#/remembering his walks by the river
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amberedcorpse · 27 days ago
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Duke lives in a perpetual state of missing home and being glad he´s not there anymore. Missing the place, it's sights and sounds, but not the people who lived alongside him in that tiny house. Glad that he made them "disappear", glad that he destroyed every branch of his family with his own two hands...But the place, it's trees, the earth and the river-- all of it still haunts him.
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combeferres-mothematics · 9 months ago
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Anyone else ever get randomly smacked in the face with memories and immediately want to go write a kid fic?
Or is it just me?
#Aka Emile is remembering going camping with his friends as a small child#And how fucking chaotic it was#We were just allowed to run wild over the whole campground because our group rented the whole loop and everyone was watching out for everyo#I still managed to cross like 2 roads when I was 5 and got lost and they weren't busy but a stranger still stopped me to ask if I was lost#And all the boys would bring their lightsabers and nerf guns and we would have whole battles#We even made little forts in the woods and stuff and we were fighting to protect the 'dragon' (friend's dog)#I was always either the spy or the doctor#There was also the time my brothers thought it would be really fun to tell me to just pee in the woods instead of walking me to the bathroo#I was delighted#My parents were not#And the swimming hole was cold as fuck but we somehow still got in it every year#And jump off the giant rock in the deep end of the river once we were good enough swimmers to handle the current#Once or twice we went tubing there too which was my first experience with that#And there was hiking with waterfalls nearby so we'd go do that#And that one swinging bridge that was really fun to run across#And we'd stay for like a week sometimes#I swear all the parents got the best sleep ever when we went too even though they were sleeping on the ground lmao#all us kids would end up in each others tents if they were okay with it#And all I can think looking back at it now is that a les amis kidfic would be fun to write off all that#Emile's chaos#I have so many more camping memories too
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krispiecake · 1 year ago
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my baby sister accidentally dropped half a bourbon biscuit into my dog’s water bowl and bc he’s stupid he got rlly confused and just stared at it for 7 full minutes. I was facetiming my mum and she turned the camera round so we could just both watch him try and figure it out while we talked. Eventually he just tried to eat the soggy bourbon that was more like chocolate mush and we had to intervene. We are unsure how he is still alive though he shows no signs of kicking it so. you know. thats the update on the idiot.
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crushmeeren · 5 months ago
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omg but imagine secretly giving the mha boys aphrodisiac chocolate and seeing how they react..
No but you’re RIGHT…. ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭
𝛏 Master List Link 𝛏
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Katsuki would stare at you with narrowed eyes when you hold your hand out and offer the piece of chocolate to him, your gaze wide and innocent until he pops the candy in his mouth.
Katsuki would be in a meeting not too long after, jaw clenched and teeth creaking when his uniform pants get too fucking snug for no reason. His cheeks will flush bubblegum pink, biting the head off of some hero he can’t remember the name of when asked what’s wrong.
Why the fuck can he only picture you face down and ass up in the air?
Why does he have to sink his nails into his thighs to hang onto his last thread of self control and restrain himself from palming his stiff cock when he thinks of your pussy split open for him?
Why the hell is sweat running down his temples and along his jaw like a goddamn river??
He doesn’t know.
What he is certain of, is his plan to tackle you to the bed as soon as he gets home. To cum the second he slides his achy cock inside your tight pussy, and then to fuck you until neither of you can stand to climax one more time.
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Eijirou would happily accept the chocolate, humming in delight once he begins chewing.
Eijirou would then be relaxing with you on the couch, using every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the movie you’re watching together. His cheeks would turn as scarlet as his hair and he’d try to hide his face with the loose strands when you glance at him.
He’d squeak out that’s he’s fine when you ask if he’s feeling feverish. He’ll clumsily cover his cock with large hands, knees knocking into one another when he tries to close his legs.
Eijirou would whimper in your ear “fuck, I’m sorry baby, I need your pussy. I can’t stop myself,” as he gives in to the heat churning in his belly and bends you over the armrest of your couch to fuck you like a dog.
You’ll babble and gasp it’s okay, crying out his name when he makes you orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time — only for his dick to remain hot and full after he’s already cum inside you so much that you’re sure you’re going to get pregnant.
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Shouto would take a bit more convincing. He doesn’t ordinarily eat chocolate, but he’s willing to try it if you’re the one presenting it to him.
Shouto would be leisurely walking alongside you in the grocery store, occasionally making noises of agreement as you tell him about your day.
Shouto would suddenly freeze mid stride, becoming rigid in the middle of the aisle. He’ll blink owlish eyes at you several times when you turn back to question what he’s doing.
You’ll snap your fingers to get his attention when he starts to stare at the swell of your tits for way too long instead of listening to you, cheeks filling out with a blush when he meets your gaze.
The next thing you know, your half full grocery cart is abandoned in the aisle and you’re yanked by the wrist back to your car in the parking lot.
Shouto would mutter breathlessly “sorry baby, I can’t seem to control myself,” when he gets your pants off, leaving the material to dangle from one ankle before tugging you down to straddle his lap in the backseat.
He’ll unbutton his pants and shove them down far enough to free himself, not bothering with your panties and sliding them to the side as he sits you down on his cock and let’s out a low moan.
Shouto will match your every move, thrusting upwards harshly each time you sit down. He won’t give a single fuck if someone walks past the car, he just knows he needs your pussy to keep swallowing his cock until the insatiable burn in his lower belly subsides.
It takes…awhile.
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simpforboys · 2 months ago
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nobody leaves rafe cameron
toxic!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: after a series of arguments with your boyfriend, he has to remind you of your place when you try to leave him.
warnings: toxic relationship, very toxic and mean rafe (meow), arguing, smut, cnc, dacryphilia, choking, degrading, praising, dirty talk, a pussy slap, unprotected piv sex (errr no no), creampie, angst, a lot of swearing, trying to break up, talking bad about your partner behind their back
this takes place episodes 4x1-3
tell a friend to tell a friend, she’s backkkk
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he was so fucking mean.
all you and him had done in the past few months is bicker and argue.
the week had already been shitty, but when Rafe told you he was going to compete in the Kildare BMX Race, you wanted to be a supportive girlfriend.
key word: wanted.
Rafe was tuning up some stuff on his dirt bike, dressed in all black. you sat on the sand next to him, just admiring him as he worked.
it was rare for him to wear all black, and the look was driving you insane.
“you gonna keep starin’ at me?” Rafe teases softly.
“mhm.” you hummed, grinning.
the announcer came on to say there was about five minutes til the race so everyone should head over to the start.
“hand me my helmet, would ya?” Rafe asks.
you stand up, wiping the sand from your denim skirt and grab his black helmet. you hand him it, feeling his large hand come down to help wipe some of the sand off your ass.
“there you go,” he coos.
“good luck, baby.” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
he just mumbles a soft thank you, slipping on his helmet as he starts the bike’s engine, switches gears, and takes off over to the starting line.
➽───────────────────❥
the race had been going smoothly. Rafe was in first the entire time…
until JJ Maybank decided to jump the river bank, landing in front of Rafe.
you watched anxiously, cheering on for your longterm boyfriend. but when Rafe’s front wheel collided with JJ’s back wheel, the two guys crashed and were flung off their bikes.
the rest of the racers zoom by, causing Topper to win.
“oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, running over to where Rafe was on the floor.
“are you okay?” you ask, trying to help him up. he shrugs you off of him, too clouded by anger.
he storms over to where John B and Sarah are with you hot on his tail.
“get used to it.” Rafe grumbles, causing John B to look at him.
“what’d you say?” John B asks, clearly frustrated. when Rafe doesn’t respond, he shoves him.
“what’d you say?!” John B repeats, louder this time as Rafe shoves him back.
“get used to it! get used to it, alright? this is forever, ya’ll don’t get to win!” Rafe yells as Sarah steps in between her brother and husband.
“you could have killed each other!” Sarah scolds.
“Rafe, c’mon, please.” you ask pleadingly, tugging on his arm.
yet again, he shrugs you off. due to the sand being uneven, the small movement was enough to cause you to fall on your ass.
but Rafe didn’t notice, or, didn’t seem to care as he continued to shoot insults at Sarah.
you were now pissed as you stood back up, and then it seemed like your boyfriend remembered you were together.
he tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders for support, still aching and hurt from the crash.
you just shrugged him off, storming away.
“y/n!” Rafe calls after you.
➽───────────────────❥
he somehow managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants the day after the race.
but when you and Rafe walked into Topper’s little celebration party at one of the villas, Topper embraced Rafe into a hug, clearly drunk from the intense game of beer pong.
“you see him? his dad shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin.” some girl mutters to her boyfriend.
unfortunately, Rafe overheard.
“leave it—“ you started, but he was already going over to the girl, who was now backing up against the wall.
“what’d you say?” he asks, the girl’s boyfriend pushing Rafe back.
“go away, Rafe.” the boyfriend grumbles, but Rafe doesn’t back down.
“no, no, if you have something to say, say it to my face.” Rafe slaps his cheek for emphasis, but Topper and you move to pull him back.
“hey, relax, okay?” you tried to say, watching him grab a bottle of alcohol and start drinking it.
“just— just get the fuck off of me right now.” Rafe says coldly, obviously pissed off about the situation.
you grit your teeth, a pit forming in your stomach as you bit back a response. but you obliged, walking away from him.
➽───────────────────❥
yet again, he managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants, reassuring you that he’s just going through a lot of stress about the deal with Hollis.
but the final breaking point was when your father had came to you about pushing Rafe towards his teetering decision about becoming Hollis’ partner.
you immediately said no, not wanting to go behind your boyfriend’s back. so when you drove over to the yacht club Rafe was at, you found him sipping on a margarita with Topper and Ruthie.
“what about your girlfriend?” Ruthie asks, making you stop in your tracks.
it was wrong to listen in on his conversation, but a part of you wanted to hear what he had to say about you.
“who, y/n?” Rafe asks, making Ruthie nod.
“she’s not my girlfriend… we’re just hookin’ up, ya’know?” Rafe murmurs, drinking more of his margarita.
a pain started to form where your heart was, a deep frown on your face as he spoke.
“i thought she moved in.” Topper furrows his brows.
“she’s not going to move in… i would never live with a pogue, i have standards.” he explains, making Ruthie and Topper laugh.
that was your breaking point, the point where you were ready to throw the past 19 months away.
because clearly if he couldn’t even respect you to his friends, he doesn’t respect you at all.
you turned on your heel, trying to leave when you accidentally knocked into a server, causing a glass to fall down.
you swore under your breath, ducking out and leaving. but unfortunately, your boyfriend is tall, and he was able to see your head.
“awe, shit.” he cursed quietly, drinking the rest of his beverage before walking away.
“y/n! y/n.” Rafe calls out, jogging to catch up to you.
“no, Rafe! i’m fucking done!” you yell, storming to your house that was only a few blocks away.
Rafe runs in front of you, grabbing your hips to stop you from moving. “the hell you mean done?”
“are you dense? we’re over.” you snap, trying to pull out of his grip.
he clenched his jaw, laughing bitterly.
“i don’t know what you think you heard, but-“
“i don’t think anything. i know you just basically said you could never take me seriously as a girlfriend since i’m a pogue.” you cut him off, lip trembling as you wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek.
“i didn’t mean it like that, baby.” Rafe coos, just trying to charm his way back.
“no, stop. it’s not going to fucking work, Rafe. i’m serious… we’re done.”
“no, we’re not.” Rafe says, his voice dangerously low.
“yes, we are,” you spit.
Rafe roughly grabs you, pushing you into the back of his car. once you’re inside, he moves on top of you, grabbing your throat with his hand.
“you think you can just leave me?” he laughs piercingly, his face barely a few inches from yours.
you didn’t respond, causing him to squeeze your neck. “i fucking hate you.”
“no, you don’t.” Rafe murmurs, unbuttoning your shorts, pushing them down your thighs.
“stop, Rafe-“
“no, you’re going to fucking listen to me!” Rafe yells, forcing you to stare up at him.
“nobody leaves me, you understand?” he asks, his voice breathy and dark.
chills ran down your spine, your eyes wide in fear as your body trembled.
“you fuckin’ understand?” Rafe reiterates, barely slapping your clothed cunt.
“y-yes,” you whimper.
“good girl. now, ‘m gonna fuck this pussy because ‘s mine, yeah?” Rafe says, not really asking.
all you do is nod in response, hating how your clit is throbbing with need.
“you’re lucky i’m not gonna make you suck my cock right now… just wanna remind my girl that she will always be my girl.”
he’s rambling as he shoves his shorts down just enough for his dick to sprang free. he’s always been well endowed, with an 8.5 inch cock, a pretty pink tip, and two prominent veins you always loved to lick on.
“wearin’ these fucking panties… you wanted this, huh? wanted to come and try and make a fool outta me?” Rafe grumbles, pulling the pink lace to the side to reveal your drenched cunt.
you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes from the situation. you were hurt, angry, and fucking horny.
Rafe wastes no time in sliding his cock into your hungry hole, his hand tightening around your throat.
“mhmm, my girl ‘s always so hungry for me. look at this slutty hole suckin’ me in,” he purrs.
he pushes his hips until your clit is pressed against his pelvis, a few tears rolling down your cheeks with your lip in a pout.
“that’s a good girl… fuckin’ cry for me.” Rafe grunts, starting to piston his hips as he fucks you in the backseat of his car.
your hands gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat and the headrest of the back, pretty eyes fluttering shut as your cunt clenched around him.
“yeah… look at you clenching f’me… so needy for this dick.” Rafe coos, forcing you to look at him.
“open your mouth.”
you don’t oblige at first, too overwhelmed in pleasure and the fact that you’re getting fucked by the same man who just talked shit about you.
he uses his fingers to open your jaw, spitting in your mouth. “when i tell you to do somethin’, you fucking do it. swallow.”
you swallow his spit, pussy fluttering around his relentless cock.
“good girl.”
“Rafe— fuck…” you pant.
the car shook as he pounded into your soaping cunt, his balls slapping against your ass.
“tell me who this slutty pussy belongs to.”
“y-you, Rafe… my slutty pussy belongs to you.” you trembled, hand gripping his forearm as he continued to apply pressure to your neck.
“you understandin’ that you can never leave me? that you’ll always be Rafe Cameron’s whore?” he coos, his eyes dark, voice low.
you nod, body shaking as your breathing grows heavier.
“that’s what i thought… all you needed was a good fuckin’ and you’re all well behaved n shit.”
his mean words were turning you on more unfortunately, your belly tightening with each rough thrust.
but when he took his hand off of your neck, beginning to toy with your aching clit.
“look at this clit… all swollen n throbbing f’me. fuck, you’re such a needy whore.” Rafe grunts, his cock twitching inside of you.
all you could do was nod, dizzy and lightheaded from pleasure.
“is my girl gonna cum f’me?” he coos tauntingly, the pad of his thumb flicking teasingly on your hard nub.
“p-please… please, Rafey…”
he moans at the nickname, losing his composure for a second as his balls clench, trying to hold off his orgasm until you explode on him.
“come on, baby. cum on this dick.”
at his approval, you let the coil in your stomach snap. you whimper loudly, clinging onto anything you can reach as your body trembles beneath him.
your orgasm triggers Rafe’s, pussy walls fluttering around him so deliciously he has no choice but to cum inside you.
“take this cum… take my fucking seed.” he groans, hips stuttering as he fills you to the brim.
you pant, vision blurry and suddenly needy for water when you begin to come back down from cloud nine.
you pulled him down into a soft, tender kiss, panting into each-other’s mouths.
Rafe leaned forward, grabbing a half empty water bottle from the cupholder you had left there as he unscrews the cap, holding the hole to your mouth.
“drink,” he murmured.
you happily complied, the water soothing your throat.
“good girl,” he hums in approval.
you couldn’t help but clench around him at the praise, and Rafe’s head fell slightly at the feeling, a proud smirk tugging on his lips.
he knew he was training you so well, even if you needed a reminder every now and then <33.
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fishofthewoods · 9 months ago
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I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"
Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.
In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.
In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.
In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?
In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.
The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.
And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?
And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?
Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.
The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.
The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.
They always come home eventually.
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thewriteadviceforwriters · 5 months ago
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25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1
Hey there!📚✨
As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.
But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.
Power of Rhythm 🎵
One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:
a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.
Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."
b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.
Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."
c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.
Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)
Paint with Words 🎨
Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:
a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.
Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."
b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.
Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."
c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.
Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."
Choose Your Words Wisely 📚
Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:
a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.
Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."
b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.
Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."
c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.
Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."
Play with Sound 🎶
The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:
a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.
Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."
b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.
Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."
c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.
Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."
Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️
How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:
a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.
Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."
b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.
Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."
c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.
Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."
Power of White Space ⬜
Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.
Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.
Inside, a single word.
'Yes.'"
Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️
One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.
Edit Ruthlessly ✂️
Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.
Study the Masters 📖
Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.
Practice, Practice, Practice 💪
Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.
Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.
Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:
Create a Word Bank 🏦
Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.
Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣
There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.
Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."
Power of Silence 🤫
Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.
Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."
Play with Perspective 👁️
Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.
Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.
Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️
While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.
Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."
Create Contrast 🌓
Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.
Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."
Use Synesthesia 🌈
Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.
Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."
Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊
Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.
Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️
When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.
Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."
Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️
While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:
Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."
Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨
Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.
Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."
Play with Time ⏳
Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.
Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."
Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁
Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.
Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."
Create Word Pictures 🖼️
Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.
Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."
Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭
Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.
Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy
Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.
Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.
Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T
Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!
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acoazlove · 4 months ago
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A New Place
Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Summary: Your birthday felt ruined until you met someone new.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Angst
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They forgot. They forgot that it’s your birthday.
You really couldn’t blame them considering they all have their own lives and issues to deal with, but it didn’t make it any easier.
The main problem you have isn’t really that they had forgotten your birthday, it’s actually that they had celebrated every other holiday and birthday no matter what was going on. They dropped everything for everyone. Except for you.
So to say it hurts is an understatement. The forgotten sister, as per usual. Always left behind and pushed to the side. You suppose it makes sense considering you’re the youngest of your sisters. Always pushed to the side, whether it was intended or not.
For the last three years, things had gone from bad to worse, to just about perfect for your family. But not for you, you felt like a burden. Birthdays are supposed to be special, to celebrate whose day it was. It certainly didn’t feel like it right now.
Wandering through the River House, not a single soul in sight. Everything felt too quiet. No breakfast being made, no presents—not that you expected to get any—and none of your sisters to greet even. They were who you wanted to see right now.
Instead, you make your way to the kitchen and grab an apple instead. As you were about to leave to go for a walk, you hear loud laughing coming from the front door. In walks your sisters, their mates following close behind.
As they make their way to split off from each other, you only get a few smiles and greetings. Nothing else. That’s how you know they have forgotten. So you give them a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Once they’re all out of the doorway, and not giving you a second thought, you take that as your sign to finally go for your walk. The walls now feel incredibly claustrophobic.
What you don’t notice is a certain pair of hazel eyes studying you as you tug on your coat, and pull the door open. The spymaster’s calculated gaze, noticing everything no matter how discrete you think you’re being. His shadows agitatedly circled him as you passed the threshold.
Dress brushing the cobblestone streets of Valaris as you stroll down and take in your surroundings, relishing in the fresh air and sunlight warming that previous coldness you felt from the negative start to the day.
Walking past shops, bakeries, and cafes. Passing an oh-so-familiar bookstore before doubling back to head into. You think that maybe browsing for an hour or so could help brighten your already tiring day. Without realising you’re already ambling your way over to the shelves.
Picking up many books, reading their synopsis, and then putting them back in their previous places, you finally find a book that interests you. Feyre’s money isn’t mine. A sour taste fills your mouth at that thought, so you decide against getting it.
Exiting the lovely bookstore with a wave to the cashier you think it might be time to make your way back to the house. Maybe you’ll be able to fix up some food once you’re back. Mindlessly dawdling you through the crowded streets, then deciding to take the long way. There’s no need to be home any earlier than needed.
Moving by stores you’d never seen or heard of before, peering in through the windows, but not daring to go in. A sign catches your eye, ‘Benny’s Bar’ read above the doorway. From the outside, it looks similar to one that you remember in the human lands, just not nearly as beat up. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, hopefully, they’re not too expensive.
You enter, not giving yourself enough time to argue, and the strong scent of alcohol quickly invades your senses. Ignoring it you meander over to the bar.
The interior is much nicer than what you see from the street, with dark wood floors, and the walls a deep shade of green. The same wood as the flooring extends up the wall behind the bar, lined with long shelves, and all kinds of liquor. The tables scattered around the room were well worn, in a charming and homey way, with mismatched chairs pushed under them. Old paintings that seem to have been passed down for generations are pinned up around the room. The lights dim but not dingy, giving the place a warm glow without being too bright.
Passing by the fae, face down on the tables, and loud groups either brainlessly arguing with one another or laughing their asses off, either way, their conversations were unintelligibly slurred. Glancing at the clock hung above the door frame, you wonder just how long they had to have been since it’s only two o’clock. A loud breath escapes you, registering that you’re joining them. Disregard that thought and slide onto a stool regardless of the depressing realisation.
You finally grant yourself a minute to have a proper look at the people working. A large, muscular, older-looking male is behind the bar pouring out drinks, while also barking orders at a couple of younger males out the back, in the kitchen. A tall, black-haired female, her face lips set in a firm line, as she saunters around the room, handing out the drinks the larger male poured. Another stocky male makes his way around the room to wipe down tables and booths, while also pushing in chairs and picking up dirty plates and empty glasses
But the fae who sticks out to you is a female with deep blue skin, and hair a darker navy shade as she walks by some large cabinets with a heavy-looking crate in her arms. Once she notices your presence, a charming smile stretches across her lips and makes her way over to you. Your lips quirk up in response.
“Hi, Love, what can I get you?” her voice has a lovely rasp to it. However, your face heats for an entirely different reason, not having any experience with taverns in general, but also not much with alcohol either.
Contemplating your answer, your hands wringing together in your lap, “What do you recommend?” your words come out softer than intended. Her smile softens slightly, and it makes you tense up, now feeling out of place. “Don’t drink much?”
Her words cause a soft huff to pass your lips. “Not really.” your shoulders slump forward, but her smile brightens once again as she heads over to the alcohol-filled shelves that line the wall behind her. Grabbing a bottle of clear liquid, and a tall glass. She takes the lid off with a pop, and pours out a small amount, slowly sliding the glass across to you. She watches you, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
You pick up the drink, lift it to your nose, and instantly recoil. The smell felt like it singed your nose hairs. A soft chuckle escapes the female's lips. “I wouldn’t recommend sniffing it,” she leans over the counter as if to tell you a secret, “It’s easier if you down it in one go.”
With a slight nod, you lift the glass to your lips, follow her advice a down it in one go. It burns your throat as it slides down, and your nose scrunches slightly in response. “Didn’t taste easier.” a snort escapes her. “Unfortunately this bar doesn’t have any of the fancy sweet drinks that others do.” Your lips curve up. “I’m Benny by the way.” The Owner. Your grin grows a little and you give her your name.
Hours later you’re in the same spot, conversation is flowing easily with Benny—who hasn’t left her spot behind the bar since you entered. Refill your drinks when needed. The alcohol is easier with every drink you have. The bad morning your day started with is like a distant memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see It’s now dark out.
Sloppily turning to the clock to see the time—11:30—then back to face the female in front of you, now aware of the fact that you had spent your entire birthday in a tavern, you let out a long sigh. Benny tilts her head to the side from the sound, but as she opens her mouth to speak you beat her to it.
“It’s my birthday.” you blurt out, words coming out slurred, but you brush it off and continue. “My entire family forgot. Didn’t even wish me a happy birthday before I left the house.” a small sniffle followed your words.
Benny frowns. “I know who your family is, honey,” you stiffen and she resumes. “You never know, they could have a surprise birthday waiting for you.” trying to lighten your mood at least a little bit, and it makes you straighten briefly before your shoulders curl inward once again. Not believing her words. And by the way, Benny shifts on her feet, you know she doesn’t even believe it.
“Unlikely,” you mumble. Finger swirling around the edge of your empty glass. Benny lets out a huff, tapping her fingers on the wooden bar before she turns around and grabs a different bottle from the shelf, a rich brown one. She also grabs another glass before turning back to you.
She pours a generous amount into both glasses, and rather than bringing it straight to her mouth she holds it in the air, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. So you mirror her movement. She clinks her glass with yours, “To you! Happy Birthday, Love.” Both of you finish your drinks in one go.
“Thank you, Benny.” Looking over your shoulder another sigh exits you. “I should head back now.” Turning back to her. She nods.
As you slide off your seat, swaying as you straighten your dress, readying to leave. “If you need a place to stay, I have an apartment upstairs that needs an owner.” she offers just as you are about to turn away. “I know I don't know your current situation, but a new place to stay might do you some good.” A smile tugs at your lips.
“I don’t have money to pay for it,” You reply. Yes, your sister and her mate have more money than one ever could imagine, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d owe them if you used any more of it than just drinks you had today.
Benny dismisses your words with a wave of her hand. “Don't worry about that, I have an opening to work here.” she gestures to the bar. “If you don't, I could always help you find a different one.”
Your smile softened slightly. “Thank you, Benny,” repeating your words from earlier. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
And with that, you wave her goodbye and exit the tavern. Swaying and stumbling drunkenly over the uneven cobblestone streets, as your mind churns with the thoughts that your family are most likely gathered in the living room, after sharing a lovely family dinner. They’ll probably judge you for the fact that you had a couple of drinks too many, that thought makes you feel a little queasy.
After a long time of manoeuvring your way through the nearly empty streets, you finally find yourself staring at the front door of the River House. Dread fills you thinking about what kind of conversation you’re about to have.
With a heavy sigh, you push the door open, stepping inside. The first thing you hear is their loud laughter. The door closes behind you louder than expected, and you grimace. The voices quiet down as you stumble your way towards the sitting room. From the doorway you see all heads turn to you. Everyone’s here. Even Lucien and Varian are seated next to their partners.
“Y/N!” Feyres's cheery voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Your back.” You step closer, her nose flares subtly, and her smile falters. But Nesta’s the one who says something. “You smell like a Tavern.” Her tone is sharp enough to make you flinch.
“I had a couple of drinks.” your reply words slurred, shrugging your shoulders drunkenly, and an uncomfortable silence follows.
“More like the whole bottle.” Mor seemingly trying to lighten the mood, her joke makes a couple of people snicker.
“We didn’t even notice you were gone.” Amren deadpans. Heads whipped in her direction at her statement, ready to scold her. “It’s true. Don’t even try to deny it.” Her voice is harsh.
Your brows pull together at the fact that no one tried to argue, and your nonchalance falters, giving way to frustration and anger at the entirety of the situation and your ruined day.
“It’s my Birthday.” your voice a near growl. Everyone’s eyes widen both at your admission and at your unusual tone of voice. Usually so soft-spoken, and gentle. The complete opposite of right now. Another disappointment.
“I was willing to chalk it up as stress from your own lives.” Your breathing ragged. “But you've been sitting here for hours and like Amren said, you didn’t even realise I was gone for something as small as a family dinner!”
Your eyes flit around the room as you continue, “Oh, and not to mention the fact that you have all taken the time to celebrate every other holiday and birthday! I guess my day isn't important enough to remember compared to the festivities that hardly even get recognized by the general public!” You practically spat your words.
Now you take a moment to look around at them. Feyre’s face is contorted in guilt, Elain looks as if she might cry, Nesta’s staring at her lap, and everyone else is either wide-eyed or unable to meet your gaze.
The lack of response further fuels your rage. The only person who looks as if they might say something is Azriel. His usually stoic features falter, but he hesitates. A look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite make out. Not wanting to linger on that any longer, you turn your gaze back to the rest of them.
You scoff. “Nothing?” Looking up at the ceiling, too many emotions are warring in you and are far too much for you to handle in your drunken state.
At the extended silence, you turn on your heel and make your way back to the entrance. No one even calls after you. That's enough for you to grasp the fact that you can't stay here. Not anymore.
The door slamming behind you, rings throughout the house. It didn’t matter as the cool nighttime air slammed into you, the lingering effects of the alcohol wearing off entirely.
Your arms wrap around yourself to keep the cold out as you amble down the streets of the City of Starlight, the stars shining above you now not bringing the same comfort as they once did. Once again you find yourself outside a familiar building. Making your way inside, Instantly finding who you unconsciously were looking for.
Benny turns towards the entrance as the door shuts, her face falls as she takes in your expression. She quickly makes her way to her, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you to a more private corner of the tavern.
“Is your offer still on the table?” Your voice is hoarse and watery. Benny gives a nod, ushering you passed the kitchen and up a set of stairs.
A new place. Already feeling more at home than with those who are supposed to care for you.
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a/n: I know there isn’t any interactions between Az and Reader yet but there will be! This didn’t come out exactly how I wanted, so I might came back to this at some point, and there might also be some spelling mistakes. The editing took longer than expected so sorry for the delay. I’ll try and get a part two out as soon as I can, hope you enjoyed. <3
taglist:
@tiredsleepyhead @blackgirlmagicforever
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victorluvsalice · 2 years ago
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How about a nice hike around one of Gilbert Gardens's walking paths? After checking out the routes on offer, I decided that a stroll by the arboretum to end the day would be the nicest, and sent the group over to the start of the path --
Only for Victor to use his broom to get there right away, and Alice and Smiler to jog. *facepalm* My fault for both using the "go here together" option when I should have had them all try to teleport there separately, and for forgetting that Victor prioritizes his broom for travel over long distances. So poor Victor was stuck waiting for his partners to come join him at the head of the path for quite a while -- long enough that, by the time Alice arrived, he'd given up and was preparing to go for a walk on his own. Whoops. Fortunately I was able to quickly cancel the interaction and reset up the group walk, and after a moment's dithering, the gang started off --
Only for the thunderstorms, held at bay for the entire afternoon, to come back with a vengeance. *sigh* They kept at it for a few paces, but soon the rumbling of thunder made them stop in their tracks. Welp, nothing for it but to just head home, right?
Sort of -- while I did have them return to their home lot, I wasn't quite done with them going out and about for the day. Once they arrived back at the farm, I looked around and found a nice picturesque spot by an old mill house situated on the river not too far away. I had everyone head over (THIS time using the separate teleports to make sure they all got there roughly about the same time), then had Victor and Smiler chat and flirt for a while to fulfill the Party Spirit tradition for Victor (Alice, who cares not for that tradition due to her Loner trait, did a little scavenging in the dirt nearby). And then. . .
Well. As it turns out, having Wonderful Whims in your game means that in addition to polyamory -- you can have Sims married to multiple people. So, with Alice looking on, Victor went ahead and proposed to Smiler. And Smiler said yes. <3 :D Granted, they were a TOUCH ambivalent about it in their moodlets because they prefer non-exclusive relationships (as per Lumpinou's Open Love Life mod) and getting married does feel a bit on the "exclusive" side, but they love Victor and they're happy to commit to him. And of course Victor is thrilled to be married to both his partners. :) So, yeah, that's the other reason I wanted to do this update this week -- we've got a wedding coming up! A true Valicer wedding, in fact, as I'm already well aware that married couples can use wedding arches to renew their vows... ;)
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prythianpages · 11 months ago
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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel
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summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.
warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡
a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.
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As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight. 
Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.
More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours. 
Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this. 
“Who are you?”
Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.  
“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.
“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”
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Months before…
The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.
Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”
“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”
“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.
You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.
“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”
“Did you specify which one?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”
The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.
“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”
“Have you seen it?”
Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.
“Perhaps.” 
With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you. 
“How come I haven’t seen it?”
“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes.  “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”
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Back to the present…
Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.
As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.
Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.
“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.
A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.
He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.
The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.
“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.
Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath. 
"And who might you be?"
“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”
Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.
“Your help?” She echoes.
"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.
Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.
"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"
"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.
Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”
“Let me show you.”
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Months before…
“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”
The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.
You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”
“You spoil me.”
“It’s what friends do.”
"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."
With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.
"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."
“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”
"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,
Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”
You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”
“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.
“I’m not ready.” 
You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.
That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.
“You do not fear me?”
“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.
In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.
He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.
As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.
“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”
Your throat tightens. “When?”
“Soon.”
And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one. 
“The tracking…I knew of it.” 
Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”
Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.
Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears. 
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–
“Do you see it now?”
With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.
You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.
“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.
The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.
“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”
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Back to Present
Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.
“Release her.”
The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.
Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.
“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”
Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.
And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.
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Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.
While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.
But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.
Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?
Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.
And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.
"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.
"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.
But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.
Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.
You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.
But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.
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“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.
“You missed dinner.”
“Oh.”
You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.
“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.
"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.
 "Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."
"That was two weeks ago.”
"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you. 
Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"
"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."
You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.
His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."
"Why?"
“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”
An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”
Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”
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Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.
Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”
“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.
“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”
“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.
“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”
Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.
“Stop!”
Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.
“I’m not hurting her!”
But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.
“Are you okay?”
There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”
Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.
"Like what?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.
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A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side. 
Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.
“You’re not going to Starfall?”
“Good morning to you too.”
Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.
“Is everything okay?”
His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.
So you settle for a, “Why?”
"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"
The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed.  "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.
"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."
"I don't have a dress."  The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.
“I’ll buy you one.”
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.
“Starfall is tomorrow.”
Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it. 
“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”
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You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.
You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.
Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.
“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”
A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.
“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.
“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”
“Starfall.” Azriel answers.
The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.
“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”
“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.
Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”
You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.
It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.
“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”
“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.
She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”
A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.
The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.
“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.
On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier. 
“I li–”
“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”
He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.
Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.
As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.
"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.
“It’s 500 gold marks.”
He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”
He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.
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Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. 
In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.
"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.
“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”
“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”
He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.
Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.
“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”
The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.
"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.
He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.
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Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.
"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.
A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."
Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"
“Yes.”
A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her." 
Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."
He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.
Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.
“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.
Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.  
In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.
Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.
“Azriel.” You smile at him.
“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”
“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.
Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.
“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”
Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”
“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”
“Why?”
A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.
“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.
“I’m right here.” 
Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.
Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.
Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.
"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."
Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.
"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."
"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."
“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you.  “Am I not your friend?”
“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”
“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more. 
You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.
“What else?” 
“There’s nothing else.”
“y/n.”
“I feel like a failure.”
Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.
“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”
“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”
“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”
“Hey, look at me.”
When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”
“Together?”
He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.
“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his. 
And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.
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Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.
Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.
You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions. 
Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.
And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.
You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.
The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.
After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.
You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.
Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.
You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.
He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.
Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.
Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.
“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play. 
Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.
"Elain, I can't--"
“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."
His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”
“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”
Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.
Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.
Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.
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The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.
As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.
"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.
"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"
Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”
You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.
“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.
Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.
“You're going to get frostbite."
Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."
"We should head back inside," you suggest.
"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."
The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."
Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”
“Cas.”
Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.
“You’re lying.”
“You fell for it."
And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.
“I fell for you.”
You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."
"What?"
Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—
“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”
“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.
The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.
And then you're kissing him.
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The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.
For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.
Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.
You are his mate. 
The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.
“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.
“I have to go.”
“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.
“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.
For now, he has to find you.
His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.
“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”
“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”
You swallow thickly. “You know?”
The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?
Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.
“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.
“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
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a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!
tagging: @hellodarling1357
if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.
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supernovasilence · 2 years ago
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Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too
They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.
They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.
It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.
(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)
Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.
Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)
Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)
Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)
Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah
Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.
But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.
Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.
"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.
Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.
(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)
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yvesette · 2 months ago
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BUZZCUT. | ── [ j.jh ]
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── ⭒ staring .ᐟ ౨ৎ  jaehyun x afab!reader
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   ₊ ˙ ✃ ⋆  † ⠀๋⠀₊ -
SUMMARY: ── in a bittersweet farewell, the night before your close childhood friend jaehyun leaves for military service you both take a walk along the han river as well as navigate your complicated feelings for each other.
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GENRE: friends to lovers, SMUT (18+, mdni), angst, fluff, idol!jaehyun CW/TAGS: dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, spanking, hair pulling, reader is refered to as a girl, praising, bigdick!jaehyun WORDS | 6.8k A/N | this is in honor of jaehyun's enlistment - enjoy !!
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‪  ゛ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒 ◌ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
── the night is cool against your skin, a gentle breeze wrapping around you as you walk down the narrow streets, winding your way toward the river. your steps are deliberate, even though your heart thunders against your chest. you’re thinking too much, and you know it, letting each thought flicker and fold over the last like waves, endless and unknowable, churning somewhere deep inside you.
it’s been a long time, you think. a long time since you first saw him, all easy smiles and casual charm. a long time since you first felt that jolt of something you didn’t yet have a name for but that, in hindsight, you recognize as love. you’ve never told him, not once—not in all these years of close calls and almosts, of lingering touches and moments that you always held on to longer than you should have.
you inhale deeply, trying to slow the pace of your thoughts, but each step closer only winds you tighter. the han river glimmers faintly in the distance, a line of silver beneath the night sky. and there, by the water’s edge, is jaehyun. he’s leaning against the railing, looking out at the river, his face partially shadowed but somehow softer, framed by the quiet of the night. the sight of him, so familiar yet distant, almost pulls you to a stop.
there’s something about him tonight—a weight you hadn’t noticed before. it’s as if he, too, is looking to hold on to everything here, everything he’s about to leave behind. and yet, he doesn’t turn to look at you until you’re almost right next to him, his gaze steady as he catches your eye.
“you made it,” he says, that soft, reassuring warmth in his voice. his smile, though, is smaller than usual, like there’s something unsaid between you both, lingering just below the surface.
“i made it,” you answer, and you try to keep your tone light, but it comes out quiet, touched by an edge you didn’t mean to reveal. you’ve imagined this moment—this last chance to see him—over and over in your head, each version of it different. and yet, standing here now, everything you thought you might say seems to slip through your fingers.
he watches you carefully, that subtle intensity in his gaze, as if he’s trying to memorize the way you look, standing there in the glow of the distant city lights.
he clears his throat, breaking the silence as you both start walking along the path that follows the river's edge. “how’ve you been?” he asks, giving you a sidelong glance. it’s a simple question, and yet the softness of his tone makes it feel like he’s asking for something more, like he’s trying to make up for all the times he’s missed out on in the last few months.
you smile, shrugging lightly. “same old, same old. work, school—nothing too exciting. but you, mr. idol, you’ve been busy.” jaehyun chuckles, the sound low and warm, as he brushes his hair back with one hand. “yeah, i guess that’s one way to put it.” he looks down at his shoes for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “we were doing concerts. that’s why i’ve been, you know… hard to reach.”
you nod, already knowing. his life has been moving at a different pace—one that has taken him across oceans, into arenas filled with fans chanting his name. it’s a reality you’ve grown used to, but still, there’s a tiny ache whenever you remember how separate his world can sometimes feel from yours. but tonight, it’s as if none of that matters. tonight, he’s here, and there’s only the two of you.
“still can’t believe that’s real,” you say, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “remember when you wouldn’t even sing in front of me?”
jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “i was terrible back then. don’t lie to me.”
“no, i’m serious!” you grin, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “all those late nights, trying to get you to sing while we were ‘studying’ for exams. it was tragic—”
“oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” he interrupts, nudging you back with a smile that’s both embarrassed and pleased. “you’re making me sound hopeless.”
“hopeless? maybe a little,” you tease, watching his face light up in a way that feels achingly familiar, like something you want to freeze in time. “but i guess you’ve come a long way, huh?”
he nods, a soft hum in his voice. “feels like forever ago, though. remember the first time we stayed out all night? trying to find that coffee shop you swore was ‘just around the corner’?”
you laugh, covering your mouth at the memory. “and we got so lost! i was ready to give up, but you…” you trail off, looking at him with that same warmth, thinking of the way he had insisted on keeping on, even when you both had practically wandered into the outskirts of the city.
“i wasn’t about to let you down,” he finishes, a hint of pride in his voice.
the two of you continue walking, memories spilling out as naturally as the river flowing beside you. nights spent at convenience stores with cheap ramyeon and cola; that one time he convinced you to go to karaoke and made up for years of not singing; all the secrets you whispered between laughter and yawns, half-asleep in the early morning light.
and yet, despite the familiarity, tonight is different. the laughter dies down quicker, and each memory feels like a bittersweet treasure, something you’re both afraid to hold too tightly for fear it will slip away. you’re acutely aware of every step, every glance, every brush of his shoulder against yours. it’s all slipping through your fingers, each second a reminder that you’re both on the brink of a sort-of goodbye.
the quiet stretches out between you as you walk, and though his hand rests loosely in his pocket, jaehyun’s other hand rises to press his fingertips to his mouth, lost in thought. his gaze wanders out over the river, his usual warmth dimming, replaced by something heavier. it lingers in the air around him, that tension, that uncertainty—like the night itself is waiting to exhale.
“honestly… i don’t know what to expect.” his voice is lower now, almost a whisper that the wind could easily snatch away. “everyone says you just get through it. that it’s over before you know it. but…” he trails off, his words floating into the dark like something fragile and fleeting. “it’s strange, thinking that life just… pauses. for two years.”
you walk a few more paces, silent, each step a reminder of time slipping by too fast. you look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hold onto the image: the faint furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw, that expression he wears when he’s trying to seem brave but doesn’t quite manage it. and your own heart twists at the sight of him—of jaehyun, here with you, with all the things you’ve never said pressing against your chest. but you push it down, that ache, until it’s tucked somewhere deep inside you. instead, you reach out, letting your hand rest on his arm, feeling the warmth of him under your fingertips.
“you’ll be okay yuno,” you say quietly, feeling the words reverberate through you, anchoring you to this moment. “you’ve always found a way to be.”
he looks at you then, really looks at you, like he’s seeing something for the first time. there’s a hint of disbelief in his eyes, almost as if he wants to question what you’ve just said, even using his real name - to pick it apart. but he doesn’t. he just nods, a faint, grateful smile tracing his lips.
“sometimes i think you believe in me more than i do,” he murmurs. “like you’ve always known something i haven’t.”
you want to say something to that, to answer, to reach through all these walls of silence that have built up between you over the years, but you don’t. instead, you only look back at him, holding your smile steady, letting the quiet carry all the things you can’t say.
after a moment, you find a bench tucked away at the edge of the path, overlooking the river’s glimmering surface. the world around you fades into the background, and for a brief moment, it’s just the two of you, suspended in this fragile stillness. as you sit, jaehyun turns toward you, his fingers brushing against yours before he takes your hand fully, squeezing it gently.
“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he admits, his voice steady but low, a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface.
your heart races at the contact, warmth spreading through you like a soft glow. you’re on the verge of confessing everything—the weight of your feelings that you’ve kept hidden, the love that has thrived in the silence between you. but you hold back, unwilling to add any more emotional weight to a goodbye that’s already too heavy. instead, you meet his gaze, trying to capture this moment, every detail of him etched in your mind—his soft features, the way his eyes reflect the shimmering river, the gentle press of his hand against yours.
jaehyun clears his throat, breaking the quiet between you. “it’s getting cold,” he says, his voice soft, almost reluctant. “i’ll walk you home.”
you nod, and without another word, you both stand, falling into step beside each other. the silence between you now is thick, layered with the things neither of you have said, and each step you take feels heavier, like the night itself is pressing down, reminding you that this is the last time—for a good while—that you’ll have him beside you like this.
the streets are emptier now, just the distant glow of streetlights casting long shadows as you walk side by side. you can feel the tension building, each step drawing you closer to the inevitable. your hand brushes his once, and though neither of you speaks, there’s a quiet comfort in that brief, familiar contact. when you finally reach your apartment, you stop, and jaehyun does too. he stands there, looking at you with an expression you can’t quite read—something mingling with the sadness in his eyes, a softness, a question, maybe. and he hesitates, his hand hovering just beside yours as if he wants to reach for you, as if he’s searching for something in your face that he’s not sure he’ll find.
jaehyun’s gaze flickers, lingering on you as if he’s committing every detail to memory. he rubs the back of his neck, breaking eye contact for a second before looking back at you.
“so…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, carrying the weight of all the unspoken words between you. “guess this is it, huh?” you force a smile, nodding even though it feels like your chest is tightening. “yeah. tomorrow.”
he bites his lip, his eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to make this moment last longer. “it’s just… i don’t know. doesn’t feel real yet.”
you swallow, the words caught in your throat. “it doesn’t,” you reply softly, your voice barely steady. “we’ll still call and text all the time…and if you want we can hang out every other weekend or something.”
jaehyun’s expression softens, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, sad smile. “you’ve been there for everything,” he says, his voice quiet, almost as if he’s admitting a secret. “since we were kids. it’s hard to think of… going through something without you around.”
your heart races at his words, and you force yourself to hold his gaze, even though every instinct tells you to look away, to hide what you’re feeling. “i’ll still be here,” you say, and the promise feels fragile, yet unbreakable, hanging in the space between you.
he lets out a small breath, his hand lifting as if on instinct, brushing your cheek, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “i know you will.” his voice catches, and for a moment, you see something raw in his eyes—a tenderness that feels almost too much to bear.
you stand there, suspended in the silence that follows, the weight of everything unsaid filling the space between you. and before you can second-guess yourself, before you can think of all the reasons not to, you close the distance, pressing your lips to his. his hand slips around to the back of your neck, gentle but firm, as if grounding you both in this moment, and he kisses you back, slow and unhurried, like he, too, is trying to capture everything he feels in this one breath, this one touch. the kiss starts softly, a gentle brush of lips that feels almost tentative, as if you’re both testing the waters of this new territory. but as the world around you fades, that initial hesitation melts away. the warmth of his hand cradling your neck sends a shiver down your spine, igniting something deep within you that has long been simmering beneath the surface.
jaehyun's lips are sweet, tinged with the warmth of honey and a hint of smoky undertones from the cigarette he smoked earlier. his lips move against yours with increasing urgency, a mix of longing and a bittersweet awareness that time is slipping away. you lean into him, feeling the solid weight of him against you, and it’s as if every memory, every unspoken word, pours into that moment—every shared glance, every moment of laughter—colliding in time.
jaehyun deepens the kiss, tilting his head slightly, and you feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, igniting a fire that spreads through you. it’s a heady mix of sweetness and heat, and you find yourself responding instinctively, matching his intensity, losing yourself in the sensation of him.
your heart races as you feel his fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him as if he fears letting go. the world around you blurs, the distant sounds of the city fading into a dull hum, leaving only the two of you, caught in this fragile moment that feels both infinite and fleeting.
breathless, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his, the warmth of his skin lingering. your eyes meet, and in that charged silence, a shared understanding pulses between you—fragile yet undeniable. with a shaky breath, you fumble for your keys, the metal cool against your palm as you unlock the door, hands trembling. jaehyun steps in behind you, his presence a comforting weight, solid and unwavering in the dim light.
the moment the door closes, he's there, pulling you close again. his lips find yours in the dim light of your apartment, urgent and needy. you melt into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he walks you backwards toward the couch. the familiar scent of his cologne envelops you, a heady mix of leather and lillies that makes your head spin. your legs hit the edge of the couch, and jaehyun gently lowers you onto the soft cushions. he follows, his body a comforting weight above you as he settles on top of you.
“god, i’ll miss this,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your jaw. then, without another word, he kisses down your neck, his lips trailing warmth that ignites every nerve in your body. you gasp softly, feeling the heat radiate from him, his touch igniting a fire deep within you.
“jaehyun…” you breathe, your voice a mixture of longing and urgency. “i wanna remember this.”
his kisses trail back to your lips, deepening as he pours everything he feels into the moment, as if to make sure you both carry it with you, etched into your hearts. “are you sure?” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, “that you want this.”
you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i promise," you whisper back, “i’ve thought about this for so long.”
jaehyun’s eyes soften, a blend of tenderness and desire flickering within their depths. he shifts slightly, fingers finding the hem of his shirt, and you hold your breath as he pulls it over his head, revealing the smooth contours of his chest and abs. the dim light from the street outside casts shadows that accentuate every curve, transforming him into a living, breathing sculpture.
without thinking, your hands reach out, tracing the lines of his torso as if drawn by an invisible thread. his skin is warm beneath your fingertips, a tangible warmth that makes your heart race. you marvel at the firmness of his abdomen, the subtle ridges etched from countless hours of dance practice and grueling workouts.
a soft hitch escapes jaehyun’s breath at your touch, his gaze darkening with desire as he watches you explore. hesitantly, you reach for the hem of your sweater. jaehyun's eyes follow your movements as you slowly pull it up and over your head, revealing the delicate lace of your bra underneath. the cool air of the apartment raises goosebumps on your skin.
jaehyun's gaze is reverent as he takes in the sight of you. his fingertips ghost along your collarbone, tracing a feather-light path down to the swell of your breasts. you shiver at his touch.
“is this okay?” he asks softly, his hands hovering at the clasp of your bra, the question hanging in the air like a fragile promise. you nod, unable to find your voice, the weight of his gaze anchoring you as he leans closer, a whisper of breath brushing against your skin.
with gentle fingers, jaehyun unhooks your bra, his touch reverent as he slides the straps down your shoulders. the fabric falls away, revealing your breasts to his gaze. his eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of you, vulnerable yet unafraid beneath him.
"so fucking pretty," he murmurs, voice husky with emotion. he lowers his head, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your neck. his lips trail downward, leaving a path of warmth across your collarbone. when he reaches your breast, he pauses, his breath hot against your skin. then his mouth closes around your nipple, drawing a gasp from your lips.
his tongue swirls patterns as he sucks gently, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. one hand cups your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. you arch into him, a gasp escaping your lips. one of his hands kneads your other breast as he lavishes attention on the first. the dual sensations make your head spin. jaehyun releases your tit with a soft pop, his eyes meeting yours as he begins to trail kisses down your body. his lips brush against your sternum, then trace a path down the center of your abdomen. each touch is feather-light yet charged, sending shivers cascading through you.
he takes his time, mapping the landscape of your skin with worshipful attention. his tongue dips into the hollow of your navel, eliciting a soft gasp. you feel the curve of his smile against your skin as he continues lower, his teeth lightly scraping your sensitive flesh.
jaehyun's fingers trace along the waistband of your skirt, his touch light as a whisper. he looks up at you, eyes dark with desire but still seeking permission. "can i take this off?" he asks softly, his voice low and loving.
you nod, breath catching in your throat as he slowly unzips your skirt. he slides it down your legs, his hands caressing your thighs as he goes. the cool air raises goosebumps on your newly exposed skin.
jaehyun's gaze travels over you reverently, taking in every curve and dip of your body. his fingers ghost along the lace edge of your panties, barely touching. "you're so beautiful," he murmurs, “let me take care of you baby.”
he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, just above your knee. then another, slightly higher. his lips trail a path of fire up your limbs and when he reaches the edge of your panties, he pauses, looking up at you with dark, desire-filled eyes. "god, you're so wet," he murmurs, his voice low and cursing. "fucking soaked, all for me.."
his fingers trace along the damp lace, barely ghosting over your most sensitive areas. even that faint touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you. you squirm slightly, desperate for more contact and whimper.
"such pretty noises," he purrs. "i wonder how you'll sound when i really touch you."
"please," you whimper, not even caring how needy you sound.
a slow smile spreads across jaehyun's face. "please what?" he asks, his tone commanding. "tell me what you want, baby."
"touch me," you gasp. "please, i need you to touch me."
your breath catches as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. with agonizing slowness, he slides them down your legs, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. the fabric clings to your damp skin as he peels it away, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.
jaehyun's eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail. his hands caress your thigh, “perfect fucking pussy, better than i ever imagined..” he praises, before his tongue finally makes contact with your folds, you gasp at the sensation. he starts with long, slow licks, savoring your taste as he explores every inch. his hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he works.
jaehyun's tongue swirls around your clit before sucking gently, sending waves of pleasure through you. he alternates between broad strokes and focused attention, building your arousal steadily higher. you thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him where you need him most.
jaehyun holds your trembling thighs firmly apart, his strong hands steady and warm against your skin. his touch is gentle yet insistent, opening you up to his hungry gaze. jaehyun's tongue delves deeper, parting your folds and exploring every sensitive ridge and valley. he hums softly against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your core. his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, anchoring you as pleasure builds within you.
you feel the heat of his breath against your most intimate places as he works, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on your clit. each pass sends sparks of sensation coursing through you. your hips begin to rock involuntarily, seeking more friction.
"such a good girl," jaehyun murmurs against you, his voice low and husky. "i love how you taste."
he slides one finger inside you, curling it upwards as his tongue continues to lavish attention on your clit. the dual sensations make you gasp, your back arching off the couch and you curse.
jaehyun slides one hand up your body to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. the added stimulation heightens every sensation, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as your hips begin to move of their own accord.
you arch your back, grinding against his mouth as the tension mounts. soft whimpers and gasps fall from your lips, growing more desperate as you climb higher. jaehyun redoubles his efforts, sucking your clit between his lips as he slides another finger inside you. the dual stimulation has you seeing stars. his fingers curl, finding that perfect spot inside you as his tongue lashes your clit. you cry out, your hips bucking against his face as the first waves of orgasm crash over you. jaehyun doesn’t stop, only slows his efforts as you come down from your high. after you catch your breath, he moves his head from your thighs and moves up over you to kiss you.
jaehyun's lips meet yours in a deep, sensual kiss that is almost like a thank-you from you. you taste yourself on his tongue - tangy and sweet with a hint of musk. as he presses his body closer, you feel the hard length of his cock through his sweatpants, hot and insistent against your thigh. the thin fabric does little to conceal his arousal. the heat of him sears into your skin, igniting a fresh wave of desire low in your belly. your hands roam over the planes of his back, tracing the lean muscles there. his skin is fever-warm, and you pull back from kissing him to look down at the print of him through his pants. you make eye contact, and there’s a question hanging in the air along with the heavy breathing of you both.
you break the beat of silence, “i want to,” you say, giving him the permission that he needed.
jaehyun pulls away slightly, his eyes still locked on yours, the heat of the moment lingering in the air. with a quick, decisive movement, he gets up from the couch, the dim light casting soft shadows over his form.
“condom?” he asks.
“it’s in my bedside table,” you reply, watching him as he nods and strides toward the bedroom.
as he disappears from view, the atmosphere shifts. you stare up at the ceiling, feeling the room spin slightly, an unexpected loneliness settling in without his presence. the faint sounds of the city outside filter in, but they feel distant and hollow compared to the warmth he brought just moments before.
a part of you aches for him, for that connection you’ve both been dancing around for so long. time stretches as you wait, heart pounding in your chest, your thoughts swirling with anticipation and uncertainty.
finally, he returns, the confident smile back on his lips, and in his hand is the small foil wrapper. the moment he steps into the light, the heaviness in the air dissipates, replaced by a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. you sit up as he slips down his sweatpants and boxers.
as jaehyun's sweatpants fall away, your breath catches in your throat. his cock springs free, thick and hard, jutting proudly from a nest of dark curls. your eyes widen, taking in the impressive sight before you. he's long - longer than you expected - and girthy, the shaft curved slightly upward. the head is flushed a deep pink, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. the sight of him, fully aroused and wanting you, sends a fresh wave of heat through your core.
you swallow hard, a mix of desire and nervousness fluttering in your stomach as he gives it a few pumps, wrapping his veiny hands around his length and then slipping the condom on.
you lay back against the arm of the couch, heart pounding as jaehyun moves over you. his eyes are dark with desire as he positions himself between your spread legs. you feel exposed yet safe under his gaze.
jaehyun braces one hand beside your head, using the other to guide his cock to your entrance. the latex-covered tip brushes against your sensitive folds, making you gasp. he runs it up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness. when he reaches your clit, he circles it slowly, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you.
jaehyun's eyes lock with yours, his gaze intense and full of longing. the air between you is charged, buzzed with anticipation. he runs the tip of his cock along your folds once more, coating himself in your slick heat.
"god, you're so wet for me," he murmurs, his voice rough. "such a good fucking girl, all ready to take my cock.”
his praise sends a shiver down your spine, arousal pooling low in your belly. your breath catches in your throat as he begins to push forward, stretching you slowly inch by delicious inch. you gasp at the fullness, your body adjusting to accommodate his impressive girth. he moves with careful control, giving you time to adjust. when he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, letting you adjust to his size. his breath is ragged against your neck, his body trembling slightly with the effort of holding still. his breath ghosts over your skin as he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "that's it, baby," he praises, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "take me in. you're doing so well."
you whimper softly, rocking your hips to encourage him to move. jaehyun takes the hint, slowly withdrawing before thrusting back in. he sets a steady rhythm, each stroke long and deep.
"fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice low and husky in your ear. "such a perfect little pussy, taking my cock just right."
jaehyun's thrusts become faster and more urgent, his hips snapping against yours with each movement. your bodies move together in a perfect rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"yuno," you moan, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he pounds into you, “feels so good, oh my god.” he leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he continues to move inside you.
jaehyun's thrusts grow more powerful, driving deep into your core with each movement. the couch creaks softly beneath you as he picks up the pace. you feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the delicious friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.
his hands grip your hips tightly, angling you to hit that perfect spot inside. you cry out as he brushes against it, sparks of sensation radiating outward. jaehyun groans in response, the sound low and primal.
you can feel the tension building in your lower belly, a coiling heat that threatens to consume you. jaehyun must sense it too, because he redoubles his efforts. his hips snap against yours forcefully, driving into you with renewed vigor.
just as you're teetering on the edge, jaehyun slows his movements, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in torturously slowly. you whimper at the change of pace, your body aching for more. he repeats the motion several times, drawing out each thrust until you're writhing beneath him.
"please," you gasp, "i need more."
jaehyun kisses you deeply before pulling out completely. "turn around for me, baby," he murmurs, his voice insistent. you listen, adjusting your position until you’re on your hands and knees and he’s behind you.
jaehyun's hands grip your hips firmly as he positions himself behind you. you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you. he runs it along your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.
the anticipation builds as he lines himself up, the tip just barely breaching you. before you can respond, jaehyun snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. you cry out at the sudden fullness, your fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly. he gives you only a moment to adjust before pulling back and slamming in again.
jaehyun sets a punishing pace, his hips pistoning against you. the new angle allows him to hit spots deep inside that make you see stars. jaehyun's hands grip your hips tightly as he pounds into you from behind, his movements growing more frenzied. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your breathless moans and his low grunts.
"god, you feel so fucking good," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "my perfect baby, s-so fucking tight."
his praise sends shivers down your spine, arousal pooling low in your belly. you arch your back, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, brushing against that spot inside you that makes you see stars. suddenly, jaehyun's hand comes down on your ass with a sharp crack. the sting blooms across your skin, quickly followed by a wave of heat. you arch your back, changing the angle slightly, and cry out as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. jaehyun notices your reaction and adjusts his movements to hit that same spot with each thrust.
jaehyun's hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. he grips it firmly, tugging your head back as he continues to thrust into you. the slight pain mingles with pleasure, heightening every sensation. you gasp at the new angle, feeling him even deeper inside you.
"that's it, baby," he growls, his voice low and husky. "take it all for me." his hips snap against yours with renewed vigor, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. the couch creaks beneath you, the sound barely audible over your breathless moans and the slap of skin on skin.
jaehyun's grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back further. “gonna c-come,” you manage to get out. the arch in your spine deepens, changing the angle just enough to hit that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.
“be a good fucking girl and come for me baby,” he says, leaning against your ear. stars explode behind your eyes as waves of pleasure crash over and you scream his name. jaehyun's grunts become more urgent as he continues to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm. he can feel you clenching tightly around him, milking him for all he's worth. with a loud groan, he follows you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he empties himself inside you.
jaehyun carefully pulls out, both of you wincing slightly at the loss of contact. he sits up, running a hand through his tousled hair as he catches his breath. the dim light from the street outside casts a soft glow on his skin, highlighting the sheen of sweat on his chest.
with a quiet grunt, he stands and makes his way to the small trash can beside the couch. you watch the play of muscles in his back and legs as he moves, admiring the lean strength of his body. he removes the condom and ties it off before tossing it in the bin.
jaehyun turns back to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. his hair is a mess, sticking up in wild tufts where you ran your fingers through it. he ruffles it absently, making it even more chaotic. you run a hand through his hair and scowl playfully when you feel how sweaty he is.
"gross," you tease, wiping your hand on his shirt. "you're all sticky."
jaehyun's smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "you weren't complaining a few minutes ago," he quips, his voice low, “and say goodbye to my hair - i’m shaving it tomorrow.”
you feel a blush creep up your neck, remembering the heated moments that led to his current disheveled state, and then a sadness rushes over you - that he’s leaving tomorrow. jaehyun notices your reaction and chuckles softly, pulling you closer. his arms wrap around your waist, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body as he grabs a blanket from the other side of the couch and places it over you both.
"what's on your mind, beautiful?" he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. you hesitate, not wanting to ruin the moment with your woeful thoughts.
"it's nothing," you reply, forcing a smile. but jaehyun knows you too well. his fingers gently tilt your chin up, brown eyes searching yours.
"tell me," he insists softly.
you sigh, your defenses crumbling under his gaze. "i just… i can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. it feels too soon."
his expression shifts, the teasing glimmer fading as he brushes a thumb across your cheek. "yeah, i get it. it’s not easy."
"but what if things change?" you murmur, your heart tightening at the thought.
jaehyun raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "change? as in me forgetting you? not a chance. you think i could forget the girl who drove me crazy for all these years?"
you roll your eyes, but there’s a flutter of anticipation in your stomach. "well, you’re going to be busy with training and everything else."
he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. "busy? sure. but you think i’ll be able to focus when all i can think about is you? not a chance."
your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but tease back. "is that your way of saying you’ll miss me?"
jaehyun chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "it’s my way of saying you better miss me too. because i’m about to confess something."
you lean in, curiosity piqued. "what’s that?"
jaehyun's expression shifts, becoming more serious as he searches your eyes. "i’m in love with you. like, really in love with you. i think about you all the time—when i'm practicing, when i'm on stage, even when i'm just hanging out with the guys. it’s like you're always there in the back of my mind."
your breath catches, the weight of his words settling around you. "but… why didn’t you say anything before?"
he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve come to know well. "i didn’t want to ruin what we have. i thought maybe it was better to keep it as friends. but now? i want to try things with you. i want to see where this goes."
the confession hangs in the air between you, charged with possibility. you can feel your pulse quickening, excitement mingling with uncertainty. "and what if it doesn’t work out? the timing of this is just-"
jaehyun shakes his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "i don’t care about timing. what matters is how i feel, and i can’t let that go without saying something. i want you in my life, no matter how far apart we are."
you raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "you make it sound so easy. you do realize i’m not just some object you can claim when you feel like it, right?"
he chuckles, leaning closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "oh, i’m fully aware. that’s why i’m trying to make my move before someone else scoops you up."
you laugh lightly, shaking your head. "good luck with that. i’m pretty sure no one else would bother trying."
"yeah? you think i’m the only one?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. "you must have a whole line of admirers waiting."
"right, because i’m just so irresistible," you reply, a smirk on your lips. "but let’s be real. you’re the only one who’s actually putting in the work."
jaehyun’s smile fades just a little as he leans back, studying you. "look, i know this isn’t easy. but i don’t want to just be some random fling. i want to be in your life, no matter where we are."
you take a breath, weighing his words. "and if things get complicated? you know they will."
he shrugs, unfazed. "shit’s always complicated. but i’d rather deal with that than let this slip away. you’re worth the trouble."
you meet his gaze, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "okay, i get it. but don’t think i’m going to make this easy for you."
he smirks, the challenge evident in his eyes. "i wouldn’t want it any other way."
-
the morning light filters in through the window, casting a soft glow on the cluttered room, and you find yourself perched on a stool, an electric razor in your hand, staring at jaehyun’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. he sits in a chair, a towel draped around his shoulders, looking slightly apprehensive but oddly amused by the situation.
“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice that doesn’t quite mask the tension beneath. you grip the razor tighter, suddenly aware of how little you know about haircuts.
“i kinda have to,” jaehyun replies, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone, “no long hair.”
you nod and take a deep breath, bringing the razor closer. with a gentle buzz, the razor hums to life, and you press it against his scalp. the sound is oddly satisfying, a gentle roar that fills the small space, and you watch as a tuft of hair falls away, landing softly on the towel draped around his shoulders.
“oh my god!” you squeal, barely able to contain your dumbfoundedness. you can’t help but laugh at the sight of jaehyun’s shocked expression, a blend of surprise and amusement. you can’t stop the laughter bubbling up as you buzz away the rest of his hair, the once dark locks falling in tufts around him. each pass of the razor reveals more of his scalp, and soon he’s left with a clean, smooth surface that glints in the morning light.
jaehyun tilts his head, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “so, how do i look? sexy?”
the question hangs in the air, and without thinking, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips sending a rush of warmth through you. his surprise melts into a smile, and you pull away slightly, a grin still playing on your lips as you meet his gaze.
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mellowwillowy · 6 months ago
Text
Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.
TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre
The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.
What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.
“You are awake now.”
Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.
Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”
The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?
“Was it an allergic reaction?”
“Huh?” he asked, baffled.
“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”
He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.
“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”
Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.
“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”
You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.
His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.
“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.
At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.
Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.
“Oh dear, what happened?”
Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.
“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.
“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”
“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”
He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”
“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.
“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”
Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”
Yulian shook his head.
“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”
Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.
But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.
𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.
But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.
What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.
The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.
It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.
But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.
It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?
𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.
If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.
He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.
Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.
It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.
There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.
Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.
Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.
𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.
You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.
You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.
But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.
For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.
Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.
It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?
𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.
Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.
Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.
He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.
Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.
A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.
Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.
Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.
Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.
𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.
The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.
It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.
But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.
Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.
And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.
Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.
Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.
Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.
He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.
Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.
Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.
The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.
The 'Witch' play ends tonight.
-
You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.
"You are awake now."
His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.
Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”
You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"
"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"
Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."
All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"
Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."
He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"
There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.
"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.
"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.
"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.
"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.
You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."
Contract?
Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.
All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.
𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.
Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.
Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.
While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.
But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.
Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.
It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.
You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.
Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.
He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.
You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.
--
"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"
Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.
You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.
You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.
You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.
You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.
Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.
You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.
You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.
You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.
You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.
You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.
You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.
You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.
You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.
Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.
It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.
Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.
Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.
Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.
It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.
That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?
Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!
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guksfairy · 1 month ago
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pink digital camera | JJK
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SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST
wc: 2.6k
notes: jk and y/n's friends meet, hyeonjae and areum crushing on each other <3, nsfw: they fuck in a parking lot, jk records y/n, jk cums in y/n (STAY SAFE PLEASE)
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“Fuck I’m so hungry,”
“I’d assume so-we’ve been trying to get you out of your studio for the past 2 hours,” Hyeonjae responds to Tag with a chuckle. The two, in front of Jungkook and Jungwon, on their way to Jungkook’s car. It had been a good while since the four friends have been able to have a proper meal together so they took advantage. It took a long time to convince Tag to leave his studio but eventually they succeeded.
Finally reaching the car, the four friends get in with Jungkook as the driver of course.
“Yo JK what’s this?” Hyeonjae, who was sat in the passenger seat, asks holding a pink digital camera. Your pink digital camera. Fuck.
You must have forgotten it in his car from when you both went on a picnic late in the evening to watch the sunset near the Han River. You had commented to Jungkook how you had seen a TikTok of a girl and her boyfriend who bought a camera just to capture their dates and thought it was a cute idea. So after a quick trip to the store, and a couple thousand won later, you had started filming your dates.
Jungkook is taken away from his thoughts when he hears a jingle next to him signaling that the camera had been turned on. Hyeonjae, who was intrigued and looking at the camera’s quality, was completely oblivious to the panic set on Jungkook’s face.
“Is it yours?” Tag asks from the backseat and Jungkook is quick to grab the camera from Hyeonjae’s grasp, placing it gently on his side of the car in the pocket of the door.
Maybe he should have said something because now the three were laughing at his reaction.
“You seeing somebody, Kook?” Jungwon asks patting his shoulder and Jungkook can only clear his throat and shrug his hand away.
“I think our Kook is in love,” Hyeonjae playfully adds and Jungkook replies, “You guys are just hungry,” and turns on the car.
“Sure, that’s the reason Hyeonjae found a pink camera in your car and you got all nervous,” he laughs and leans back in his seat. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks down at the camera that’s slightly visible. Feeling a little better now that the guys were focused on their phones.
Had Hyeonjae pressed the little camera button on the side he would have been met with pictures of you and Jungkook. It’s not something ideal right now.
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“I could probably have finished my song by now,” Tag says, commenting on how long it was taking for their food to arrive.
“Hyung we barely placed our order. It hasn’t even been five minutes,” Jungwon replies laughing at the older’s grumpy state knowing he’ll cheer up once he has some good food in his system.
“Still,” Tag mutters and the rest chuckle.
“Hyeonjae?” A voice from behind Jungkook calls out, grabbing the attention of all the guys.
“Areum!” Hyeonjae is too quick to stand up and slightly bow at Areum in which she does the same. Meanwhile, Jungkook is once again panicked.
Areum was part of your friend group and here she was talking to Hyeonjae for some reason. He had no reason to worry really. He had never talked to her or any of your friends but there had been a couple close calls.
He remembers when you and Areum had to attend a study group with two guys from your guys’ class and how annoyed Jungkook had gotten because he wanted to take you out that night. He had made his way to the library that night and managed to get you to meet him in an area of the library where no one really went.
Let’s simply say you had a steamy meet up and almost got caught. Had it not been for Areum calling your name from afar, Jungkook wouldn’t have gotten the chance to walk a good distance from you while you fixed your skirt and hair.
“Uh Areum these are my friends Jungkook, Jungwon, and Taegyun but we call him Tag,” Hyeonjae, Jungkook had taken notice, was slightly fidgeting as he introduced them. Huh…
The guys all waved and she did the same, “Hi, I’m Areum,” she places a piece of her hair behind her ear, “You guys are welcome to join me and my friends. We just arrived-unless you guys are on your way out,” she says and all three guys look at Hyeonjae for his response.
Wait. Her and her friends? Does that mean you too? Jungkook knew you would be staying in a class later than usual today with a couple classmates but that’s pretty much all he was aware of.
Should he check your location to see if you’re here? Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to when Hyeonjae replies, “No, we just ordered a while ago. We wouldn’t want to bother,”
“No it’s fine! The more people, the merrier,” she says and Hyeonjae can’t say no. Jungkook sees Tag and Jungwon wanting to tease him for getting so visibly nervous.
“Okay,” Hyeonjae follows Areum to the other side of the restaurant and the guys take that as an invite as well. The three get up and follow. Jungkook, at the very back, a bit concerned. How should he act with you in front of his friends? Ignore you? No, he can’t do that very well but he knows he can’t kiss and hug you either.
The guys take notice that the area in which you guys are eating had suddenly become fancier? The chandeliers were different, the area was quieter, and the people around looked like they’ve never seen anything less than a billion won.
He hears it. That sound. One of his favorite sounds in the world. Your laugh. Your laugh that he loves so much. Your laugh that lets him know that everything is okay.
Jungkook visibly relaxes as you come into view. You’re wearing the same outfit from this morning only now you’re wearing a hoodie. You had decided to wear Jungkook’s sweater that he had left in your room a couple nights ago. Noticing that the day was cloudy you decided to be warm and wear his sweater that was too big but comfortable.
“Guys, this is Hyeonjae, Tag, Jungwon, and…uhm I’m sorry what was your name again?” Areum says looking directly at Jungkook. From the corner of his eye he sees you smile, “Jungkook,”
“Right! Jungkook! Oh and these are my friends Eunwoo, Jimin, and Y/N,”
“Will you guys be joining us?”
Hyeonjae says a simple yes and Eunwoo nods, “I’ll go request a bigger table,” he stands up and walks to an employee.
“I should go inform them we switched tables,” Jungwon says and goes up to the same server Eunwoo was speaking to.
The server is quick in telling the group to follow her and lead them to a much bigger table, enough to fit 10 guests.
Your friends on one side and Jungkook’s on the other. This…was weird.
“So how do you two know each other?” you ask pointing to your friend and Hyeonjae. Jungkook feels comfort in your voice.
“We’re partners in digital art class,” Hyeonjae says.
“Yeah Hyeonjae is really funny. Sometimes we get in trouble,” Areum says and you smile but miss the slight pink pigment in her cheeks.
Eunwoo and Jimin conversate with Jungwon and Tag leaving you and Jungkook sat in front of each other, slightly confused of how you two should act right now.
Jungkook decides to take his phone out.
JK: that’s the fourth hoodie you’ve stolen from me pretty
Your phone dings and you smile.
Y/N🎀💓: Stolen? You left this on my bedroom floor 🙄❤️
JK: it’s not my fault i’m always distracted when i go over
Y/N🎀💓: So it’s mine?
JK: when a pretty girl starts kissing my neck and talking about how bad she wants me i just can’t resist 😞
“Jungkook,” Tag nudges his shoulder and he looks up, putting his phone away and aware that the food is being served and his plate was in the server’s hand.
“Oh yeah that’s mine,” the plate is placed in front of him and the server tells them if they need anything to call her over before leaving them to enjoy their meal.
“Sorry about him, he’s been distracted lately,” Tag apologizes.
“Everything okay?” Eunwoo asks and Jungkook nods.
“Our theory is that he’s love sick,” Jungwon says and everyone at the table is quick to ask who it is like they were life long friends. You sit in your seat with your cheeks feeling warm knowing that he’s being like this because of you.
“Is it somebody we would know?” Jimin says genuinely intrigued.
“It’s nothing really,” no matter how badly Jungkook wants to gloat about you, he decides to hold back.
“He says it’s nothing but I found a pink camera in his car earlier,” Hyeonjae says and you audibly gasp.
Areum turns to you and you quickly make an excuse, “Sorry I thought I saw someone I knew,” and you grab your chopsticks and spoon to eat. Jungkook wants to kiss you so bad. You’re so cute.
“So, Jungkook?” Jimin says and Jungkook lets out a chuckle, “This food looks really good,” he starts to grab his utensils and the group lets out a disappointed sigh. You let out a small laugh and his friends make comments like ‘I bet she’s so out of his league and that’s why he won’t tell us’ that make your friends laugh.
Your group surprisingly got along with his very well. There was a couple jokes here and there but overall a ton of laughs. Jungkook always making sure to watch you every time because he loved it. You’d kick his leg gently under the table and he’d do the same. He was just ready to get out of here. It’s been a long hour of you being near him and not kissing you.
Eunwoo and Hyeonjae ended up splitting the tab afterwards and now you were all stood outside the restaurant.
“That was fun! We should do it again,” Areum says and Hyeonjae is quick to answer, “Yeah sure!” Tag laughs.
“Well I hope you guys have a good rest of your days. I’ll see you guys around campus,” Jimin comments and the rest bid their goodbyes. You making sure to subtly send a kiss to Jungkook in which he pretends to catch it and place it on his cheek.
Your group walks in the opposite direction from his and Jungkook can only smile. He’s defiantly going to kiss you nonstop later tonight.
“So Hyeonjae…when are you going to ask Areum out?” Jungwon teases as the four get in the car.
Tag laughs, “Yeah Hyeonjae. Oh Areum of course I’ll eat with you and my friends because you’re so pretty and I can’t help but blush and-” Tag is smacked by Hyeonjae but it only makes him laugh more.
“You guys are idiots,” he says but you can clearly tell his face was flushed.
“You were blushing like crazy every time she talked to you,” Jungkook says driving out of the parking lot.
“Really?” he didn’t even try to deny it this time. Hyeonjae wondered if Areum took notice.
“Yeah but she was blushing a lot too,” and this eases his nerves.
“Anyways I’ll RSVP to the wedding now to save time,” Jungwon jokes and the three laugh as Hyeonjae sighs staring out the car window.
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“Hi baby-”
Jungkook couldn’t help it. He needed to kiss you. Without breaking the kiss, he closes the door behind you two and walks you two to your living room couch.
You’re straddling him as the kiss shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. His tongue slipping into your mouth and you follow suite. The kiss getting messy very quick but you couldn’t care less.
After both of your lips were swollen you pull away, intending to remove his jacket when you feel something in his pocket.
“What’s this-oh,” you take out the item from his pocket. It was your camera.
“I brought it so you could transfer the pictures and videos to your computer and send them to me,” Jungkook says trying to even out his breath. His gaze still on your wet pink lips. His fingers touch your lips innocently before they move to your jaw. He lets his arm fall to your waist to hold you on his lap securely.
“Sure we can do that,” you say and put the camera aside before leaning into him for a warm embrace.
“You looked so handsome today,”
“You look so gorgeous all the time,”
You giggle and look at him before pressing a kiss on his nose and going back to your position from before and loving the warmth, “That was weird right? My friends and yours just randomly eating together,”
“I think it was mostly because Areum and Hyeonjae like each other,”
“What?!”
“You didn’t notice?” Jungkook asks. You’re now sat properly on his lap again.
“I was too focused on my boyfriend to notice anybody else,” you says and run your hands through his hair. Jungkook closes his eyes at the nice feeling of your manicured hand just running through his hair.
“Yeah the guys were teasing Hyeonjae the entire car ride,”
“That’s mean. Hyeonjae’s cute,” you say absentmindedly and Jungkook opens an eye.
“Cute?”
“You know what I mean, baby,” you smile and he closes his eye again.
“They’d be cute together,” you note and Jungkook hums in agreement.
“By the way…Hyeonjae said he found the camera…he didn’t happen to look at the last video on it, right?” you ask grabbing the camera and turning it on.
“He turned on the camera but I grabbed it before he could do anything else,” you hum at his response.
“Okay. Good,”
“Why?” ”Did you forget what we last recorded on this?”
“Oh,”
It almost slipped his mind. Last time he filmed something. He couldn’t help it. Your moans were so pretty and his phone was too far. The camera lay on the center console as Jungkook’s dick slid in and out of you with ease. You just sounded so angelic and he wanted to capture it so bad.
“Koo please-” you were close and Jungkook knew it so he said fuck it and grabbed your pink camera you decorated in cute stickers before turning it on and pressing record with flash immediately. It’s not like anyone would see you either. Jungkook made sure to park far from others. He captured your sweet expressions and your angelic begs for him.
“Cum for me baby-fuck. Cum for me darling,” and for the second time that night you felt the warm feeling in your tummy before your release. That was enough for Jungkook to quickly feel the tight feeling and release his warm cum into you.
Your chest heaving up and down trying to regain your breathing as Jungkook, still recording, moved the camera to where his dick was slowly pulling out and his cum spilled down your ass and onto the sweater laid under you.
“Fuck darling,” he pressed the record button again to stop the video, “You’re gonna need to send me that so I could jack off to something when you’re not around,” he joked.
“Koo you have hundreds of pictures and videos of us already,” you say in between breaths.
“Yeah but this one might be my favorite,” he winks.
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pirateprincessblog · 8 months ago
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outlaw
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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"another one, sweetheart."
i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.
"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.
your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.
if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.
"you're quitting school."
just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.
"hey, bitch, over here!"
monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.
reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.
the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.
sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.
you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.
a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.
the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.
"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"
you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.
"hungry?"
this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.
"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."
he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.
"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."
charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.
"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."
but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.
"clumsy girl," he teases.
you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.
"wyatt," he calls.
the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.
"you go on. i'll catch up with you."
without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.
you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.
the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.
"if you're done staring, you can join me."
caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.
"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."
and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?
you should really get home.
thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.
"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.
it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.
"i'll take you home."
"no!"
the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.
you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."
"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"because."
"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."
if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.
fuck.
"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.
"lies."
"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"
"does he beat you every day?"
he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.
"or only when you do something wrong?"
"i don't see how that's any of your business."
"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."
you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?
"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."
you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.
when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.
he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.
"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.
"i'll be fine." you lie.
you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."
he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.
"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."
he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.
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weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.
you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.
the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.
"what's wrong, boy?"
denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."
"who is?"
"the stallion."
you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.
your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.
"good day, darling."
your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."
"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.
"uh, yes-"
"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.
the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"
"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."
the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."
you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-
"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.
"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"
defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."
alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.
"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"
you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.
his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"
you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.
"that's okay."
his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.
he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.
realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 
as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."
hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.
you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.
and you don't even know his name.
"did he touch you?"
"what?!"
"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"
"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"
he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"
"like?"
"anything."
"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."
smack.
nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.
"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."
"but it's dinner time-"
"judith will help me. go. now."
not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?
you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.
"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.
"oh." is all you manage to say.
"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."
"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.
"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"
no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?
"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"
you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.
"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."
other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.
"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."
you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.
"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."
his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?
"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."
"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"
"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."
"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"
"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."
"i didn't want to-"
"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."
"no."
the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.
your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.
"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."
tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.
"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"
his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.
"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."
you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?
"let's get you washed."
after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.
you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.
if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.
the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?
for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.
saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.
"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."
"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"
"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.
they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.
but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.
slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.
"gin."
"right away."
the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.
"say, when are we going to have fun again?"
"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"
yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.
"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.
he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.
"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.
"what?"
"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."
"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."
"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."
great.
you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.
he is so manly, so handsome, and so...
"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"
he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."
you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?
"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."
"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.
you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-
"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"
"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.
"give yourself some time to think."
the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.
"uh... can you sit up straight?"
yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.
"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"
"right away, darling."
he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.
"you missed a spot."
"huh?"
"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.
"oh, sorry."
he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.
"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.
"but-"
"i'll finish up. go."
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coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.
yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.
you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.
"i can't do it." 
"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."
"i need time."
jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?
"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."
"what, he spoke to you about me?"
wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.
"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.
you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"
the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."
"what do you mean? yes or no?"
"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.
"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."
you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."
"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"
"jongho. shut the fuck up."
"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."
the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.
the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.
how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.
it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.
the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.
"aren't you cute?"
your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.
"moonshine."
click. click. click.
"come on, girl."
the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.
"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"
your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.
"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."
his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.
"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"
the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.
"heavens." he exhales.
you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.
"darling?"
his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?
you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.
"had a good nap?"
"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
"that's no place to sleep, dove."
"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."
he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.
"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."
"i'm not sure-"
"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.
the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.
"go on, climb her."
"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."
"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."
with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.
"is she fast?"
"she can be. want to see?"
"i don't know. i might scream."
he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?
"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.
you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.
you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.
his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.
"you alright?"
"yes!"
"how do you feel? scared?"
"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"
his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.
"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.
"a bit."
this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.
you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?
"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."
and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.
"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."
"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."
"take it."
"no."
"take it."
"i don't want to."
yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-
"why would you do that?!"
you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.
"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."
"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."
his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.
"you know my name."
"yeah."
"how?"
and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.
"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."
you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"
"a psycho."
"oh."
"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."
he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."
"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."
"then... why did you keep it?"
"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."
"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."
he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."
so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?
"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"
"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.
"he stole your first kiss."
"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.
"what- what are you doing?"
"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."
you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.
you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.
he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.
"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.
"like what?"
"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."
"maybe i do."
"you're saying risky things, sugar."
seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.
"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.
he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.
"what is it?"
"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."
the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."
"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.
"like a feast."
with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"
"sit."
"what?!"
"sit."
you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.
"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."
you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"
the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.
"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.
deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"
"yes, please."
"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."
he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.
"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."
you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.
"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."
he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?
"this good, darling?"
"yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.
he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.
"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"
"what?"
"do you wish to be mine?"
do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:
"yes, sir."
"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.
"yunho."
he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."
"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.
"again."
"yunho-"
"more."
"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"
he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.
"does it hurt?"
"no," you reply.
"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."
that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.
"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."
"me too," you moan.
his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.
"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."
"so sweet"
"even your moans are so beautiful"
"use me for your pleasure, darling"
you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.
"yunho..."
"yes, my love?"
"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."
"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."
you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.
"let's try this."
he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.
"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.
"wait, what about you?"
"i'll just- i don't know."
his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?
"are you sure?"
"positive."
"absolutely sure?"
"yunho?"
"yes?"
"please cum in my mouth."
and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.
"you are just perfect, aren't you?"
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in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.
upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?
he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.
"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.
"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.
you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.
"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."
"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."
blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."
"he shot her."
"you shot my father!"
"he deserved it!"
"no, the fuck he didn't!"
you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?
"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.
"don't touch me."
"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."
he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.
"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.
"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."
he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?
"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."
"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."
yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?
"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."
and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.
why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?
"you're all mine now, sunshine."
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feedback greatly appreciated! <3
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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago
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The Klamath River’s salmon population has declined due to myriad factors, but the biggest culprit is believed to be a series of dams built along the river from 1918 to 1962, cutting off fish migration routes.
Now, after decades of Indigenous advocacy, four of the structures are being demolished as part of the largest dam removal project in United States history. In November, crews finished removing the first of the four dams as part of a push to restore 644 kilometres (400 miles) of fish habitat.
“Dam removal is the largest single step that we can take to restore the Klamath River ecosystem,” [Barry McCovey, a member of the Yurok Tribe and director of tribal fisheries,] told Al Jazeera. “We’re going to see benefits to the ecosystem and then, in turn, to the fishery for decades and decades to come.” ...
A ‘watershed moment’
Four years later, [after a catastrophic fish die-off in 2002,] in 2006, the licence for the hydroelectric dams expired. That created an opportunity, according to Mark Bransom, CEO of the Klamath River Renewal Corporation (KRRC), a nonprofit founded to oversee the dam removals.
Standards for protecting fisheries had increased since the initial license was issued, and the utility company responsible for the dams faced a choice. It could either upgrade the dams at an economic loss or enter into a settlement agreement that would allow it to operate the dams until they could be demolished.
“A big driver was the economics — knowing that they would have to modify these facilities to bring them up to modern environmental standards,” Bransom explained. “And the economics just didn’t pencil out.”
The utility company chose the settlement. In 2016, the KRRC was created to work with the state governments of California and Oregon to demolish the dams.
Final approval for the deal came in 2022, in what Bransom remembers as a “watershed moment”.
Regulators at the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) voted unanimously to tear down the dams, citing the benefit to the environment as well as to Indigenous tribes...
Tears of joy
Destruction of the first dam — the smallest, known as Copco 2 — began in June, with heavy machinery like excavators tearing down its concrete walls.
[Amy Cordalis, a Yurok Tribe member, fisherwoman and lawyer for the tribe,] was present for the start of the destruction. Bransom had invited her and fellow KRRC board members to visit the bend in the Klamath River where Copco 2 was being removed. She remembers taking his hand as they walked along a gravel ridge towards the water, a vein of blue nestled amid rolling hills.
“And then, there it was,” Cordalis said. “Or there it wasn’t. The dam was gone.”
For the first time in a century, water flowed freely through that area of the river. Cordalis felt like she was seeing her homelands restored.
Tears of joy began to roll down her cheeks. “I just cried so hard because it was so beautiful.”
The experience was also “profound” for Bransom. “It really was literally a jolt of energy that flowed through us,” he said, calling the visit “perhaps one of the most touching, most moving moments in my entire life”.
Demolition on Copco 2 was completed in November, with work starting on the other three dams. The entire project is scheduled to wrap in late 2024.
[A resilient river]
But experts like McCovey say major hurdles remain to restoring the river’s historic salmon population.
Climate change is warming the water. Wildfires and flash floods are contaminating the river with debris. And tiny particles from rubber vehicle tires are washing off roadways and into waterways, where their chemicals can kill fish within hours.
McCovey, however, is optimistic that the dam demolitions will help the river become more resilient.
“Dam removal is one of the best things we can do to help the Klamath basin be ready to handle climate change,” McCovey explained. He added that the river’s uninterrupted flow will also help flush out sediment and improve water quality.
The removal project is not the solution to all the river’s woes, but McCovey believes it’s a start — a step towards rebuilding the reciprocal relationship between the waterway and the Indigenous people who rely on it.
“We do a little bit of work, and then we start to see more salmon, and then maybe we get to eat more salmon, and that starts to help our people heal a little bit,” McCovey said. “And once we start healing, then we’re in a place where we can start to help the ecosystem a little bit more.”"
-via Al Jazeera, December 4, 2023
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