreshing change from the sunghoon who is pessimistic and secretive. it makes you happy to know that there are other sides of him that he hasn’t quite shown you yet. 

“right, a real heartthrob.” 

sunghoon nudges your shoulder with his, “oh c’mon, don’t act like you haven’t heard all the girls talking about me.” 

“shut up, hoon.” 

you lay back on the rock, sunghoon’s towel still around your shoulders. there’s a sudden squeal underneath you from the shore. a group of teens, the ones that you recognize as karina’s friends run along the beach, laughing as one of the boys picks up a girl and swings her around on his shoulder. you glance to sunghoon’s face, who’s watching the group as he walk further away. his expression is desolate as he takes a final puff of his cigarette before exhaling and smushing it against the rock underneath him and speaks,

“come on, let’s go. i’m tired of this rock for the night.” 

you wake up early in the morning, half expecting sunghoon to be sitting on your balcony waiting for you. but you realize he doesn’t usually wake up for another half hour. it’s become a routine to follow sunghoon out onto the beach early in the morning, before anyone else can get there. outside is light blue as the sun starts to rise for the day. 

you think about how yours and sunghoon’s worlds are so different. he was born into a life you could only ever dream of within your humble roots. his family’s summer mansion sits on the hill of the town, a beacon o luxury you know you could never afford in this life time. 

but, when both of you are together, those disparities dissolve. 

both of you yearn for an escape from this mundane town. the quiet rebellion against the expected paths tht your amily controls of you. you so wish to go back home, and sunghoon wishes he had a place to call home. the dreams of a different life connect you. 

just as you’re about to fall into another deep sleep, the embodiment of your desire to escape speaks, “wake up.” your eyes open and meet sunghoon’s, who’s standing above you beside your bed, “let’s go.” 

later in the day, you and sunghoon are sunbathing on towels at the beach. the sand underneath your feet as you close your eyes and let the sun hit your body. sunghoon is beside you, reading whatever book has his mind captured now. you think that this is perfect, if you could spend everyday of being in this small town like this, you wouldn’t complain as much. a bird flies over your head and squawks out to the others. 

“hey, sunghoonie,” a voice greeted him, “and y/n,” you look up to see karina standing over top you two. her long black hair sleek as she smiles so strongly. “what are you up to?” 

you shifted, propping yourself up on your elbows as sunghoon remained engrossed in his book, his attention unwavering, “just sitting here, what’s up?” 

a mischievous look glints in her eye as you speak, “well, i wanted to invite you both to a little party i’m throwing on friday night. it’s going to be so much fun!”

you exchanged a quick glance with sunghoon, who remained immersed in his reading, seemingly unfazed by the invitation. “oh, well we’ll think about it, thanks.” you replied, a noncommittal tone in your voice. 

karina, undeterred, leaned down a bit closer, her gaze shifting towards sunghoon, “oh come on sunghoonie. you’ve got to come, it’ll be a blast, you know how much we miss hanging out with you.” her voice came out as a purr, a flirtatious edge in her words that put you on edge. 

sunghoon, however, kept his focus on his book, his response a mumble of ‘whatever’. he seemed impervious to karina’s attempts at charm, an air of indifference surroudning him in her presence. 

you couldn’t help but smile at sunghoon’s unyeildeing composure, “we’ll see, karina.” 

but karina wouldn’t stand down. with a playful nudge to sunghoon’s foot with her own and a subtle wink that you’re sure you were suppose to see, she insised, “you better come sunghoonie. it won’t be the same without you.” before sauntering away, leaving your toweled area. 

as she disappeared from view you chuckled, “sunghoonie?” 

“shut up.” 

you don’t miss the quick smile on sunghoon’s lips before you lay back on your towel. you think about karina’s words, how sunghoon must have hung out with that group before. it would be no surprise to you if you hadn’t talked about the obnoxious group multiple times. you know sunghoon is secretive and keeps to himself, but karina seems to have known him too well for your liking. 

it’s something that bothers you for the rest of the day and sunghoon can’t help but notice. when you’re both sitting atop the rock that you’re usually on when the sun starts to dip into the ocean and he’s peeking over at you when he thinks you’re not noticing, he asks, 

“what’s on your mind?” 

“nothing.” 

sunghoon sighs at your answer, knowing that something in fact is but he doesn’t want to pressure you. he’s grateful that you never pressure him, never put any expectations on him like everyone else does. to you, he’s just sunghoon– nothing else. 

“how’d you know something is on my mind?” 

sunghoon smirks at your question, but doesn’t turn to look at you, only lights another cigarette that he knows you’re going to complaint about, “because we’ve been together everyday for weeks now– i know when something is bothering you.” 

you sigh and sit up so you’re shoulder to shoulder with sunghoon and have to unfortunately smell his cigarette. 

“i didn’t know you hung out with karina and them.” 

sunghoon shrugged, “i mean, we all grew up in the same town, i would have to at some point.” 

you try not to show your discontent with his answer. you turn your head away from him and watch the ocean with him. his smoke mixing with the clouds as you listened to the water hit the shore below you. 

“did you and karina date?” 

sunghoon scoffs at your question, pure shock spreading on his face, “what? no! never.” 

you roll your eyes at his answer and lay back down onto his towel. you listen to his laugh as he can’t believe your question. you try to ignore the red heat filling up your cheeks at his reaction. 

when the sound of the waves is the only sound between you again, sunghoon’s body stiffens as he continues to smoke. he glances over at your figure, your arm covering your face with a small frown on your lips that makes his heart clench. 

“the idea of me and karina dating bothered you?” 

“shut up.” 

“i mean, why would you even think that?” 

“well sorry, i thought you were the self-proclaimed heartthrob of the town.” you raise your hands in the air. 

sunghoon chuckles, “but why would i date her?” 

your voice comes out as a whisper next, half hoping that he wouldn’t hear it, “because she’s beautiful.” 

sunghoon indeed hears it as you speak from behind him. his eyes stay set on the ocean in front of him. the sun had gone down half an hour ago, leaving the town’s lights to fill up the place for it. you smushes his cigarette against the rock, letting out a deep exhale as he does so. your words make him wonder what you really think about him. 

when you think sunghoon is about to call it a night by the way he finishes his cigarette, his words stop you from moving to pack up your things, “ever been skinny dipping?” 

“what? no?” 

“me neither. wanna do it?” 

“right now?”

sunghoon scoffs as he stands up, “yeah, c’mon.” 

before you can realize, sunghoon is dragging you down from the rock and around it, towards the ocean and away from the shores eyes. he ignores your protests as you’re forced to follow him, his hand on your wrist controlling where you go. he held a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tugged you closer to the water. the water looked like silk as he it brushed against the shore. the moonlight twinkled against it, making a path of light to draw you in. 

sunghoon’s hand dropped from you wrist as you both stood on the beach, the water just reaching your feet everytime it hit the shore. sunghoon’s smile was usually contagious, but now you were more nervous than anything to smile. 

“i can’t sunghoon.”

“you can! it’ll be fun!” you shook your head no at his encouragement, “but if you don’t want to it’s fine.” you relax, ready to suggest something else you and him can do instead for the rest of the night. “i’ll just do it by myself.” 

despite your confused exclaim, sunghoon’s hands move to pull his shirt off of his body. his pale skin soaking in the moonlight as his bright smile gleams at you. 

“it’ll be fun and i wanna try.” sunghoon shrugs as he starts to untie his bathing suit bottoms. 

“oh my god,” you cover your eyes, not being able to believe what he’s doing right now. 

“up to you if you don’t wanna see the heartthrobs body.” sunghoon teases in a sing song voice. 

“i absolutely do not.” 

you hear sunghoon scoff and shuffle his clothes around. you make sure to keep your fingers over your eyes, ignoring the voice in your head wanting to look. because even though you would never admit it; sunghoon is a heartthrob. you’re very aware of how attractive he is and how every girl in this town fights for a chance to even look at him. but he’s you’re friend, even if sometimes it feels like more. 

hearing water splashing around symbolizes that sunghoon is making his (naked) way through the water. and not too long after sunghoon calls out to tell you that the “coast is clear” and that you can look. 

cautiously, you remove your fingers from your eyes and look straight ahead, meeting sunghoon’s through the meters of water and sand inbetween you. 

“how’s it feel?” 

“like i’m having a bath in a big bathtub.” 

you watch him for a bit, swimming around in the dark water. despite sunghoon’s constant complaints about the town, you knew he absolutely loved the water. you couldn’t ignore the grand smile on his face everytime he swam. but, his smile was never as big as it was then. as he swam around the ocean naked, with just your presence around him. you watched as he used the water to push back his black hair, revealing his foreheard that you would only see while he swam. you always thought he looked the most beautiful when he swam. he seemed to be more peaceful and less tense. 

“you sure you won’t come in? the water’s so nice.” his voice echoes across the water and against the rocks. he watches you as you trace your finger in the sand beside you, drawing whatever shapes come to your mind. “it’d be more fun if you came in.”

you sigh, knowing that you’re about to give in to the heartthrob’s begging. and you hate knowing that he knows you’re giving in to him by the annoying smirk on his face. “you better turn around or else the heartthrob may become a creep.” you hear sunghoon’s laugh as he does in fact turn around, telling you that his eyes are closed under his hands that he’s placed on top of them just be sure. 

trying to set your anxiousness aside, you start to peel off your shorts and bathing suit. you feel the warm, night air blow against your entire body as you stand on the beach. your clothes are in a pile beside sunghoon’s. you slowly start to ease your way into the ocean, watching the back of sunghoon’s head as you make your way to him. the water is surprisingly warm as you glide through it. you stop when you’re a meter away from him. 

“you can turn around now.” 

you're met with sunghoon’s goofy grin. he keeps his eyes locked on your face, taking in your features as it reflects the water and moon. the tips of your hair are sunken into the water, while the top is still dry. he can’t help but think how beautiful you are right now, in a way he knows you won’t understand. 

“how’s it feel? just like i said it would?” he’s answered with a splash of water and a ‘shut up’ from you. “c’mon, let’s swim.” 

and so you follow him, both of you laughing and teasing eachother as you swim through the ocean at night. you can see the town’s lights from afar. the boardwalks’ lights of the arcades and rides flashing as the residents play around. you and sunghoon aren’t too far away from other people, but it feels like it’s just the two of you for miles. 

when the water turns cold, under the cold moon, you and sunghoon float on your backs. your hands accidentally touch eachother’s as you let the waves control your body, but neither of you mind, and instead welcome eachother’s touches. you wonder what you two look like to moon who is hovering over you in full. maybe flowers, with all of your limbs spread out wide, enjoying the water you were subsided in. 

“i’ve never felt this free before. it’s like i’m being exactly who i am, without any masks or expectations.” 

your eyes glance over at sunghoon as he speaks. you can tell that he’s being genuine, the serious expression on his face as he keeps his head pointed upwards to the night sky. 

“i get that. there’s nothing else around right now, so.” 

“yeah, but it’s you– you make me feel seen and understood. it’s liberating, you know?” 

sunghoon’s gaze meets your own, and there was a softness, an unspoken understanding. the sound of the ocean became a symphony, a gently lullaby that underscored the vulnerability of the shared sentiments. your hair was kissed by the moonlight, a smile on both of your lips as you spoke truths. 

sunghoon reached for your hand, your fingers dancing across each other’s purposefully. 

“karina’s beautiful, sure, but with you, it’s so much different. it’s like your beauty is timeless, and not just in the way you look, but in the way you make me feel.” 

you think for a second he’s drank too much salt water for the day. and you want to push him off and tease him like you usually do, but his fingers wrapped around yours so strongly tell you that you shouldn’t. his eyes held honesty and gratitude as he looked into yours. you had so many thoughts racing through your head, struggling to get out.

“you’re beautiful, too, sunghoon.” 

the walk back to your dad’s house was wrapped in a comfortable quietude, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps harmonizing with the distant sound of crickets. 

sunghoon’s gaze, laden with the memories of tonight, occasionally meets yours as you traverse the familiar path. the connection between you has changed with an unspoken understanding that doesn’t demand words.

you both stop at the front door of your dad’s house. you and sunghoon were side by side, and share a quiet acknoelwedment that their night was now ending. you’re picking at your cuticles as you gently sway back and forth, trying to occupy yourself under sunghoon’s gaze. 

“good night, y/n.” 

“night, hoon.” 

before he steps away, he leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your temple, a sweet punctuation to their night. he turns with a final smile as you back up into the house, closing the door. 

you watch him as he makes his way home down the steet. the moon casted a soft glow on his silhouette as he got farther and farther out of sight. you couldn’t help but smile. that night may have been over, but you knew you’ll see him again the next day. the echoes of his laugh and the touch of his lips on your skin promise you sweet dreams as you crawl into your bed, under the cozy covers in the town you once swore you hated. 

on friday night, you and sunghoon were in karina’s family mansion. it felt like crossing into another realm where the music pulsated in the beautiful, large house. it was so much different than any other house you had ever been in. 

sunghoon’s reluctance to attend was palpable, yet the allure of your company prompted him to step into the grandeur of karina’s world. the mansion, a labyrinth of echoing laughter and vibrant lights, held the promise of a night that would clash with the usual transquility you and sunghoon had grown accustomed to. 

in the corner of the expensive, expansive living room, amidst the huge crowd that had also been invited, you and sunghoon were settled into a quiet cocoon of your own. the atmosphere was charged with frenetic energy of partiers, but you and sunghoon found comfort in each other’s presence. you thought maybe sunghoon was already so comfortable since he had been in this house before. he had known all the other people dancing and drinking around. meanwhile you, knew nobody and were in an unfamiliar place. 

though, sunghoon found it charming the way you were so curious about the party, the house and the people. his once skeptical eyes softened as he observed you. he admired you in a way he’s never admired anyone. you wanted to experience the party, but still chose to keep to yourself, with him. sunghoon with stoic demeansor, and you with a subtle glow than formed an oasis of tranquility he had allowed himself to enter whenever he was with you. 

through the loud music and large crowd, karina made her way to the two of you. though, she only addressed sunghoon at first. when sunghoon didn’t cave in to her mischievous greeting, a new sly smirk grew on her face as she turned to you instead.

“we’re about to start a drinking game. wanna join?” 

“no thanks, we’re good.” 

you nudged sunghoon at his answer, hating the way he always answered for you. 

“sure, karina, why not.” you tell her, wanting to see what games the people in this town really played. you ignored sunghoon’s glare in the back of your head as he follow you and karina to the large group of people settled upon the couches in the living room. you could tell sunghoon was concerned, but was hiding it with annoyance as he tried to tune out karina’s voice. 

you sat on one of the couches, sunghoon standing behind you on the other side of it. he kept his cup close to his mouth as he continued to drink almost angrily. karina explained the rules of the game to everyone, making sure all the players understood before she rolled the dice. 

you kept up with the rules and the game, moving your piece alongside the board everytime it was your turn and drinking or taking a shot when you needed to. you almost forgot sunghoon was behind you with all the commotion and concentration brought on by the drinking board game. 

each round of the board escalated with intensity. you found yourself navigating the fine line between the thrill of the game and the underlying currents of karina’s mischeif. you didn’t realize that the other players of the game had formed alliances as each turn was taken. you missed karina’s sly smile as she made sure everyone took their shots, heightening the levels of intoxication of everyone, but especially you. 

the room started to echo more with the clinking of glasses and boisterous cheers of others players. you started to sway slightly, beginning to feel the effects of teh deliberate excess of alcohol pushed onto you by karina. not being able to control your body completely anymore, you let your back hit the couch, your head lulling back to rest on the couch. there, you made eye contact with sunghoon who had stood behind you the entire time you played the game. 

as soon as sunghoon made eye contact with you, he could tell how wasted you had gotten compared to everyone else. he was already on edge with the amount of times karina had told you that it was your turn to take a shot. that she was telling you to take a shot when you weren’t even suppose to. 

“alright, that’s enough,” sunghoon declared, his voice cutting through the crowd. his eyes locked onto you with a steel determination of getting you out of here. 

karina, feigning innocence, looked taken aback when sunghoon started helping you up. “what’s wrong sunghoonie? we’re just having some fun. it is a party after all.” 

“fun shouldn’t come at the cost of someone’s well being. so c’mon y/n, we’re leaving, and we are never coming back, karina.” 

with a steady arm around your waist, sunghoon guided you away from the chaotic party. the air outside, crisp and refreshing, offered a stark contrast to the sweaty, crowd inside. 

the night air seemed to revive you the farther you got away from the party and the closer you got to sunghoon’s house. his grop remained on you, protective and reassuring and conveyed a silent promise to shield you from hurting yourself due to karina’s actions. 

as you walked through the dimly lit streets of the town, sunghoon’s large house ontop of the hill emerged. away from the raucous mansion that belong to karina. sunghoon’s steps were deliberate and measured, just wanting to guide you safely. 

sunghoon managed to bring you up to his bedroom quietly, both of you smiling sheepishly as you passed the head maid who took care of him as a child. you ascended the large staircase the lead to his bedroom. the hallways had tall, perfect walls that held photographs of the family. 

you couldn’t help but gasp when you saw sunghoon’s bedroom and the amount of space it held. the room exuded an air of affluence, the dimensions vast and adorned with subtle touches of opulence. the walls, painted in muted tones, cradled the room’s large windows that allowed the moonlight to cascade gently onto the plush furnishings. 

your eyes lingered on all the details– the elegant furniture, the soft glow of ambient lighting, and the artful arrangement of items that spoke of a meticulous sense of style. but you couldn’t help but realize that it didn’t seem like sunghoon at all, despite his name being on the awards showcased on the shelf in the corner. it was nothing like how you would imagine sunghoon to decorate a room. 

sunghoon settled you onto his bed, the plushness beneath you seemed to embrace you with a silent invitation to unwind. the linens, luxurious and inviting made you feel like you were in a hotel.sunghoon made sure the blanket was up to your chin, before he brushed a strand your hair behind your ear. he slowly started to back up, feeling as if he should go now that you were safe in his bed. 

but your hand grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him. 

“stay,” 

sunghoon and you layed side by side in his bed, your heads facing his high, posh ceiling. you could feel your hands being only centimeters apart at your sides, but neither one of you made an effort to connect them. an almost shy feeling taking over both of you as you layed in his bed. both of you could tell that the other was still awake. 

“how’re you feeling?” 

“better. less drunk.” 

“i’m sorry karina tricked you into drinking more, if i knew–,” 

“it’s fine, i should’ve been paying more attention.” 

a beat of silence took over his room once again. 

“thanks for taking care of me, hoon.” 

you hear sunghoon gulp beside you. neither one of you moving to look at eachother as you speak. you tell yourself to take a breath before you force yourself to move your hand to intertwined your fingers with his. instantaneously, both of your heads turned to face each other. 

now, you could see just how handsome sunghoon looked. his hair was messy against his pillow. his cheeks flushed a colour of red from the alcohol he had drank earlier. his pale skin was gleaming in the moonlight that the large windows let in. you could smell his laundry detergent so clearly that it was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol you had drank. 

without thinking, probably thanks to alcohol, you pressed a kiss into sunghoon’s temple as he did yours the night before. it was all you could think about. his plush, pink, lips against your skin. you wanted more. you couldn’t stop staring at his lips all day today, and you’re sure he could tell. 

pulling away from his temple, you stay only centimeters away from his face. looking down at him to take in his reaction. his eyes were serious as they bore into yours, unlike the playful look he had given you last night after he had kissed your own temple. 

just as you decide to shy away and regret your action, sunghoon is pressing his lips against yours. his eyes are closed and his pursed lips press onto your shocked ones. 

before you can kiss back, he’s pulling away from you, head laying on his pillow again. you only take a second before you’re pressing your lips against his this time. 

the kiss is passionate and longing. both of you have been wanting this and both of you know it. you found yourself so utterly, and completely drawn to sunghoon as you mesh your lips together. this simple kiss encapsulated so many emotions; exploring a new desired connection, the vulnerability woven into the fabric of the oment. it was a subtle revelation of emotions that surpassed the need for explicit articulation. 

as you parted, the unspoken understanding lingered in the air. the roomnow charged with the afterglow of your shared kiss. 

you didn’t break eyecontact and kept your faces only mere inches apart. sunghoon could physically see the need boiling up in your eyes as you continued to stare at him. he could feel his own stomach start to coil with the thought of having you. finally fulfilling the thought he’d been pushing to the back of his mind for weeks. 

“stop looking at me like that.” 

“like what?” 

you didn’t recognize your voice when you questioned him. your voice usually calm and low had turned into a higher mewl. 

“like,” sunghoon scoffed, “you wanna go further.” 

“i do.” 

“but you’re drunk.” 

“so are you.” 

sunghoon could feel his attempt at descalating the conversation fading with each quick answer you gave him. 

“please hoon, i like it when you take care of me.” 

with that, sunghoon forgot every apprehension as he slammed his lips against yours again. this time the kiss was more feverish, the passion soaring through both of you as you kept up the fast pace of the kiss. his hand comes up to grab your face, keeping it still as he makes out with you. you don’t fight for dominance as you let his tongue enter your mouth. as you swirl your tongues together, exploring each other’s mouths for the first time, you let your hand run down his shirt covered chest, stopping at the waist band of his pants. 

sunghoon suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you ontop of him. your knees are on other side of his hips. your hair dangling down as you have to look down at him. sunghoon places his hand around your neck, squeezing gentle to make you gasp out before he trails his hand down slowly, all the way from your neck, your chest, stopping at the bottom hem of your shirt. his warm thumb rubs slow circles on the exposed skin of your stomach, making you shiver. 

“you’re gonna let me take care of you like a good girl?” sunghoon’s voice is deep as he asks you, his brown eyes staring right into yours through his blank bangs that have fallen over them. he looked so good underneath you. 

you nodded, your eyes innocent with your answer. sunghoon’s hand landed on your neck, squeezing again. his eyes tense when he speaks again, “use your words princess.” 

“y-yes, i’ll be a good girl for you.” 

“good girl for who?”

“for you, sir.” 

sunghoon’s grip on your neck loosened, liking the sound of your answer. 

“take your shirt off for sir.” 

you don’t hesitate, your hands grabbing the bottom of your shirt and raising it over your head, dropping it off onto his floor beside you. your bikini top is tight to your chest. you watch the way sunghoon’s licks his lips as his hands go behind your back, untying your bikini to let it drop right off of you. 

you don’t feel exposed or bare as sunghoon marvels at your chest. his eyes scanning from one breast to the other to your face and back again, 

“fuck, you’re so beautiful, princess,” sunghoon compliments you as he sits up, his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck, “wish you could see yourself how i see you.” you whine at his words, hating how he knows you so well. hating how he knows all your insecurities and how much he loved them. 

his fingers find your nipples, squeezing them gently, testing how well you respond to it. he’s pleased when you arch your back into his chest, wanting more. he pulls and tugs on them harder, loving how you start to squirm. when he presses kisses into your neck you throw your head to the side, letting him have as much room as he needs. his lips that you wanted to kiss so bad feel like heaven on your neck. 

sunghoon’s hands grip your waist, guiding you to move back and forth across his crotch. you whimper at the first feeling of the friction. your skirt has ridden up, so your bathing suit bottoms are on display as you rub your core against his cortch. you can feel how hard his cock is inside his pants. 

sunghoon keeps his mouth on your nipples as you start to pick up your pace grinding down onto him. you alternate switching your hips from going back and forth to circling around. 

“fuck you’re so good at that, baby. making sir feel so good.” 

sunghoon keeps your close to him by keeping his hand on your back. he’s almost possessive with your body, not wanting it to go anywhere, like it belongs to him. and for tonight, you’ll let him own your body. he’s making you feel so good, finding all your sweet spots on your neck and chest. 

“that’s right, rub back and forth over that hard cock.” 

you whine out his name, your head thrown back. sunghoon’s free hand covers your mouth, stopping you from being too loud. he mumbles a ‘be quiet’ into your skin as he sucks on it, leaving pink marks and saliva all over your neck, chest and tits. 

sunghoon starts to rub you back and forth over his cock, leaving you with no control over your own body. you’re gripping onto his shoulders as you let him do as he pleases, using your body to get both of you to feel good. 

“kiss me,” your simple demand is quiet in his room as you both grind against each other feverishly. 

sunghoon presses his swollen lips against yours. you feel how wet his mouth is, happily taking his spit and lips into your mouth. you’re already addicted to his taste. 

sunghoon could feel your nails grip into his shoulder harder, leaving marks but he didn’t care. he could tell that you were close to your climax. he started to grind his hips upwards against yours. shoving his hand over your mouth to muffle your moan. 

“you gonna cum, princess? gonna show sir how well he takes care of you?” 

“yes, sir, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” 

sunghoon doesn’t stop, wanting to see you cum so bad. he’s thought about it for weeks. thought about how you would sound, look and taste. he watches as you struggle to keep your eyes open. your mouth wide open as your hips don’t stop grinding down. the friction becoming too much for your little clit as he drags your hips against his. 

“cum for me princess, that’s right, that’s right.” 

with his encouragement you throw your headback one last time, his hand covering your mouth roughly to quiet you. your body starts to shake on top of his as your orgasm washes over you. your clit spasming from the friction of your bathing suit and his jeans. your arms go weak and your chest collapses onto his. 

“fuck, sir.” you whimper out, your body still on adrenaline as your orgasm fades. 

“that was so good, baby. did so well for me.” sunghoon praises you. he presses soft kisses into your neck, different from how rough and harsh he was kissing and sucking only minutes ago. 

you look down ands ee the wet mess you had left on his jeans, almost embarrassed until sunghoon groaned at the sight. 

“nade such a mess on sir, baby.” you notice his hard bulge still in his pants, your eyes innocent as you look back to his. his eyes are soft as he watches you, his hands gentle as they push your hair out of your face. 

“you didn’t cum yet sir?” 

sunghoon shrugs, “don’t need to, watching you was enough.” 

“wanna see you cum, though.” 

before sunghoon can disagree more, you’re pulling his cock out of his pants. it’s red and hard. the veins are protruding as his cock is so stimulated from the friction of your hips from before. 

“spit on it.” 

you do as sunghoon demands. letting a long string of saliva meet his tip from your mouth. he groans out your name as he feel sthe warm liquid meet his hard cock. 

he takes his cock from your grip, starting to jerk his own cock up and down, staring right at your worn out face, saliva coerd chst and hard nipples that he had sucked and bit on. 

“you wanna taste my cum, princess?” 

his words make your stomach coil again, feeling the pleasure, desire and need build up again as you watch sunghoon jerk himself off in front of you. his arm is almost lazy as he pulls on his cock with your saliva as a lubricant. his head is thrown back against the headboard as he watches you, scans your body. 

“yes, sir, please. ‘ve been thinking about your taste for weeks.” 

sunghoon smiles at your answer, loving the way you’re so honest with him all the time. his smile makes you weak at the knees so you’re grateful you’re still straddling his lap. 

“g, gonna cum in a sec, baby.” 

“do it sir, wanna watch you cum so bad.” 

with a few more tugs on his cock, sunghoon hit his orgasm. he threw his head back and let out deep groans that you knew you would never forget. youor eyes were switching from looking at his face to where his cock was. white strands of cum were dripping down his cock and in his hand. he kept moaning your name, making you close your thighs instinctiely to relieve some pressure that was building again. 

when sunghoon’s orgasm had started to fade, you didn’t hesitate to swoop your hand down to his cock, collecting the fallen liquid that you oh, so wanted to taste. sunghoon watched you lick it off your fingers, a deep gutteral groan coming from his chest at the sight. 

the taste is salty in your mouth and you keep your eyes entrained on sunghoon until it’s all gone. sunghoon reaches over and grabs a tissue to wipe his fingers off, and then he grabbing another tissue. he reaches over to you, dabbing the tissues around your mouth and swiping it around the wet parts on your neck. the whole time, your heart was beating so loudly there was no way he didn’t hear it. 

for tonight, sunghoon carefully slipped your out of your bathing suit bottoms and skirt, giving you one of his shirts and boxer shorts to wear instead. he tried to ignore the achey feeling in his heart when you were fully dressed, and climbed into bed beside you. you rested your head on his warm, bare chest. his arm was kept around you, keeping you close to him. you quickly fell asleep, a soft smile on your face that made sunghoon want to kiss it. but sunghoon stayed awake for hours, scared then when he woke up again, everything would be wrong. 

you easily find sunghoon at the beach, despite the large crowd of people among it. it was the hottest day of the summer, and the beach was packed. unlike everyone else sun tanning, playing volleyball, swimming or making sandcastles; sunghoon was under an umbrella, his head thrown down into a book. you walk over to where he was, paying attention not startle him. he turns you before you even open your mouth to speak, like he’s been waiting for you. 

“hey, wanna go to the rock?” 

the rock is more quiet than the rest of the beach. it’s just the two of you up there, watching everyone else living life on the beach and in the water. it gives you both space to think. neither of you have spoken about what happened a few nights ago. the morning after, you both just woke up and got back to your normal routine as if nothing had happened. but both of you knew and could that something did in fact. 

“ever been out of the country before?” 

you asked him partly because you knew he had with his affluent background, and because you were curious about other places. you had only ever stayed around the city you were born in. your roots were planted there and you knew you would never go farther than this town you were in now. vacations were a luxury not afforded to families like your own. 

“yeah, a lot of places,” sunghoon admitted, “but it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. it’s always about business, never about exploring or enjoying.” he was a traveler by circumstance rather than choice. he had seen the world through the lens of his father’s business ventures. 

“if you could live in any country, where would you go?” 

“i don’t know.” sunghoon sighed, “somewhere far away. somewhere untouched by my father’s business dealings. maybe like a quiet beach.” 

“with hot beach chicks?”

sunghoon scoffed, “yeah girls love a mysterious stranger– and i could be that guy.” 

your conversation dwindled, both of you thinking about different things as you watched the beach scene unfold beneath you. the sun seemed to get hotter and dried out your mouth quickly. 

“what about you, y/n? where would you go?” 

not knowing of any places besides from the stories your dad use to tell you he went before you were born, your mind stuck on the place your dad said he needed to go to again before he died. 

“istanbul.” 

on one weekend, sunghoon’s dad needed him to accompany him to a business dinner in the nearest city, leaving you home alone for the night. your dad had gone on a weekend fishing trip with his friends, and wouldnt be back until the next day. 

the only light on in the house was the tv playing behind you. some sitcom that you were paying no attention to. you sat on a chair looking out the window. you watched as the trees blew in the dark sky, the moon raining down on them. you rested your head against the cold window, cooling down your body. 

this was the first night in a month that you had been alone. you’d spend your afternoons on the rock until it was pitch black out. and then usually sunghoon would talk to you from your balcony as you drifted off to sleep in your bed. 

you didn’t realize how much you hate being alone until now. maybe that’s why you didn’t want to come here this summer, because then you’d be away from your friends who would always keep you company. you don’t understand why you can’t be alone. you think maybe it’s because then you have to face all the thoughts you ignore and push away. you don’t have time to think about your problems when you’re with other people. 

that’s why you like hanging out with sunghoon. your brain completely shuts off when you’re with him. you’re so comfortable with him and know that he doesn’t expect anything from you. you don’t know how you’re going to go back to your hometown, away from him. where you’ll have to deal with everything, every problem, again. 

you didn’t realize you were crying until a tear lands on your lap. the t shirt sunghoon had let you borrow had risen up, letting yur thighs be the victim of your tears. you knew that you and sunghoon would have to separate soon, there were only a few weeks left until you had to go back home and sunghoon would have to go back to his fancy private school for the year. the town that holds both of your memories would be empty without both of you in it. 

despite the harsh contrast of your backgrounds, you and sunghoon were woven with each other. stitched together with vulnerabilities neither of you had shared with anyone else. you didn’t want to share it with anyone else except for park sunghoon. 

“y/n?” 

your body stops it’s shaking at the sound of his voice. and you were sure you’ve started to lose it. 

“y/n?” he says your name again, this time with a louder knock the wooden front door. 

quickly you get up from your place on the kitchen chair, making your way to the door. through the kaleidoscope window you see him. he’s standing there in a suit, but his white shirt is unbuttoned and his tie is wrapped loosely over his neck. when he sees you he tells you to open the door. 

when you do, he steps in, his body engulffing your own. he’s mumbling something about how he hates his father and how he had to walk all the way here and how he never wanted to go back home. when he pulls away he stops, 

“have you been crying, princess?” 

“no,” you wipe your cheeks quickly, “but you’ve been drinking.” 

“yeah, and i’m fuckin’ wasted.” 

you brought him up to your bedroom, where he sprawled across your small mattress. his pants and jacket are lost somewhere on your bedroom floor as he lays in his boxers and unbuttoned shirt. the edges of the mattress fail to contain his long legs, giving him an air of maturity beyond his years. 

from your vantage point on the floor, you observed him. almost a familiar ritual that you’ve always done. in your dimly lit bedroom, he appears almost perfect, submerged in darkness, almost authentically himself if he weren’t so drunk. you had never seen him so toxicated before, but it kept a small smile on your face as you watched him. 

“you look so pretty right now, y/n.”

“just right now?” 

“no, all the time. of course, all the time.” 

as he closes his eyes with a sloppy smile on his face, you imagine what it would be like to live with him everyday, to see more nights like this of him coming home drunk to bed, telling you how pretty you are. you know the parts that you imagine are just fantasies that would never come true, but you let yourself imagine them as memories that have already happened between the two of you. 

“got anything else to drink, princess? like some whiskey or somethin’?” 

“um,” you pretend to hum in thought, “i think i should just get you some water for now.” you start to rise from your position, balancing on your knees on the floor. your chin rested on the mattress, next to his veiny forearm. 

proximity has always defined your relationship in affectionate gestures. but, in that moment, as you exist so closely to each other, it transcends the familiar. it feels as if they are convering into one in this small room. like two individuals are finally completing into one person. 

“i’m just gonna go get water.” 

sunghoon’s hand reaches out to grab your wrist gently, “don’t go, y/n. the world is awful when you’re not here.” he confesses, his words lingering in the room, merging with the slow rhythm of his breaking, a cadence that aligns with the soft rain that has started outside. 

on the night that the town held their annual carnival, you and sunghoon chose to avoid it. you wouldn’t be joining it’s neon lights, laughter and kaleidoscope of colours. instead, you found yourselves at the desolated beach, forgotten by everyone in light of the carnival. 

you found a spot where the sand meets the gentle lapping waves. your bodies are laying down adjacent to the ocean. the distant carnival music becomes a faint melody, drowned by sunghoon humming some song you can’t think the name of. your fingers idly trace patterns in the sand as sunghoon gazes up at the stars. the scent of salt permeates teh air, mingling with the aroma of cotton candy you and sunghoon had previously shared. 

“what’s on your mind?” 

you scoff at his question, but still answer him, now you’ve become use to him knowing when you’re lost in a constant thought, “just, summer’s almost over, and then i’ll have to go back home and to school.”

“i’m sure going back to your home won’t be as bad as going back to my private school.” 

you don’t care that sunghoon watched you roll your eyes at his answer. because both of you knew that you would rather go to a rich private school than your awful public school. 

“but still,” sunghoon admitted, “i’m glad we had this summer.” the vulnerability in his words weaving a thread in your heart of affection for him. 

your eyes met each other’s, exchanging a look of understanding as the weight of reality pressed upon you. unspoken fears of the looming distance and unfulfilled promises in the future. sunghoon can see the gratitude and longing mixing in your eyes as they reflect his. 

sunghoon entangles his hand in yours, stopping you from tracing your usual shapes in the sand. his hand is cold compared to the summer temperature around you, but you don’t mind, you welcome it. his hand is large compared to yours as he drags his thumb over yours. you keep your eyes on eachother, full of longing and inevitable sadness. 

“come here.” 

you do as he says, rolling over in the sand so you’re half laying on his chest, your faces close together as your legs entangle so naturally, as if you’ve done this everyday for years. you think you use to shy away from not only sunghoon’s, but everyone’s physical affection. but with sunghoon’s, you gladly accept it before you can even think about it. 

like you don’t even think about it before you’re meeting sunghoon’s plush lips in a tender kiss. it was a promise sealed in the taste of salt and cotton candy on your lips, an unspoken pact to carry the warmth of the summer through the chill of the coming weeks. the ocean, a silent witness, cradled your fleeting connection– a memory etched in the sand. 

you keep making out gently. different from the last time when you were drunk and in his bed. it’s softer, like you’re scared the other is going to break. his hands are wrapped around your waist, keeping you tucked into his side. it feels so safe and natural to be with him like this that it almost scares you. 

you swing your leg up and over sunghoon’s hips, straddling him now. his hands stay on your waist as he looks up at you, the sand cushioning his head. again, without a thought, you slide his shirt off of your body. you hear him curse under his breath as your bikini top chest comes into view. neither of you really mind your hips grinding down onto his crotch. 

“should we go somewhere private, princess?” 

you shake your head no, “want you here, right now. you know there’s no one around.” 

sunghoon lets a deep grumble out from within his chest. one of his hands coming up to your head, pushing it down to meet his own, your lips meeting more intensely this time. the sounds of your lips smacking intrude on the sounds of the ocean behind you. 

your hands start to untie his bathing suit bottoms, he moves his hips upwards to help you slide them down his thighs. his semi-hard dick is in your view then. 

“spit on it, baby, like a good girl.” 

you let a drool of your saliva drop down onto his member, and then your hand meets it. it slowly starts to pump his cock up and down. sunghoon doesn’t take his eyes off of where your hand meets him. he lets out mumbles of praise as you continue. neither of you worry about being too loud as the sound of the waves and faint carnival music drown anything out from your corner in the beach. 

he tells you to keep going, making you speed up your movements of your hand. when his cock was fully hard he decided then that he quickly needed to be inside of you. 

“want you to ride my cock, princess.” 

“yes, sir.” 

you start to move to unbutton your shorts. sunghoon helps you slide them off with your bathing suit bottoms. when you straddle him again, both of you moan at the feeling of your wet pussy against his cock. you grab his cock, rubbing it through your wet folds. 

“no teasing, baby.” sunghoon grunts through his gritted teeth. you didn’t know that you could have this big of an effect on him. 

he helps you slide his cock inside of you. you sink down slowly on it, feeling every inch and vein of it. sunghoon’s other hand remains on your waist, squeezing tightly as the pleasure takes over him as well. when he’s hit as far as he could fit, he stops. he lets you adjust to his size as you swear to him under your breath that he’s the biggest you’ve ever felt. 

“yeah? i fill you up so good already, y/n?” he has a teasing smile on his face that you half want to punch and half want to kiss. but, you do the latter and press your lips onto his once more. the kiss is soft and innocent compared to how lewd the action was between your legs. 

you let out moans of his name mixed with curses, that let him know you were feeling just as good as he was. his hands stayed on your waist, helping you move up and down on his cock. 

“you’re so wet, fuck.” 

he licked and bite his lips, grunting as you slammed your ass down onto him. you could faintly hear the sound your wet core was making everytime your bodies collided. you planted your palms onto his bare chest, keeping yourself steady for your harsh and fast movements. 

sunghoon let his hand trail up from your waist to your tits, grasping them in his hand, tweaking your nipple through the bathing suit top. he smirked at your response, finding it amusing how sensitive your tits were. his hand moved to your throat, squeezing it with just the right amount of pleasure. you cry out how name at his gesture. your own hand snaking down to play with your clit, rubbing it in fast circles as you don’t stop bouncing down on his dick. 

sunghoon is in pure heaven at the state of you. you look so desperate as you slam your ass against his thights. your eyebrows are pushed together and your mouth is wide open. his hand keeps still on your throat, loving how it makes you move slopppier. your walls started to clench more around his cock; your name slips out of his mouth so beautifully. 

“you gonna cum, princess? gonna cum all over sir’s cock?” 

you let out a mumble that sounds similar to ‘yeah’ as you continue to reach the edge with his cock shoved deep inside of you. your body shook ontop of his as you came. your thighs clenching around his hips as you threw your head back into the night sky. 

sunghoon’s eyes became sharp set at the feeling of your silk walls pulsating. he started to force his cock up into your wet pussy at a speed you could barely comprehend. his hands were tight on your waist as he forced his hips up and down. 

sunghoon’s jaw was clenched as he focused on reaching his own high. his hard cock practically ripped you open. your cries started to become louder from being overstimulated from the pleasure. sunghoon could only focus on you and your pussy and how good you were making him feel. 

“fuck me sir just like that! so good! please!” 

your begging pushes sunghoon over the edge, your walls and cries too much for him. he releases his warm cum into you with a final, push into your pussy. you moan out his name as you feel him cum inside of you. his fingers stay tight onto your waist, for sure leaving nail marks from how tight he’s gripping your skin. 

your body collapsing onto his. both of your breaths mixing with the sand as you try to catch your breaths. both of you listen to the ocean and your uneven breaths as you relax from the sex. you feel his fingers trace shape on your bare back as he keeps his cock deep inside of you. 

neither of you bother to try to move for a while, finding comfort in each others presence– loving the way you felt so close to each other with his cock still inside of you. even when it’s gone completely soft, you both stay there, holding each other, trying to stop the minutes from ticking.

for the rest of the summer, the days melted into the nights and the summer sun continued to beam down on both of your skins. you and sunghoon became even more inseparable and irresistible of each other. each moment was something you wish you could remember vividly for the rest of your life. 

you spent more time exploring each other’s bodies. both of you liked the risk and adrenaline that came with almost getting caught. which lead to more sex on the beach. sunghoon sneaking through your balcony at night to make you cum. giving him blowjobs on the beach under the umbrella. following him up to his bedroom at night, avoiding the eyes of his parents and house workers. 

the nights were always alive when you swam against the waves. the silver glow of the moon, you and sunghoon would slip into the ocean, taking in the cool embraces of the waster as you revealed in the serenity of the night. sometimes, you’d find yourselves huddled around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows until they were golden brown. the sweet scent of toasted marshmallows lingered in the air and on your tongues. 

other nights, you’d find yourselves lazing around your bedroom, your head in sunghoon’s lap as he read richard brautigan to you. his voice weaving through the air like poetry. the words painted vivid images in your mind. every so often, you’d be following sunghoon around his mansion, a grant labyrinth of corridors and hidden rooms. each corner would reveal a piece of his world. with more exploration, the vast mansion turned more into a cozy home. 

the more fun you had with sunghoon, the more the bittersweet reality set in. responsibilities loomed in the horizon, promising to pull you both in different directions. the summer became a haven that you wished could be eternal. 

the night before you had to separate, your bedroom lay hushed in the muted glow of your bedside lamp, casting gentle shadows on the walls. the air was thich with the unspoken weight of impending farewells as you and sunghoon shared a quiet moment. a silent acknowledgement of teh fleeting hours left before needing to part ways for an unknown amount of time. 

laying side by side in the dimly lit room, the creak of the mattress beneath you was a subtle reminder of the transient nature of your togetherness. the soft hum of an old melody played from a distant radio outside your open window, filling the gaps between words with a melancholic undertone. 

sunghoon’s fingers danced idly through a strand of your hair, his touch feather light yet laden with a somber tenderness. the strands twirled and looped around his fingers like a silent dance. he tried to take in all the details of your hair, so he could remember every detail about you. 

as you traced abstract patterns on the ceiling, listening to the sound of sunghoon’s heartbeat, the atmosphere seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unshed tears. the scent of summer lingered, encapsulating the essence of your days spent together. 

the night outside remained still, save for the distant murmur of waves and occasional rustle of leaves. in the quiet room, it held the weight of goodbyes and resonance of shared laughter and whispered confessions. words that you knew neither of you would be able to speak to another soul.

the summer cast long shadows across the driveway as sunghoon stood at the end, a silhouette etched against teh golden hues of the warm evening. the atmosphere was saturated with unspoken emotions, heavy witht eh weight of impending goodbyes. you stepped off of the porch, the worn wooden planks feeling cool beneath your bare feet. 

sunghoon’s gaze met yours, a silent exchange that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. the air seemed to hum with the poignant awareness of an ending, and the usual busy neighbourhood hushed as if it, too, understood the gravity of the moment. 

the lowering sun cast long shadows across sunghoon’s handsome face, acentuating the contours of his features. his eyes held a mix of reluctance and acceptance, mirroring the conflicted emotions swirling within you both. the echo of shared laughter and whispered secrets lingered in the air, a symphony of memories that played softly in the background. 

you met him at the end of the driveway, your mother’s idle car waiting for you just meters away. 

“i’m going to miss you,” sunghoon practically whispered, his voice carrying the weight of too many emotions for either of you to handle. 

“i’ll miss you, too.” 

the town held its brath as your lips met in a tender, bittersweet kiss– a farewell painted with the colorus of sunset and promise of a tomorrow that belonged to different worlds. neither of you knew when the next time you would feel the others lips on your own. the kiss was as slow as possible, as if time stopped when you were connected. 

breaking away, your eyes locked onto his brown ones that you’ve had weeks to memorize for eternity. a lump formed in your throat as you struggled to find words that could encapsulate the depth of your feelings in that very moment. 

sunghoon speaks for you, “i’ll never forget you.” his fingers trace your jaw, feeling your soft skin he’s kissed a hundred times, for the last time. “or how overly idealistic you are.” 

“shut up.” 

the small amount of humour you both embrace hurts more than it should. both of your souls reluctantly embracing the inevitability of your separation. 

you start to backup towards your car, where your mom waits to leave for home, your fingers slowly loosing grip of sunghoon’s as the distance between your bodies increases. 

you only lose sight of him while you get into the car, telling your mother that you’re ready, even though you’re not. the engine hummed to life, the vibrations beneath the chassis resonating with the subdued rhythm of your heart. as the car began to pull away, your turned to face the back window. the neighbourhood unfolded in reverse, a mosaic of houses, trees and streetlights that once felt so comforting. 

through the glass, sunghoon stood on the gravel dirt road, a silhouette painted against the backdrop of fading daylight. his hand lifted in a half hearted wave, a mirror image of your own farewell. matching tear streaks adorned both your faces, glistening traces of emotions left unspoken in the twilight air. the sunset light covered his face in the most beautiful, devastating way. 

as the distance between you and him widened, the world outside blurred into a montage of colours and shapes. the weight of the unknown future hung in the air, a quiet ache taht nestled in the hollows of your chest. the car carried you further away, navigating the streets you once hated. 

you stole one last glance at sunghoon who was joined by your dad at the end of the driveway. both of them having sad smiles on their faces as they watched your car disappear into the distance. 

the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a final burst of golden streaks across the evening sky– an ending to summer. as the car turned a corner, your gaze remained fixed on the fading landscape, the remnants of a summer love etched in the recesses of your memories. each passing scenery of a familiar landmark was a reminder of moments shared with sunghoon. the quiet far corners of the town held the resonance of laughter, clandestine meetings and the stubble brush of fingertips that danced in the delicate way you would always remember. 

the ache in your chest matched the quiet tears that streamed down your cheeks, glistening in the soft glow of the streetlights. in the solitude of the car, you allowed yourself the vulnerability of grief, mourning the passage of summer and love that felt like a fleeting dream. 

you longed for the ability to rewind time, to relive the summer with sunghoon over and over again. the desire hung in the air, palpable and unspoken as the car glided toward the destination where the echoes of laughter had once been a symphony, now reduced to the gentle cadence of your own tears. 

the outside, familiar world had become a blur, and the quiet of the night seemed to mirror the hollowness you felt within. the knowledge that you might never see the silhouette of park sunghoon against the backdrop of summer’s fading hues was a devastating ache, a void that lingered in the spaces between breaths. the gravity of the impending absence seeped through your veins, leaving behind the remnants of a season that had slipped away, leaving you with nothing but the echoes of goodbye and memories that you hoped you could remember forever. 

the days that followed morphed into long, awful monotony. your once-familiar routine, once a source of comfort, now felt like an oppressive weight. each step echoing the absence left in the wake of summers ephemeral bliss. 

you and sunghoon had texted for as long as you could, before he had to hand in his phone at private school because of the strict rule that everyone hated : no phones allowed. how you ached to hear his voice once more. 

you continuously looked at pictures you had taken on your phone through the summer. tears streaming down your face as you looked at the digital face of park sunghoon– the face that you had kissed and touched and admired so many times just weeks before. 

the pictures became a tormentous reminder, and the once cherished routine back at home now felt like a cage, every corner haunted by the echoes of park sunghoon’s absence.  

weeks continued to pass since you had to say goodbye to sunghoon, and each day in your hometown felt slower and slower. your school that you once loved, felt like hell. the faces around you that were once your closest friends, blurred into a sea of strangers, and the classrooms became chambers of detached voices you couldn’t bare to listen to. your thoughts kept drifting back to sunghoon, the only person who seemed to every understand you. his absence cast a shadow over you that nothing seemed to fill. 

in the hallways, you found yourself thinking you had caught glimpses of sunghoon. his familiar silhouette passing at the end of the hall, only for there to be no one once you reached the end of it– or it was someone else who was very confused at your actions. every time, your heart raced, hope and anticipation intertwined– only to be shattered once reality settled in. sunghoon was miles away, across the country in a school you could never afford. 

at home, you found yourself imagining his presence beside you. every night, while you sat in a warm bath, your wet hair sticking to your nude back like it did in the summer when you would go swimming, you imagined him sitting across from you. the tips of his black hair wet as it dripped down his face and stuck to his forehead. 

you imagined talking and laughing with him. it was a mixture of conversations you already had with him, and ones that you wanted to have with him. the mirage of him would laugh when you wanted him to. you could almost feel his skin on yours when you imagined he would reach across the distance between you in the bath and brush your wet hair out of your face. you could hear his voice calling you his princess, and how pretty you are. 

and everytime, you would come out of your imagination with tears streaming down your face. knowing that you would never be able to speak with sunghoon again. he would never actually be across from you in the bath like how you constantly imagined and wished. it hurt everytime. 

it seemed that everything you did reminded you of sunghoon. your favourite books, like anything by richard brautigan, reminded you of him. you could only hear the words written across the pages in sunghoon’s voice. the memories of him reading those exact words to you in your bedroom or on the beach flashed through your mind. you swore you could smell the ocean’s sea salt on the pages when you flipped through them. 

you ended up having to shove all of brautigan’s books under your bed so you couldn’t see them. 

the sunsets in your hometown were no match to the ones that would set in your father’s town. you couldn’t imagine the ugly colours of your hometown’s sunsets fading into sunghoon’s skin. 

sometimes, you cursed park sunghoon– for ruining your favourite books, favourite smells, favourite sunsets. 

your mother told you that with time the pain in your chest would fade– but how much time would be needed for you to forget every single beautiful detail of park sunghoon? 

the weeks rolled on as they must do. and gradually, the familiarity of your old routine began to reclaims its space in your life. the once pervasive memories of park sunghoon were now relegated to the corners of your mind. with a quiet acceptance, you found comfort in the routienst aht had defined your life before summer. 

in the company of your friends you had welcomed you back so easily, laughter echoed through familiar hangout spots. the school activities you took part in became a buffer against the persistent ache of longing. you enjoyed walking into all the classrooms with your friends as you focused more and more on your studies during your final year of high school. 

acceptance came not as resignation but as a gentle acknowledgement that there is more to life than that town and summer with park sunghoon. the mundane moments, once overshadowed, now stood as peaceful moments that you found happiness in. you discovered a semblance of normalcy, a balm for the heart yearning for the touch of a distant memory that would only stay as a memory. 

when winter break arrived, so did the crisp chill in the air that you had seemed to have forgotten. 

on christmas, you called your father. 

you picked your nails as you gave in to the compelling inquiry of the park mansion. your dad’s response was delivered with a heavy sigh. as he stood by the window, his phone against his shoulder and ear, he gazed toward the distant hill where the mansion nestled. there was only a scattering of lights flickered in the windows– only the wait staff resided there now. 

“the town’s different now,” your father muttered, his eyes fixated on the silent mansion. “people are huddled up in their homes, or they’ve retreated to their own cities for the year.” his words painted a picture of a community cocooned in the winter’s embrace, a far cry from the lively canvas that had coloured your summer days. 

attempting to conjure the image your father described, you strained to envision the town shrouded in winter’s hush. streets once bustling with activity, now empty and serene. shops that echoed with laughter and music now adorned with boarded up windows. the once welcoming cool ocean water, was now empty and freezing. 

yet, despite your efforts, the mental image eluded you. the town you had known only as a summer haven resisted transformation in your mind. you could almost hear the distant echo of waves crashing against the shore and feel the warmth of the summer sun, rendering your attempts to superimpose a winter veil futile. 

you avoided your father’s questions about park sunghoon. 

spring unfolded its tender embrace, and with it came a cascade of changes that wove into the fabric of your life. as the days lengthed and the air became infused with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, you found yourself navigating a labyrinth of new worries, memories and responsibilities. 

graduating high school loomed on the horizon, a monumental milestone that carried the weight of farewells and unknown futures. the hallways now echoed with teh eancitipatory whispers of change. faces you had known since childhood broe expressions of both excitement and sadness, mirroing the kaleidoscope of emotions within you. 

with each passing day, the gravity of adulthood settled like a spring mist. responsibilities sprouted like delicate buds, demanding attention and nurturing. the carefree days of childhood were replaced by the dawning reality of independence. 

amidst the new chaos of growing up, memories of that fleeting summer lingered like the fragrance of blossoms that carried in through your open window. you had started packing your childhood bedroom into boxes for college, the smell of cardboard intoxicating.

the closer to college got to starting, the faster spring was ending and summer was beginning yet again. 

summer started with a cool breeze and a familiar conversation between your father and you. the invitation, as inevitable as the changing seasons, beckoned you back to the town where memories of sun-kissed days lingered in your mind. 

the journey back was like deja vu. the road unfurled before you as your mother drove you. a ribbon of asphalt winding through fields and quaint houses. the rhythm of the tires on the pavement was the exact same as the year before. but your emotions were different as you approached your father’s house. 

the scent of the town wrapped around you in a comforting embrace as the car stopped in front of your dad’s house you had grown to cherish. you didn’t hesitate running into the house, throwing yourself into your father’s arms, feeling like a child in them as he squeezed you tight. 

dinner that first evening back, carried an unspoken tension as you hesitated to broach the subject that had been gnawing at you all day. your dad, sensing your unease from across the table, cast a discerning glance your way before setting down his fork and signalling you to ask him whatever it was. 

“what’re the park’s up to?” 

the sigh that escaped your father’s lips held the weight of the room. 

he spoke of the parks, usually a steadfast presence by this time of year, but were absent from the familiar mansion that sat on the hill. 

you glanced  through the window, catching sight where the park mansion stood, a silhouette against the backdrop of the evening sky. the absence of lights within the mansion mirrored the void left by the infamous parks. your heart skipped a beat at the disappointment that settled within you. 

you spent the week trying to find the familiar silhouette of park sunghoon. the cafe where tendrils of his cigarette smoke lingered, was only vacant, devoid of his casual presence and the acrid scent of tobacco you had learned to tolerate.  the quiet rustle of pages turning under an umbrella at the beach failed to mask the silence left by his absence. 

evenings, once painted with the warm hues of sunset witnessed from your shared perch on the rock, now felt incomplete. the horizon, bereft of his mysterious gaze, seemed to echo the hollowness that reverberated within you. the eaves, crashing against shore were reminding you of the tears you had shed for him. 

seated on the familiar rock, where laughter and secrets were once shared with the sea, you felt the weight of his absence you once never knew you needed. the contours of the rock, etched with the memories of shared sunsets, cradled you with comfort you knew only park sunghoon could give you. 

in the quietude, with only a handful of people still playing in the water below you, you yearned for teh silhouette that had seamlessly woven itself into your summer memories. the absence of sunghoon cast a somber hue onto the familiar landscapes that had once been so comforting and alive. now, seated alone on the rock, you became an inadvertent observer by yourself. a lone tear fell down your sunburnt cheek. 

you thought of all the memories you had with sunghoon, and how they unfolded like a series of bittersweet snapshots. there was an anger and frustration bubbling up within you. a visceral response to the stark absence of his once-constant presence. yet, you found yourself unwilling to relinquish in those moments. 

the touch of his pale skin against yours lingered in your thoughts like the imprint of the summer sun on your skin. it was a sensation that spoke of lazy afternoons spent together, where time stretched and contored into your favour. anger brewed at the realization that such moments had become a repository of longing, each memory a testament to the void he had left. 

despite the storm within, you marveled at the resilience of of the feeling his lips had left on your own. within stolen kisses or passionate ones that never seemed to end. anger and frustration gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, teh desire for one more stolen kiss persisted, a silent plea that you knew he would never hear. 

you soon realized your cheeks were as wet as the times you had gone swimming in the ocean with sunghoon, or imagined him talking with you in the bath. tears were streaming down your face at the lost memories with park sunghoon that you would never get to relive. 

you put your head in your arms, cradling your mind as it physically poured its sadness onto your skin. 

“y/n? i knew you’d be up here.” 

a voice so achingly familiar sent shivers down your spine. 

the words hung in the air, resonating with a surreal quality that danced in disbelief. turning slowly, as if caught between reality and reverie, you met the gaze of the person standing behind you. 

“sunghoon? is it really you?” the question trembled on her tongue, you half expected him to vanish into the ether like the other mirages you had seen of him. 

“well yeah, how many other hearthrobs are in this town?” 

you thought he ought to be another twisted figment of your imagination– but he stood before you with an undeniable solidity. 

“say my name again,” 

a desparete plea to ground yourself atop the rock that was so high. 

“y/n.” 

the syllables rolled off his tongue, and with each utterance, the knot of uncertainty in your chest loosened. yet, his eye straced the tear-streaked canvas of your face, concern etched across his features, he asked, “what’s wrong?” 

within just a moment, the vulnerability of your emotions overcame the barriers that were once so high. rising from your rocky spot, you ran toward him, a blur of motion against the backdrop of the sun’s dying embers. in his arms, you found the familiar safety you had ached for for so long. the warmth of his embrace eclipsing the silent ache of separation. the sunset bore witness to a reunion, a collision of two souls that belonged together. 

as the final embers of the sunset retreated beyond the horizon, you and sunghoon lingered on the weathered rock, their bodies entwined in a shared desperation to erase the lingering echoes of separation. the world around them, now cloaked in the soft hues of twiling, seemed to fade into insignificance compared to the gravitational pull of their intertwined existence. 

“i missed you,” sunghoon’s tender admission hung in the air. 

“missed you, too.” 

as you gazed at sunghoon, his features etched in the soft twiling, you drank in the details like a parched wanderer, sumbling upon an oasis. his eyes, a familiar tapestry of brown, spoke volumes that only you could relate to. a subtle play of light and shadow danced across teh contours of his face, creating an ethereal portrait that she committed to memory as if this moment was too precious to last. 

the disbelief lingered, a nagging whisper that quesitonned and ruined the reality of this reunion. as if unable to fully comprehend taht he was here, tangible and real. you traced teh outline of his features with your finger, fearing that he might vanish like many of your dreams before. 

“i got caught up with family stuff and graduation, you know how they like lavish, grand events that never end,” sunghoon confessed, his words fixing the anger and frustration that had been boiling up in your chest for months. “i thought about you every day and prayed you wouldn’t forget about me.” 

“i could never forget you.”

in the pregnant pause that followed as sunghoon took a breath, “ i want to take you to istanbul, as soon and as long as possible.” 

you didn’t hesitate to say yes. a pact so easily forged between a kiss. 

the prospect of more sunsets with park sunghoon in a city you had only dreamed of filled your future with excitement and adventure as you felt the gap between you and sunghoon melt into the rock underneath you. 

the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze seemed to echo the murmurs of your hearts, both carrying a weight that sought release. 

“i love you,” the words hung in the air as you spoke it back and forth to each other until your cheeks both hurt from smiling. 

your eyes, reflective pools that mirrored the emotions swirling within, didn’t leave sunghoon’s gaze. his hand found its place in your own, your fingers intertwining between your bodies. 

as you layed together on the familiar rock, overlooking the town that had witnessed teh intricacies of your journey, a sense of completion settled over them. the warm season had been a net that carried all over your quiet revelations and discovery of love that neither of you had searched for. 

the echoes of richard brautigan’s words and the smell of sea salt in the air, a reminder that in the ordinary moments, profound happiness could be discovered. 

and so, with the setting sun casting a final golden glow, they embraced the conclusion of a chapter that had unfolded with the grace of a young, summer love. in the quiet symphony of the evening, sunghoon and y/n had not just found an end, but a beginning– a promise to find more sunsets and love together. hand in hand, the story of their summer love whispered its conclusion to the tranquil waves of the ocean, leaving behind a lingering feeling of each others lips, shared sunsetz and the acceptance that maybe being too idealistic was okay. 

the end. 

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

#smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #fanfic #hard hours #enhypen hard hours #series #pwp

[7s3ven]

DRIVING LESSONS. luke (pjo)

Normal! Au

( master list )

IN WHICH… Luke attempts to teach Percy how to drive and, in the process, almost crashes into Luke’s long time crush. But maybe he can spin it in his favor.

—

Luke was like an older brother to many. He had warm and comforting aura that people seemed to gravitate towards.

“Don’t get hurt, seaweed brain.” Annabeth warned Percy, pointing a stern finger at him. Luke chuckled as he leaned against the hood of his shiny car. Percy needed driving lessons and Luke was more than happy to help. Though, he knew he was going to regret it. Annabeth and Sally were both too terrified to teach Percy but Luke was up for the challenge.

“Turn on your blinker, Percy.” Luke reminded the teenage boy for the fifth time.

“My what?” Percy only stared at Luke in utter confusion.

“Your turn signal. And keep your eyes in the road!” Luke exclaimed as another car whizzed past, narrowly avoiding crashing into them. Percy immediately glued his eyes back to the view in front of him, sheepishly smiling.

"Sorry." He whispered.

“Turn slowly here.” Luke instructed, nodding when Percy finally remembered to press his blinker. Percy turned painfully slow, matching the speed of a sloth, and Luke held back an annoyed groan.

“So, when did you start driving?” Percy asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luke shrug.

“I’m not sure. Around your age or a little older.” Luke was in his twenties now, already having secured a well-paying job which helped pay for half of Annabeth’s tuitions. The other half was paid by a scholarship she earned.

“Have you met any cute girls?”

Luke lightly snorted, grinning in amusement. “Why are you asking me that, Percy? You know I can see how you look at Annabeth. I should be asking you how it’s going with her.”

Percy and Annabeth had always been stuck between friends and lovers and it was driving Luke insane. He wanted to shove the two of them together and demand they admit their feelings.

“Okay, but have you met any cute girls?” Percy was persistent, which suited his given name. Luke scoffed, tilting his head back. He had but he didn’t want to admit it to Percy. How was he supposed to tell Percy that he was still in love with the same girl from high school?

He thought he was over his feelings but he saw her in a coffee shop one day and everything came flooding back. Their playful flirting, their late night rants as they lay in each other’s arms while listening to Luke’s playlist, and that kiss they shared in their last year. Annabeth was already calling Luke a loser for liking her again, he didn’t need Percy doing the same.

“I guess.” Luke finally answered. “I’m not really attached to any of them, though.” Because his mind was always on Y/N, his high school sweetheart.

“Are you gay?” Percy asked out of the blue, causing Luke to choke in surprise.

“Am I- No! I’m not gay, Percy! I like girls but I wouldn’t date any of the girls I meet!”

“Is it because you’re still obsessed with her?”

Luke knew who he was talking about. He clicked his tongue, giving Percy the indirect answer that he needed. Percy wasn’t so clueless after all.

In all Luke’s years of babysitting Annabeth and Percy, he had only brought one girl over, who happened to be Y/N. They were working on a school project but Annabeth still liked to tease him about the way he gazed at Y/N.

Percy made the mistake of tearing his eyes away from the road again. “Percy!” Luke shouted as soon as he spotted someone walking across the pedestrian crossing, “Eyes on the road!” Percy, in a panic, slammed his foot against the break. The car screeched to an abrupt halt and both boys were sent flying forward. If it weren't for their seat belts, they would've crashed through the windshield.

There was a soft knock on Luke’s window and he turned his head, mortified to see the very girl he was just thinking about. The brunette slowly rolled the window down, thickly gulping.

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him, resting her arms on the sill, “You know, people usually stop at the crossing. They don’t almost run someone over.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s his first time and he’s still pretty nervous.” Luke jabbed a thumb in Percy’s direction. The blond boy was sweating, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He sent Y/N an apologetic smile.

“Oh, Percy. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Y/N grinned at him, “You’ve grown up so fast. Last time I saw you, you were smashing into walls.” Percy’s cheeks heated up at the memory. “Glad to see you still have that habit. Though, instead of walls now, it seems you like to crash into people. You weren't thinking of committing a hit and run, right?"

“How have you been, Y/N?” Luke changed the subject to spare Percy from the embarrassment of Y/N’s teasing remarks. “You disappeared after high school. And the last time I saw you was in a cafe. I barely had time to ask.”

“I went to university in Europe.”

“And you got your law degree, I assume?”

“Conjoint, actually. I majored in law with a minor in psychology.”

Luke whistled, impressed. He barely passed university. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Well, I was taking a calming walk before I almost got killed.” She chuckled, an amused glimmer flashing in her eyes. Percy sank deeper into Luke’s leather car seat. “If you need help with teaching Percy to drive, I’d be happy to help. You look like you need it.” She fished out a card from her purse, handing it over to Luke. “I changed my number, by the way. That’s my personal one. Feel free to contact me, Luke.”

She bid the pair farewell and once she was out of earshot, Percy and Luke turned to face each other.

“Oh my gosh, she gave you her number!”

“Bro, I got her number!”

It was safe to say that Luke spent the rest of the terrifying car ride feeling elated despite being tossed around in the vehicle with Percy and almost throwing up once or twice.

Luke was dreading the next day with Percy because the young boy was not a good driver. At all. Not only had Percy narrowly avoided crashing into a pole and took off one of Luke’s mirrors in the process, but they also got chased by the cops for going over the speeding limit. Twice. And he couldn't forget how they almost killed Y/N.

Luke was thinking of ditching Percy but he was technically Annabeth’s boyfriend, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

His phone buzzed and his eyes darted to the screen for a split second. He looked back at the road, quickly stomping his foot onto the break. His heart sank for the second time this week. This was not how he wanted to meet Y/N again.

Y/N was teasingly grinning as she made her way over to his window. She knocked on it, bending down to match his height. “Hey, Luke.” She uttered, clicking her tongue. She playfully pursed her lips as she watched Luke sigh, his head resting against the wheel. “You and Percy seem to have one thing in common. Almost crashing into me.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “I didn’t mean to… I swear.” He uttered.

“It’s fine, Luke. As long as you don’t actually hit me. Because if you do, I will run you over too.” Y/N smiled, acting as if she didn’t just whisper a threat in Luke’s ear.

“I’m actually going to pick up Percy right now. Do you want to, uh, join me? I might throw up less with you around. Partly in fear of embarrassing myself.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N huffed in amusement.

“As long as I don’t land in hospital, I’m up for it.”

“No promises.”

Y/N climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her. She tilted her head to the side as she picked up a Lancôme lipstick. “I never took you as lipstick person, Luke.” She joked, holding up the tube.

“It’s Clarisse’s.” He said. Despite their differences, the two were quite close in high school. And they still were.

“You two dating already? Everybody shipped you two.” Y/N chuckled, turning her head to look at Luke.

“We’re just friends.” Luke said.

“Oh, come on. You must like a girl. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

You, Luke almost said.

“I’m not interested in any girls right now.” He said instead. Y/N quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you gay? Wait, I kissed you while you were gay?!” Y/N gasped while Luke wildly shook his head.

“Why does everyone think I’m gay?!” He exclaimed.

"You've never dated anyone, Luke. It makes people think things." Y/N chuckled as leaned back in her seat. "I remember when everybody thought you and Chris were an item. Your fangirls were devastated. It was hilarious."

"What about you?" Luke asked, "How did... you feel?" Y/N faltered. She slowly turned her head to look at Luke before shyly diverting her gaze.

"I was more preoccupied with laughing over the sad girls with my friends." She uttered, "But I had a feeling you weren't gay. Your fashion sense back then was a dead give away that you were straight."

Luke clicked his tongue, "Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"

Y/N silently shrugged, flashing him a small grin. "A bit of both, I think."

Silence eventually settled between the pair. The car engine quietly hummed and Y/N glanced out the window as the radio played a soft melody. She thickly gulped as Luke pulled into Percy's driveway, a little disappointed they'd no longer be alone.

"Y/N." Luke quickly turned to her as soon as he pulled the keys out of his car. She met his gaze, confused as she gestured for him to continue. She watched as Luke took a deep breath. "Do you remember when I asked you if you had a partner for prom?"

"Of course. I went with Jake."

"I know that. But do you remember when you told me about Jake and I looked a little sad?" Luke was usually straight-forward with his sentences but he couldn't find the right words in this moment. Y/N slightly tilted her head.

"Yeah... you looked crushed." She said in a joking tone, causing Luke to gently chuckle.

"I looked sad because... I wanted to ask you out. Because I liked you. And I didn't ask anyone else out or accept any other offers because you were the only person I wanted to go with. And when you kissed me in our senior year, I couldn't feel happier, even if it was only because you wanted to feel a teen romance. And when you left... I didn't leave my room for ages. Annabeth had to drag me out. I was scared that you would find another person and I didn't want you to leave me behind."

Y/N gazed at him in silence. Luke cleared his throat, nodding his face. "I shouldn't have said anything... sorry. All those things were ancient history. I don't even know why I brought it up."

"What about you?" Y/N breathed, "Is there anyone else in your life?"

Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. "No... To be honest, I still haven't moved on from you." He turned his head to face Y/N, taken aback when she pressed her lips against his.

"I didn't find anyone else, Luke. I wanted to come back from university and run into your arms again, like old times." Y/N uttered as she pulled away. Luke cracked an ecstatic grin, pulling her back.

"Are you guys seriously making out in front of my house?"

Y/N and Luke jumped apart at the sound of Percy's voice. The younger boy was staring at them through the tinted window, face wrinkled up in disgust.

"I'll, um, get in the backseat." Y/N said, smiling before she switched seats, allowing Luke to sit beside Percy. The brunette gave the boy a subtle glare.

"Can I turn on some music?" Percy asked as he drove down an empty road. Luke had switched off the radio to allow the blond to concentrate.

"Only for a little while. Keep your eyes on the road so you don't almost kill anybody else." Luke snapped. From the backseat, Y/N lightly laughed.

Percy pushed a button and with a quiet click, Olivia Rodrigo started playing. "Really, Luke? Your sad playlist?"

"It's the only other tape in my car."

"I got my driver's license last week"- Percy sang along but he was cut off by Luke's stern tone.

"Percy, you won't be getting your license for ages if you don't focus on the road." The brunette warned. Percy frowned, going silent for a few moments before he parted his lips again.

"He used to listen to this playlist in his car while it rained. He was probably thinking about you." Percy said to Y/N, looking at her through the mirror, "I think he even cried at some point. Annabeth and I saw him one night, just sitting in the car and banging his head against the wheel."

"Percy!" Luke hissed, trying to shush the boy. But the damage was already done as Y/N diverted her eyes to look at Luke.

"Really?" There was an amused edge to her voice.

"Stop the car." Luke demanded, glowering at Percy. The young blond nonchalantly pulled over and stopped the engine. "You're dead, Percy. I'm going to tell Annabeth how you still drool in your sleep." Luke pulled out his phone, causing Percy to panic.

"I told her I stopped!" Percy reached for Luke's device but the brunette quickly stepped out of the car. He held the phone up high, away from Percy's grasp. Y/N watched as Percy chased after Luke, desperate to hide his drooling problem from Annabeth.

Luke turned his head to scowl at Percy. "It's your payback for telling Y/N that!"

idea from @emiliehornby !!

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #annabeth chase #greek mythology #luke castellan pjo #grover underwood #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #pjo series #pjo show #percy jackson show #ares percy jackson #hermes pjo #olivia rodrigo #fluff #romance #percy jackon and the olympians #camp half blood #demigods #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #luke pjo

[mikanotes]

Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #x reader

[raspberriesoda]

and again. » ljn

genre | angst with fluffy ending, jeno x reader, college au

word count | 2.7k

summary | you hadn’t seen jeno since you had broken up, but a new year’s party brings you back together again, physically and emotionally

warnings | argument, small mention of past relationship issues and insecurity, light swearing, teeniest alcohol mention, flashback where jeno is a dick to reader, one female pet name (pretty girl) but i think its pretty gn aside from that

tonight marks roughly one year.

it’s been an entire twelve months since the big fight that had ultimately caused the downfall of one of the most fawned over relationships on campus. in one year, you’d surprisingly- impressively, even- managed to avoid talking to him or seeing him in person at all.

which really, was your biggest motive for desperately wanting to skip out on the party tonight. you knew jeno would be there, despite the numerous attempts by all of your friends of trying to convince you otherwise. but you knew that you couldn’t bail on everyone who hadn’t seen you since you arrived back from visiting home. not to mention, everyone was going to be there. it’s new years eve, and no one misses the new years party. so you just had to swallow your pride and attend.

the fact that it was the very same party that drove you apart the year prior, however, is another major reason you’d rather just stay home.

even as you sat in your best friend’s car, you weighed your options.

“do we really have to go?”

“are you really asking me that when we’re already half way there?” ningning asks, but its less of a question and more of a statement. “i can drop you off on the street if you really want me to,” she jabs.

you groan, your head falling against the headrest and your hands sliding down your face.

“who’s to say he’s even gonna be there anyway?” karina asks from the backseat.

“stop giving me hope, everyone is going to be there.” you sulk, crossing your arms and sinking down in the passenger seat.

“then what are the chances you'll even run into him? more people more distractions, right?” giselle consoles. she had a valid point, but even the slimmest chance made you want to rip your hair out.

ningning parallel parks her car on the side of the residential road, and the house party practically lights up the entire night sky. your girlfriends chatter excitedly as their heels clack on the sidewalk, all the while you’re hoping, praying that karina and giselle are right.

but as fate would have it, not even three footsteps in the door, you spot him. and unfortunately, your presence doesn’t go unnoticed either.

jeno is stood by the fireplace, deep in conversation, but sees you almost immediately upon your arrival, like the universe was on a timer, counting down to the exact second that your eyes would meet again, not a moment too soon or too late. his lips are parted like he stopped mid sentence, and you stand dumbfounded in the doorway, staring stupidly at him as people shove past you to enter.

renjun taps jeno’s shoulder from beside him, most likely trying to bring his attention back, but jeno’s eyes never leave yours, and you see him mouth your name in response to his confused friend, making your heart flip. renjun follows his eyes, adding to the unwanted attention that’s been placed on you. jeno then suddenly takes a few steps toward you, squeezing through the dense crowd, but before you think it through, you scurry off in the other direction.

“y/n, will you stop pouting about it already?”

you enter your apartment with jeno trailing behind you, your mood extremely sour as you open the door and let it slam against the wall.

“i’m not pouting, jeno. i’m upset, do you not get that?”

“you’re so dramatic,” jeno scoffs. he kicks off his shoes and drops his jacket over the back of your couch, so nonchalant about the whole situation that it makes you even angrier.

“she was all over you!” you cry out in desperation. you’ve repeated this what seemed like a hundred times already, but no matter what you said jeno wouldn’t even attempt to understand.

or maybe, he just didn't care.

“you couldn't even bother to just tell her to stop!”

jeno rolls his eyes. “i told you, y/n, i did tell her to stop. she wouldn’t listen.”

“then that's when you walk away, jeno. push her off of you, ignore her, anything! actions speak louder than words.” your arms flail wildly as you speak. “why do i even have to explain something like this to you? i’ve told you about what’s happened to me before and-“

he’s not even looking at you.

“are you listening?! do you even give a shit about how i feel right now?”

“not when you’re acting like this, y/n.” he drones, tapping away at his phone screen. “maybe if you’d just calm down and acted a little less crazy i’d be more inclined.”

all you feel is red. red from the sting of tears muddling your line of vision. red from the prick of your nails digging into your palms as they grip into fists at your sides. red for the old wound he’s just slashed open.

your voice is low and calm when you speak again.

“get the fuck out of here, jeno.”

only then does he decide to look at you.

“babe-” the smallest hint of guilt crosses his eyes, but he’s burned the bridge already. he reaches a hand out toward you, but you step back as if he’s venomous.

“get out!” you screech, not even caring that it rattles the walls. jeno flinches back. with a huff, he grabs his things and stomps out the door, slamming it behind him.

against all odds, everywhere you look, he’s there.

you see him when you’re seated by the tv watching a tipsy group of freshman struggle to get through a round of a dancing game; he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, laughing when they stumble.

and again, when you’re outside soaking in the fresh air; he’s got the attention of everyone lounging in the hot tub, telling them stories behind the constellations visible from the deck.

and again, when you’re reaching into the fridge for another drink; he’s pouring shots for swooning girls at the kitchen island.

always suspiciously close, yet just far enough away.

you initially thought it to be just an unfortunate coincidence, but the house was much too big and had too many other places to be. he’s attracting way too much attention to himself in such ways that it’s impossible for him not to be pining for yours in particular.

enough is enough. you decide that if jeno wants a show, you’ll give him a show.

the basement is the one place left in the house where you hadn’t seen him. its a cozy little space, with sports banners and posters of swimsuit clad models cluttering the walls, and along with the pair of couches there's a large pool table. you watch as your friend jaemin stands beside it, twirling his pool cue in his hands, laughing at something haechan had said. you swirl the liquid around in your red solo cup, an idea brewing in your mind.

right on time, you see jeno descend the staircase. you stand, walking over to jaemin.

“help me with something,” you whisper into his ear. he gives you a curious look, but when your eyes flick over to jeno, jaemin understands immediately and gives you a subtle nod.

it’s no secret to you- or to anyone, really- that jeno is watching you. you can feel his eyes on you, burning your skin as you grab the cue from jaemin’s hand and lean over the bright green table to shoot a striped ball into a pocket. jaemin gives you a charming smile, complimenting your technique. his bubblegum hair reminds you of the color jeno’s was before the breakup. it’s never bothered you before, but your heart involuntarily twists at the thought.

you hum, rounding the table to stand right beside your pink haired friend, scanning for the right ball to shoot in next. you lift your cue to point at the number ten ball, turning to jaemin, tilting your head.

“i don’t think i can get this one on my own, do you mind helping me out?” you ask smoothly, dragging your fingers up his arm. your friend picks up quickly, smirking down at your innocently pouty expression.

“sure thing, pretty,” jaemin hums with faux flirtation. he does a flawless job of dragging his hands along all of the parts your body that were jeno’s favorites, and you can almost feel his stare burn hotter. you not-so-subtly bite down a grin as jaemin leans over you, breathing heavily down your neck as he guides the cue through your arms, shooting the ball directly into a pocket.

after watching from the corner for a while, jeno begins to make his way towards you, telling you that he’s had enough of staying arms length away.

“you’re not subtle,” jeno says bluntly. its directed at you, but he’s glaring at jaemin.

you scowl, casually chalking up the tip of the cue you hold. “a bit narcissistic to think this is about you, don’t you think?” you hadn't expected those to be the first words you’d spoken to him in a year.

“do you mind?” jaemin interjects, his hand resting on your hip. “we’re in the middle of something.”

the tension in the room rises.

“well, whenever you’re finished,” jeno spits through his teeth. he shifts his eyes down toward you then, his gaze just a little bit softer. “i’d be really grateful if you’d meet me outside. i wanna talk to you, if you’ll let me.” and with that he’s gone.

after serious contemplation, you do decide meet him outside, despite a very sensible voice in your head telling you not to. as soon as you slide open the glass door and step out onto the grass, he’s leaning against the side of the house, closer to you than he’s been all night- all year. this close up view of him makes your heart flutter more than you’d ever be willing to admit in the moment. his hair is a shade of brown you’ve never seen on him, but his eyes glimmer just the same as they always have when he looks at you.

“long time no see, baby,” he greets you, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a small somber looking smile.

“that’s not my name.”

“it used to be,” he replies. you roll your eyes.

“what do you want, jeno?” it’s harder to say his name out loud than you thought it would be.

“i know you’ve been thinking about it, too,” he says softly, a very sharp contrast from the vibe he’s been presenting to other partygoers the entire night. the bass thumping upstairs is synched with your heartbeat. you still can’t bring yourself to look directly at him. “there’s no other reason you’d pull a stunt like that. jaemin is handsome, sure, but he’s not your type.” you fold your arms, slumping a bit. you hate that he’s right; that you haven’t changed enough during the time that’s passed and he can still read you like an open book.

“doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

jeno swallows, his head bowing forward to fix his eyes on his feet.

“i wanted to say i’m sorry.”

you turn to look at him then, your brows raised. “isn’t it a little late for that?”

“you blocked my number,” he says; you’d almost forgotten you had, in fact, blocked him on just about everything. “i couldn’t get a hold of you in person, either.

but i didn’t know what to say even if i could. there’s no excuse for what i said to you, and an ‘i’m sorry’ doesnt cut it.”

the look jeno is giving you is so genuine that its hard to breathe. all of a sudden your facade begins to crumble. “i can’t- i’m not doing this, not right now,” you tell him dolefully, turning around to slip back into the house, but he catches your elbow; his grip is soft, unthreatening, unmalicious.

“please, please just listen to me, i’m begging you.” when you turn around he’s on his knees, looking up at you with a pleading look on his face and your hand is clasped between both of his own. you despise how he looks so beautiful in the dim moonlight.

“jeno.” you blink your tears away. “don’t beg for me, please.”

he tugs lightly on your wrist, and reluctantly you sink down to kneel in front of him on the grass.

“i haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a year. every time i dream, its about you. believe me y/n i've tried so hard to let it go but the things i said to you still haunt me.”

his eyes flicker across yours, glistening with tears of his own, searching for something he can grab onto. the floodgates holding your emotions in begin to crack at a rate that’s too quick for you to keep up with. “you, you knew how i felt, about things like that,” your voice stutters, your lip quivers. “you knew, and, and you still-“ you choke on a sob.

“i know. y/n i’m so sorry,” he gingerly lifts a hand to your face, pausing for a moment, but when you don’t lean away or swat at him, his thumb brushes your cheek to wipe a tear away that’s just fallen from your lashes, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “thinking about how i made you feel that night makes me so disgusted with myself. i never ever wanted to hurt you, but the fact is that i did and i can’t forgive myself for that.”

a moment of quiet passes between you. you wipe at your face with the sleeve of your sweater over and over but your tears don’t stop and the runaway drops fall onto your bare knees.

“do you remember when we won king and queen of prom court in high school?”

his sudden question puzzles you. you look up at him, and you see the real jeno. your jeno, soft and simple and so full of love.

“we went out for ice cream after the dance. it was the first night i told you i loved you.

and again, when we went to your sister's wedding together. you accidentally spilled red wine on my favorite white dress shirt. you were trying so hard not to cry, but i told you it didn’t matter, because i loved you.

and again, when we took your little brother and his friends out to that laser tag place for his birthday. we played one on one, and when you asked me why i let you win, i told you it was because i loved you.

and again, when you broke your wrist falling off the old tire swing in your front yard. you asked me why i came over every night to feed you dinner, even though you didn’t need the help, and i told you it’s because i loved you.”

“what are you doing?” you cut him off before he can continue any further, your voice small and trembling.

“i’m telling you that i still love you.”

he scoots forward on the ground, his body now so close to yours that you can feel his warmth. “i know i don’t deserve it, but all i’m asking for is another chance to love you right, the way you deserve to be loved.” his fingers cling tightly to your hand he still holds as he speaks.

“i don't know where you stand, so you’ve got all the power in your hands right now. stay here with me, and i’ll know we’re on the same page. turn around, and i’ll leave you alone, and you won’t see me again. it’s your choice, and i won’t judge you either way. your word is the final word.”

you feel heavy. his sweet words and the smell of his familiar cologne are intoxicating, but you do know you have the ability to get up and walk away right now if you want to.

but… do you want to?

the painful racing of your heart reminds you that no matter what, no matter how long you’ve been apart, you love jeno. you always have you and always will.

you raise a hesitant arm, placing your shaking hand lightly on his shoulder, and he draws in a breath. your fingers dance upward, contemplating, lips parted slightly with hazy breaths. cupping his jaw, you lean upward, brushing your lips against his in the lightest kiss, testing the waters.

you ignite. suddenly you’re full of such a serene feeling of home, a feeling you hadn’t realized had been absent from your life from the second you pushed him out of it. all the memories you’d tried so hard to keep at bay come rushing back with the image of a soft and smiley jeno; one who’s never had anything but love for you. jeno sees your eyes light up, and he smiles dreamily at you. in an instant, you’ve never been more sure of anything.

you press yourself up against him, pulling him down into your lips, and he wraps you up in his arms. even though the house is filled with the sounds and heat of other people, it’s only you and jeno in the entire world. you pull away when you can’t control your cries anymore, burying your face in his neck instead.

“i’m sorry,” your voice wobbles as you let out the words, but jeno sweetly hushes you, rocking you back and forth in time with the rhythm of the muffled music.

“no apologies from you, pretty girl. none of this is your fault.” you feel the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders. he presses a gentle kiss to your temple, resting his chin on top of your head.

“i love you,” he reassures you. and he does again, and again, and again.

#lee jeno #lee jeno angst #lee jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno fluff #lee jeno drabble #jeno drabble #jeno imagine #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabble #nct dream x reader #judah.doc

[achaoticeternal]

caught at a crossroads

prince regent!aemond targaryen x stark!reader

summary: while seeking safe passage down the Kingsroad to Dragonstone, you travels come to a halt. word count: 1.5k a/n: i would consider a part 2 if people are interested warnings: AFAB reader, mentions of violence and death

The journey thus far had been so silent with hardly any issues arising. Twelve men at your aid - six Stark men and six Queen's Guard - were ready to lay down their lives to safely deliver you to Dragonstone. After the eldest of Rhaenyra's sons came to call upon your brother in haste, an alliance was formed through the most sworn occasion. A marriage between the Queen's firstborn and Cregan Stark's only sister would tie your houses together.

Cregan and Rhaenyra had reached such a favorable outcome for the people whom they cared about most. Still, Cregan understood the dangers that came with swearing an oath to the Black council. If the Green's went North, he did not want you to fall into their capture. As such, an agreement was made that the young Lady Stark was welcome to reside on Dragonstone, within the sacred walls of House Targaryen.

Passage of the Kingsroad was a risk for anyone who dared to use. Miles of the path lived anarchic tribes that cared little for the proper laws of the land. With this in mind, the band of men were forged together to keep you safe from those on the road, and from those who would come to hear of the betrothal.

Already, your group had been riding for eight days, traveling south. They decided to avoid traversing the Westerlands, things swaying off the main road would do little to help if word ever got to King's Landing. It was better to take the faster route so that they could escort you quickly to proper safety. Instead, your path would take a slight risk. You would cross over the trident and pass through the villages on the outskirts of Harrenhal.

Harrenhal and its neighboring lands had become greatly abused during the war. The entirety of the Riverlands had been battered and bruised with forests of ash becoming more regular by the day. It was rumored that Prince Aemond Targaryen had laid siege to the region in reaction to the loss of his nephew, Jaehaerys. If you could lay low and stay away from the rotation of troops that came through the area, the remainder of your journey would be guaranteed safety.

At first, the ambush seemed to be nothing. Just a few bandits who were looking to start trouble. Yet when they drew blades of Valyrian steel, your guards had alerted you to seek cover. Metal crashed against metal, the sound echoing through the forest. Luckily, being a northern girl, you had some natural knack for survival. Swiping a jagged rock off the ground, you first hid behind the cart your band had been traveling in.

From the position, you could see how furiously your enemies brandished their swords. The experienced men of the King's Guard had no issue holding their own against the fierce warriors. However, the youngest of the Stark men was the first to meet his fate as a guard slashed his throat open. A broken cry had escaped past your lips, watching the body fall to the earth below. You had recognized him as kin to your dressing maid, a good boy, now dead.

As another Stark man fell, you took this as a warning sign to advance further into the woods. Gripping the stone, you slunk away from the makeshift camp and towards a mixed assortment of oak and evergreen trees. The candle in your lantern would soon be snuffed out by its own wax, but it did aid to light your path. Behind you, more men continued to fight and fall. However, huffs of aggression and assertion echoed towards your ears. The enemies were advancing.

"The scouts said there were thirteen," A voice barked out, "Find the last man. We must know what the Black's are planning."

Quickly, you moved behind the trunk of a large oak tree and immediately blew out your candle. There was just enough bush to keep you covered unless someone was searching intently or you gave any sign. If you stayed silent, maybe they would brush over you.

However, you heard the grunts of one of your guards, his gravely voice panting as you heard him being drug down the road, "Who is your final man? Where were you going?"

A low chuckle resounded from his chest, "Queen Rhaenyra's army is growing, and soon she will march on King's Landing and the Usurper."

As you went to peak upon the seen, you heard the sound of a sword being drawn and plunged through the guard's neck. Now all your guards were dead. You were alone in the Riverlands. Alone in the Riverlands with a two-day journey to Dragonstone ahead of you. If you could make it through the night.

Footsteps filled the area surrounding where you kept hidden. The width of the tree and the bush serve you well to keep you hidden in the dark of the night. With baited breath, you remained on edge, hoping they would soon give up.

"Ser Cole," A guard called out to his superior, "We have reason to believe the thirteenth traveler is a woman. If the raven from this morning is true, then I believe it could be-"

"I'll alert the prince," The other man replied shortly.

Nearly an hour passed with little disruption. Only the chittering of the forest kept you company. That was until a sinister voice echoed through the trees.

"Little wolf... Where are you hiding?"

So they were fully aware of who you were, but they still didn't know where you were hidden.

"C'mon, little wolf, if we don't catch you here, we certainly will before you are ever able to reach Dragonstone."

The voice held some familiarly to you. Though deeper and more confident, the rhythm and tone reminded you of just a few years ago. Your first and only visit to the Capitol.

It had been the King's 65th name day had approached and your father had decided that the three of you would all take the journey to King's Landing. While visiting, you had the honor of meeting the King's children from his second wife. His eldest son, Aegon, and his sister-wife, Haelena, the youngest, Daeron, and lastly, the owner of the current voice...

Prince Aemond Targaryen

"The hunter has become the prey it seems..." He called out to you once more, "It's been quite a few years, little wolf, won't you do me the honor of reuniting?"

Your heartbeat began to increase, hammering against your chest. Part of you feared that he could hear it pumping in your chest, or even the panting of your uneven breaths.

Silence returned to the wood, and you knew it might be your only opportunity to move until morning. As you moved to stand, a twig crunched beneath your boot. A moment later footsteps could be heard running in your direction. It was time to act, time to find a nice place to hide. Your feet carried you quickly and lightly through the forest floor, the feeling similar to chasing your brother through the Godswood as children. A feeling of hope grew in your chest...

Only to be crushed when a sword glinted in the moonlight. You came to a scathing halt as Aemond stepped out from behind one of the trees. His platinum hair and sapphire eye reflected bits of pale light as he observed your movements, "Ah... Lady Stark..."

"Prince Aemond," The lady quickly straightened her posture.

The man sheathed his sword as he approached the lone Stark lady, "Seems you haven't heard the news, it's Prince Regent, now. Though you would know that if you were where you belonged in Winterfell."

"I-" You attempted to stutter out.

"Yes?" Aemond smirked, knowing that he had you practically cornered, "Well, my lady, it seems you should come with me. It is dangerous for a Lady like yourself to be unaccompanied on the King's Road."

Aemond stepped forward which in turn caused you to take a step back. His smirk only remained at this behavior from you, the excitement of it all getting to him. Another step forward and he snatched one of your wrists in his large, callused hand. He tugged you forward to keep you close and minimize your attempts to run.

"I have a promise of safe passage, it's... it's a royal decree," You stuttered out as his glare only continued to intensify, "I have the right to go to my intended destination."

In an instant, his smirk fell quickly, "Your intended destination or your intended betrothed?"

Everything began to piece together as he continued, "That's right, my lady. I received word this morning that a dozen Stark men and traitors were seen along the Kingsroad escorting a young woman. This news arrived shortly after news about my Strong nephew's marriage approached, I simply connected the dots. But it's alright, little wolf, you are now a welcome guest at Harrenhal."

Your head shook at his words, "No, no, I-"

"It wasn't an invitation," Aemond quickly interjected as he pulled you closer, "By royal decree of Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen, you are my guest until I see fit to dismiss you."

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #ewan mitchell #house targaryen #prince regent aemond #mattie writes

[aemonds-sapphire]

Riding Dragons

Summary: Aemond wishes for you to meet Vhagar, but ends up showing you that riding two dragons is far better than riding just one.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Cumplay. Dry humping. Pussy slide. Aemond is very needy.

A/N: This is rather long, but bear with me. I got carried away and had to end it in a blast. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4k

“Parading your whore, brother?”

Prince Aegon voiced his mocking tone as he crossed paths with you, effectively sending chills down your spine.

One might assume that years of service to House Targaryen and Princess Helaena bore enough weight to warrant the respect from the King’s firstborn son.

But what Prince Aegon lacked in manners and honour, he certainly made up in disregard of others.

You voiced no complaint. In truth, responding to such accusation would just trigger the future King, and you fully intended on keeping your head attached to the rest of your body for many years to come.

Prince Aemond paced calmly in front of you, paying no mind to his brother’s remark.

That, undoubtedly, merely served to entice Aegon as he charged once more. “I will take your silence as admission.”

Aemond’s feet came to a halt.

“You must be referring to yourself, brother,” he said, turning to face him.

Aegon’s obnoxious laugh was now heard from a distance as he hurriedly made his way up a flight of stairs. As expected. He was a fool, but not to the extent of believing he could take overtake his younger brother should things escalate.

“Me? I don’t parade my whores.”

“Precisely,” Aemond replied as coldly as humanely possible, one hand resting atop the pommel of his sword as a silent warning. “You have whores. I do not.”

“Perhaps you should,” he called out from the balcony. “Indulge in the pleasures of life, brother. People wouldn’t think of you as so… tedious.”

“I don’t give a shit about what people think, least of all you,” Aemond’s grip on the hilt was such his knuckles turned white. “Now leave us be as you proceed to disgrace the name of this family even more with your irresponsible deeds.”

“Be a proper lady-in-waiting, will you?” Aegon’s head turned to face you, laughing. “Use what you have between your legs to please my brother.”

In half a heartbeat, Aemond had drawn his sword and was striding hastily to meet Aegon.

“Prince Aemond.”

Ser Criston Cole had entered the courtyard, flanked by two members of the Kingsguard.

He was no stranger to Aegon and Aemond’s recurring conflicts, and as he owed his allegiance to their mother, Queen Alicent, it was his imperative duty to prevent bloodshed between her two sons.

Aemond stood motionless, glaring up at his brother who waved his hand teasingly.

The way you saw it, Aegon was purely fortunate that Ser Criston had showed up before Aemond got to him.

Sheathing his sword back into place, Aemond motioned for you to follow him, and you promptly picked up the pace to join his side.

“Do enjoy yourselves!” Aegon’s taunt was faintly heard behind as both of you exited through a massive wooden door.

Finally out of sight, you heaved a deep sigh that didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond.

"Do you think Aegon knows about us?"

Aemond's face hardened. "You give him too much credit."

He'd often said the only thing Aegon had going for him was his name. But unlike their ancestor, he was no conqueror.

“Pay no mind to that fool,” he said, guiding you through the road that led to Dragonpit.

“Of course, Prince Aemond.”

He turned his head to you, studying your face for a moment. “Drop the formalities.”

Easier said than done.

But you welcomed his request.

Prince Aemond had a questionable reputation across all of King’s Landing. He wasn’t particularly charismatic, avoided entering tourneys even though he was an esteemed fighter, and, most importantly, he wasn’t next in line to the throne.

But to you, all of that was trivial.

He had taken a liking to you over the last few months.

Even so, you had been conditioned early on in life that a woman in your position could not hope for much.

Having exchanged intimacies with the Prince had done wonders to your ego, but, deep down, you knew it was but a fleeting occurrence.

No one knew of this, and you intended to keep it that way. Prince Aegon’s earlier suggestion made you wonder whether or not he had his suspicions, or if it was simply him trying to get a reaction out of his brother.

Obviously, you wished that you could have Aemond groaning for you whenever possible. Yes, you found bliss in being pressed against a wall while having Aemond Targaryen relentlessly grinding into you through your dress. The stolen kisses and touches under dinner tables. It was all very enticing and you ended up realising over time that you craved his undivided attention.

You had long lost your dignity to another man before coming to court, and it often crossed your mind what was preventing Aemond from fully taking you.

Perhaps he didn’t find you that alluring. Maybe he’d find release elsewhere with far more enticing women.

Or perhaps he was waiting for the right time.

You fancied the latter possibility better, but couldn’t deceive yourself into thinking these encounters would ever be more fruitful.

After all, you were but a modest lady-in-waiting.

He rode the largest dragon alive.

You two were not the same.

“What’s on your mind?” Aemond shook you from your thoughts as you approached the steps leading up to Dragonpit.

“That maybe I’ll regret this,” you let out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s an honour to be in the presence of a dragon such as Vhagar,” he said pleasantly. “She has been flying these skies for a long, long time.”

You’d seen princess Helaena’s dragon, Dreamfyre, up close several times already. However, Vhagar would rarely make a descent into King’s Landing unless to meet her rider as she had outgrown Dragonpit.

Aemond took pride in having bonded with her. He had proved many that he was worthy of being named a dragonrider.

As you reached the top of the wide steps, two dragonkeepers walked in your direction.

Aemond lifted one hand and they exchanged greetings in High Valyrian. He proceeded to remove his swordbelt, handing it to them.

It was very much clear that they deeply respected the young prince.

“Vhagar jāhor sagon kesīr aderī,” the older one said to Aemond.

The younger dragonkeeper cleared his throat and turned to face you. “Vhagar will be here soon.”

You offered a warm smile as he so kindly translated the information.

Aemond was now facing you, examining the length of your body with his eye.

“You will need gloves,” he said, grazing your attire with curious hands. “This cloak is too thin. Riding in this wind will have you freeze in no time.”

“Princess Helaena lent me her gloves, but I forgot to bring them,” you admitted as his fingers removed the pin that held the cloak around you.

Being this close to Aemond was sure to have your heart thumping hard, but you knew better than to transpire how much you yearned for his touch.

The two men beside you simply stood still, in silence, their faces not revealing whatever thoughts they might have on the current situation.

Aemond’s touch lingered when he inspected your attire, making sure you were decent enough to withstand the flight.

“You’ll have my cloak and gloves, then,” he finally spoke.

You shook your head immediately. “I cannot accept, Prince Aemond.”

“It’s not up for debate,” he smiled briefly.

He handed you his large gloves, but took it upon himself to swing the cloak around your body, enveloping you in his warmth.

You swallowed hard.

Having his fingers on you immediately set a wave of chills to spread across your skin.

And he’d noticed.

“You’re flushed,” his voice was but a whisper and he leaned closer. “It makes me want to devour you.”

But before you could begin to process his words, a sudden movement of air had your eyes flutter shit as you , held on to the cloak tightly securing it around you.

Through half-lidded eyes you were able to make out the outline of a massive pair of wings attached to the long body of Vhagar, whose size tripled by the time she made the full descent onto the ground of Dragonpit.

You were visibly shaking, rooted in place as the majestic animal’s roar tore the air like thunderstorm.

Both dragonkeepers rushed to her, reciting a few words in High Valyrian in the hopes of reining her in.

However, they did not share the bond Aemond shared with her.

“Are you ready?”

“No!”

Aemond furrowed his brows, taking your hand in his. “You have to trust me.”

Apprehension took a hold of you, and you struggled to keep up with Aemond’s pace.

“What if she attacks me?” You blurted out, immediately regretting having spoken such words.

“Well, that will depend.”

You kept getting closer and closer to Vhagar.

The urge to tug at his hand to have him let go of you was overwhelming you. “On what?”

Aemond came to a halt and placed both hands on your shoulders.

“Do you wish to hurt me?”

“No!” You immediately said, feeling slightly insulted that he would even utter such nonsense.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

He gave you a gentle encouraging squeeze before turning to meet his esteemed companion whose nostrils flared loudly with impatience.

Patting the scaled neck, Aemond brought your hand to meet his. "Lykirī, Vhagar... lykirī," he whispered soothingly as if speaking to a lover.

The hardened skin beneath your gloved hand rumbled lightly, causing you to jolt back, but Aemond ensured you would not break contact.

You had no way of understanding whether or not the old dragon was pleased to have your touch, but considering you were still in one piece, relief soon washed over you.

Vhagar lowered her body just enough him to haul himself up onto the saddle with elegance that only years of practice could grant.

"Give me your hand."

He tossed the reins to you, and you tried your best to mimic his climb up the dragon. It was no easy feat, and Vhagar nearly had you slip and fall if not for Aemond's commands.

"Dohaerās, Vhagar!" his voice was now firm as he leaned to the side, extending one arm to pull you up. "Lykirī, Vhagar..."

By the time you managed to swing your leg over the saddle, your entire body trembled from the thrilling experience. Aemond wrapped one arm around your waist after adjusting your cloak, securing you close to him.

"Grip this," he breathed in your ear, guiding you to wrap your fingers on the two horns that sprung upright the saddle. "Hold on tight."

He then tugged at the reins and voiced, "Sōvēs."

Vhagar extended both wings and with a force that could tear down entire cities, she took the the sky, whipping the air around, and leaving behind a hurricane of dust that nearly knocked down the two dragonkeepers standing in close proximity.

You felt Aemond's arm around you tighten lightly, and you couldn't help but to be crushed into his body as the wind weighed you down.

Vhagar struggled to regain balance when Aemond jerked the reins to have her fly parallel to King's Landing. You took the opportunity to gaze at the city down below as, with each swing of her wings, it turned into nothing but a conglomerate of colours that you couldn't make out in the distance.

Not long after, you heard Aemond laughing loudly, the sound muffled by the grazing wind.

Even though you tried your best to enjoy this novelty, it was hard to do so as your insides were being hurled around, and you feared you'd be sick.

"Aemond... I..."

Another chuckle from him. "I know the feeling. Try to keep it down."

He was thoroughly enjoying this, but you couldn't share the sentiment, and were extremely grateful once you felt the massive beast you sat on plunged into a steep descent towards a nearby mountain top.

Freezing air licked at your skin and you could only thank the gods that Aemond had the strength to keep you in place, because you were definitely not suited for this.

Vhagar sank steadily until her hind legs came into contact with a flat plane of rock.

You were hurled forward from the impact nearly spilled the contents of your stomach right there and then.

"Can we go back by foot..."

Aemond dropped his arm from around you and pressed an unexpected kiss to the back of your head, drawing a smile from you.

“You did well.”

Vhagar, on the other hand, had made it evident that she was growing impatient with low growls rumbling across her body, causing mild earthquakes beneath you.

Aemond took notice and was slid down the saddle, landing perfectly on both feet. “We overstayed our welcome.”

“What…”

The old dragon ruffled its scales rapidly, shooting concern into your veins.

“Lykirī, Vhagar…” Aemond calmly whispered, patting her neck.

Even though it did cause some of her restlessness to waver, you said as panic took over, “Can I come down now?”

Aemond nodded, raising both arms. “Jump.”

You hesitated for a moment, but placed your trust on him. Swinging your leg over the saddle, you leapt down into his embrace with a loud yelp.

Strong hands absorbed the impact as he carefully lowered you until your feet touched the ground.

Your heart fluttered once more. Over the course of the last months, you’d lost count of the many times Aemond Targaryen was able to bring you comfort.

Before you could make the most of the proximity, Vhagar broke the silence with a massive roar that had the ground shake violently as she hurled her massive wings into the sky, mustering powerful whirlwinds that enveloped both of you.

The mighty beast soared higher and higher, until she was barely detectable against the beaming sun.

“Is she upset?”

Aemond was still glaring into the clear Summer sky. “Dragons are not ours to order around. Bending their will to ours is challenging.”

You weren’t sure of what to say, so you merely listened to what he had to say.

“Allowing me to be her rider is an honour unmatched,” he said, pride coating his words.

Who would have suspected that Prince Aemond who was dragonless until his 10th name day, would one day claim the largest dragon alive in Westoros.

You looked ahead where the rocky hillside subdued into a a patch of meadow, right by a precipice.

Cautious steps brought you near the edge across the soft rug of grass, as you overlooked the breathtaking scenery sprawling in waves of green and yellow as far as the eye could see. To your right, stood King’s Landing, tainting your vision, suddenly feeling out of place as Blackwater Bay edged its borders.

Wonder nearly left you speechless. “Beautiful.”

Suddenly, you felt Aemond standing behind you. “Yes. Yes, you are,” he whispered, pressing hot lips to the side of you neck.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls you bring here.”

He chuckled into your skin. “Not idly do I allow others to ride my dragon.”

Aemond unclasped the cloak, letting it pool around your feet.

“Why me, then?” you asked abruptly, shivering as the cool breeze circled you.

Expert fingers tugged the fabric covering your shoulder, allowing his lips to caress you.

“We both agree on what this is,” he mumbled, bringing his hand to undo the buttons of your shirt.

“And what is this, my prince?” you had to bite back a gasp once he jerked the fabric open, exposing your breasts.

Aemond paused and watched as the coolness effectively hardened your nipples.

“Bliss,” he purred sweetly, fingers gently caressing your breasts. “You have such a hold on me.

You scoffed. "Then why do you not desire me?"

He moved your hand in between the two of you, granting you access to his hardened cock.

And just like that, your knees trembled when he rolled into your touch. "Do not dare question my desire for you."

As much as you'd love to trust his words, you wanted to further press this matter.

You gently caressed him through his pants. "You will eat me... kiss me... lick me... but you won't..." a gentle squeeze earning the most enticing moan you had ever heard from him. "... fuck me."

His jaw was resting on your shoulder as he eagerly sped up his thrusts.

"If I do that... I won't be able to go back," he groaned, yearning for your touch. "I will have to claim you."

The rawness of it had you clenching around nothing, nearly groaning at how alluring he could be.

"Please do."

Aemond removed your shirt, suckling gently at each nipple before moving to your riding pants, which he quickly removed, combining them into a pile nearby.

You stood completely naked in front of him.

Even though pleasure had been clouding your judgement, you said, "We're going to do it here?"

He was kneeling in front of you, looking up to meet your gaze, and that's when you knew you were doomed.

"Ride me," he whispered seductively, sitting on the pile of clothes he'd previously tossed to the ground.

You caressed his handsome face, letting your fingers linger on his eyepatch. "Remove your coat, then."

But Aemond aimed to please at all times, and not only did he remove the leather coat but also the shirt underneath, exposing his bare torso. Short and thin silver hair ran down his navel, disappearing inside his leather pants.

He'd always be able to take your breath away with how captivating he was. All of him.

And he was yours for the taking.

You approached him and planted a single kiss on one perky nipple before wrapping your lips around it. Aemond flinched lightly when you grazed your teeth in between suckles.

He brought his thumb to caress your cheek as you sucked on him eagerly.

"You do love using your mouth, don't you?"

Humming and setting your eyes on him, you bit down gently, earning a gasp from the young prince.

Aemond chuckled, pushing you off him, only to drop to the group, sitting on soft surface.

"Come."

He leaned back, propping himself up on both elbows, set on keeping his pants on.

You did as told, and straddled him.

Reflexively, you started gliding your folds along his covered cock, yearning for more and more friction.

"Now, my sweet lady..." he said in a dangerously low voice. "Lean back."

Your voice cracked. "What?"

Aemond held a mischievous grin. "Lean back."

"Why?"

You brought your hands to rest on his muscular chest for support.

"Do as I say," he insisted, his eye fixed on you. "You will enjoy it."

Truth be told, you had no doubt that you would, which was why you settled for doing exactly as told, leaning back and gripping his thighs with both hands to keep your balance.

Aemond took his sweet time admiring your body, from top to bottom, only to have his eye linger on your folds.

"Let me see it."

The way his words came out in such a velvety delight had your heartbeat quicken as a gush of wetness poured out of you as your pussy involuntarily clenched.

Having such a handsome man literally at your mercy felt more empowering than you have ever expected.

You felt his cock twitch underneath you when you had your other hand release the grip on his thigh to join your other. Once two of your fingers had spread your folds, a low growl came from his throat and his hips jerked up.

"So swollen..." he said, licking his lips in pure hunger. "And wet..."

You did’t need to look down to come to that same conclusion; you could feel the fabric of his sweatpants drenched in all of your wetness. Realizing that this was turning you on far more than intended, you locked your two fingers in a v shape and began sliding them along your folds, barely stroking your clit.

That was enough to get a more fiery reaction from him.

Aemond had one hand tugging at the waistband of his pants to relief some pressure on his cock.

"Aemond..." you started, stopping your fingers from moving. "What are you—"

He bit his lower lip for a second, as if pondering his next move. Then his gorgeous face met yours.

"Just keep them parted."

And just like that, he jerked his hand forward, pressing the two fingers against your clit. The sudden pressure caused you to jolt slightly as you removed your own hand, feeling your pussy lips clamping down on his digits.

"Just like that..." you heard Aemond’s voice come out in heavy pants.

He kept alternating the pressure with which he teased your clit, drawing the most erratic moans from you as sticky sounds started to fill the air around you. Your hands had to grip his thighs tightly to keep yourself steady as each stroke threatened to throw you off balance.

After a few more seconds of intense stimulation, he removed his fingers from your grip.

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for what you witnessed next: the Aemond Targaryen brought the dripping digits to his lips, drinking in your wetness.

He moaned, his hips swaying up and down as you saw him free his cock from his pants, strings of precum spilling onto his lower abdomen. "Delicious..."

"Gods..." you breathed, not believing how much more alluring this man had become before your eyes.

His eye fluttered shut for a brief moment. "You need to taste this."

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his offering. "Aemond..."

He released the his fingers from his mouth and brought downwards to your folds once more, dragging them along your slit to gather a decent amount of wetness. Once he was satisfied with it, he propped himself up with on his elbow.

"Open."

You immediately parted your lips, feeling his fingers slide slowly inside your mouth.

Locking your eyes with his, you enveloped them with your tongue to taste the yourself.

A sudden hiss left his lips as he felt your folds dragging along his length.

He mumbled impatiently. "Ride me."

Even though your mind was hazy from pleasure, you managed to comply with his request and eagerly positioned yourself on his tip.

But then you realised something else. "I think you're... too big."

Aemond's hips jerked up lightly and he groaned as your wetness slid down his length in beads.

"I'll guide you."

It had been quite a long since you had had let a man take you fully, and you worried you wouldn't be able to accommodate his size.

But feeling the tip pressed at your entrance was enough to persuade you.

He gripped your waist with both hands.

"Look down."

Your eyes left his beautiful face only to be met with the mouthwatering sight of his veiny cock slowly being swallowed. The initial stretch had you flinching momentarily, and Aemond halted.

"Set the pace," he huffed, clearly struggling to overcome the pleasure that having your tight walls around him had sparked. "I... can't... you're too tight..."

You could sense he wouldn't last much longer, but were determined to have him balls deep inside you.

Mustering all the courage within you, you sank further, having to bite down on your lip so hard you almost drew blood blood.

Aemond, on the other hand, had his uncovered eye fixed on his cock as it faded inside you.

Your legs hurt from the strain of keeping the balance and steady pace, and once your walls engulfed all of him, you watched in marvel as Aemond brought one hand to up in a fist, sinking his teeth into it with a muffled groaned.

He no longer dared to look at you, shutting his eyes in sheer concentration.

"I want to move..." you moaned teasingly, giving his cock a few trying squeezes.

He shook his head, teeth digging ever deeper into his own skin.

The moment you lifted your hips to have him slide off, he suddenly came to sit upright, gripping your waist and removing you from his cock altogether.

"Already so close, prince Aemond?" you taunted as he dropped onto his back once more.

He frowned deeply, face flushed. "You're too tight... you feel too good."

His words of praise only intensified your hunger for more, so you kept grinding your bare pussy and milking more and more precum from his soaked cock. In no time, a few more beads of clear liquid started to slide down his sides from the constant rhythmic sway of your hips.

"My turn," you let out, bringing your fingers to collect some droplets on his lower abdomen.

Aemond's mouth fell open in utter surprise, eye following your every move. You wrapped your tongue around your digits, tasting the warm liquid. He raised his hips reflexively and let out a couple of deep moans, dragging you along his cock with renewed hunger.

"Want to taste?" You moaned, feeling the familiar coil deep within you tightening from all the stimulation.

You brought your fingers down to his skin once more and coated them, extending your hand to his lips.

"Go on, Prince Aemond," you cooed teasingly. "Taste yourself."

He darted his tongue out, welcoming his own precum that dripped from you. Your hips faltered for a second as your foggy brain focused on the erotic sight in front of you. He greedily sucked on them in between moans and swirls, never breaking eye contact with you.

If not for the overwhelming need for release, you would have done it again, but instead you resumed your strokes along his cock, thankful that his strong hands were able to keep your pace from faltering.

“I'm too close...” he warned in a low tone.

You tried to restrain your moans, but his hips jerking up worked wonderfully to magnify your own delight. “Wait... I’m almost there...”

Your body pressed down against his in a desperate attempt to reach your high. His ripped abdomen flexed with each from you and his hands tightened so hard against your hips that you were sure a few marks would stain your skin afterwards.

“Adere kostilus... faster..." he commanded in between hisses.

The steady pace you both had been able to set completely broke down into ragged jerks of his hips as your folds kept coating him in your wetness. A few more wet sounds and tugs proved to be too overwhelming to dragonrider, causing a guttural growl to escape his gaping mouth.

His body started quivering from intense pleasure as hot spurts of cum shot from his cock, glazing his flushed and sweaty torso with strings of creamy liquid. The turf of silver hair that spread from his navel towards the base oh his cock was completely drenched in a mixture of cum, sweat and precum.

Soon after, Aemond grunted in utmost bliss, sliding one hand to your backside and giving it a loud smack. “Ride me harder...”

Feeling his cock twitch in between your folds and his impressive echoes of pleasure was the last incentive you needed to get pushed over the edge. You plunged into a loud cry that only intensified with each roll of your hips and brush of your clit along his throbbing cock.

“You’re mine... you’re mine... iksā ñuhon,” he mumbled mindlessly.

Your breasts bounced lightly with the rest of your body, and with a few more slaps from his hand on your ass cheek, you came to a stop, clenching around nothing in waves of pleasure. It was too much, and you leaned forward, digging your nails on his slick abdomen, desperate for something to ground you as you peaked high.

You felt both your legs begin violently shake, and that’s when he gripped both your thighs with his both hands to keep you in place

“That’s it...,” he praised sweetly, massaging your quivering thighs as you regained your senses. “You did so well.”

He hand slid up to grip your arms, helping you regain your balance. You felt beads o sweat drip down your neck and back.

"How does it feel to ride a dragon?"

"I should have you dead for being this irresistible, Prince Aemond," you said in between ragged breaths.

"Nēdyssy zaldrīzī senusy daor." Aemond's lips curled up. "Brave men do not kill dragons, they ride them."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #aemond x you

[syrupfog]

Sanji who just wants a job as a sous chef but has yet to be hired, but has somehow managed to enter the world of being a private chef for extremely wealthy families. 

He hates them they remind him of childhood but he needs the cash. 

He starts working for Mihawk.

Mihawk who only eats odd, simple foods. Things that Sanji feels insulted to make. A LOT of toast with cream cheese and jam, honestly. 

Sanji’s bored out of his mind (he starts canning the fruit from Mihawk’s garden to pass the time)

Then one day, bursting through the front door come two people his own age, a woman with pink hair and a man with green, DEMANDING to know why Mihawk moved without TELLING THEM, HIS OWN CHILDREN

Sanji immediately pegs them for stuck up assholes. He’s grown to respect Mihawk, at least (he’s better than the Charlottes were). Spoiled rich adult kids who expect their lifestyles to be funded. Ugh. 

Mihawk blinks and says that he DID tell them.

There’s a lot more shouting as Sanji quietly pickles beets in the background. They come to some sort of truce around the idea that Zoro (the green haired one) lost his phone, and Perona (pink hair) blocked his number after Mihawk called at 2am about his yams.

They’re good yams, Sanji thinks. 

He also learns that they were on a “road trip of self discovery”. He’s not sure what that means. It sounds like rich kid speak for “spending spree”.

They integrate into the household though and, after being introduced to Sanji, Perona demands pink. Anything strawberry. 

Zoro says he’ll eat anything. Sanji doubts that. 

He tests it. 

He makes extravagant dishes. 

Zoro doesn’t seem to even notice, eating without complaint.

Honestly it’s good practice. He uses it as an excuse to get back into the hang of the fanciest things Zeff taught. 

But he still doesn’t like them. Rich assholes. Mihawk’s simple toasts get him a pass.

One thing about Zoro though is that he seems to spend all his time working out, so he comes looking for food at the ODDEST times. And SOMETIMES Sanji is ASLEEP. He’s got a room in the old servants’ quarters and Zoro will appear at any hour.

After the third time being awoken at 2am, Sanji snaps. 

“I’m preparing you a fucking shelf full of onigiri,” he says, pointing with a judgmental finger at Zoro’s chest. “That’s going to be your midnight snack from now on! Some of us need our beauty rest!”

Zoro blinks down at the finger. “Okay,” he says. “I mean. You clearly need it.” 

Sanji scoffs in outrage. He’s still half asleep. He aims a kick at Zoro’s head before he can process his one rule (“don’t hurt clients”). 

Zoro dodges. 

His face breaks out into a grin.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Curls,” he says. 

Sanji stumbles. He regains his footing and stomps down the hall, face aflame. 

He makes thirty onigiri. 

Zoro eats seven. 

“There, that’ll last you three more nights,” Sanji says.

Zoro nods. “So what time do I wake you up to get you to fight me again?” 

Sanji splutters. “No!!” He shrieks. “It’s three in the morning! I know you’re a rich fuck with nothing to do but some of us have jobs! I’m on call 24/7 here!” 

…he regrets it as soon as he says it.

Expects to be fired on the spot. 

Zoro frowns. He crosses his arms. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “Go to bed.” 

Sanji… does. He avoids turning his back on Zoro as he leaves the room, a bad feeling churning in his gut.

When he makes breakfast the next morning, he’s expecting to be fired as soon as Mihawk arrives, but Mihawk mentions nothing. 

Neither do Perona or Zoro when they appear, hours later. 

Sanji feels like he’s walking on eggshells until Zoro appears in his kitchen in early afternoon.

“Hey,” says Zoro. “I talked to my dad.” 

Sanji hangs his head. “So I’m fired?” He asks, dread pooling in his stomach. 

“Fucking what? No, Jesus. I just said you should have a regular work shift. Only like, ten hours on call.” 

“So you docked my pay,” Sanji says flatly.

“Now you’re being an ass,” Zoro growls. “NO, you’re being paid the same, you’re just going to have time off when I can’t bug you. That cool?” 

Sanji frowns, suspicious. “What do you get out of it?” He asks. 

Crossing his arms, Zoro scoffs. “Not getting yelled at at 2am, mostly.”

“You could’ve just not woken me up,” Sanji says. 

“You make it real hard to be nice to you, Cook,” Zoro says, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to do something nice.” 

Sanji melts a little, but he’s not willing to give in entirely. “Well thanks,” he says. “For not firing me, too.” 

Zoro rolls his eyes. “We’ve all had shitty jobs where we want to yell at customers,” He says. 

“Now I KNOW you’re lying,” Sanji argues. “I know how rich you are. I know what Mihawk pays me.”

Zoro looks… funny at him. “Did he ever happen to mention that we’re adopted?” 

Sanji blinks. Thinks of Zeff. “Uh, no?” 

“Yeah,” Zoro says. “Fucking Daddy Warbucks situation. I was seventeen. Trust me, I know customer service. Had to work to eat.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Sanji says. “Now I feel like a fucking ass.” 

“You ARE a fucking ass,” Zoro says. “Want to fight when you’re off work? Officially your shift ends at 6 now.” 

“Dinner is for seven so that won’t work.” Sanji says. “Shut up I have a chef’s integrity.”

“You’re not turning down fighting me?” Zoro asks, sounding oddly hopeful. 

“You spend all day working out so it’ll be unfair,” Sanji says. “But sure, I’ll kick your ass. Winner chooses what filling goes in your onigiri.” 

“Spicy salmon,” Zoro says. 

“Pickled plums,” muses Sanji.

They do end up fighting after dinner, out in Mihawk’s fancy topiary garden (he maintains it himself). 

Bruised and panting, they end up making out behind the large rabbit-shaped tree. 

It becomes A Thing.

#zosan #my writing

[jobean12-blog]

Wood You Be Mine?

Pairing: Lumberjack!Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 2,667

Summary: Your work and Grandmother bring you away from the city and into the mountains and you find more than just some peace and quiet.

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying these AU's with Joel! Been fun to explore and he wears enough flannels LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's fun and flirty and reader is sassy and Joel is grumpy and it's fluffy and soft too!

Joel Miller Masterlist

After several miles of driving along a bumpy dirt road, the cabin appears. A puffing chimney tops a two-story log house, and red checkerboard curtains line the windows. You park your car in front of the porch. The only other vehicle you see on the property is an old blue pickup truck.

When you step out of the car, a rhythmic pounding echoes from the backyard, somehow in tune with the abundance of sounds from the surrounding woods.

You sneak around the side of the porch hoping to catch a glimpse of your newest client. He’d reluctantly agreed to have his cabin featured in your magazine but only because the story was about eco friendly homes built by their owners.

You round the corner of the house and stop dead in your tracks. You had no idea what the man looked like from the front, but from the back…well you liked what you saw.

His strong arms raise an axe high above his head, then crush it down on a log propped on another stump. The corded muscles of his forearms flex with every movement and his biceps are barely contained by the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel.

Faded and worn blue jeans hug his ass and thick thighs and a pair of scuffed up work boots complete the ensemble. A real-life lumberjack.

He stops momentarily, leaning over to grab a rag, and wipes the handle of the axe. He swings the axe again, splitting the log in front of him, and the two half pieces tumble to the ground.

Whatever noise of appreciation comes out of your mouth was not meant for his ears but suddenly, his head whips around and he levels you with an aggravated glare.

He drops the axe to the ground and stalks over to where you stand, his dark brown eyes narrowed and his soft lips tight with his gritted teeth.

“Can I help you with somethin’? Since you’re trespassin’?” he rumbles.

His eyes rake over you and he glances toward the sky.

“From the city?”

You bristle. “Yeah, and what’s it to ya?”

He snorts. “Those boots look real practical darlin.’ I’m sure they’ll come in handy for the next snow storm.”

You look down at your heeled feet. “We plow snow in the city. Super convenient. You know since people like to get a life. Do things. Instead of hiding away in the mountains.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Uh huh. Well, good for you. Any reason why you’re interrupting me.”

“Just here to take the pictures for Mountain Living magazine.”

You rummage through your bag and pull out some papers, passing them his way. You can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf them.

“So you’re the photographer.”

“Yep,” you answer, popping the p and giving him your name.

“Joel Miller,” he grunts and stands to his full height, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

You smile brightly and bat your lashes.

He scowls.

“Let’s go inside so you can take your pictures. And then you can get back to your fancy city life.”

You follow him inside, careful to avoid the mud puddles. A loud, keening screech shatters the silence and you yelp in surprise. You slide in your boots and bump into Joel, grabbing his thick bicep for safety.

A huge bird swoops by and lands on a nearby tree branch, ruffling it’s feathers and eyeballing you. Your fingers flex on his muscle and you gasp.

“What is that? It looks like a dinosaur! Is it going to eat us?”

“It’s just a hawk darlin’,” he answers with a shake of his head. “Shit, don’t they have any birds in the city?”

“I mean sure,” you begin, “but they are small and hop around a lot.”

He stares at you, unmoving. “Well, you’re not in any danger. Unless it decides to take a shit on your head.”

He says it without cracking a smile.

“Aren’t you hilarious,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes.

“Why exactly are you up here in the wilderness?” he asks. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“Other than work…I’m visiting my grandmother. She lives up here and I’m staying with her for the next month. Getting some fresh air and all that.”

“Just as you step up onto the porch you hear a whining noise. A fluffy yellow lab ambles over and sits on your boot, wagging it’s tail and looking up at you with big brown eyes.

“Who’s this?” you ask as you lean down to pet the dog.

“That’s Winston.”

“He’s a lab right?”

“Yep.”

You cough to hide your laugh. “He’s very cute but I thought it was mandatory for all people living here to have some huge breed like a Pyrenees or Saint Bernard.”

“Does your grandmother have some giant dog?” he asks.

“Two Swiss Mountain dogs actually. Bert and Ernie.”

He surprises you with a huge smile. His whole face lit up, his eyes even crinkling at the corners.

“Nice names. I like your grandmother.”

“She’s the best. Even if she worries too much about me. She wants me to move out of the city and come up here for the cleaner air!”

He opens the front door and ushers you inside. “She has a point. It’s much healthier here.”

“And boring-er.”

The door bangs shut behind him.

“That’s not a word.”

“It should be. At least up here.”

He doesn’t look amused and instead walks over to small desk in the corner and shuffles some papers.

You take a look around and blink in surprise. It’s gorgeous. The granite fireplace is surrounded by hand-made wooden furniture and the high ceilings and large windows create a rustic and beautiful scene.

“You look shocked,” he chuckles from behind you.

“Oh,” you startle. “It’s just…it’s so beautiful. How did you do all this?”

He smiles again. “It took a lot of time and sawdust.”

You walk around, running your fingertips over the curves of the furniture and firing off the names of all the different woods it’s made of.

“How do you know so much about that?”

“I’ve taken enough pictures of furniture and asked enough questions to know most types of wood,” you explain.

“Well, now, isn’t that funny. City girls knows all about timber but is scared of the outdoors.”

“I never said that!” you grumble.

“I could see it all over your face when the hawk flew by! You look around like somethin’s gonna jump out and eat ya!”

You narrow your eyes and step closer to him. “That’s just not true. I’m not scared of the woods…I’m simply afraid of…of…certain large mammals that might enjoy life in the woods…you know rubbing up against trees, eating berries and honey and maybe an occasional human!”

“What in the world…?” Joel smirks.

“I’m afraid of bears!” you say as you sit on his couch and slump back.

He tries to stifle a laugh. “I’m guessin’ there’s a story hiding somewhere darlin’.”

“I’m guessing my grandmother is expecting me for dinner. I better get started on the pictures so I’m not late.”

You shuffle with your camera equipment until you’re satisfied then start snapping shots. You’re in the zone and hardly feel Joel’s eyes on you as you work. When you’re done you pack up and hold out your hand to him.

“It was nice to meet you Joel.”

Your hand is engulfed by warm, rough skin and so much strength. You peer up into his face and expect a snarky smile but instead you gasp softly at the winded look you find. He blinks slowly and he tightens his grip before tugging on your hand.

Your boots slide across the hard wood floor until your inches away from him and his gaze drops to your mouth.

Your knees buckle when Winston slams against your legs and wiggles his body between the two of you.

Joel sighs. “Damn dog.” But he leans down and affectionately rubs behind his ears.

Winston sits on your feet and presses his body weight against you, relishing the ear rubs.

“Winston,” you coo as you join in.

“Sorry about him. He’s a big fan of affection.”

You clear your throat. “Isn’t everyone?”

His eyes level with yours and you get caught in his gaze, a warmth spreading along your skin.

“I better get going. I’ll be sure to e-mail you the proofs of the pictures so you can be part of the selecting process.”

You fly out of the house and into the car, tearing down the dirt road then peeking in your rear-view mirror to see Joel standing out on his porch.

“I need a drink,” you mumble before turning toward the small town.

Joel runs a hand through his already disheveled hair after he pulls into the parking lot of the general store in town.

He knows a hot cup of coffee will help and one of those muffins that the owner’s wife bakes.

The general store has it all…coffee, muffins, dog biscuits, a new axe…and you.

There you are, smack dab in the middle of the aisle stocked with wine. You grab a bottle and round the corner toward the register.

The owner, Mark, chats you up as you check out.

“Celebrating something tonight miss?” Mark asks.

“Actually no, just visiting with my grandma but I needed a drink,” you explain to Mark.

“Not sure that’s somethin’ your grandma should be drinkin’.”

At the sound of that familiar deep voice you grit your teeth and turn to face him.

The look of indignation on your face almost makes Joel laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching with his suppression.

“Grandma loves her wine Mr. Miller. And she’s old enough to enjoy it!”

Joel can’t hold back any longer and lets out a bark of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

He steps closer and gives you a once-over before taking a sip of his coffee and raising an eyebrow.

You want to stomp your feet. “I’m surprised you even have wine in this town!”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere. We have electricity, indoor plumbing and the internet! It’s all very modern.”

“Oh yeah sure it is,” you tease. “That explains the jars of penny candy then! And if that’s what you call coffee…well…”

You look to Mark standing at the cash register, “no offense Mark.”

“None taken,” the old man says kindly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you Mark. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy this with my grandmother!”

You grab your bag of wine and march out the door, this time feeling the heat of Joel’s stare at your back.

“Is there anywhere else you want to go before we head back Grandma?”

She smiles and asks you to take her to the general store to visit Mark and get some coffee, telling you it’s been ages since she’s been in to see him.

“Sure Grandma. I’d get coffee too but I think I’ll pass…”

Your Grandma chuckles and pats your knee, still smiling.

As you walk around the store and listen to your Grandma talking with Mark you can’t help it as your thoughts wander back to Joel and the undeniable heat you feel whenever you’re near him. When you make it to the register your Grandma and Mark are talking in hushed voices, glancing your way and looking suspicious as you get closer.

“What’s going on?”

Your Grandma looks at you knowingly. “Mark here was just telling me that you took the pictures of Joel’s cabin for your magazine.”

Your eyebrows come together. “But how did he know that?”

“Joel told me,” Mark explains. “Said you took fantastic pictures. Really captured the heart and soul of his place.”

You smile at that and your Grandma’s face brightens.

“He’s a good man. A bit gruff, but good. Better than most actually.”

You look at your Grandma, letting her words sink in as you become more confused. “You know Joel?”

“Everyone knows everyone ‘round here baby,” your Grandma says. “And when I tell you Joel’s one of the good ones you best believe it.”

“Why should it matter to me?” you ask as realization dawns on you.

Your Grandma and Mark share an entertained expression.

“OH NO!” you say, far too loudly. “No way! There is no way in hell I’m getting involved with a big, cranky, grumpy, Lab-owning, house building, bearded lumberjack who lives in the middle of nowhere!”

Both your Grandma and Mark smirk and glance over your shoulder.

“Hi Joel,” Mark says. Good to see you again.”

You narrow your eyes at Mark. “Funny. You expect me to believe that he’s standing behind me?” Just how naïve do you think I am!”

A low rumble in your ear raises every hair on your body.

You turn until Joel’s face comes into view, his beard, complete with patches of gray, only inches from your lips.

“For the record, I’m only grumpy when people trespass on my property.”

He smiles and places some dog biscuits down on the counter before walking off down another aisle.

Your Grandma cackles. “Oh he definitely likes you.”

Mark nods enthusiastically in agreement before you look between them both and stomp off in a different direction.

Unfortunately that direction takes you smack into the hard chest of your grumpy lumberjack.

“Oof,” you mutter, closing your eyes when his strong hands close around your waist.

“You ok darlin’? You were comin’ round that corner so fast I didn’t have time to move. Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” you whisper, slowly opening your eyes until your vision is filled with the soft brown color of his.

“And by the way,” he continues. “I might be slightly grumpy, a lab-owner and a builder but I ain’t no lumberjack.”

“Really,” you muse, still standing close enough that you can feel his chest brush yours with his inhale. “Let’s see,” you point at his flannel shirt. “Plaid shirt. Check! Axe? Saw you use one of those! Check! Beard,” and you glance at his chin, your fingers slowly lifting until your brush them over his cheek.

“Check.” The last one comes out breathy and light.

Joel chuckles, dipping his head until his warm breath fans your cheek and his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What do you say to lettin’ me take ya out for a bite to eat? There’s a local dive that makes decent food and I think they even have wine.”

You pause, trying to steady your shallow breathing.

“Well, I guess that might be okay. Considering there’s wine…and Grandma says the college boys are really cute here in town.”

Joel frowns. “College boys? I don’t think college boys would know how to satisfy a sophisticated city woman like you.”

He strokes his callused fingers over your soft jaw. “I think you might need a real man for the job.”

You still beneath his touch, then let out a slow breath.

“What makes you think I’m looking for a real man? Maybe I’ve sworn off all men for a while.”

“I don’t think you have any idea what a real man can do for you darlin’.”

Your eyes linger on his mouth and he clears his throat, but his voice still comes out gravelly and strained.

“Lumberjack men don’t fool around. What you see is what you get. And when we see what we want…”

He stares at your lips, pouting and inviting. “We take it.”

Your lips part on a breathy gasp before you recover and sass him with, “but you said it yourself, you’re no lumberjack.”

He just smiles and waits, softly tracing the outline of your jaw.

You run your tongue over your lips and stare at him.

“Okay. You can take me out.”

He grabs your hand and turns on his heel, pulling you right past the register and out the door.

(Don’t worry, Grandma got a ride home and is safe and sound- neither Joel nor our reader would never leave her hanging).

@pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @littleseasiren @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @kmc1989 @hallecarey1

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #lumberjack!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #lumberjack!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #lumberjack au #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Along the Road of Nameless Graves

Presiding over a series of forested foothills and mountainous valleys that divide two rival kingdoms, the mist-shrouded barony of Siirvyn has seen more than its share of war over the past generations. Betrayal, invasion, and massacre are all too common motifs in the barony's long history, leaving all sorts of scars on both the landscape and the people who dwell within it.

Adventure Hooks:

Rumours of a treasure draw the party to Siirvyn, apparently concealed in a vault beneath the ruined castle of a long dead baroness Taviaa. Surely it won't be too hard to locate a single ruin in a land frequently beset by war, right?

The party arn't the only one combing across the barony looking for something. A hardluck knight seeks her brother after he vanished on a foolish quest, and might be willing to help the party out of jam if they aid her in search.

Folk of the barony tell of Grimcackle, a great black winged beast that moorlands that's sometimes heard laughing over the desolate battlefields but is only ever seen by the lost and the desperate. To heed the old stories it plunders the old battlefields of it's choicest riches, hoarding the wealth of the dead over centuries of war.

Subquest 1:

The party's hunt for riches gets complicated after arriving in the region to find that there has been no less than eight baroness Taviaas over the past century(backwater fiefdoms do like tradition after all) with five castles between them. Most have been destroyed by disaster, neglect, or siege, leaving the party to trek across the land checking checking out each option (though a clever party might narrow their search by hitting the local archives and cross referencing historical accounts).

Potential ruins include:

The delapidated lair of the local owlbear

Huanted by the ghost of one of the baronesses Taviaa,

The Hideout of a gang of smugglers with far reaching ties

Thoroughly cursed by a battlefield savaging spriggan who deals in cursed weapons.

To make matters even more complicated, one of the castles has been restored by the current baron Arkolo who would likely not take kindly to a band of renegade sellswords pilfering riches from under his nose, forcing the party to avoid it entirely or risk getting thrown in the dungeon if caught.

Subquest 2:

Ser Riley of Breakbridge never expected to inherit the family title, her father favoured her elder brother Rhys far more, and when the old man died in the last war there was no question who his holdings would pass to. Then, a couple of years ago Rhys got it into his head that he needed to reclaim the family's ancestral sword which was lost in the same bloody battle that did their father in, crossing the mountains to scour old battlefields and not being seen since. After righting the mess Rhys caused by his chivalric absence, Riley has come to Siirvyn herself to drag him, or possibly his body back from his foolhardy quest. The party may run into her requesting aid from the Baron, seeking advice from the local shrine to Tyr, or drinking off another unsuccessful trek through the wilderness at the local tavern. She'd welcome their aid in her search, and would gladly pay them back by lending her blade to theirs in their search (or using her influence to spring them from the baron's dungeons, should they have been caught).

Rhys' trail snakes all across the barony (including leaving a journal in one of the ruins the party wanted to search), but terminates in the great barren battlefield that was his father's last stand. While searching these moorlands the party & Ser Riley will run into a band of armed scavengers apparently conducting their own body-hunt for one of their fallen comrades. They served on the opposite side of the war from Riley's family, and if that wasn't bad blood enough, they apparently came to blows with Rhys a little under a year ago and aim to settle the score with his sister.

Regardless of how the standoff plays out (talking the scavengers down and exchanging favours or beating the information out of them) the Next step is to find Grimcackle's nest. By now (especially if you're playing with my affliction system and the party is tired out from all their wandering across the countryside) the party will have realized that the only way to see the great raven is to be nearing the edge of death, whether through actively dying, being poisoned, or just being exhausted to the bone. This is because the great raven is infact a psychopomp, tasked with sorting out the dead from the region's innumerable wars. Once the party find the particular tor the dread raven uses as roost, they'll find him quite chatty in the way of most birds, happy to trade gossip or play show and tell with his many finds. Rhys did indeed come to challenge Grimcackle for the sword, an act of daring rudness that forced the psychopomp to drag the knight's soul to the purgatory it rightfully belonged.

Resigned by the love she bears her brother, Riley insists she must venture into the shadow to save him, leaving the party with the choice of convincing her to abandon her quest, leave her to her fruitless pursuit of honour, or risk it all alongside her for the sake of an idiot who thought he could convince an aspect of death to respect his pedigree.

Subquest 3:

After their harrowing adventure the party return to town to find that Baron Akolo has been assassinated and all of Siivyrn has been thrown into chaos and suspicion. Fingers point and depending who the blame lands on it might spell civil war or invasion for the backwoods barony once again.

Background: Both neighbouring powers wish to control who moves through the region's winding passes, and expend great effort in both war and peace to ensure the barony is favourable to them. While occupying armies and vassalage have been all too common in the past, the region's ostensibly independent ruler Baron Arkolo is a puppet in all but name for the winning side of the most recent war. Little more than a bandit leader during the conflict savaging battlefields and attacking supply lines on both sides, Arkolo saw the way the wind was blowing before anyone else and made himself indispensable to his current patrons before their inevitable victory.

Little more than a strongman at first, the newly elevated baron managed to ingratiate himself to his subjects by leveraging his outlaw status to cast himself as a hero fighting against the great powers rather than ruling on their behalf. All the while the canny old bandit was of course playing both sides, toadying to the victorious kingdom while helping to run the smuggling operation for their rivals.

Clues & Consequences:

The baron had a stormy relationship with his son and prospective heir Kalo, who came up raiding alongside his father. After the war however, the young man felt he'd had enough of violence renounced his possesisons and joined the secluded temple of Tyr as a means of making peace with his bloody past. Arkolo never approved of his son's taking the cloth, refused to name another heir and would frequently make pilgramage to the temple just to argue with him. Despite their years of contention however the had seemed to reconcile in recent months, becoming closer than ever. Kalo is not taking his father's murder well, and has decided to dust off his old bandit skills alongside his newfound connection to a wargod as a means of finding the killer. Like an angered bull, he's liable to charge at whoever draws his attention, a weakness the real culprit might use to direct him onto the party's trail.

Gareth Gosdown, the baron's advisor and castilian is an agent of their patron kingdom, sent to keep the former outlaw in line and the kingdom's garrisons well supplied. In the wake of Arkolo's death, he's less interested in finding the killer than he is reinforcing his masters' hold over the barony in case of a new invasion. Known for butting heads with the Baron's more slapdash ruling style he's the one the common folk are most likely to point to.

Taviaa (ninth of that name) was born to the Baron after he'd claimed the region and married one of the local nobles. Though still young, she has a cutthroat attitude and a mind for politics, which made it all the more frustrating when her father refused to give up on her pious half brother as heir and name her instead. She knows she's the obvious culprit, the case made all the more convincing by the fact that she's recently been paling around with emissaries from the other kingdom.

Art 1

Art 2

#trying a new format for this lemme know what you think #tyr #psychopomp #highlands #highland dungeon #mystery

[phramboise]

— collector:: simon“ghost”rileyxfemale!reader

Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you? Find nourishment in the very sight of you? You think so. But would you see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?

tags and warnings: 18+, therapist!reader, patient!riley, mentions of names of psychiatric drugs, disorders, self-destructive behaviours and many other labels that are in the nature of therapy, talk of trauma, persuasion, sexual fantasies, kissing; drugging, kidnapping, nudism, Stockholm syndrome, self-pleasuring (f), vaginal fingering, female receiving oral, semi-public sex, vague ending. More like your obsessive situationship kidnapping you. italics are therapy entries, scribbled notes of the therapist written in her POV; the rest is in third POV. In no way this is praising or normalising any behaviour written -read at your own risk, drugging and kidnapping are not consensual.

wordcount: 3k

;;

When Mr. Riley first crossed your gaze, it wasn't amid your session. Across the road, he stood, and there was no mistaking the man. Here near the thicket, scarcely a few people wear long sleeves on summer fierce, and even fewer have masks on. Until you stop making a mental prognosis even for a person who is not your client and come back from your tea break -or until the end of your shift if you don’t notice- he lingers around, waits at the bus stop, though not seeming to wait for a bus for countless have come and gone, in the hours long.

Another man is what you see, he might be any passerby on the street, and perhaps he is. Mr. Riley embodies one of those afflictions, less unique than he imagines, of those pathologies you've encountered before. When you extend your hand to greet him in your office, he offers no response, nor does he ask of you to address him more sincere. Mr. Riley he remains. He's one who knows himself, aware of his inner discord, though its depths remain veiled. From afar, his black eyes turn warm summer, amber in the sunlit pane, his presence yields little beyond the his file's mundane strain. He avoids talking of his past, and names elude the characters as he tells little pieces of his life. No period of self-destructive history, no suicide attempts. No addiction on gambling, alcohol. No signs of wrist cutting, nor drug injections -seems you misinterpreted his clothing choices. Many hospitalisations, all classified military field papers, one particular on teenage period, one he speaks not about.

Mr. Riley's visits to the office seem to transcend the usual reasons of any other patient, not for seeking counsel or solace; they harbour an enigma you can't quite decode. He adamantly requests your final session on Friday evenings, as if bound by some unseen rhythm of his own. There's no poignant trauma he didn't untangle of himself, no platitude of life's hardships to impart upon him. He has already navigated life's currents, seemingly with ease. There's no sign that he needs a therapist to grasp the stark realities, to know life's not to see through rose-tinted veil.

He is a patient who possesses a profound understanding of himself, sparing you the tire of the week's closing session. There's no need for medical interventions, no requirements for Risperidone, Prozac, or Paxil, nor any hint of sedatives to dull his senses. At times, his answers are so astute that the roles between therapist and client seem to blur. In the dynamic of your therapeutic alliance, there is no predetermined mould, because Mr. Riley doesn't adopt them.

Not a traditional pathology, Mr. Riley is one where not the patient being ready for the therapy, but the therapy being not ready for the patient, one who needs of you to be creative and bold to unravel himself. Of no technique, no book nor rule. So, you suggest roleplay -no voice recorders, not a notepad to write down occasionally. Less practical and even less theoretical. You even offer to do it on the skirt of the small lake behind the office as not to create social desirability. -Not that he bothers of it.

He accepts.

Now, neither of you are what your roles are defined to be, you are no therapist, nor he is a client. He’s not a diagnosis, a test to report, a scale. Not an alienation, not a compulsive or antisocial disorder. Only Mr. Riley.

When you ask him about his first memory he recalls, you realise you must play the maternal figure in this intricate play. When you settle on the bench overlooking the pond, he approaches from behind, enfolding your shoulders before walking to your front, resting his head to your lap. He does not know much about gods; but he thinks that the water is a way of semblance, his soul’s double winks off the reflection, whispers in your voice as you offer solace. “Sometimes” you begin, stroking gently the blond locks that nestle on your lap, “one must mourn to heal.”

He rises on his knees, clinging to your body as you caress his neck, crying to your chest as your cloth is now pulled down with the weight of him resting on you. …Like a baby, his resistance just melts away.

Mr. Riley requests that from now on the therapies take place in the backyard of the building, and since this change of nature contributes to the therapeutic alliance more than the office setting did, and now that he is sure of you enough to remove his mask, and since now when he looks at you he sees you, you acquiesce.

Mr. Riley is touch deprived, he has not yet spoke about his father, but he revealed in our role play therapies that his mother passed when he was only a child - his deprivation leads to a relentless need for contact, that is, after he started to trust me. He shook my hand today, and came with only a mask that covers half his face, which he later took off also. I feel for much further developments with Mr. Riley, which is heartening.

He's by your step as you step around the garden, his presence a silent echo of your every move. His arm wraps around your shoulder as you sit next to one another on the bench. With each sensual step, he surrenders morsels of his shadow, weaving them into your shared space. And when he bids the invitation to walk hand in hand along the water's edge, you accept. Not a drug-treatable depression, rather, it's a serenity born from the tumult of excess violence and the rusty imprints of roads taken, reflected in his eyes. A familiarity in his demeanour, a wash of embrace as if he unravels yourself to you.

Mr. Riley abandons the sessions for a while, it takes a lot of strength to pretend to other clients that you are interested in their problems. When you start to wait in your office on Fridays, even though your last session is available, an empty slot, and when you do this for weeks on end, you realise that this bond is a two-way street, nothing professional. For him, you are a person who will listen, for you-

Someone to listen.

;;

When he does return, the birds are flying south. You find yourself consumed by a gnawing unease of thinking that his routine apathy is back again. Once more, -you prayed so- he seats you into the sanctuary of the bench amidst the garden, yet his eyes no longer linger upon yours with their former intensity. When he pushes you into the water with the strength of one arm, you freeze for a moment, and when he pulls you back in before you soak in the reedy river, he catches you unaware and kisses you harder than you dreamt possible.

One thing you cannot deny, is how his demanding yet sensual kiss is turning you on, leaving not one bit of your responsibility, your authority as the therapist as his hand moves over your legs, circling beneath the curve of your hips. Dipping his hand between your warm thighs, you let his firm touch venture between, supple skin heating cold fingers. His other hand gropes a fistful of your slinking skirt, and you wrap his scent around your loins as he falls to his knees again before the bench. Before you.

Never in all your career you thought you’d be getting into this, to abuse someone who is to solace in the first place, even the thought of it appalled you. Now the thought tightens his fingers on your hips, his tongue rubs idly against your clit in unrushed fashion, he slowly feasts you out.

Mr. Riley will no longer attend our therapy sessions – I said to him that our sessions are not helping him, gave him another therapist’s card, hopefully his condition will move for the better. My efforts were useless I’m afraid.

It’s what you wrote down the day after, but you don’t recall him agreeing.

;;

Three Fridays it takes when he suddenly reappears, he intercepts you locking the door of your office. Adorned with the very mask he tells you he came back to get the other one from you, he’s clad beneath a hoodie, zipper drawn all the way to conceal more than just his torso, hood over his head. You’re not sure what to answer, in a vague indecision, with the haunting realisation that his condition remains as unchanged as ever. Perhaps you should have heeded the warning signs, reconsidered the nature of your occupation, and resisted the temptation to immerse yourself so deeply in his plight— perhaps you shouldn’t have given of yourself to something that won’t heal for the better.

He's your shadow down the corridor, a silent loom trailing behind you as you make your way back to your office. You let out the breath you've been holding as you pick up the pace and create a few steps of distance until you reach your door. Yet, even within the confines of your own space, his presence looms large, casting a pall of uncertainty over your every thought.

In your room, he follows, his silence heavy in the air. As you retrieve his mask from the drawer, he catches your wrist as you turn.

One word leaves your mouth, he’s on you again. Pressing your back against your desk, one hand winding tight around your arm as the other tips your chin up for you to meet his height as he looms over you. The caress of his lips draw tingling heat to your cheek, your lips, your neck. You feel his body against yours deeply as he clines closer, hand on your jaw tight as he tries his way in with his tongue, both hands cupping your head to his, leaving nowhere to lean but him.

His mouth feeds something inside yours, a smooth little dragée that leaves a ragged earthy taste each second you refuse to swallow down, his mouth is on yours to keep it on your tongue, raw liquorice and a sickly sweet taste in your pharynx, your nose tightens in its taste as you try to pry away with a doleful cry — he only pulls away as he feels it down your throat with his thumb, the other wipes the tear on your cheek as he pushes his forehead against yours, cooing it’s okay as you shudder in trepidation.

You leave the room, try to cough it out your mouth.

A hit behind your neck is enough to knock you out.

;;

The sound of spinning tires piercing a howling like a restless banshee against the asphalt wakes you, worn leather feels eerie against your back as you sink into its contours, laid sprawled on the backseat in a short slip gown you don’t own yourself that pools around your hip as the car you’re in hurtles towards the undying disquiet. Cool leather surrounds you, as if offering a hug from the owner on the driver’s seat. The sight outside is a blurred panorama of shifting shadows of a transient night and neon lights racing by in dragging lines before your surly hand moves to feel the ache nestled behind your nape. His gaze grazes your body through the rearview mirror. Deliberately slow is his hand resting over the open window as he drops the stub of his cigarette down, he pulls his mask down before dividing the cold night air mixing with the smoke through the misty window. You don’t know where this road leads, where he’s taking you. Of what he forced into your mouth or when he wore this negligee on you.

Gentle engine lulls you, to some elusive and ephemeral warmth, starts below your stomach, sprouts where you fear it. You were right when you thought, neither of you are what your roles are defined to be. Now he’s to lead, and you’re to follow this fleeting respite of surreal blend. Something in your blood that gets you warm, or it’s the adrenaline of this unknown place. Only Mr. Riley and you. You’re scared, you’re intoxicated. You enjoy it.

You turn your head to his side, wind blows your hair, trails over, snakes through your legs as your hands move to pull the skirt down to cover your hips, holding the satin tight between your thighs. Your own skirt is gone. So are your sheer tights, so is your underwear – he must’ve taken them off before he carried you in his car.

The sultry heat pulsates between your thighs, a yawning chasm that stirs an ache inside. Though, there’s no trace of wetness that already paints your groin, only the searing fire deep within. Your insides burn but you don't feel any strain anywhere except the pain in your neck. You still smell like your own perfume, untouched, without an intrusion of cigarette smoke on his fingertips or the weight of his hands grabbing your skin. Not a single mark marrs your flesh, not even the faintest imprint that dry, rough fingertips as they graze on supple skin. He seems to only changed you in silk, a whisper-soft fabric that clung to you, only piece that’s shielding you from the cool grace of the air. As your fingers brush over the tender swell of your breasts, a shiver dances down your spine. The satin wrapped fabric weaves you into a life that is not meant to hurt, and with each breath, a soft moan threatens its way out your parted lips, a melody of surrender to the lethargy that he trapped you in. You now have a few ideas about the pill he gave you.

Leather smells varnish, aroma intertwining with the haze of his cigarette smoke that hangs in the air. His masculine presence stands as a silent challenge to your frailty. With a delicate touch, you place your hands on your kneecaps, the tip of your tongue running over your teeth as your knuckles leave the skirt of your dress, not holding it over yourself anymore. He must’ve done the same, you imagine his fingers tracing a similar path, grazing against your inner thighs as he lowers your panties, taking them off. Grounded by a thick, scorched, labdanum base, a dark and brooding charred wood and burnt sap, floods through you as the air carries his cologne to you, your nose picks up whatever it is that gets your body wanting more, you caress yourself. 

Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you? Find nourishment in the very sight of you? You think so. But would you see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?

You wish you fingers were to be rougher, thicker and that your fingertips would smell of tobacco. Of something grainy and rugged instead of this slipping silk between your legs for you to rub against. Did he made you sit on his leg as he clad you in this dress that leaves none to imagination, had he rubbed you against his trousers as he put you down? 

Your breathing gets heavier, he changes the hand that steers the wheel, now the car decelerates to keep it in control, now slow enough, a person on a sidewalk would have a flash of image if they were to be as the car glides by- you know you’d do this even if there were no tinted films on the windows- you search for his gaze over the rear mirror, laden with unspoken want. You clench around nothing, mutter words of no meaning, but he knows. You whine deeper breaths, and they soon turn to lilting whimpers. 

You think about him feeding you the pill with his tongue - does he feel as you do right now? You wriggle your hips, let a moan to get yourself going, his eyelids flutter close before yours do slowly. He’s watching you; did he watch you when he stripped you naked? How long was he watching you? Your heart races with the writhing pulse between your legs as you rub your arm along your nipple, your hand moves to your core, brushing against your clit as you move your fingers against your lips, the breeze of the interior now seeping on the slick you play with your fingertips. The car sways a little out the road as you cry out a louder whimper, pebbles rolling under the tires, vibrating the seats, adding you on. 

Some part of you wants him to pull the car to the side, come to join you, grab you by the ankle and yank you out the car, do whatever he wants to you against the asphalt. Some part likes this piercing gaze through the reflection, of him biting the insides of his cheek as he groans lowly and shifts himself on his seat. From the little frame of the mirror, his free hand is out your sight, but you hear it.  Hear his belt loosening as the metal hits the strap. You hum as you increase the pressure, circling your much thinner finger around your hole before sliding in, clenching around them as you slide the latter finger. 

If he were to tell you to call him by his name before, you’d moan it. Now, all that leaves your mouth is loud and lewd sounds as the saliva clicks against your tongue, synching slow with the in-and-out of your motion, trying to reach your g-spot with the tips of your fingers. 

This won’t last long, are you sure if this is what you want?

Open your eyes, where are you going? Did you even ask? Pill wears off slow in time, fear stings beneath arousal’s guise, your slick skin sticks to your hair, to the now warm and wet cushion under you. Everyone seems to be asleep but you two, as he takes you into the unknowns of the lovers. Your fingers demand release, rubbing and rubbing hastened than your breath, ill imagery fills goosebumps on its way down to your spine, in texture of his icy fingers. Your teeth sentinels at your lips, hard against skin, against the impulse to speak his name— a bare boundary to still not cross on your book. Maybe you could’ve stopped it if you wanted, but you’re not the one driving. Truest valour lies not in defiance, but in surrender. So you do, let it all out.

It's a hushed stillness of something trembling under, the radio scratches before it turns a sepia-tone song spilling cadence, a gentle sway as you massage and pull your soaked legs to your chest, laying on your side as the road keeps hurling forward to an endless terrain.

#cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod mwii #call of duty #cod x reader #summary off Hannibal #now that I have this out it’s time for another looooooooooongv time again

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

yin & yang pt. 4

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.7k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You were an unlikely pair, everyone could see that. But what happens when you get a glimpse into a future where your differences were too much for you to bear?

A/N: Once again just a silly little self-indulgent fic. Hope you enjoy!

Ben groaned in boredom, laying his face against the dirty tables outside Mr. Smoothie. Not even the smoothie, cheekily titled banana-fantana, was able to cheer him up like Gwen had been hoping.

"What's up with you?" Kevin asked, drinking his soda that he got from a nearby vending machine, after he had refused a smoothie four times.

"I miss (Y/N)." He mumbled, pouting.

They shared a glance over his head. Gwen ushered for Kevin to speak but he shook his head adamantly, mouthing that he wanted no part in this and crossing his arms.

Gwen glared at him.

"Speaking of (Y/N)—" Kevin began, all too quickly.

Ben finally raised his head from the table to look at Kevin and his friend bit his tongue, turning back to Gwen with wide eyes and beckoning her to speak.

"Uh, it's not that we don't like (Y/N)—we do! She's a great addition to the team and a good friend even—and um, Kevin?"

The man in question gave her a wicked glare before Ben turned to him and the murderous expression on his face was wiped away, "Gwen's just concerned that you might be—how did she put it—'acting like a lovesick fool'."

The look he got from Gwen was in stark contrast to the pig-headed grin he was bearing.

"What are you talking about?"

Gwen finally sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We all know that you have this crush on (Y/N) but—and I mean this in the nicest way possible—but don't you think it's time that you start, you know, trying to get over her?"

He raised a brow, "Why on earth would I do that?"

"It's nice that you like her so much, but you know what (Y/N)'s like; she's driven and focused and her career as a Proctor is the most important thing to her—not that that's a bad thing! It's just—well—someone like that doesn't really seem like the type to date or be into relationships, you know?"

"That's not all what she's about. I know it doesn't seem like it but she's actually really sensitive and sweet."

They shared another glance, unconvinced.

"Guys, I'm serious! We have something between us!" He defended, unconsciously clenching his fist, and crushing the half-full smoothie cup in his hand.

Gwen let out an irate sigh.

Growing up, she had only heard of how smart she was from everyone surrounding her—her parents, her grandfather, even Ben—and yet whenever she tried to explain something to people, they tended not to listen.

If only Ben would listen to her now, he'd be able to avoid so much pain in the future. Whenever she tried to gently nudge him, he'd never listen so this time she took a more direct approach and yet, he still wasn't listening.

"Ben, please. I can tell that you're actually falling for her but honestly, where do you even see this going? Do you actually believe that you're going to get married and have kids or something like that?"

"Gwen, I'm just sixteen, it's way too soon to be worrying about something like that!"

"So, you're just going to date her until it becomes a problem?"

Ben rolled his eyes, standing from the table, "How about you mind your own business and keep your nose out of my relationship. I don't have to sit here and convince you of anything."

Kevin watched him walk away before letting out a low whistle, ignoring his girlfriend's glare, "I told you that was a bad idea."

***

Ben kept a single hand on the wheel as he drove the two of you over the museum, where you were supposed to meet Gwen and Kevin for a mission. You had long stopped reprimanding him for not driving with both hands since he began throwing tantrums and claiming he couldn't focus if your fingers weren't intertwined with his free one.

The roads were empty at this time of night anyway.

"Hey, did Gwen talk to you about anything? Me, specifically?" Ben brought up and you immediately picked up on the slight squeeze of his hand in yours but didn't comment on it.

"Not lately, no. Is something wrong?"

Ben let out a relieved sigh, "Nope, nothing at all."

You raised a brow at this, staring at him with suspicious eyes. He eventually caught on to your prying gaze and immediately attempted to change the topic, pretending like you didn't notice his futile attempts to do so.

"That's a pretty necklace, where'd you get it?"

You rolled your eyes, watching as a cheeky grin grew on his face at your response. He was not hiding his giddiness very well, but how could he? You, his beautiful girlfriend, whom his cousin said was a monotonous emotionless dead-end (she didn't actually say this, but Ben was offended all the same), was wearing the necklace that he had gifted her.

It was fairly simple, a thin chain with a small pendant with a gemstone. He knew you wouldn't wear something that was flashy or too gaudy, so he settled for something he knew you'd like.

And the sight of you wearing the necklace even though you usually insisted that any accessories that weren't a part of the uniform could sometimes hinder the mission was completely worth the hours of time spent staring at different necklaces that all looked the same and troubling his mother for advice until she hurled a wet sponge at his head.

***

When he was responding to the distress signal on his Omnitrix at the museum, Ben wasn't expecting to get attacked by a bunch of ninja that seemed to appear out of nowhere before disappearing into thin air.

You stared at the green tablet in the crate as you wondered just where you had seen the artifact before.

"It's the Hands of Armageddon." You explained, going through your database quickly to pull up all the information the plumbers had on it, "It's an artifact that was secured by the plumbers more than 2 centuries ago. It's said to be a crosstime gateway created by the Chronians, but we have yet to prove that. It's virtually indestructible though. The Plumbers have had multiple attempts and they all resulted in mass disasters."

You turned to Gwen, "The vision you saw was probably an alternate dimension—"

"Right as always, young (Y/N)."

Before the flash of light behind you could even disappear, you were pointing a gun at it, only lowering it when you saw Paradox emerge through the blinding light, accompanied by someone you'd never met before and yet, still recognized.

"Who's your friend?"

Ben stared at him with apprehension before realization struck him, "Are you?"

The man responded with a startlingly deep voice, "That's right, Ben, I'm you—only even more awesome."

You were hardly surprised, the man before you was a splitting image of your boyfriend and you averted your gaze to hide the oncoming heat to your cheeks at the sight of his beard and his stronger build. He certainly grew up nicely.

Ben 10k and Professor Paradox didn't waste any time and began to explain just what problems the group of you had somehow managed to get stuck in once again. As the four of you heard their explanations, you heard a slight sound coming from the back of the museum.

"Shh."

Ben 10k raised a brow at you, opening his mouth to say something when you shushed him again, with a fierce glare this time. It was only a second more before you were swerving around to point your gun at another intruder, a woman this time, who was pointing her own gun at you.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, faced with an older version of yourself.

She looked like you, that much was obvious, but she was also different, much more womanly than you were, with more rounded curves and a more matured face.

Recognizing her younger self, the you from the future lowered her own gun and placed it back into her holster, taking a look around the room and registering just how many faces were there.

"What the hell is she doing here?!"

She raised a brow at him, lips pursed in annoyance, "Excuse me?"

Paradox sighed, "I apologize for this, Ben, but this involves her future as well."

He gritted his teeth in fury, rolling his eyes, "That's just great."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, whose face had fallen so far it looked like he had just had his heart broken.

Gwen sighed, whispering something that had only been audible, to him and you watched as his face fell deeper, "I tried to warn you, Ben."

***

Professor Paradox was one of the most infuriating people in the entire universe. You had gathered as much since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting him, but he seemed intent on reminding you exactly why you disliked him.

He spoke in riddles, appeared and disappeared as he pleased, never made any sense but expected everyone to listen to him with no explanation whatsoever.

And so, it didn't help your opinion of him when the cargo hull of the jet began rumbling, signalling intruders, that he was all too quick to disappear without bothering to help fight them.

You cursed out his mother in your head as he vanished within a flash of light, pocket-watch in hand and a quippy remark on his lips.

The ninjas began appearing out of nowhere and despite there being the five of you, you were confined to a small space, and they multiplied like pests until the whole hull was full of them. It obviously didn't help that Ben 10k chose then to transform into humungousaur, taking up the remaining of what little space you had.

You didn't even have enough time to come up with a good strategy before you were being attacked with multiple opponents at the same time. It didn't take much to disarm one of them, now using their own swords to attack them.

There were too many and they just kept appearing. Your eyes bounced around the room, trying to figure out how to get the upper hand in such a cramped space.

Your older self, having the same idea, sprinted across the room, disarming as many soldiers around her as she could. Although, there was something odd about the way she moved.

She was at the same strength level as you were. After 20 years, shouldn't she be more adept than you were? Ben was capable of using his arsenal of powers without even transforming into any aliens, but she didn't display any remarkable feat of strength.

It was almost as though she wasn't able to. An injury perhaps? Maybe she was still recovering? You bit your lip, slashing the sword through another ninja. If you could find out what caused it, maybe you could prevent it from happening to you.

"Stay out of this, (Y/N)!" Ben 10k snarled, voice booming through the room and causing slight vibrations in the metal due to his size.

You paused for a second, sharing a glance with your boyfriend, who seemed equally surprised. Your future self, unbothered, continued to stampede through the other opponents until she reached the switch to the hangar and flipped it open.

Immediately the hangar opened, and you braced yourself, holding onto Ben's car that had been strapped down. Ben had the same idea, holding onto the handles and pressing his front against your back, making sure you were both anchored down.

The ninjas flew out of the jet, the vacuum of wind deeming too much for them and you watched them disappear, one by one, as they capsized through the air before the hangar door finally closed again.

"What the hell were you thinking?! That was so incredibly reckless—"

"Stop talking to her like that!" Your Ben interrupted his future self, wedging himself in between your future counterparts and glaring at him, "You're acting like an ass instead of apologizing! If I were you, I'd be on my knees begging for her to take me back!"

"Take me back? What are you—We're not broken up!"

Ben's eyes widened at this before he turned to your future self, "And you'd stay with someone who'd treat you like that?"

The woman in question sighed, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, "Try not to be too upset, Ben. He's not usually like this. He's just mad—"

"I'm not mad at (Y/N)." Ben 10k argued, crossing his arms and everyone raised a brow, they clearly didn't believe him. Your future self merely gave him a blank stare before he caved.

"Alright fine, I'm mad at you." Hardly a surprise, "Need I remind you that we just left our son all alone at our home that was just attacked by a bunch of ninjas?"

Ben's jaw dropped open hearing that. Our son? He had a son? With the love of his life no less? This whole time he thought that there was nothing but disappointment and heartbreak for your future together but now he's finding out that he had a family with the girl he was in love with?

Funny that it was only this morning he was claiming that he was too young to be thinking of such things and yet, the thought had his heart swelling.

"I checked on him before we left, no one even made it to the hallway outside his room. Besides, when we go back, we'll be taken to the exact moment we left, not even a fraction of a second later. Kenny will be fine."

"It would be nice if you could show some concern at least." He huffed, "You're not even worried about the fact that we just left our newborn alone. All you're thinking about is this mission and you're putting yourself at risk."

Future you rolled her eyes, sighing as she took a seat on ship, "Here we go again."

"Oh, forgive me for worrying about my wife. Where do I get the audacity?" Her husband shot a glare at her.

Gwen's eyes flitted between the two of them, only able to see the similarities between their relationship in the future and also in the present. Her cousin apparently got married and started a family with the girl she didn't think was good enough for him.

Would Ben still not be able to see what a mistake he's making, even after a decade? Or was she the one who wasn't able to see clearly?

"(Y/N), you just gave birth five weeks ago and you haven't fully recovered. You're supposed to be taking it easy, not fighting some crazed time traveller. "

No wonder she was moving at a slower rate than usual, she was still in her post-partum recovery. For a woman who just spent the last 10 months of her life growing and then providing for a living, breathing human, she fought impressively well. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"Firstly, I can take care of myself. Secondly, Paradox didn't ask before zapping us back here."

"Fair enough but I want you to be on the sidelines for the remainder of the mission unless absolutely necessary." He folded his arms, giving a firm stare that meant he was being resolute. Your future self held his stare for a second before coming to the realization that not much would deter him.

She sighed, "Fine."

A pleased smile made its way to his face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Excellent."

"You're a lot of work, Tennyson."

"Right back at you, Tennyson."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, choosing to keep the information that you found his impish grin at the thought of a future with you adorable a secret and instead asked, "Did you really think that we had broken up in the future?"

His brows went toward his hairline, "You didn't? They were practically at each other's throats the whole time."

"Firstly, they're each wearing wedding rings, and second," You walked over to your future self, reaching for her collar and pulling out a familiar chain from underneath her shirt, "I saw this the second she got here."

Ben blushed, "You still wear it? It looks a little different though."

"I replaced the gem." She explained, toying with the pendant.

"Why?"

"It's her son's birthstone." "It's my son's birthstone." Both (Y/N)'s said in unison and the others gave you a bewildered stare.

"How'd you know?"

You shrugged, "Because that's something I would do."

***

Once again, you were all left in the middle of the desert at night after Paradox abandoned you one again and you continued your line of curses about his entire family in your head as you trudged back to the jet to call a team of plumbers to get you home as well as begin repairs to the jet that was damaged in the fight.

Kevin followed you closely to try and see if there was any way he could repair it just enough to get you back to Bellwood. Ben was about to enter as well when he was stopped by his cousin, who seemed sheepish enough that he immediately knew what the conversation was going to be about.

"I owe you an apology, Ben. I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment and for thinking the worst of you and (Y/N). You both make a cute couple."

He nodded, "It's okay, I didn't exactly have faith in my own relationship when I immediately concluded that they had broken up."

"I'm sure the conversation we had this morning didn't help either, don't feel too bad about it."

He nodded once again and they dissolved back into silence before she gave him a teasing smile, "So, a son, huh?"

His cheeks went warm, and he gave her a look mixed with both embarrassment and a little bit of pride, scratching the back of his neck with a meek chuckle, "Yeah, I always pictured myself as a girl dad though."

Her grin went even wider, and she laughed, "I thought you said you were too young to think about things like this?!"

***

*Exactly Twenty Years Later*

Ben peeked his head into the nursery to greet his beautiful son that was most likely asleep after being fed and changed, only to find the room empty and crib missing.

His mind knew that if his son wasn't in his crib then he would obviously be in the arms of his mother and yet, as he sped to your shared bedroom, he felt a slight panic thrum through his veins.

Everyone had brought this to his attention time and time again; that he had become extremely high-strung when it came to his family. Especially since you had gotten pregnant. It was only when his son was on the way did he realize just how fragile everything was and how quickly it could be ripped away from him.

He passed his arm over the sensor at your door, it immediately recognizing the signal from his Omnitrix and unlocking the door before entering, finding you settled on your bed, Kenny clutched close to your heart.

You watched him cross the bedroom in long strides and settle on the mattress beside you, saying nothing about the clear distress that you had seen on his face when the door opened before it was flooded with relief. You understood; you had felt the same way, which is why you had rolled your son's crib into your bedroom so you could keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.

You turned your gaze back to the baby in your arms, gently tracing his features with the tip of your pinkie finger, watching with a deep fondness and adoration as Kenny's little face would scrunch up every time you caressed his button nose.

"He's okay, right?" Your husband questioned, needing your reassurance for the last bit of worry for his son to evaporate.

"You think I'd be sitting here without a care in the world if he wasn't?" You murmured, not lifting your eyes from his precious face.

Ben chuckled at this, "Yeah, like that time he got the hiccups, and you couldn't sleep the entire night because you kept checking on him in four-minute intervals?"

"What if his little diaphragm got fatigued?" You mumbled; brows furrowed at the thought. Constant hiccups were painful to deal with as an adult, you could only imagine how painful it would be for a baby who didn’t know what the pain was or how to communicate his pain to his parents.

Ben didn’t respond, already having been through this conversation with you the very night it happened.

The two of you continued to watch your son in silence, finding every single little breath he took interesting as you continued to graze your finger over his skin, now tracing the outline of his little lips, the bottom lip tucked tightly into his mouth as he slept.

Ben shifted closer to you, taking the two of you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the side of your head as one of his arms came to support yours and bear the weight of your son as well.

"I'm sorry for saying that you didn't care about Kenny and only the mission. I know you worry about him more than you express, and I appreciate everything you do for the both of us."

"You were just lashing out of worry." You replied, leaning against him, "It was the first time we both left our home without him, even though we didn't technically leave him alone for a second. I felt uneasy about it as well."

"Regardless, I shouldn't have said that you didn't care, Kenny and I know you love us."

"I do."

You quietened down immediately when your son took a big breath, slightly stirring before he fell back asleep, the littlest smile on his little face.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

#ben tennyson x reader #ben ten x reader #ben tennyson imagines #ben ten imagine #ben tennyson imagine #ben ten omniverse #ben ten ultimate alien #ben tennyson #ben ten alien force #ben 10 imagines #ben 10 af #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 x reader #ben 10 fandom #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben tennyson headcanon #ben tennyson oneshot

[mikachacha]

fr in need of some angst. maybe a plot where y/n (y/n gotta be taller though cause we need more stories like that 😭) is secretly in love with bada and did everything for her but bada never knew. one day, when y/n was gonna confess by giving bada a letter while visiting bebe practice. they ended up getting in an argument and y/n leaves and ends up getting in an accident. then you can make up the rest lol

ALSO SO HAPPY UR BACK <33

𝚁𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You were about to confess to Bada about how you truly feel about her but it didn't end well.

T.W.: angst, mentions of accident, death, just so much tear for this one.

(A/N: This is a femme! Bada x Masc.! Reader. And if y'all are familiar with the movie Rewind, this is kinda like that with some elements from Marry My Husband because I can't stop watching it 🥹🥹🫶🫶)

⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳

You have always loved Bada, even when she wasn't famous yet. You have been in love with her since you were both in highschool. You did everything for her, supported her in her dreams and continued to be there for her in hopes that maybe one day she'll love you back. Hoping that maybe someday, she'll accept you and the love you have for her.

You took off your helmet as you arrived at the studio where Bada and the rest of team Bebe are practicing. You planned on giving a letter to Bada, confessing your feelings to her but your plan was quickly ruined by Bada herself. She went up to you, grinning and you already know that she had set you up on a date with someone at the studio. Perhaps a staff or a student.

"Bada.. I already told you that I'm not interested." you sighed and Bada was also getting annoyed because you keep on rejecting the people she sets up for you.

"Why not? You keep rejecting the people I think that's good for you.. I'm only concerned about you, Y/N." Bada says and you couldn't help but feel frustrated because Bada is so dense. She doesn't even realize that you didn't want anything else because she's all that you want. Not some random person she sets you up on a date with.

"Because I'm not interested, Bada! Jesus.. Just how many times are we going to go through this for you to finally realize?!" You couldn't help but air out your frustration and with that, started a huge argument between you and her. You just stormed out, crumpling out the letter you made for her and getting on your motorcycle, speeding off.

Your head was filled with lots of thoughts, mostly self pity because you're such a fool thinking Bada could ever love you back when all she could give to you was friendship. You were lost in your thoughts not even realizing that you were over speeding until it was too late to slow down. You swerved your motorcycle to the side to avoid a cat who suddenly crossed the road. That's all you could remember before everything went dark.

Bada couldn't believe how you acted but she did feel bad for arguing with you after you stormed out. She tried to run after you yet she was too late as you already left. She was about to head back inside to get her phone so she could call you but then she noticed a crumpled up piece of paper near the trash bin. She picked it up and recognized your handwriting so she read it. She could feel her heart break reading the letter you made for him. She felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realizing your feelings.

"Shit.. Shit.." Bada ran back inside the studio to grab her phone. She tried calling you but it goes straight to voicemail. When she was about to give up, somebody picked up.

"Do you know Y/N? Please come to the hospital. She got in an accident." Bada felt her heart drop after hearing what had happened. She didn't even care to grab her other belongings, she just rushed to go to the hospital to see you. Her heart was racing against her chest and her tears won't stop falling down her face. She even saw your motorcycle being towed while she was on the way to the hospital. The sight made her wanna throw up. It was so wrecked that it's going to be a miracle if you survived the crash.

When Bada arrived at the hospital, they told her that it was too late. The injuries you sustained from the crash were too great and they weren't able to save you. Bada walked inside the room where your lifeless body laid on the hospital bed. She held your hand, sobbing, crying and just begging you to wake up.

"Please.. Y/N, please. Please wake up.." She cried out, still holding on to your hand. She hugged your lifeless body, telling you how much she loves you and she regrets arguing with you earlier.

"If I could just turn back time.. If I could just turn back time, I would.. I wish I was able to tell you how much I love you and how much I care about you rather than being stupid.. I love you, Y/N.. Please come back to me." Bada sobbed, still unable to process that you're really gone.

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Bada woke up from the sound of her alarm blaring. She was confused. She didn't remember going home, the last thing she remembered was that she was in the hospital, hugging your lifeless body and trying to fight off the staff who tried taking you away from her. She couldn't help but cry as she remembers that you're really gone and the last memory you had together was you and her arguing.

Bada was snapped out of her thoughts when her phone lit up again, indicating a text message. It was a message from you greeting her a good morning. She was confused when she noticed the date and time. It's still the same day but hours before your accident.

"Did I just go back in time?" was all she could think of. It gave her a glimmer of hope, maybe she's given a second chance to finally tell you about her feelings. If that was the case, she knows for sure that she's not going to waste it.

She immediately prepared to start the day but she planned on making this extra special. If this truly is your last day to be with her, she wants to make sure that you feel loved and valued by Bada. She bought your favorite drink and the first snack you shared with her in high school , she even wore the hoodie you lent her that she didn't return.

When you arrived, Bada immediately greeted you with a hug that got you all confused. She hugged you like it was the last hug that she'll ever give to you. She held back her tears as she didn't want to freak you out too much.

"Come on, let's eat. I have something to tell you." Bada held your hand, lacing your fingers with yours as she dragged you along.

"Let me guess, you're going to introduce me to someone again.." you sighed but let Bada drag you along. You couldn't help but smile seeing how small her hand is compared to yours, you find it adorable. And the way your normal sized hoodie looked oversized on her made your heart swell with joy.

"Nope! Actually I have something to tell you." Bada says and makes you sit down on a chair while she takes out the foods and drinks she purchased from the paper bag. You raised an eyebrow as you saw she bought your favorite drink and a snack you once shared with her during highschool. You remembered it was when you saw her crying as she was rejected by the dance club so you shared your snacks with her to make her feel better.

"Please don't tell me that you wanted me to join your group or fill in for a member who's absent.." you couldn't help but groan at the thought. It's not that you couldn't dance but it's because you looked like a sore thumb dancing with them due to your height.

"No! I like you, okay? No. I'm in love with you, Y/N.. Ever since you skipped your own class just so I'll have a partner during a graded performance because my partner bailed out last minute. I wasn't sure if what I felt about you is true but a lot of things made me realize that I truly love you.. Not just because you helped me and supported me with my dreams but you were the only person who showed me what love should really be like." Bada confessed and you looked at her, you were rendered speechless as you didn't know that she felt the same. You just thought that she was just acting that way because you're friends and you helped her a lot, never because there were any romantic feelings involved.

"I.. Wow.. I didn't know.." it felt like your brain had short circuited and you couldn't find the right words to say. Bada didn't even care since she knows you feel the same way. She looks up at you, eyes filled with unshed tears as she took in the image of you, alive and well. She pulls stands on her toes and presses a kiss on your lips, promising to cherish every moment she's given to be with you because no one knows what the future holds.

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