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lividstar · 5 months ago

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‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎Chapter One: A Change

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masterpost

៚ wc: 9k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, first person is only used in your journal entries so don’t worry, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Moving to Paris in order to leave your past in Arcadia Bay had been a long-term goal for a while now, and you were more than excited to finally have this dream of yours within your grasp. Of course, things won’t always turn out well consistently, and you had to be reminded of this in the worst way possible.

a/n: i’m having a huge struggle with figuring out how i’m supposed to conclude ‘sly fox, dumb bunny’ thus i decided to put it on hold for now. in order to compensate for that, allow me to introduce an entirely new series to keep you guys entertained <3 this was originally supposed to be oneshot but tumblr’s 1k block limit per post won’t allow that haha :’D still haven’t figured out how many chapters this will have in total but it will definitely be more than 2!

October 24th, 2018

If there was one lesson that struck me the most this year, it would definitely be the fact that in order to be able to move forward, making changes in your life are necessary, no matter how minor or major it may be. Maybe it could be something simple, like trying out a new restaurant different from the one near your house that you’ve been going to for pretty much your entire life, with the 0.5% possibility that you may cross paths with someone in the new place you’ll choose to visit, and the either lesser or bigger possibility that they may be the key to changing the way you view your existence.

Or maybe, it could be something as major as settling in a foreign setting to rewind the clock of your life right back to the very beginning—which is the change I am currently aiming for. I just feel like the opportunities that my hometown offers to me are way too restricted, you know? It’s like I don’t feel like I can push my potential to its very fullest in a place that isn’t big enough to withstand it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate it here—in fact, Arcadia Bay is the only place I can call my home without having any second doubts about it. But that’s exactly the problem. It feels like a home with locked doors, and I don’t hold the keys needed for it to be unlocked.

So then, months ago, I decided to take the risk and grab the opportunity to fly to Paris. I don’t know why exactly I chose it out of all the other choices laid out in front of me, but there’s just something about it that captivates me—better yet, draws me in. When I was surfing on the internet, looking to see which places are the best choices if you want to move out and start a new life, I came across Paris, and once I did, I knew I couldn’t just continue scrolling to look for other options. It’s like I had to choose to go there and nothing else, if you catch my drift.

I’m currently writing this in the airport, waiting for my flight to arrive. And by the time I step foot into Paris, I’ll make sure to write an entry as soon as possible—if unpacking won’t take up too much of my time. I honestly can’t wait for Paris! I hope it goes the other way around, too :)

Letting out a sigh of relief, you clicked your pen to push the ballpoint back in, gently shutting your journal and putting it back in one of your luggages. Staring at the sunset through the glass walls of the airport as you let your gaze be dragged back and forth by planes that were both departing and landing, you couldn’t help but let a wistful smile appear on your face. Even long ago, you already got aboard on a ship of longing for a change, a major event that will change the trajectory of your life for all the years that are yet to come. But you’ve never really been brave enough to keep your word back then, thus, the idea eventually rotted until it turned into a thought buried in the very back of your mind.

What you weren’t expecting at all was that very thought to come crawling back to bite you years later, but it’s been a long while since you neglected the idea, and now, you were no longer the same scaredy cat who had a knack for stressing herself out over the potential consequences of her actions instead of choosing to live in the moment—well, you were still a bit of a coward on specific circumstances, but no longer as much now. It wasn’t really charged by a highly traumatic moment or anything—you just came to realization that longing for a change without actually taking an action upon it won’t do anything on a random Sunday while moping over your laundry pile that refuses to decrease when you’ve literally been neglecting your house chores for an entire week straight.

The different jobs you’d take up almost every 3 business weeks due to always being fired over the most mediocre of reasons didn’t help with getting your life together either, especially since all of them had a low pay rate. Well, it only makes sense for things to be that way, considering your town was small and wasn’t really that fortunate in terms of financial matters, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to just suck it up and endure it. After all, why would you expect yourself to feel pity for the reason behind why you’re still unsure of what path you’re supposed to tread in life?

This was also one of the many reasons you decided to move to another country—you weren’t just hoping to experience a life-changing switch up, you were hoping to be able to find yourself throughout your journey in a foreign setting. You’ve never really been sure of what you wanted to be, always too busy with thinking of ways to survive rather than ways to live.

The speakers scattered around the walls of the airport then began to ring, signaling the departure of a flight. “Attention, passengers: Flight 276 to Paris is now boarding at Gate 12.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as the announcement rang through the terminal. With a deep breath, you stood up, gathering your belongings with a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it—the moment you’d been waiting for. The walk to Gate 12 felt surreal. People occupied themselves in their personal activities around you, dragging suitcases and chatting in various languages, but it all seemed to blur together as your focus remained on the boarding gate ahead. Handing your boarding pass to the attendant, you couldn't help but smile as they welcome you aboard.

Stepping onto the plane, the cool air and the quiet hum of the engines greeted you. Finding your seat, you settled in, glancing out the window at the fading light of the evening. This was the beginning of your new chapter, and as the plane began to taxi down the runway, you felt a sense of determination wash over you. Paris was waiting.

The flight was short, but for you, who had already been brimming with anticipation for what felt like an eternity, each passing second seemed to stretch into hours. Every tiny movement of the plane, every faint hum of the engines, felt amplified by the adrenaline spreading through your veins. You had spent weeks imagining this moment, and now that it was finally here, the reality felt almost too surreal to grasp.

As the plane soared above the clouds, the world below seemed to shrink, becoming a patchwork quilt of landscapes, cities, and oceans. The setting sun painted the horizon in brilliant hues of gold and orange, casting a warm, ethereal glow over everything. You pressed your face to the window, your breath fogging the glass as you gazed out at the breathtaking view. The sprawling scenery beneath you brought a sense of comfort, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the endless possibilities that awaited you.

Your thoughts drifted to the life you were leaving behind. Memories of your hometown, with its familiar streets and faces, flashed through your mind. There was a pang of nostalgia, but it was quickly overshadowed by the excitement of the new chapter you were about to begin. You closed your eyes, intending to rest them for just a moment. The gentle hum of the plane and the slight turbulence lulled you into a light nap, the anticipation and exhaustion of the journey catching up with you.

You were awoken by the voice of the pilot crackling through the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you look out of your windows to the left, you will see the Eiffel Tower in the distance as we begin our descent into Paris.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the grogginess of sleep quickly replaced by a rush of excitement. You pressed your face to the window once more, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that greeted you. There, standing tall against the backdrop of the glowing sky, was the Eiffel Tower. Its iron lattice structure, illuminated by the last light of the day, seemed to beckon you, a symbol of the dreams and opportunities that lay ahead.

The plane began its descent, and the details of the city became clearer. The Seine River snaked its way through the heart of Paris, its waters reflecting the shimmering lights of the bridges and buildings that lined its banks. You could see people walking along the river, tiny figures in the distance, living their everyday lives in this magical city. The closer you got, the more real it all became.

As the wheels touched down on the runway, a wave of emotions washed over you. Relief, excitement, and a hint of nervousness mingled together, creating a heady cocktail of feelings that made your heart race. The plane taxied to the gate, and the passengers around you began to gather their belongings, ready to disembark. You joined them, your hands trembling slightly in excitement as you reached for your carry-on bag.

Stepping off the plane and into the terminal, you were immediately struck by the vibrant energy of the place. The air was filled with a symphony of languages, the chatter of travelers from all corners of the globe blending together in a harmonious cacophony. The terminal itself was a hive of activity, with people bustling about, some rushing to their next destination, others leisurely browsing the shops and cafes.

You followed the flow of people through the airport, the sights and sounds of Paris already beginning to enchant you. The aroma of freshly baked croissants and strong coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle scent of perfume from the duty-free shops. The polished floors gleamed under the bright lights, reflecting the excitement in your eyes.

With your luggage in hand, you navigated through the crowd, your steps quickening as you neared the exit. The doors slid open, and you stepped out into the cool evening air. The city of Paris stretched out before you, alive with lights and sounds. The aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted through the air, mingling with the distant hum of traffic and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby café.

You took a deep breath, letting the reality of it all sink in. This was your new beginning, your fresh start—all chances to achieve every dream you had always wanted to turn into reality were eagerly waiting for you. As you hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of your new apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. Paris was everything you had dreamed of and more, and you were ready to embrace every moment of it.

The taxi ride through the streets of Paris felt like a dream. The city was a blend of old-world charm and modern vibrancy, with historic buildings standing proudly alongside trendy boutiques and cafes. You watched as people went about their lives, completely unaware of the new arrival who was already falling in love with their city.

The taxi driver, an older gentleman with a kind smile, made pleasant conversation during the ride. “Is this your first time in Paris?” he asked in a thick French accent.

“Yes, it is, sir,” you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. “I’ve always dreamed of coming here.”

“Ah, Paris is a city of dreams,” he said, his eyes twinkling in the rearview mirror. “You will love it here, I’m sure.”

Finally, you arrived at your apartment, a quaint building nestled in a quiet street. The driver helped you with your luggage, and you thanked him, giving him a generous tip. As you approached the building, the landlord, a friendly-looking middle-aged woman, stepped out to greet you. “Bonsoir! You must be the new tenant,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I am Madame Dupont."

“Bonsoir, Madame Dupont,” you replied, taking her hand in yours and gently shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Welcome to Paris,” she said, her smile broadening. “I hope your journey was pleasant. Now, let me show you to your apartment.”

You followed her inside, the cozy interior of the building immediately making you feel at home. She led you up a narrow staircase to the second floor, where she unlocked the door to your new apartment. “This is it,” she said, opening the door and stepping aside to let you enter first. “I hope you will find it comfortable.”

You stepped inside, your eyes widening as you took in the charming space. The apartment was small but cozy, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Parisian streets below. The furnishings were simple yet elegant, and there was a welcoming warmth to the place that instantly put you at ease.

“It’s perfect,” you said, turning to Madame Dupont with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. The other tenants are very friendly, and there’s a lovely café just down the street. I’m sure you’ll settle in quickly.”

“Thank you, Madame Dupont.” You gave her a grin filled with gratitude. “I really appreciate it.”

She handed you the keys, her smile never wavering. “Enjoy your stay in Paris. I have a feeling you’ll have many wonderful adventures here.”

With that, she left you to settle in, closing the door behind her. You took a moment to soak it all in—the cozy apartment, the view of the streets below, the realization that you were finally here, in Paris. Unpacking your belongings, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You have made it. You were here, ready to start this new chapter of your life. As you stood by the window, looking out at the city that would now be your home, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure.

Once you finished unpacking your belongings, you were about to settle down and immediately continue your journal entry for the day, but then you remembered Madame Dupont mentioning a café nearby the apartment. You mused to yourself, why not start your very first step into your new life now? You went through the rack of clothes you had just finished hanging inside your closet. Since you’d read somewhere that the weather in Paris was very cold lately, you decided to go for a comfortable, chic outfit made with a fabric thick enough to help you withstand the climate, paired with a long beige coat.

Debating whether to wear a beret as a cherry on top, you figured that would be way too much of a giveaway to the city folks that you were new around here. Instead, you chose one of the small bags you brought with you that wasn’t too big but big enough to fit your journal and essentials. Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you smiled to yourself in approval before heading out.

As you made your way outside the apartment, you passed by Madame Dupont, who sent a wide grin your way. “Already going out for an adventure, huh? I see you’ve got a strong sense of spirit in you, young lady. Take care.”

You lightly laughed and returned her smile. “Thank you, Madame Dupont. I’ll make sure to be back soon before it’s too late,” you promised, bidding her farewell before heading out and not looking back.

You felt a little foolish for forgetting to ask Madame Dupont where exactly the café was located before leaving, as now you were on your third circle around the apartment wondering where on earth the café was. Determined not to give up, you tried once more, scanning the streets with renewed focus. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a café came into your line of sight, and you let out a relieved sigh. The place was filled with activity, its warm lights and inviting atmosphere drawing you in. You decided to head for the vacant tables outside, appreciating the opportunity to soak in the vibrant Parisian street life.

Settling into a seat, you placed your bag on the table and took out your journal. The evening air was crisp, but your thick outfit kept you warm. As you opened your journal, you glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds of your new city. The café’s ambiance was filled with the soft murmur of conversations, the clinking of cups and plates, and the occasional laughter from nearby tables. You took a deep breath, savoring the moment. This was your new beginning, your first step into the life you had dreamed of. With a smile on your face, you began to continue your entry for October 24th.

I made it! I’m finally here in Paris, and let me tell you, the way it is described by media articles and people in social media spaces definitely does not entirely sum up just how beautiful it actually is in real life. I know it hasn’t even been half a day since I got here, but I can already feel myself falling in love with this city. Well, I guess they call it the city of love for a reason, right? I mean, in a literal context, how I feel is not why Paris is called such, but I’d like to think falling in love with the endless opportunities a certain place offers to you gives a more heartwarming feeling than falling in love with those who live in it.

Anyway, the journey felt like an eternity, but the sight of the Eiffel Tower from the plane made every second worth it. Stepping off the plane and into the terminal was like stepping into a dream, one you’d never catch yourself wanting to get out of. The energy, the diversity, the sheer magic of it all—it’s everything I imagined and more.

Madame Dupont, my landlord, is incredibly kind. She welcomed me warmly and showed me to my cozy apartment. It’s small, but it’s all I can afford for now, so it’ll do. It provides me with a spectacular view of the streets below, too, so I guess it’s not really that bad. After unpacking, I decided to explore the neighborhood, and now, I’m currently sitting at a charming café just around the corner from my apartment as I’m writing this.

The atmosphere here is enchanting. The air is filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the chatter of people enjoying their evening. I feel alive, inspired, and ready to embrace whatever comes my way. This is the start of my new life, and I couldn’t be more excited. I’m sure it’ll take me a while before I get used to the new environment, but everyone starts somewhere, right?

Just as you finished your entry, a waiter approached your table with a friendly smile. “Bonsoir, mademoiselle. What can I get for you this evening?”

You looked up, momentarily taken aback by the realization that you were truly in Paris. “Bonsoir,” you replied, returning his smile. “Could I please have a café au lait?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I’ll bring it right out.”

As the waiter walked off, you looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of the café and the street beyond. Even though it had barely been 24 hours since you arrived, you could already feel the major changes in your life beginning to take place. Listening to your gut and deciding to move to Paris was definitely the best decision you’d made so far. Your hometown was nice, but it had finished serving its purpose. From now on, it was nothing but a distant memory that could only be fondly looked back at and not returned to.

Minutes later, the waiter came back with your order and placed it down on your table with a kind smile. You return it back with an even wider grin, thanking him with utmost gratitude as he went off to serve other customers and left you with your internal musings.

Paris felt like a breath of fresh air, a place where you could truly spread your wings and explore your potential. The city’s energy was infectious, filling you with a sense of possibility and excitement for the future. The people, the culture, the very air you breathed—it all felt like an invitation to start anew, to discover parts of yourself you never knew existed. As the sky darkened and the street lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets, you felt a sense of contentment wrap you in an embrace.

Noticing that it was getting quite late, you hurriedly began to pack your items. The last thing you wanted was to stay in the streets for too long and risk getting into trouble before you could even start your new life. Plus, you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on Madame Dupont by breaking your promise to return before it got too late. And you certainly didn’t want to stay up too long and miss the opportunity to wake up early tomorrow to start searching for a job to settle yourself in.

In your haste, you quickly gathered your things, placing them back in your bag. However, in your rush, you forgot to place your journal back inside. You slung your bag over your shoulder, the adrenaline of the day still lingering in your veins as you made your way back to your apartment.

As you neared your apartment, a sudden realization hit you—you had left your journal at the café. Panic surged through you as you turned on your heel and rushed back, your heart pounding with urgency.

The café was still open, and you hurried inside, scanning the tables where you had been sitting. Your journal was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing your anxiety, you approached the counter where a waiter was wiping down some glasses.

“Excuse me,” you said, your voice tinged with worry. “I left a black journal here earlier. Do you have a lost and found section?”

The waiter looked up and smiled kindly. “Yes, we do. Follow me.” He led you to a small office in the back and began rifling through a box of forgotten items. “Apologies, what did you lose again?”

“A black journal,” you repeated, your stomach in knots.

The waiter nodded and pulled out a plain black notebook. “Is this it?”

You sighed in relief. “Yes, that’s the one. Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile. “Glad we could help.” You thanked him again and hurried out of the café, eager to get back to your apartment. You clutched the journal tightly in your hands, not bothering to check it until you were safely back in your room.

Once you were home, you finally took a moment to catch your breath. You sat on your bed and opened the journal, flipping past the first page. But something was off. The pages weren’t filled with your handwriting; instead, they were covered in otherworldly sketches of fashion designs, complete with detailed notes.

Confused, you flipped back to the front cover and saw a name scrawled there in neat handwriting: Kim Hongjoong.

Not being able to keep your curiosity in check, you decided to take a look at the sketches in the journal. Opening the first few pages, you find yourself to be immediately in awe with the sight that greets you.

The first page featured an elegant evening gown, the kind that would turn heads at any high-class event. The dress was sleek and form-fitting, with a high neckline and elegantly patterned lace detailing that cascaded down the back. The fabric seemed to shimmer even on the page, giving it a sense of movement and grace. There was a small note attached to the side:

“Inspired by the twilight sky. Use silk chiffon for the outer layer, color: midnight blue.”

You flipped to the next page and found a chic, modern pantsuit. The jacket was tailored to perfection, with sharp lines and a slightly oversized fit, giving it a contemporary edge. The trousers were high-waisted and wide-legged, creating a powerful and stylish silhouette. Another note accompanied this design:

“Power and elegance combined. Fabric: wool blend, color: charcoal gray. Consider adding a silk blouse in white.”

The next sketch was a whimsical cocktail dress. It had a flared skirt that ended just above the knees and a fitted bodice adorned with floral embroidery. The dress seemed playful yet sophisticated, perfect for a summer party, a fancy brunch, or maybe even a date by a park. The note read:

“Spring collection. Use organza for the skirt and satin for the bodice. Embroidery: floral motifs in pastel shades.”

Turning the page, you found a casual yet stylish ensemble. This one consisted of a cropped leather jacket, a simple white tee, and high-waisted skinny jeans. The look was completed with ankle boots and a statement necklace. The note next to it said:

“Urban chic. Jacket: genuine leather, color: black. Jeans: denim, dark wash. Accessorize with bold jewelry.”

You continued to flip through the pages, marveling at the diversity and creativity of the designs. Each sketch seemed to tell a story, and it was clear that Kim Hongjoong had a keen eye for fashion and an impressive ability to translate his vision onto paper. Another design caught your eye—a stunning bridal gown. The dress was timeless and romantic, with a sweetheart neckline, a fitted bodice, and a flowing tulle skirt. Delicate lace covered the bodice and trailed down into the skirt, giving the dress a dreamy, ethereal quality. The note attached was longer:

“Bridal collection. Bodice: lace overlay on satin, color: ivory. Skirt: multiple layers of tulle for volume, same color. Add pearl embellishments to the bodice for an extra touch of elegance.”

You found yourself getting lost in the artistry of the sketches. Whoever Kim Hongjoong was, he definitely knew what he was doing. His designs were not only beautiful but also meticulously planned, with each detail carefully thought out and noted.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander freely. Was he a fashion student? But his designs seemed too advanced for that level. An aspiring designer, perhaps? You had no idea. You hoped Kim Hongjoong hadn’t mixed his notebook with yours as well—but then again, why would there only be one black journal there if yours hadn’t already been taken?

What if Kim Hongjoong had been in the café hours before you came by and went back only to end up retrieving your personal journal instead of his sketchbook? One thing was for sure, you had a desperate sense of hope that he wasn’t snooping through it right now as you lay down and let yourself be drowned in your thoughts.

Well... you did snoop through his sketchbook, but journal entries are way more personal than that, aren’t they? You imagined him reading through your thoughts and musings, learning about your insecurities and dreams, unsure of how to feel about the scenario. It was one thing to admire someone’s creative work, but entirely another to delve into someone’s private reflections.

As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind whirled with questions and possibilities. Who was Kim Hongjoong, and how could you find him to return his sketchbook and retrieve your journal, in case it was in his possession as well? The idea of someone else reading your innermost thoughts made you uneasy, but at the same time, the mystery of this encounter intrigued you.

Not even a day had passed, and yet Paris was already proving itself to be filled with extraordinary happenings.

—

“So… you’re telling me that not only did you forget the sketchbook you’ve been using since you started fashion school back in college—which you, by the way, claim to be your most prized possession, but when you went back to the café to retrieve it, you ended up taking a stranger’s notebook with you?”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples as he lightly banged the back of his head against his headboard. “Prized possession or not, you know I tend to be forgetful about my belongings, Seonghwa. So whatever you’re trying to imply, drop it. Plus, how was I supposed to know? The notebook they gave me was a hundred percent identical with what my sketchbook looks like.”

“And you didn’t bother checking the pages first before heading back here last night?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You seriously waited until now to tell me about this?”

“First of all, I didn’t wait. You woke me up by telling me you’ll be coming over to check my latest designs for our autumn collection,” Hongjoong countered, crossing his arms in defense.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “So, what, had I not called you, you would’ve waited until later in the afternoon to tell me?”

“That’s not the point!” Hongjoong buried his face deep in his palms, the skintone of his fingers mixing with the dark hues of his hair. “I’m stressed out and I already have a lot on my plate, so please, Seonghwa, if you’re not going to help me out with this, just leave.”

Seonghwa let out a soft sigh before throwing his arms up in defeat. Taking a couple steps to draw closer to Hongjoong’s bed, he took a seat on the edge of it, the cushion underneath shrinking. “I literally help you with everything for a living. I definitely don’t want to validate your stupidity, but if that’s what’ll bring money to the table, then fine, I’m all ears.”

“Will you stop acting like we’re just co-workers and I only hired you as a personal assistant to treat you like a slave? Mind you, you’re the one who came up with the idea of taking this responsibility to begin with.” Hongjoong groaned.

“Yeah, when I was a dumb man back in college,” Seonghwa retorted, though playfully, as he never really took the endless banter between him and Hongjoong seriously. It does get a little serious about twice a year, though, but doesn’t that happen to every friendship in this world?

“What changed now? You’re a dumb man in the fashion industry?” Hongjoong challenged, drawing the blankets closer to his torso.

Seonghwa gave him a disapproving look. “You better quit giving me attitude. It’s 7 in the morning, and I’m not having any of that today.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m your child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

Hongjoong roughly dragged his palms across his face. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that sorted out, have you done anything with the notebook, like, at all?” Seonghwa turned his body slightly to the left so he could face Hongjoong.

“I have. I checked the notebook a minute after you called me to ask about our autumn collection, and flipping through its first page was enough to tell me everything I needed to know. Although I do agree it would’ve been wiser to have done that the night before…” Hongjoong admitted, avoiding Seonghwa’s gaze as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, staring out the window of his penthouse.

“Everything you needed to know?” Seonghwa tilted his head.

“What was on the first page wasn’t a name—it was ‘Letters from the archive,’ and it was written in cursive. My sketchbook has my name on its first page,” Hongjoong explained, eliciting a sigh from Seonghwa.

“Letters from the archive, huh? The owner must be into literature,” Seonghwa mused. “Are you sure it really looks that identical to your sketchbook, though?”

“I am. I swear, there isn’t even a single difference. Here, I’ll show you.” Hongjoong stretched his arms, finally taking the blankets off of him and leaning closer towards his bedside table to pull the top drawer open. Once he had taken out the notebook, he pushed the drawer shut, moving to occupy the empty space beside Seonghwa on his bed. “Look at that and tell me it doesn’t look exactly like my sketchbook.”

“Oh,” was all Seonghwa could say as he examined the journal’s cover. “Well, I guess you’re not that stupid after all. I mean, you’re still stupid for forgetting your prized possession, but not as much anymore. I definitely wouldn’t have suspected a thing if I were you, either.”

“...”

“But I definitely would have decided to check the contents first—”

Hongjoong snatched the journal away from Seonghwa. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, whatever. So… what do I do now?”

“Maybe try flipping a page further? Just to see if you could find any information that could take you a step closer to figuring out what the notebook is for.” Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders.

Hongjoong hesitated. “What if it’s some sort of a personal journal? The eccentric cursive lettering kind of gives it away. Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. And if you’re immediately met with a journal entry, close it shut as soon as you can and we’ll try to find another way to see who the owner is. We’re not invading people’s privacy in the 21st century,” Seonghwa suggested, leaning back and placing his hands down on either side for support as he waited for Hongjoong to do as he said. “So?”

“It’s blank.”

“Huh?” Seonghwa straightened up, looking at the open journal laying down on Hongjoong’s lap. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What now?” Hongjoong asked, staring blankly at the empty page. “I’m pretty sure the only way we can find out this person’s name or anything remotely hinting at their identity is if we go deeper and read at least one entry. Just one.”

“I don’t think that’s…” Seonghwa trailed off, considering Hongjoong’s words. Even if he hated to admit it, the man had a fair point. He was against his idea, but right now, it’s not exactly like they have any other choice. Sighing in defeat, he slumps his shoulders. “Fine. One entry, but that’s it. That’s as far as we should go.”

Hongjoong nodded in satisfaction, ecstatic that for once, Seonghwa actually views his perspective as something valuable. “Alright, one entry it is,” he mused, almost to himself, before flipping through the pages and stopping at a random entry.

July 10, 2018

Is it unacceptable to long for a major shift in your life? To desperately hope for a miracle to happen almost every night, just a couple seconds before your body entirely falls into the pit of unconsciousness? To be frankly honest, these are questions I have no answers to. Not because I’m empty-handed, rather, I’ve always been too afraid to step out of my tiny little bubble to find out the answers myself. How am I supposed to know if yearning for a change despite already being in an environment considered comfortable is unjustifiable if I’m not making any move to feel at least a fleeting touch of that “change” to begin with?

I know my parents think keeping me alone here in my hometown while they continued their lives in a different country was the best decision they’ve made for my entire lifespan because in their eyes, they view this as a way to teach me the art of independence or whatever my father called it, and don’t get me wrong, I love them dearly and I know they’re only doing all these things because they care for me, but if it’s a good decision in their eyes, why can’t it be in mine?

Yes, Arcadia Bay is the place where I grew up, the only place I feel enough connection with to call my home, but I have to be honest and admit that this place doesn’t exactly feel like something I could call a sanctuary anymore. I love it here, but I feel like this town was supposed to be nothing but a guiding light that has already served its purpose back in my childhood days. I feel like I’m not supposed to be here anymore—who knows, maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling so out of place ever since I started growing up.

I’m still unsure of whether I should initiate a change in my life as of now, but if I were to do so anytime soon, I think following my parents’ footsteps and moving to a new country as well would be the right decision for me. That’s a huge change, right? Maybe once I’m brave enough to stand firm on that decision, I can finally prove to them that I’ve grown to be the independent figure they’ve always wanted me to be. That would make them proud, right? Guess I’ll start browsing the internet for recommendations on one of these following days.

“Arcadia Bay?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, Seonghwa, could you look up where Arcadia Bay is?”

The aforementioned man didn’t need to be told twice, already pulling his phone out from the pocket of his tailored pants. “On it,” he replied before typing the words ‘Arcadia Bay’ in the browser’s search bar. Once the results appeared on his screen, he couldn’t resist but let out a hum of surprise. “Oh?”

“Why?” Hongjoong gently closed the journal, placing it on the empty spot to his left as he leaned closer towards Seonghwa, who gave him a clear view of the browser’s search results. “A secluded town located in…”

“So the owner isn’t from here, then?” Hongjoong whispered to himself, yet it was audible enough to make Seonghwa give a curt nod.

“The entry I chose to read was written on July 10, and they said something about wanting to move to a new country. I wonder if they’ve been here for a while or have just settled in…” Hongjoong trailed off. “Should I read the most recent entry?”

“Hongjoong, are you out of your mind? One entry is enough,” Seonghwa countered, but Hongjoong insisted. “I know, but how am I supposed to figure out if they’re new here or not?”

Seonghwa groaned. “You don’t need to know that to begin with. Reading one entry is invasive enough. Just leave the rest to me. I’ll figure out a way to track the owner down and see if your sketchbook is in their possession as well.”

Seeing that Hongjoong wasn’t convinced enough, Seonghwa softened, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, I know you’re worried, but we’ll figure this out, alright? I’ll do everything I can.”

“We can wait for autumn all we want, but autumn won’t wait for us, Seonghwa. What if the months pass by faster than we’re currently anticipating, and my sketchbook is still not in our hands? What will I do, then? You know I can’t mess this up.” Hongjoong’s figure slumped, a symbol of hopelessness.

A flash of empathy spread across Seonghwa’s gaze. “I know that more than you think I do, Hongjoong. And that’s exactly what I’m here for. I volunteered to be your personal assistant for a reason. Now, quit moping around, or else I’ll tell Wooyoung about this.”

“Oh, God, no—anything but that. You know he always does everything in his power to make me feel even worse when I’m having a horrible day,” Hongjoong said, groaning at the thought of his fashion brand’s photographer.

“I beg to differ. I think it’s just his own special way of cheering you up.” Seonghwa nudged him, a smile on his face. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me snitching on you to Wooyoung, since he’s most likely busy with his photography gigs outside of taking pictures of models.”

At the mention of the word ‘model,’ Hongjoong’s ears perked up. “Speaking of models, you mentioned the other week you’re looking for a specific set of features that’ll match the vibe our upcoming collection is opting for, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working my soul off to try and search everywhere for a suitable muse, but luck hasn’t been on my side lately. My schedule today isn’t packed since yours isn’t, so I’ll make use of my free time later in the afternoon to conduct another search.” Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong, a grin of determination spread across his face.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be in the trenches and not a penthouse right now.”

“Wish that was the case.”

“This is the only time I’m allowing myself to express my gratitude verbally, and that’s the response you chose to give me?”

You wandered through the streets of Paris, eyes scanning every shop window and café for signs advertising job vacancies. The bustling city, with its charming cobblestone streets and historic architecture, felt both enchanting and overwhelming. Every corner held a new promise, a new opportunity—or so you hoped.

Your first stop was a quaint little bakery that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafted out as you pushed the door open, the bell above jingling to announce your arrival. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes greeted you from behind the counter. “Bonjour! How can I help you?”

You smiled, trying to mask your nervousness. “Bonjour. I was wondering if you might be hiring?”

Her smile faltered slightly, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we’re fully staffed at the moment. But I do wish you the best of luck in your search!”

“That’s alright. Thank you,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Have a good day.”

The doorbell jingled again as you left, and you sighed, making a note to check back in a few weeks before continuing your job hunt. Next, you approached a charming bookstore nestled between a café and a flower shop. The smell of old books greeted you as you stepped inside, and the owner, an elderly man with glasses perched on the edge of his nose, looked up from his newspaper.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “Are you looking for any help?”

He gave you a kind but weary smile. “I’m afraid not, dear. It’s just me here, and I can manage well enough. But thank you for asking.”

“Of course. Have a good day,” you said, nodding politely before exiting the store.

Feeling a bit discouraged, you decided to try your luck at a nearby café. The place was bustling with customers, and you hoped that meant they might need an extra pair of hands. You approached the counter where a barista was busy making coffee.

“Hi there, I was wondering if you’re hiring,” you asked when the barista had a moment to spare.

She glanced at you, her expression apologetic. “Oh, sorry, but we’re fully staffed right now. Maybe try back in a month or so?”

“A month… Okay, thanks anyway,” you replied, feeling your spirits dip further.

As the morning turned into afternoon, you found yourself in a part of the city you didn’t recognize. The streets here were pristine, lined with designer boutiques and luxury cars. The buildings were grand and elegant, their facades adorned with intricate details that spoke of old money and high status. It was clear that the people who lived here were exceptionally wealthy.

You spotted a small convenience store and decided to take a break, purchasing a bottle of water before finding a bench to sit on. You took a long sip of water, feeling the cool liquid soothe your parched throat. The hustle and bustle of the morning had worn you out, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. Maybe you had underestimated just how difficult it would be to find a job in a new city, let alone in a foreign country where you barely knew anyone.

You glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The buildings here were charming in their own way, but they didn’t have the same vibrant energy as the heart of Paris. You wondered how far you had walked, how many miles you had covered without even realizing it. The city seemed to stretch on endlessly, each new street a labyrinth of possibilities and dead ends.

As you sat there, you couldn’t help but think about how much you missed the familiarity of your hometown, despite its suffocating nature. Back there, you knew the ins and outs, the shortcuts and hidden gems. Here, everything was a mystery waiting to be unraveled—a mystery that, right now, felt overwhelming.

But you couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. You had made the choice to move here, to start anew, and you were determined to make it work. After all, wasn’t this what you had dreamed of? A fresh start, a chance to reinvent yourself in one of the most beautiful cities in the world?

You stood up, drinking the last drip of your water before tossing the bottle into a nearby recycling bin. You decided to continue your job search, reasoning that you might as well make the most of being in an unfamiliar part of the city, yet the next few hours passed in a blur of polite conversations and disappointing rejections. You visited a cozy bookstore, a flower shop, and even a small art gallery, but each time the answer was the same: no openings.

At a chic boutique, you approached a stylish woman arranging clothes on a rack. “Excuse me, are you hiring by any chance?”

She looked you up and down, her expression neutral. “Not at the moment. Try again in a few weeks.”

“Oh, um, alright. Thanks,” you said, trying to keep your tone upbeat.

A small restaurant was your next stop. The manager, a burly man with a thick mustache, listened as you asked about job openings. He shook his head. “Sorry, we’re not hiring right now. But I’ll keep your name in mind if something opens up.”

“I would appreciate that very much,” you said, handing him a slip of paper with your contact information.

You continued to push forward, determined not to let the string of rejections defeat you. At a florist’s shop, the owner, a woman in her forties with a friendly smile, seemed sympathetic. “I wish I could help, but we’re fully staffed for the season. Try the market down the street, though—they’re always busy.”

You thanked her and headed to the market, only to find the same disheartening response. The vendors were polite but firm: no openings.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the city, you were exhausted. Your feet ached, and your spirits were low. You had covered a lot of ground, but you were no closer to finding a job than you had been that morning.

You made your way to a nearby bus stop, hoping to catch a bus back to your apartment. As you waited, you couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. It was disheartening to face so many rejections, but you tried to remind yourself that it was only the first day. Things would get better—they had to.

Just as a bus pulled up and you prepared to board, you noticed a man standing across the street, staring at you. He was well-dressed, his long, dark hair neatly styled, and there was something about his gaze that made you pause. But you didn’t have the energy to think much of it. You dismissed it as a coincidence, stepping onto the bus and finding a seat by the window.

As the bus pulled away, you watched the city pass by, the streets slowly transforming from the unfamiliar to the familiar. You leaned your head against the window, closing your eyes for a moment. Tomorrow is a new day, and you should continue your search. For now, you allowed yourself a moment of rest, letting the rhythmic motion of the bus lull you into a state of quiet reflection.

If only you had your journal with you.

Seonghwa strolled through the opulent streets, his mind still buzzing with the image of the woman he had seen at the bus stop. There was something undeniably captivating about you—your presence was like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the city’s chaos. Your aura practically reeked of autumn, a season that brought a sense of warmth and nostalgia, and your features harmonized perfectly with the vibe you carried. There was a certain grace you held, a blend of determination and gentleness that made you stand out.

Seonghwa had a unique talent, a third eye for spotting individuals who deserved to be showcased in the fashion industry. Today, it was as if a laser had hit him right in the eye when he saw you. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were the perfect muse Hongjoong had been searching for.

As he approached Hongjoong’s penthouse, Seonghwa’s mind was racing. He had to tell Hongjoong about you, even if he didn’t know your name or where you were headed. He pushed open the door to the penthouse, finding Hongjoong hunched over his desk, engrossed in his work.

Hongjoong looked up, surprise evident on his face. “Seonghwa? You’re back already? And… wow. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Seonghwa shook his head, still trying to process what he had seen. “No, not a ghost. I saw the perfect muse for your works.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, immediately intrigued. He leaned back in his chair, motioning for Seonghwa to sit down. “Settle down and tell me everything. Did you get her name?”

Seonghwa sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. “No, I didn’t. I only saw her just as she was getting on a bus across the street. But Hongjoong, you have to believe me. This woman—she’s exactly what you’ve been looking for. Her entire aura screamed autumn. It was like she was made to be your muse.”

Hongjoong frowned, disappointed but still intrigued. “You know how rarely you say something like that. In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever used the word ‘perfect’ to describe any of the models you’ve scouted.”

Seonghwa nodded sarcastically. “Thanks for the info, Sherlock. I know that very well. That’s why I’m so certain. She was different, like she wasn’t from here at all.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Tell me more. What exactly did you see that made you so sure?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, trying to put the ineffable into words. “It was the way she carried herself. There was a certain grace, a natural elegance that you don’t see every day. She had a strong, remarkable energy, yet there was also a touch of softness to it. Her presence was calming, almost like the gentle fall of autumn leaves. Her features were perfectly combined in a way that was so unique as if she’s the only one who could pull off such an appearance. It was her overall vibe—the warmth, the subtle strength, the sense of being grounded yet free.”

Hongjoong listened intently, absorbing every detail. “And you’re sure she’s not a local?”

“I don’t think so. There was something in her demeanor, a curiosity about her surroundings, that made me think she’s new here. She seemed to be exploring, taking in everything around her.”

Hongjoong’s disappointment deepened. “It’s a shame you didn’t get to speak to her. But if she’s new here, she might not have settled down yet. We could still find her.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping for. We’ll need to keep our eyes open, maybe put out some feelers. Someone must have seen her.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, considering the possibilities. “Can you draw? Even just a little?”

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard by the question. “A little, yeah. Why?”

Without another word, Hongjoong handed Seonghwa a pen and a piece of paper. “Draw what she looked like.”

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before taking the pen. His eyebrows lightly furrowed as he began recalling the details as best as he could—the way you carried yourself, the way your presence seemed to radiate warmth. He began to sketch, his hand moving swiftly across the paper.

As he worked, Hongjoong watched intently, his anticipation growing with each stroke of the pen. Seonghwa’s drawing wasn’t perfect, but it captured the essence of what he had seen. The lines conveyed a sense of movement, a grace that was unmistakable. When he finished, he handed the drawing to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong couldn't take his eyes off the sketch. The lines were simple yet evocative, capturing an essence that stirred something deep within him. “She’s... ethereal,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s like even through this sketch, I can feel what you were talking about.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “See? It was as if she had her own gravitational pull. Among all the people, she stood out. Not because of any single feature, but because of the way she seemed to belong and yet not belong at the same time. Like she was part of this world but also a visitor.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, still entranced by the sketch. “You really do have a knack for psychoanalyzing people at first glance, don’t you?”

Seonghwa chuckled, nudging Hongjoong playfully. “It’s a gift, what can I say? I see beyond the surface. It’s what makes me such an asset to you.”

Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head. “An asset, huh? More like a pain sometimes.”

Seonghwa grinned. “Only sometimes? I must be losing my touch.”

Hongjoong laughed, the tension easing between them. “Well, you definitely haven’t lost your touch with this one. Seriously though, are you sure you weren’t hallucinating? She looks too good to be true.”

Seonghwa’s expression turned serious. “I’m as sure as I can be. She’s real, and she’s out there. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes you just know when something is right.”

Hongjoong’s mind raced, the image of you taking root in his imagination. “I need that kind of authenticity, that depth that she seems to hold just from this sketch alone. Someone who embodies change, transition, like the seasons shifting.”

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. That’s why I couldn’t just let it go. There was a sense of autumn around her—warmth mixed with a touch of melancholy, like she’s seen the world and carries its stories within her.”

Hongjoong’s thoughts were a whirlwind of possibilities. He could already see the designs taking shape, inspired by the image Seonghwa had drawn and the feelings it evoked. “You know, this could be the breakthrough we’ve been searching for. A muse like her could elevate the entire collection.”

Seonghwa smiled, feeling a surge of excitement. “I knew you’d understand. We just have to find her now. Maybe we can start by visiting the area where I saw her. There might be clues, or someone who knows her.”

Hongjoong agreed, his determination solidifying. “Yeah, we’ll start there and leave no stone unturned. I want to know everything about her—where she’s from, what brought her here, and what her dreams are. She’s the missing piece.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “You’re already captivated, and we haven’t even met her yet.”

Hongjoong smiled, a mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s my passion for what I do speaking for me. No personal feelings involved. Sometimes, you just immediately know when something—or someone—is going to change everything.”

“So, what do you think, Hongjoong?”

“I think she’s that someone.”

🪞 — lividstar.

#౨ৎ﹒ノ﹒lividstar．#kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong ateez #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung

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tellmeallaboutit · 2 months ago

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 15, In Which You Dance Twist With Mr. Goat (Pulp Fiction Style)

AO3

TAGS: self-harm, sharp objects, glass, politics

There was a time, not so long ago, when you were terrified of flying.

The mere thought of that huge metal thing plummeting from the sky for no apparent reason (well, the human factor. It's always the human factor), a minute of sheer terror, descent, and then boom.

No survivors.

No bodies ever recovered.

You used to fear situations that so brazenly took control away from you.

Well, you were wrong; there was something strangely comforting about letting go; about snuggling up in the plush comfort of an oversized leather seat, scrolling through messages on your phone to the roar of the twin engines.

Raphael's hand was always on your knee, his tail wrapped tightly around your ankle, as if you could escape him on the private jet - or off it. A black diamond ring on your finger sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the oval windows.

Across from you sat Camilla, while Jens occupied the far corner seat. Yurgir was conspicuously absent; you didn't pry into his reasons, just assumed his size exceeded the weight limit of any aircraft.

A headline in the Daily Mirror caught your eye: "Who is Anya Berger? What do we know about the mysterious girl who won the heart of a billionaire in ten days?"

What do they know, you wondered and clicked.

"Walk me through the panels again," Raul asked. "And the key people to talk to."

"Morning is boring," Korilla replied. "Mental health crisis, supply chain disruptions, sustainability regulations. You start in the afternoon, sir: your first is the AI discussions with the UN Secretary General's Special Envoy for Technology."

"I won't say a word about this soulless drivel," Raphael said, skimming through the agenda.

Camilla choked on her coffee while Jens flinched at her sudden movement, his hand swiftly resting on the gun now.

"Mr D'Avergni, Avernus' portfolio is 15% invested in AI technologies," she said as soon as she collected herself. "What do you mean 'soulless nonsense'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I will not say a word about these abominable technologies. I have been made privy to information that they are cannibalising art and I will not stand for it".

"Where did you hear this nonsense?" whispered Camilla. "Tumblr? Anya? Is that your doing?"

"I'm totally against AI," you interjected, without looking up from your phone, engrossed in the news article about your grunge heroin chic and manic-girl attitude.

They recommended black nail polish, drawing dark circles under your eyes and perfecting the look of total derangement to repeat your success. There were also some advanced blowjob techniques at the bottom of the article.

"What is this panel 'Securing an Insecure World'?" asked Raphael. "I quite fancy the name."

"Sir, it has nothing to do with you. This is the macroeconomic panel on the dying middle class, youth problems, inequality, blah blah blah. Fear-mongering."

"Fear-mongering?" said Raphael. "I seem to have found my stage."

Camilla closed her eyes and put on her best smile. The flight attendant glided by in her pressed uniform and replaced your coffee; you were momentarily struck by the amount of cleavage she was showing as your eyes glanced upwards.

To see very familiar eyes and a smile. Haarlep put a finger to her lips and gave you a little wink. You smiled back.

"Sir," Camilla said gently. "It doesn't work that way. You can't just speak whenever and about whatever you want in a global forum. It's all scripted, all pre-written."

"Astute observation," said Raphael. "Scripted conversations, scripted problems, scripted solutions, no room for improvisation. Davosneeds a breath of fresh air. Of honesty. Of a genuine hope for change".

Camilla said, "Of course, sir," and forced a smile.

Back to the article: did they really get your ex-boyfriend to give an interview about you? Did he have anything good to say, that bastard who regularly forgot to flush the toilet?

Yes, he had plenty to say, mostly about you being not right in the head. You put him on your hit list and stroked Raphael's tail, which in turn stroked your ankle. They even got your mum on the phone, who thankfully had nothing much to say except that you were a good Catholic girl.

You saw some frantic movement out of the corner of your eye.

Camilla was waving you over to the plane's galley. You tried to get up, but were stopped by a tail wrapped around your ankle like a boa constrictor. "May I go to the toilet?" you asked, and Raphael uncoiled his tail, three times, with a slight reproach in his eyes. Jens did his best to keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Camilla pulled you deeper into the galley. She smelled of fresh coffee and burnout.

"Anya, listen, I am very sorry that it has to come to this, but just between us girls..." she said, her fingers fidgeting with her diamond necklace. "Did Raul remember to take his medication today? I don't like his mood”. She shifted on her feet. "God, I miss the days when you could smoke in these things”.

"I'm not his doctor," you shrugged.

"Well, maybe it would be worth reminding him," Camilla drawled. "I'd rather not see viral videos of him committing political suicide in Davos. And I'm sure you'd agree."

You weren't so sure.

"I'm not going to poke the devil, and I suggest you don't either," you said, leaning against the galley counter.

Camilla sighed and gave you a very sympathetic smile.

"Anya, may I give you some friendly advice? Raul may seem like a half-god to you, but I've seen him curled up in a ball sobbing about how Daddy never loved him when he was high as a kite on coke. He's... as human as the rest of us. For better and worse”.

Just then, the plane shook violently, sending you both clutching the walls for support. The pilot quickly apologized over the intercom.

"Don't patronise me, Korilla," you said. "Do you think I'm just some pathetic, love-struck girl Raul likes to abuse?"

Camilla paused for a moment before suppressing a grin. "I'm going to invoke my right against self-incrimination. So tell me, my dear: who are you really?"

"Much more than meets the eye." You straightened up, standing slightly taller than her (which was not difficult). "I'm the one who gave him all this power in the first place."

"Wow," Kamilla snorted out in surprise. "Wow. Okay. Cool. Never mind."

"You need proof?" you said quietly.

"Not really," she said.

"I wish you would get down on your knees and kiss my hand."

"What?" Kamilla burst out laughing. "Maybe you should share your medicine with Raul. Ask Dr Bambauer for a family discount. He will be at Davos, by the way, speaking on the mental health crisis".

"I wish for you to kiss my hand," you insisted. "Come on, do it, I have a point to prove."

You really need to learn how to calibrate these things. This one worked, though; she complied, sinking to her knees before you, a wild look in her eyes. Then she planted a surprisingly gentle kiss on your palm, leaving a crimson mark.

"What the hell?" she whispered as she looked up at you. Raphael was engrossed in his paperwork, oblivious to the scene, so was Jens.

"See, Korilla," you started again after letting the moment hang awkwardly in the air for longer than necessary, "don't worry about Raphael talking nonsense. You'd be surprised how many people eat it up."

"Who the fuck is Raphael?"

"Your new boss," you said. "Well, old boss actually. Ahh... you won't really notice much of a difference; I hardly do myself sometimes," you lowered your voice to a minimum. "But don't tell them that, they'll get angry. You can get up now, this is getting a bit weird."

She tried to say something, her lips barely moving. You think it was 'how'. She was asking ‘how’.

"You see," you said. "The devil thinks I am very, very special”.

Having said that, you came back to your seat. Raphael's tail immediately darted to your ankle and wrapped around it. You leaned back in your chair and watched Haarlep flirting with the pilot out of the corner of your eye.

It would be really stupid to crash because Haarlep wanted to have a quickie in the cockpit. The plane began its descent to Samedan St Moritz airport. The rugged Swiss Alps came into view out the window, snow-capped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun.

***

When you book a presidential suite you no longer have to check in, you can just walk straight past the reception. The hotel was a mountain resort so exclusive that the website was just an artistic photo with no way to reserve a room.

Raphael was eerily calm as he watched the staff unpack your belongings. His calm demeanour lasted until some poor sap nearly wrinkled his suit while trying to hang it in the en-suite cloakroom. A deafening growl sent the trembling fellow scuttling from the room.

The rest were given very generous tips.

Soon after, you found Raphael rehearsing his speech in a mirror, repeating the same phrases three times in a row, "when youth was told their souls were worthless, easily replicated by machines". Each time he spoke, there was a subtle change in tone, as if he was trying to capture some emotion - you were not quite sure what he was getting at - was he trying to imitate genuine concern?

If so, he could work on his delivery.

He gave it another shot, the tension in his back muscles evident through his shirt.

"Excellent choice of attire, gattina," he gave you a look you approached. "Might I suggest an improvement? Not these trousers. The black pencil skirt with the white vertical stripes, the Saint Laurent one from the spring collection."

"It looks absurd on me," you looked away. "I don't have the body for it."

"You have the body for anything," he said. "Don't debate me on this. Slip into the skirt, return here and see how right I am”.

That damned skirt was a nightmare: so constricting that any wrong move felt like a tear waiting to happen; clearly designed by someone who either had never laid eyes on an actual woman or harbored a deep-seated resentment towards anyone the wrong size and proportion, which would be everyone.

Yet somehow, you managed to wriggle yourself into it and made your way back to him.

"Now that's what I want to see," Raul smiled. "A beautiful woman and all mine."

"It's two sizes smaller than what I wear".

"Come closer, you silly creature, and grasp how breathtaking you are."

He tugged you towards the full-length mirror and swept your hair to one side so that you could take in your entire reflection.

Only it wasn’t yours.

When you played Sims and tweaked the controls to create the ideal you, you ended up with someone like this. Every trait similar to what you had, only better. A lot better. Smoother skin, better hair, smaller waist, perkier tits.

"They will see you through my eyes," Raphael said as his hands slid under your blouse and cupped your breasts. "These mortals will seethe with jealousy, envying me for having you and you for having me."

The woman in the mirror looked like someone Raphael would choose to be his consort. The skirt looked perfect, as it was tailor made just for you.

"That’s not me," you said, mesmerized by the eerie reflection.

"Nonsense. You didn't know who you truly were until you met me," he whispered in your ear. "If it's not you I'm putting my arms around, why would you feel them?"

You felt his palms squeeze your breasts and roll your nipples between his fingers. His lips brush your neck. His growing bulge against your backside.

"Now would you be so kind?.." he asked.

You could swear the woman in the mirror was bending over before you did, eagerly offering herself, sliding her panties down to her knees and placing her palms on either side of the mirror for leverage. His hands kneaded your buttocks, spreading you apart as his erection pressed against your entrance.

Foreplay wasn't on his agenda, you realized with a shiver. True enough, he penetrated you with a single thrust. First sharp pain, then the very familiar pleasure, liquid and pitch black and all-consuming.

"Look," he said. "Look at yourself. Look at me. Marvel at what you see."

The woman in the mirror moaned in response, pleasure etched on her face as the devil behind her ravaged. Her features twisted and blurred in ever-changing motion, skin wobbling like waves of water; she was shifting between all the women you ever dreamed of being - one moment Tav, then Christine, then Sarah Williams.

"It's not real," you moaned.

His eyes remained fixed on the mirror the whole time he fucked you. You arched backwards into him, grinding against him with each thrust, skin slapping against skin.

"There is no reality," he whispered back. "Other than what you see in that mirror”.

His thrusts came harder now, jolting you against the cold glass. The woman in the mirror seemed to have gone insane from how well she was being fucked, her face twisted in a barely human grimace of bliss.

"Climax," he commanded with a snap of his fingers.

You saw the woman in the mirror go limp in his arms, a look of absent bliss on her face, and then remember that the woman was you. A jagged sound ripped from you. Your body responded to the command like a dog thrown a biscuit; your cunt tightened around his cock once.

Twice.

The woman in the mirror morphed again; now it’s someone you’d seen a thousand times, the weird pale girl nobody ever gave a second look.

You.

Thrice.

The mirror you were propped against shattered - spectacularly so, its razor-sharp fragments raining down like confetti.

"Hang on," you managed to gurgle out in sheer terror as you tumbled, losing your balance. "Raphael, hold on..."

He didn't. Instead, he let gravity take over and you fell face-first into the broken mirror below, his weight following right after. Your scream of pleasure morphed into a wail of agony as countless tiny shards opened up on your skin; mutilating, cutting, obliterating.

oh god it hurts

Raphael groaned as he drove you deeper and deeper into the jagged fragments, your writhing and screaming doing nothing to deter him. The shards under your skin thrust in and out with each thrust, piercing right through you, through your face.

oh god it hurts; pulsated the single thought. The pain was nothing like you had felt before; it was the clearest sensation your clouded mind had ever processed.

A growing pool of blood spread like spilled wine on the white marble tiles beneath you. You closed your eyes tightly, but that didn't make the blood disappear. You blinked them open again... then closed them...

Blood was still there. Raphael thrust once, so hard there wasn’t a single shard left that didn’t hurt you.

Twice.

Three times, and he came inside you, spitting curses in Italian between ragged breaths.

The pain suddenly vanished as if snapped away by his fingers; but its ghostly memory kept your tears flowing.

"I swear to God, kitten" Raul murmured as he rolled off you, "the way you're screaming would make anyone think I'm murdering you."

You opened your eyes and stared at the perfectly white tiles.

No blood.

No shards. No cuts. No pain.

Nothing. You looked up in the mirror: the Gorgeous Version of You looked back. You looked down on yourself.

Exactly how you always wanted to be.

You laughed in blissful abandon. Then, you rolled onto your back, catching sight of Raul's gobsmacked expression which made you laugh even harder.

read the rest on ao3

#knock knock #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3

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donna-rinascimentale · 7 months ago

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i just KNOW den den tumblr would go hard

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🪝🔁 jolie-rouger reblogged westendgirl

🪝 jolie-rouger

ok i know we went through this months ago but i just found out overflowing sasaki has my birth month on the sexy pirate calendar this year and i just—

listen if having a pirate kink is wrong i don’t wanna be right LOL

🎠 westendgirl Follow

Please delete this. In my country, everyone knows someone who was killed by pirates. It breaks my heart that I can’t browse safely without people like you making light of my trauma.

🪝 jolie-rouger

aren’t you the marine who got called out for spending work money on a PX5

#no but i was like. where have i heard that name before #and i snoogle it and see that’s THE westendgirl #never leaving this website. #rouge speaks

24 notes

🤖🔁 codepunk reblogged uminosora

❄️ uminosora Follow

hey im laine/stealth. 22 they/he. grand line (south side).

yes, this is a sora fanblog. i want to make it clear that i do NOT condone irl marines. AMAB. yes even your marine dad or sister or grandpa

minors dni im not a babysitter

i have an electrical engineering apprenticeship so PLEASE PLEASE talk to me about it ill love you forever

i’m an artist! i post my work under #my art !!

if we are mutuals please tw injections, wasps, and tra/fal/gar la/w (individually or with my catchall #laine don’t look or #stealth don’t look)

extended byf/dni under the cut

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

#laine.txt #intro #sora warrior of the sea #umi no senshi sora #artists on tumblr

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👒 fuckyeahmugiwaras Follow

XX0531 ♥

#MONKEY D LUFFY #STRAW HATS #STRAW HAT PIRATES #LUFFY #HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH A LITTLE GUY #A FACE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD. TOO PURE. #ADMIN BARTO #ALSO BY THE WAY MOD HEBI IS TAKING A SMALL HIATUS. WILL EXPLAIN IN A LONGER POST

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The new CRIMINAL S/S 20XX collection is here.

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🍤 lia-writes Follow

SOOOO sorry for the slow updates guys! I live near the Newgate protests and my house got molotoved so I lost internet access for a few weeks BUT I’ve been writing the next chapter down on paper & just transferred it so here it is!!

Lift Me Away - Roku x Reader - Chapter 3

You find yourself trembling, not knowing what struck you. The man’s arms envelop you gently, knowing his strength, his presence otherworldly. He feels too perfect to be human—and yet he’s warm and he exhausts, the way he’s exhausted protecting you. He tilts you upright, careful of your weak knees, and looks you in the eye.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

#monkey ball #monkey ball roku #roku x reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #roku x fem reader

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🃏 meadowoftheroad Follow

“i don’t find sea kings cute” ok??? sometimes a little baby has 18 rows of teeth

#sea king mention #meadow rambles #i just want to take them home is that weird?? #little noodles #1k #5k #10k #50k

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🌁🔁 vanillacrypt reblogged 4kari

♾️ rokusbreastimplants Follow

daily reminder that it’s okay not to engage with what’s on the news lately. breathe. you’re not a bad person for feeling overwhelmed; you’ll be alright. if you’ve been scrolling for too long, go get up and take a walk/have a glass of water. the internet isn’t going anywhere; your mental health comes first.

🌁 vanillacrypt

wise words from rokusbreastimplants

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🎀 nanayagi Follow

#soul king #brook #soul king brook #soul brother #soul sister #soul king fandom

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🪃🔁 criminaldildo reblogged bone2beasoulsister

👤 dressrosan-dreamgirl-deactivated20xx0714

I usually don’t like to delve into drama, but I can’t stay silent any longer. Mod Hebi of @fuckyeahmugiwaras is an EXTREMELY predatory individual. I will not be disclosing any of my sources, for my safety and theirs, as she has an irl documented history of hostility towards her critics.

To start, Mod Hebi is inappropriately fond of Straw Hat Luffy (who she met irl when she was in her 30s and he was 17). I’ve been told she’s tried to flirt with him on several occasions, given him large gifts, and tried to guilt him into choosing time with her over his female crewmates.

Literally kicks kittens??? I shit you not they say they’ve seen her straight up BARRELING kittens across the floor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

🦴 bone2beasoulsister Follow

i believe it. the way she never updated about anyone else, only luffy, and left admin barto to do all the hard work… it was always off to me.

🪃 criminaldildo Follow

where is this coming from??

yeahhh not going along with this until there’s ACTUAL proof. mod hebi is very much a solo stan but. kicking kittens… how are we supposed to take these cartoon villain allegations seriously 💀💀

🪃 criminaldildo Follow

of course. deactivating when people question them.

#i know we stan criminals here but can we as a fandom please express some critical thinking for ONCE

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🏺🔁 00tsugi reblogged mad-gadfly

🎑 take-me-to-sea Follow

scheduling my lobotomy at doskoi panda

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🌁🔁 vanillacrypt reblogged sailingacademic

🛳️ marines Follow

Pursue truth. Fight for justice.

Do you have what it takes to join the Marines? Learn more at gonavy.🐌.

👒 fuckyeahmugiwaras Follow

🕊️ mad-gadfly Follow

🏺 00tsugi Follow

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🥡 addtocatalogue Follow

ppl in the “pirate fandom” who only orbit “safe” pirates like cavendish or boa hancock are WEAK. buddy if you saw the pirates i want to fuck you’d hurl.

#pirate fandom #pirates #if he’s eaten a fruit in the last week i do not want him

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💫🔁 sunsetsoveralabasta reblogged

💫 sunsetsoveralabasta Follow

some homeless guy on horseback gave me a nice looking apple… im hungry and curious.

💫 sunsetsoveralabasta Follow

hoptal

#in my defense the horse was very cute

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bakuliwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Video Game Fanfiction Table of Contents

Disclaimer: 18+, Minors DNI!!!!!!

Baldur's Gate 3

Just to Be Held (M): Astarion x Tav, His shoulders slump as he releases a heavy sigh. He’s been worn down by your patience, worn down by years of keeping everything to himself. Here you are, offering up companionship without any expectation. Here you are, sitting in front of him, telling him that you actually, for some gods’ forsaken reason, like spending time with him and you’re not expecting any sort of compensation from him. So why is he trying so desperately to push you away? Astarion and Tav share a quiet, peaceful moment together along their journey. Astarion learns that he is valued and loved. Tumblr, AO3

The Elder Scrolls

Devotion (18+): Cicero x Listener, He worships her, every piece of her. All of his Listener must be worshipped, as ordained. Cicero, sweet Cicero, eager to please. Eager to serve. His lips on hers, his hands roving, searching, exploring. Venerating. He dies inside her, and it is glorious. He would die a thousand times in her, as many times as she wanted. Immolating in her light over and over and over again. Cicero is unsure of this new Listener, but his feelings are muddled and confusing. What will happen when the Listener is forced to choose to take or spare his life? Tumblr, AO3.

Legend of Zelda

Ebb and Flow (18+): Prince Sidon x Reader, “I will not accept that all we’re meant to be are star-crossed lovers,” Sidon states passionately, his tone filled with a steady resolve, “I cannot accept it. Was it not here that I pledged myself to you? And you to me? Was it not here that we promised our hearts to one another? Aren’t we more than just crossing tides?” Sidon is given earth shattering news. His duty as a Zora Prince outweighs all else. But how can he accept that when his love for you is so deep? Tumblr, AO3.

Stardew Valley

Love Letters (18+): Elliott x Reader, My Muse! You inspire in me such vivid dreams that when I wake to find my bed empty, I despair! I ache for you, body and soul. How I long to return to you, scoop you up in my arms, and ravish you from evening until dawn (Beyond dawn! For dawn does not limit my undying love, my eternal passion for you). Though weary from this whirlwind tour, I am never too weary to show you the depths of my adoration for you. I will return to you early next week, and I am beside myself with excitement. Elliott returns home from his book tour and the Farmer has a sultry surprise for him. Tumblr, AO3.

Dark Souls

Lunar Halo (18+): Gwyndolin x OC, Gods do not require witnesses. So in the sanctity of the Holy Church of Anor Londo, Gwyndolin weds a mortal woman, a marriage that takes place with sightless statues and eyeless stained glass figures for guests. Veiled by cloth woven of moonlight, Gwyndolin guides his Beloved Star to the altar. Her robes are redolent of the night that enshrouds the earth, glimmering diamonds and sweeping swathes of indigo pooling around her feet as she glides up the aisle. Iridescent moonstone enamels her hand and with the promise of fealty, of love for eternity, the Dark Sun is wed. And a mortal has been anointed his wife. A tale of how the Dark Sun came to love a woman born of the Dark Soul. AO3

Fire Emblem

Restless (18+): Xander x F!Reader, As leader of the combined Hoshidan and Nohrian armies, you find yourself growing restless one night, plagued with troubling thoughts. You decide some fresh air and quiet reflection under the stars might do you some good; but, you run into Xander, also lost in thought, and decide to spend some time together. AO3

Slip Away (18+): Xander x Gender-Neutral Reader, Xander finds himself unable to unwind at his birthday party, until a certain someone whisks him away. Tumblr, AO3

To Walk a Path of Light (M): Jeritza von Hrym x GN!Byleth, Jeritza’s desire for Byleth was sparked long before the goddess had even conceived of either of their forms. Their fates have always been intertwined... Long after the war has ended, Jeritza seeks out a familiar face, while the Death Knight seeks a battle. Tumblr, AO3

Gentle (18+): Jeritza Von Hrym x OC, "She is soft. And in her softness, she dissolves whatever sharpness, whatever edge I have. In perfumed sheets and gilded sunlight, I am, for a moment, vulnerable. My gentility clambers out from where it's been buried deep for so many years. The Death Knight dies in her embrace, and from him blooms a new creature." Jeritza finds himself drawn to one of Garreg Mach's newest professors. Tumblr: Chapter 1, AO3

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ctimenefic · 1 month ago

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sorry it’s me again with another deranged notification!! i can’t stop thinking about three’s a crowd like…… I would devour any morsel about that universe……… alex and george’s childhood together?? or when george was the voice in alex’s head and then… 😵‍💫 and/or would love to hear about how you conceived of this fic bc it’s soooo well-crafted!!!

three's a crowd, like almost everything I write now, came from me haranguing @latecomersprivilege in Tumblr DMs, a format that is ludicrously hard to search/look back on. I simply cannot scroll back until March I will die A LIE, I did it, it took like fifteen earth minutes but I have the origin and it is THIS POST. I saw it at the end of February and immediately sent to her with "Why is this George-coded?" And from there I spitballed an idea that is pretty much 90% accurate to the fic as it is today, but without the bones of the reveal and with a slightly different ending, plus an epilogue that I have drafted, but which didn't really fit in the final version.

I left just that concept in my bunnies doc for a good four months to marinade, and then when @motorsport-halloween got announced I realised that it fit the theme, and my brain had rotated the thought enough for me to have a crack at writing it. I can't work on one thing at once, so I managed it in dribs and drabs alongside other stuff basically right up until the deadline and @latecomersprivilege had to endure so much caterwauling from me about it, and was the kindest, most patient nursemaid while I threw myself about the room like a frantic Victorian infant.

The response has been utterly confounding to me in the best possible way. Three days ago I genuinely believed the story didn't work.

Below are some very garbled thoughts on George as the guy in the chair. Spoilers etc.

So I envisioned something like a centralised command centre for 'superheroes' and their support squads. Let's call it the Parahuman Intervention Team. It'd be slightly worn in, not quite squeaky superhero clean and neat, kind of like an NGO going slightly off the boil. George isn't the only person on Alex's squad, but he's been there since the beginning. He was the first person to suggest Alex was special, when they were kids. The rest of the squad support Alex in the field, but he's the guy in the chair, eyes on everything. Subconsciously modelling himself on Q in Skyfall and enduring Alex's teasing about it. His set up would be at least five monitors, close to surround sound, trying to get Alex to wear at least four more sensors and cameras in his suit than anyone else thinks is necessary for the data.

He'd have his own space, away from the main lab, so that his focus can be total during missions, no distractions. Of course, that means on the day it happens, there's about 45 seconds before anyone can make it through bulletproof glass into George's space, shut off the sound of screaming and force his eyes away from the 4K high definition mess.

#answered asks #three's a crowd #wait i just realised you meant a riff on the 'hard for the voice in your ear' line NOT the organisational structure of heroes I'm so sorry

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weabooweedwitch · 1 year ago

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Most women your age are getting married and starting their families and you've never even had a bf 🤡 it's so over for you better get used to coping with ur crippling loneliness with maladaptive daydreaming, yandere asmr videos, drugs and self-insert fanfic because that's all you'll ever have now. Your youth is gone and you're still fat af even after you lost weight (probably gained it all back by now lmao). You could have made something of urself whem you were 20 by losing weight and going to college but instead you laid around and wasted all of your youth and now it's too late. No man will ever want to deal with your baggage of being poor, old, unwanted, uneducated (lmao how do I have more education than you and I'm 10 years younger? dumbass doesnt even have her GED), cringey age-inappropriate hobbies, mentally ill and not even having the decency to go to therapy and take meds, fat, ugly face, loser and loner with no irl friends, crazy family, looking old for your age, whored yourself out on a sugar daddy website, rotten teeth due to your own laziness, thinning frizzy hair and gross bulky glasses, drug addicted alcoholic who's probably going to be homeless for the majority of her life, mean person attacking minor aged rape victims like jesus christ you're so fucking worthless SO many red flags so much baggage no-one will ever want to deal with that. You don't even know how worthless you are

You know, every time you send me a message like this, I think of the person from your friend group who came forward a while back. You know, the one you don't like to acknowledge tried to apologize on your behalf. Anyways, every time you insult my appearance I just think of what your friend said

So i get it sweetie, youre mad at mommy and daddy and you're lashing out. That's why half the time you're repeating things i previously said back to me and parroting shallow insults with a very small vocabulary. The second i call you fatherless, you call me fatherless. I use thw word maladaptive and, suddenly you know that word too and juat HAVE to use it as well. I get it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

You're honestly just making yourself look so pitiable. You realize you've already painted yourself as such a dumb jackass that every single time you do this I basically just laugh and ignore you, and then people who know me and are friends or WANT TO be friends with me see how you treat me publicly and they all say "yeah wow who's this absolutely demonic little cunt acting like this without any reason". Like. What is the end goal here. Making yourself look as petty and stupid as possible. Meanwhile, what did someone else in your friend group say? The ones you lied to? Including Callie, the actual victim whose trauma you're basically trying to appropriate for yourself

Anyways yeah I just wanted to like show you the actual screenshots of the conversation I had with your friend back in June, which also to everyone else, yeah June, that's when she lied to her own friends and said she would stop doing this. She lied to her friends because all of them told her this was making them massively uncomfortable, so now she's. Being an internet troll in secret behind their backs 😂 they were going to tattle on you to your mom so you lied so they wouldn't check tumblr anymore because you're such a weird angry little freak that this has become a hobby for you

I'm sad? I'M sad? I don't even know your fucking name meanwhile you've scrolled through all of my blogs repeatedly for months cataloging details about me for the sheer purpose of trying to poorly insult me.

Like genuinely 90% of the reason I'm answering this is to basically wave a flag saying "hey everyone if you've ever seen or received weird asks of photoshopped porn of me or pictures of my actual family taken from their facebooks or saw the transphobic racist fake dating profile she made with one of my selfies or you ever received a bitch lasagna or Zalgo text, it was this cringey little lolcow right here"

But I also wanted to show you screenshot proof that you make your own friends super uncomfortable and that they started talking about your personal business to defend me over you. So. Yeah I guess that stings huh?

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alvaeris · 20 days ago

Text

my friend dropped a glass on her foot and cut through 90% of her tendon i don’t know why scrolling through tumblr and seeing a post about cutting tendons reminded me of that HELP. but guys it is not fun!! that being said i really wanna cut someone’s tendons now. just to see what happens without immediate surgery. for the science!!

#🦕 dinosaurs have feathers

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candiedeyess · 1 year ago

Text

-ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

a bit of cc that i love using ! ( pt 1 )

recently i made a little ( 9gb ) folder of cc for my friend, so i thought id make this list of stuff for anyone who needs it ! i do not include hair or clothes in this, i have umm,, a lot, and will need to sort through them all at a later time ^^; if a link doesn't work, please let me know !

-ˋˏ CAS ˎˊ˗

want some pretty lighting while you make your sims ? i love all of these from @mosaica ! 1 | 2 | 3

if you have a lot of cc and hate scrolling so much, i highly recommend weerbesu's more columns mod !

-ˋˏ body ˎˊ˗

for skins, i really need to try out some more one of these days,, i mainly use kijiko's mm skintones for the base tone, and @saruin's kokoro skin overlay ! i love how soft it makes my sims look ♡

speaking of saruin, i also adore her body presets sooo much ! peach pairs super beautifully with the soft kokoro skin for a cute thicc girlie, and her andro presets are perfect for a curvy, more feminine, boy without using a female frame ! :) + these flat chest presets and top !

next is @miikocc, with 5 lovely presets for your fem sims which vary quite a bit in body shape and proportion ^^

honestly, i have so many sliders that im not sure if they all even work at the same time,, BUT ! here are a few i use regularly :) ♡ miikocc: pouty lips | chin slider ♡ iconic: hat control | glasses control ♡ @obscurus-sims has amazing nose sliders that i dont think i could live without ! ( sfs link incase patreon doesn't work for you ) ♡ @ice-creamforbreakfast: 1 | 2 | 3 ♡ and a cute little nose scale slider by @kikiw-sims

finally for the body, a couple tattoo blushes: tart body blush by @ts4-parise in her cherry overdose collection, a colourful body blush from @pyxiidis' interstellar set, and pixelsimdreams' full body blush ( which i couldn't find the original dl, so i put it on dropbox, but here's a reblog of it )

tacking on these gradient fingers, hands, and arms by habsims and these inky fingers by @treatbeetle !

-ˋˏ face ˎˊ˗

most of what i use are pyxiidis' miscellany nosemasks, here and here, as well as miiko's face kits no1 and no2, her lip kit, and her eye kit ! @thepeachyfaerie has a cute details collection, as well as some pretty makeup sets ! 1 | 2

next is a couple little items i really like using: ♡ @solacedo's beauty marks: 1 | 2 ( she also has a ton of tattoos ! ) ♡ @shimmatteog has a lot of cool stuff, like these mouth corners ♡ @simbience's kissed freckles are really cute as well ♡ and so are chih's small random moles :)

-ˋˏ end of pt 1 ! ˎˊ˗

i think tumblr doesn't want my post this long,, so um pt 2 in a few min ig ? ^^;

#cc finds #ts4 genetics #ts4 skin #ts4 skin details #ts4 skin overlay #ts4 body preset #ts4 body #ts4 blush #ts4 sliders #ts4 eye presets

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stayycalm · 3 months ago

Text

Megaverse Chapter 1

"This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, places, events, or incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.”

in other words, dude this is a fanfic it’s not that deep.

ENJOY!

this story is heavily influenced by the Firebird series

“they told us it was impossible, that it was science fiction. but when we discovered the multiverse the possibilities became endless.”

welcome to the stray kids hot megaverse.

read on ao3

Chapter 1

My head is spinning, and the world around me seems to be in constant motion. my body buzzed with an unusual hum I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision.

my hands hit a smooth cool surface as I gasped, slowly and the surroundings began to stabilize. It worked. I jumped to a different dimension.

I laugh, slightly hysterically as I press my forehead into the glass in front of me, trying to slow my pounding heart as I grin to myself, Chris would freak out if he knew what I just did.

The thought of him brings a pang of sadness. he was more than a friend to me; he was the family I always wanted.

I bounced around foster families for years, no one really wanted me.

that was until I came to the Bang house, For the first time in my seemingly worthless life, I was wanted.

I remember the first day I met Chris. I was thirteen and still very unsure of this new family.

it being the fifteenth family I had stayed with, I knew not to get too attached. Mrs. Bang opened the front door and waved for me to follow her inside.

my hands tightening on my backpack straps, I took the first step into the unknown of this new house. Mrs. Bang traded her heels for a pair of cream-colored house slippers, and I moved to take off my sneakers, staring down at my plain black socks.

without saying a word, she set a pair of dark gray slippers in front of me. I looked up quickly, surprised by the gesture.

"Welcome home, Sydney," she said. Her voice was sweet, and her face showed something I had only imagined in my most lonely of daydreams—love. It was love in her eyes.

Tentatively, I slipped my feet into the slippers, the soft fabric providing just the right amount of support and comfort.

Once I was used to the new shoes, Mrs. Bang waved me down the hall.

"Come on, they can't wait to meet you."

I knew the Bang family already had three kids: two boys and one girl. Hannah, I remembered her name and thought of how my last foster house had five girls who all despised my presence.

Rounding the corner into the living room, I bumped into a soft wall. Looking up, I saw a bright smile beaming down at me.

"Hi! I'm Chris.”

I snapped back to the present, digging my nails into my palms—a nasty habit I was never able to break.

Wincing at the pain, I blinked through tear-filled eyes at the tiny red slices in my palm. I relaxed my fingers, noticing that my nails were long, sharp, and painted bright red.

I stood there, staring at my nails in awe.

Nervously chewing my nails had never allowed me the luxury of a manicure like this.

This Evelette was clearly much more self-assured, judging by the tight black dress that clung to the curves of my body in a way that I would never feel comfortable with back home.

I stepped back from the wall, blinking hard and wiping away the tears, ignoring the slight black smudges on my fingers.

I clutch at the necklace resting on my barely covered chest, holding it up as I read the small screen as it scrolls through my dimensional coordinates.

when it comes to the science behind this I’m at a loss, but what appears to be an ordinary necklace is in fact the most advanced piece of scientific equipment in my dimension.

Growing up in the Bang household gave me the security I lacked and Chris was an amazing older brother figure, not only for his kindness but also for his ambition and genius.

from day one he took me under his wing, showing me around the house, and helping me get settled into my new room.

he introduced me to his friends and tried his best to include me in any way he could, though he was smarter than I could ever hope to be he did come in handy when it came to my science homework.

and not only was he ridiculously smart he was a champion swimmer, a straight-A student, and graduated as valedictorian before going on to attend one of the most advanced science colleges in the world.

While he was there, he made a few friends who soon became his work partners as they worked towards their final project.

One of his partners was Han Jisung, a slightly crazy Physics major who referred to their group as ‘3Racha.’

I blinked at him, the meaning of what he just said lost on me. He grinned, leaning back on the couch I had been occupying for the past hour.

"What?" I asked, not getting the meaning behind the name.

"3Racha!" he said again, and I shook my head, still not getting it. He snorted and rolled his eyes.

"It's a play on Sriracha, and since there are three of us—"

I blinked and nodded, starting to understand at least a little bit before he finished what he was saying.

"And because we are HOT!" He finished, winking at me as he leaned his face towards mine.

I felt my face heat up and laughed awkwardly, looking away from Han to see Changbin staring at us, unamused.

Our eyes locked for a moment before he broke our stare to talk to Han.

"Stop saying it like that. You'll weird people out," his voice was low and serious as he went back to whatever crazy math problems he was working on.

Being the math major of the group, he was in charge of the majority of the numbers and statistics for their final project, a project Chris had yet to share with me.

Chris always kept me in the loop about his life, but this was one thing he couldn’t share with me.

“not yet,” he said for what must be the thousandth time, and I all but whined as he chuckled patting my head before moving past me to talk to Changbin.

I admired him for everything he accomplished. But this project was different. He was secretive, and it made me curious. What could be so important that he wouldn’t even tell me, did he not trust me?

Despite my curiosity, I respected his privacy. I knew how much this project meant to him and his friends. And although I didn’t always understand the technical details of their work, I was proud of them.

They were working on something big, something groundbreaking.

Chris, Han, and Changbin were an inseparable trio. Their bond was strong, and their passion for their work was inspiring.

Watching them work together reminded me of how lucky I was to have Chris in my life. He was more than a brother; he was my hero.

Han and Changbin had become like family as well, not only to me but to the rest of the Bang family. I couldn’t remember a time they hadn’t been over for dinner in the past two years since Chris and them started their final project.

Han was a flirt and a terrible one at that, but he’s only like that with me according to Chris and Changbin, he can’t talk to any other girl to save his life. his social anxiety prevents him from doing more than waving hello to a girl.

Apparently, I’m the exception to his anxiety seeing as he seems to live to make me flustered, Changbin on the other hand seems to do everything in his power to avoid me.

I don’t know much about him besides the fact that he’s a wiz with numbers and that he’s allergic to cats, the one conversation we’ve had plays in my brain more often than I’d like to admit.

the night was cold, colder than your usual Australian nights. laid on the back porch watching the night sky as I let my mind wander to what my life would have been like if I hadn’t come here.

my brain did this a lot when I felt the overwhelming love that comes from the Bang family, wondering if I’d still be here if they hadn’t taken me in, and given me the love I never dreamed of feeling.

I’m brought out of my mental spiral but the sound of the sliding glass door opening and closing, I turn my head to see the wide frame of Changbin as he leans back against the door.

with his eyes closed and his chin tilted towards the sky, he looks handsome and less scary than he normally does with his impassive eyes that see everything but reveal nothing.

he breathes deeply before opening his eyes, his gaze meeting mine almost immediately. as if he knew I was watching him.

my cheeks warm and I pray it’s too dark for him to notice.

“ what are you doing out here?” his voice is different, softer than it normally is.

I sit up from my place on the deck shrugging.

“ needed to cool off a little.”

he nods not saying anything, he doesn’t move from his place by the door and I sit there watching him curiously.

“ you know we couldn’t have done this without you.”

his voice startles me out of my staring and it takes me a moment to process his words.

“What?” my voice is strangled as I try not to choke on the air I inhale far too quickly.

“ the project, Chris says you are the one who inspired him to start the project,” he said as if I should have known.

I blinked at him, shocked as this was news to me, I opened and closed my mouth trying to find something to say.

“ you mean a lot to him,” his voice had a strange tone as he frowned before clearing his throat, looking away from me before adding.

“ to all of us.” I blinked thinking I had misheard him.

before I could respond there was a knock on the door and we both jumped at the sudden disturbance, Chanbin turned and opened the door and Chris stepped out with us.

“Hey! Mom brought out some cheesecake for us, you better come get some before Han eats it all.” he walks over to me holding out a hand as he chuckles.

I smiled and took his hand letting him pull me up as we moved to head inside, Chris went in first and I followed close behind as I past Changbin I felt a small touch on my head.

I paused turning to look seeing the leaf pinched between his fingers, then looking up to meet his eyes. his gaze reflected an emotion I couldn’t quite place, he almost looked pained.

maybe he knew what he was going to do, maybe he had already set into motion the very thing that would shatter the very foundations of my life.

With trembling hands, I looked for my phone. When I found it and unlocked it with Face ID, I thanked the lord for the technology in this dimension being similar to mine.

Trying to guess this Evelette’s password was not a game I wanted to play. I quickly opened the notes app, typing a note in all caps so that when I faded into the background of this dimension’s Evelette, she would read it and reawaken me within herself.

"FIND SEO CHANGBIN."

#stayycalm #lee felix #stray kids #bang chan #changbin #lee know #han jisung #hyunjin #seungmin #jeongin #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #megaverse #straykids fanfic

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jecksaa · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Frolic

Idea: A perfect one liner by the wonderful @diligentcranberry <3 girls a bloody genius Summary: Being hunted by Sebastian in the Forbidden Forest after giving him an insight to your desires… one catch though, you are wandless. Pairings: Sebastian x F! Insert (might change that to either she/her of MC, unsure atm. Let me know what you think) Warning: MINORS DNI !! 18+ Content, not for your eyes! Teasing, kissing, being chased, hunted, no plot just smut, edging, pred!seb, protective seb, one shot, everyone cums, except the dead guys, murder! Word Count: 7.6K A/N: This is the first ever smut I have written, any advice is appreciated. Thank you to @slytherizz for reading this before I posted it. It is also on Ao3, but thought I would also post my work on Tumblr as well. Different Strokes for Different Folks.

You and Sebastian had been spending time together in Hogsmeade, taking a well-deserved break from studying for your upcoming NEWT’s. You had been stuck in that Merlin forsaken library for weeks. The weather had finally been nice that day, walking through the streets, free of worry and stress. Visiting all your favourite shops together, Honeydukes was always necessary along with Tomes and Scrolls. You always adored perusing the books, trying to find your next fixation.

Both of you always enjoyed each other’s company, it felt natural. With everything that happened in your fifth year, you both had this unspoken understanding of each other. Never judging, never condemning, or never allowing the other to feel alone. Sebastian had truly become someone you trusted and cared for. More than cared for, over time you both had made each other aware of the attraction. Stealing kisses while studying, sneaking around the dungeons late at night together. You had never gone further then kissing, nor did you openly discuss your feelings for one another. He filled your dreams at night, always waking when you reached the peak. He made you frustrated, but you needed to know if he felt the same.

A trip to Hogsmeade was never complete without stopping into the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer or two. The atmosphere was the usual, chatter of the patrons, music playing in the background, the smell of butterbeer and fire whiskey filling the air and their senses. There is always something comforting and safe about being here, your reminded of your first time here. Sebastian brought you here after the troll attack, this is where he and Sirona protected you from Rookwood. A home away from home if you will. You were comfortable here, tonight maybe a bit too comfortable as you settled into your regular corner, butterbeers in hand. You needed a bit of confidence if you were going to approach the subject.

Sebastian sat beside you as he normally does, but this was different. He was closer than normal, his shoulder slumped into yours. He had never shown any type of affection in public before, it sent your mind into a tizzy. You watched him as he downed his drink, the refreshing noise that escaped his lips, the liquid catching on his chin, the little bits of foam on his upper lip. He was delicious and you have clearly had too much sun. You began sipping on your drink, partially to distract yourself and partially because if he was going to play that game, so were you. Your whole body felt warm, like it was on fire. Before you knew it you had downed your drink, wiping the foam from your lips, a heavy sigh leaving you.

Sebastian chuckled at your display, leaning into you more “Something wrong, love?”

You shock your head, grabbing Sirona’s attention for two more drinks. She nodded in your direction and sent two full butterbeer’s your way. Sebastian’s expression was curious, paying no mind to the boy pressed into you. You grab your drink and begin to drown your frustrations. Butterbeer is weak, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Just enough to boost your confidence.

The noise echoed through the Three Broomsticks as you slammed your tenth glass onto the wooden table, your sigh was heavier, breathier. “You sure nothing’s wrong, love?” His voice was irritating. “NO, noth-in wrong, love!” Your words were a little slurred, but you felt fine. You raise your hand to grab Sirona’s attention again, Sebastian pulls it back down, holding your hand beside him.

“I think that’s enough, love…” He lingered on that word, his stupid smug smirk pulling at the corners.

You snatched your hand from his, climbing over him to get out from the corner table, tripping on your feet as they got caught on the wooden bench. Sebastian chuckles at your feminine display and follows behind you, stopping to pay Sirona as you march your sorry self out of the pub.

“Wait up would you.” You could hear his feet chasing after you as you made it through Hogsmeade, through the archway and over the bridge.

“And why should I?” You were trying to protest but you really were not sounding convincing, the weak alcohol clouding your thoughts.

“Because something is clearly wrong, and I would like to know what I’ve done wrong this time.”

You were as quiet as a mouse, and about as small as one. You wanted to yell and scream about how frustrated you were with him, about how he made you feel inside and out. How dreams of him plagued the night, his hands caressing your body, his lips kissing all over, his… You felt the heat creep up your neck, you shook it off. You concluded that the alcohol was not helping.

He was a couple steps to you left, making sure to keep distance between you as you walked back to the castle. He was fiddling with his fingers; you could see him checking in on you every few feet. It was beginning to infuriate you.

“You want to know what’s wrong with me…” It erupted out of you, maybe the alcohol was helping, or maybe it was all too much.

“Yes, please, love.”

“That. That is what is wrong. You call me love, you have for years and yet all you do is steal kisses.”

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you?” His full attention was on you, eyebrow cocked in question.

“I did, I do. But I want more. I don’t just want to dream about it, Seb. I want you completely.”

He froze, you followed. His head cocked to the side like a puppy.

“You have dreams about me.”

“That’s the part you want to discuss.” You swore you had never met a more infuriating man in your life.

Talking a step towards you “Yes, love. I would very much like to discuss the dreams I am present in, what exactly do I do in them.”

“That’s not important. What is important that we get back to the castle. It is almost curfew.” You turned on your heels, trying to put more distance between. You were not about to be made a fool by Sebastian Sallow.

You got all put two steps before his hand was grabbing your wrist, spinning you back to face him. “Don’t be like that. Please tell me, I would really like to know.”

“I would prefer not to discuss my sex dreams with you, Sebastian!” Your hand flew to try and stop yourself, but it was too late. Shit, you really hadn’t meant to say that.

“Go on, love.” He was doing that on purpose, then you would match that. You have had enough of his little game.

“Fine.” You watched his expression shift from his usual playful demeanor to serious, eyes narrowed on you. He was listening intently.

“In my dreams, we are in the library, a broom closet, an empty classroom. Your hands like to roam, your lips like to explore. You suck and bite at my skin, My nails scratch at yours.” Every step Sebastian takes towards you, you step back. “You are always so eager to rip my clothes off, I take my time. Your fingers feel good inside me; your cock fits my hand like it was made for it.” His gaze darkened; you could hear the softest groan in his throat. “You throw me against a bookshelf, against a wall, bend me over a table and you fuck me till I can’t breathe, till I can’t walk, till I am no longer coherent.”

The cold stone of the archway to the Forbidden Forest was pressed into your back, the ridged stone that protruded would have pierced your skin if not for your shirt, you hissed at the pain. Sebastian’s hands gripping your shoulders, his fingertips felt like they were going to leave small bruises in their wake. It happened so quickly, you blinked, and he was there.

“You are a fucking tease, you know that right?” Sebastian’s voice was gravelly, it cut through your mind and buried itself deep.

“N…no.” you were trembling under his grasp. It was odd to hear him speak like that; to grip you to the point of pain. It was confusing, your mind was trying to catch up to the tone of his words. Was he serious, did it affect him that much.

“You sure, love.” His breath was scolding on you neck, he grazed his fingers along your skin as he withdrew his hold on you. “Because I would love nothing more than to completely unravel you in the most forbidden place known to wizardkind.”

It made you shiver, your knees buckling at the thoughts that now raced through your mind, he couldn’t be serious. Where did the Sebastian you knew go, the man who was always gentle with you, even when stealing moments together. This was different.

“Se..” Your voice caught in your throat, the slight of Sebastian undoing the first couple of buttons on his linen shirt. The freckles that ran across his chest and up his neck, he was like a dream you have had to many times. The realization hit you, the dream. You felt the heat run up your neck, hitting your cheeks. You just wanted to tease him the same way he was teasing you, you didn’t mean for it to go this far.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the slightly seductive tone in his voice.

“But, for making me wait… there will be a punishment. Understood, love?” His voice sent lightning through your entire body, it felt like your magic. Wild, untamed, and dark.

“Pu-Punishment?” Falling over the word, what could he mean by that, punishment for what… what did he mean by making him wait. You were the one confession about having dreams, fantasies about him. You had kissed multiple times in the last 2 years, but he always made sure it never went further. Had he wanted it to go further, he should have said something, done something.

You watch as Sebastian begins to crouch down in front of you, his hand on your ankles, running up the side of your calves, the back of your knees. A small whimper crept out; his touch was like fire on your skin. His left hand lingered on the back of your knee, gripping slightly. It made your breath hitch in your throat, the slightest moan escaping. His right hand ran under your woolen skirt, up your thigh. His thumb grazing the skin of your inner thigh, it was maddening. Your lips felt like they might begin to bleed it you bit down any harder.

“Yes, punishment.”

He pushes himself slowly back up, bringing his left hand to mimic his right. Both hands meet at your hips, thumbs pressing sharply in the gap between the end of your thigh and your hip bone. The feeling of the night air caressing your exposed skin, your skirt was gripped under Sebastian's hands. You felt your mind fading away, this was better than any dream you could have. Your behind was feeling the harsh stone being forced into the skin, The softest moan escaped as your front felt all of Sebastian’s arousal. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his neck, run your fingers threw his hair and let him take you completely. You didn’t care that you were still standing just off the main road that connected Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, you had waited long enough.

“It’s about time that the “Hero of Hogwarts” pays for making me wait this long, But I’ll be considerate first.” His smirk pulled at his lips.

“You’ll.. be considerate.” It was all but a breath coming out of your lungs. Your focus was fighting you, was it the alcohol… can’t be Butterbeer was weak, you had completely forgot what a light weight you were. Whatever it was, it was making you a little unsteady.

“Yes, love.” Eyebrow raised; smirk firmly placed. “I am going to give you a head start…”

“Head start?”

“Yes, but if I catch you, your punishment will be given.”

“Wha...”

Sebastian gestured to the entryway you were firmly pressed up against.

“You want me to run into the forbidden forest at night time.”

“Yes. However, one condition.” His right hand traveled back down your thigh; you heard a small familiar click of your wand holster that was strapped to your thigh. He withdrew his hands from your skin, letting out a small whimper at the loss of his touch, your skirt falling back to its wrongful place.

“This stays with me.” He held your wand in between his fingers, gently rolling it in place. Your breath protested at the presence of your wand in his hands. You would be defenseless in the forest, it was past curfew and yes you had cleared out most of the Poachers and Ashwinders, some still lurked though. Not to mention the natural predators that lived in the Forbidden Forest.

“No arguments!” He was demanding, you had never seen Sebastian like this. It was a sight you would very much like to get used too. Your expression must have been so easy to read. “Don’t worry. I would never let any harm come to you.” Under the demanding tone, there was reassurance. You knew that all too well, he had always protected you, always would protect you.

“Now that we have everything in order love, you have one thing left to do.” Rough, dark, and tempting. It hit that spot that had not stopped screaming since he opened his mouth.

You looked up at him, eyes wide barely focusing, mouth slightly parted, lips dry almost bruised, breath ridged, waiting…

“Run!” Sebastian’s eyes looked predatory as he watched your expression change from longing, confusion to realization. It was fear that settled, your mind pretested but your body knew better.

Clambering off the stone archway, you made a run for it into the forbidden forest. Your feet catching the wonky wooden bridge as you bolted, trying not to trip over. Your eyes trying to focus on the on the ground, the roots that had grown out from underneath and the loose rocks that were scattered throughout. You had been into the Forbidden Forest many times over the last three years, you knew where the paths lead too, what areas to avoid and what beasts roam where. But right now, your mind could only focus on one thing, running from Sebastian Sallow.

You weren’t sure how long you had been running, your chest ached from the short, harsh breaths that left your lungs. You needed to find somewhere to hide, to catch your breath, to rest your legs. You came to a fork in the dirt path, warning signs pointing in both directions. Familiar, you had been here before, mind racing trying to pinpoint… Jackdaw. You gave it your all, sprinting to your right down the path that you knew. Sebastian didn’t know about Jackdaw; he wouldn’t find you there.

At least this path had some light emanating from the little oil lanterns that were scattered around. You followed your memory, leading you to the small lake off to the left you took a quick rest, you really needed to catch your breath. You could hear all sorts of noises that were reserved for night in the forest, the wind in the trees above sounding like muffled screams, the howl of a wolf or mongrel close enough to hear but not see, the croak of dugbogs in the nearby swamp. Your hair stood on end, gooseflesh rising on your skin. The fear mixed with adrenaline was a combination you have felt before. This dizzying feeling was new, this was combined with the ache that had settled in your core, it was a tingling sensation that was uncomfortable. It needed to be scratched.

Crack.

The sound of small bits of tree breaking underfoot made your heart race, your eyes darting around to find nothing. It was time to move again, your legs moved quicker this time. The noise was enough to give you motivation, you didn’t know what punishment Sebastian had planned for you, but you weren’t about to find out this quickly. A part of you was excited though, the idea of being caught by Sebastian was enough to make the wetness in between your legs uncomfortable as you ran through the forest.

As you rounded the small cliff sides, a tiny light was emanating from between the trees in front of you. Making your way to hide among the trees, you needed to know of the potential threat, was it poachers or ashwinders or some idiot with a death wish deciding it was a good idea to go camping in the forest.

Your eyes scanned the encampment, cages littered the area, but they were empty. Good. But these were definitely poachers, you instinctively reach for your wand through the fake pocket you had created in your skirt for easy access to your wand holster. An annoyed sigh left your lips. Right, no wand. She was going to punish Sebastian herself for that one. If they were to see her, she would be as good as dead. Quietly looking around for somewhere to hide, a rocky opening in the cliff side was your safest option. As you get closer it looks like a cave opening, keeping your eyes on the poachers across the way, you back in letting the darkness eclipse you.

You closely watch the poachers, their movements to see if they plan to leave the encampment. They seem to be pretty set for the night, no sign of moving on or going on their own hunt, a similar hunt you were currently involved in. You wondered where Sebastian could be, was he still chasing you, had he given up, had he gone in the wrong direction. You hadn’t seen him since you entered the forest, your mind started to race. Was this a cruel joke for his amusement. You couldn’t shake the feeling of humiliation that snuck its way in. Sebastian would never, you forced it out of your head with a violent shake.

It was forceful, tight, warm. A hand covered your mouth, the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against something, someone. When did someone get behind you, had they been waiting for someone to come past, how did you not notice them. You needed to get away, thankfully you were a quick thinker, and thankfully the butterbeer had finally begun to wear off. You maneuvered your mouth, allowing one of their fingers to slip into your mouth. You bit down as hard as you could, hoping this would get them to loosen their grip.

The hand flew from your mouth, trying to shake the pain off. You could see a little bit of blood where you pierced the skin. “Fuck!” nothing but a growl, one you were familiar with. You tilted your head to the back to make sure. “Seb…” His hand that was wrapped around your waist whipped you around to face him, his bitten hand gripped your throat. The familiar feel of sharp stone and rocks pressed into your back as he forced you against the wall, your knees buckling at the pressure.

“Did you have to bite me.” Sebastian loomed over you, half-lidded gaze flicking between your eyes and lips. Just a little instinct made your lips part ever so slightly, your tongue wetting the smallest area as your eyes watched his. Something about him like this made you weak, made your core ache.

“I thought…” You could barely get the words out with the grip Sebastian had around your throat.

“I know who you thought I was, did you forget about me already?” He voice was almost playful, his eyebrow raised at the question.

You shock your head, you hadn’t stopped thinking of him. Just glad he didn’t leave you here, wandless. You relaxed a bit in Sebastian’s grip. That seemed to confuse him.

“I think you are forgetting, love. I caught you.” Forcing out a whimper from you with his hand. Leaning his face closer to yours, his warm breath on your cheeks. You didn’t forget, entirely. Your heart raced at the idea of Sebastian doing whatever he wanted to you, in such a place.

Your eyes darted to the entrance of this small cave, now that your eyes have adjusted you could make out where you were. You could see Sebastian a little clearer, he looked smug, satisfied even.

“Don’t worry about them. All you must do is be quiet” Sebastian’s free hand ran down the side of your waist, gripping you firmly against the stone wall. Before you could protest his lips were on yours, kissing you like it was the last thing he ever did. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, needing to explore your mouth, his mouth capturing the small needy moans you were producing. He tasted sweet, a combination of the lollies from Honeydukes and the Butterbeers from Three Broomsticks. The hand around your throat tilted your head back further so he could have full access for his tongue to slip in completely. Rolling it over yours, grazing the roof of your mouth, your teeth, it was desperate, and you were gone.

Your hands needed to find homes, desperately. One grabbing the forearm of the hand firmly wrapped around your throat, your nails digging into his freckled skin. Hissing The other hand pressed between your bodies, splayed out on his chest. The heat was intoxicating, your hand chased the warm Sebastian’s body was giving, sliding up his chest, around his neck, tangling your fingers in his soft brown hair. He needed to be closer to you, you needed him closer.

The hand that had been on your waist had traveled further down to your thigh, now hiking up your skirt, gathering it between his index and thumb. His free fingers caressed the soft skin of your upper thigh where your drawers meet before sinking his nails into the tender flesh. His lips breaking from yours, A soft mewl escaped into the air between you. He moved your head, so your gaze is locked with his, through half-lidded eyes you see Sebastian’s devilish charming grin, his eyes felt sinister, greedy.

“Kissing you has always left me wanting… more.” The hand around your throat fell to his side, air rushed into your lungs, it made your head spin. “Today, after such a marvelous confession, I’ll be taking it all.” His warm breath clung to your neck, you didn’t have time to right yourself before you felt his fingers graze up your thigh and settle on the wetness that had leaked out. A hum of delight at the slick filled your ear, his fingers lazily moving the damp fabric over your clit. Stifling the moan that was building with your palm, you bit down on the soft part where your thumb connected. Anything to not alert the danger that stood a couple hundred feet from you.

“Seb- please, not here.” Breathy, muffled, trying to wriggle out of his grasp on your thigh.

His middle finger picked up the pace, tantalizing circles over your sensitive clit. The thin fabric in-between was suffocating, you wanted skin. But not here, anything but, his finger pulled back. Oh he listened, he understood the danger looming.

You felt a small tug just above the dampness, the string holding them up falling loose. Your drawers pulled down your legs, Sebastian moving down with them. Your skirt falling to its wrongful place once again, you whimpered in protest, your body wasn’t worried about the danger that your mind was, it just wanted Sebastian.

Your fingers still tangled amongst his hair, you watched him step your feet out of your drawers, slipping them into the pocket of his trousers. “You get these back when we are finished, understood?” All you could muster was a quick gulp and a small nod. Sebastian was playing dirty, he didn’t listen at all to your plea.

Sebastian didn’t hesitate, this time his thumb connected between your folds and ran up to your clit setting in with an unrelenting tempo, his fingers sprawled across your abdomen, pushing you into the stone wall harder. A needy moan softly echoing in this small space, you needed more, needed all of him. “Fuu-ck, you are soaked.” Looking up at you through hungry eyes, licking his lips, the tell-tale sign of the smug grin he wore when he was winning. It drove you mad, the fingers that were interlocked with his hair, gripped tighter. Sebastian let out a wince, a smirk pulled at the corner of your lips. “Gentle, love. I am only beginning.”

It sent lightning through your entire body when his tongue began lapping at your core, a disgruntled moan vibrating off your skin. Your balance shifted when Sebastian pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, resting his hand on the soft skin of your thigh. Your other hand flew to his hair to keep yourself up right. “That’s better. I want to taste you properly.” His tongue back between your folds, darting around, tasting your arousal. Small praises were being etched into your skin. “Seb- fuck“ A breathy moan lingered, your finger nails digging into his scalp. “please…” Your hips grind against his tongue, the hand on your thigh moved to your hip, forcing you back into the stone wall. His tongue circling your clit, your hands pulling him closer, chasing the friction. His lips sucking at you, his tongue curling around the small nub. His pleasing hum vibrating against you made bite your already sore lip harder than before, you could feel your release approaching. Through the bite all you could muster was a needy “more…”

Pulling his head away “patience is a virtue, love.” Your body protested the absence, softly thrusting your hips. He smirked at your obvious display. You could see your slick along with lips, dripping down his chin. This was punishment enough; he didn’t have to add to it by nipping at the soft flesh of your upper thigh. Sucking little bruises into your skin, his tongue grazing over the sensitive marks to sooth them. A small whimper leaving your lips.

Your leg fell back to the floor as Sebastian stood back up, hand still holding your hip firmly in place. Your hands let go of his hair, moving to his belt, pulling him into you. Your hands fumbled with the buckle on the belt, Sebastian pulled your hands away. “Not yet. Few more things to take care of first.” Tilting his head down towards you, one hand wrapping back around your throat. He pulled you into his lips, crashing together feverishly. The taste of your own arousal filling your senses, it was addicting to taste yourself mixed with his own sweetness.

The hand holding your hip in place shifted, gasping at the sudden intrusion of fingers inside, two to be precise. His movements were deliberate, hitting that itch just inside your core. Your moans had become desperate, unable to stifle them much longer. You pawed at Sebastian’s linen shirt, you managed to undo one more button on his shirt, slipping your hands inside. Running your nails over his warm freckle-smattered skin, smalls dark chest hairs tickled under your fingertips. He groaned into your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. His fingers stretching you open, rubbing that spot you have trouble reaching yourself. His fingers are rougher than yours, thicker. His palm was resting on your clit, keen mewls follow with every thrust, you could feel that sensation again.

Your head fell back onto the stone wall “Fu—ck, Seb… yes, yes…”

You winced at the emptiness you felt as Sebastian retracted his fingers. You watched as he brought them up to his lips and sucked them clean. “You taste fucking divine, love. It’s a shame really.” He sounded pleased with himself, proud even.

“Sh-shame?” Catching your breath, watching him take a step back. Your skirt doing the one thing you hate.

“Yes. That was just the beginning of your punishment.” He stood across from you, arms folded, shirt still unbuttoned. You could see it more clearly now, his collarbones poking out from where the linen shirt sat open. You watched his chest rise and fall as he also seemed to be catching his breath. “The chase is still on, just this time.” His eyes darting to your skirt, eyebrows quirked. “Missing a vital layer.” His tongue ran over his top lip, it made your knees buckle again. Hands clambering to support you on the wall.

“Please, Seb. I can’t, no more.” Pleading with him, you were ready to give him everything. All he had to say was yes.

“You can, and you will.” His voice demanding, his gaze lazily roaming over you, you were sure you looked a mess. He seemed pleased with himself; the smug smirk plastered on his face again. If you didn’t need him, you would slap that smirk right off his face for toying with you. Punishment, you had also waited just as long if not longer than he had. Why were you the only one being punished, a sigh left your lips as you pushed off the wall. This was a bad idea, but two can play this game.

“Yes, Sallow.” A teasing tone, you meandered over to him. His head cocked to the side at the change in name and tone.

“But before I make my way back into the night.” You closed the distance between Sebastian and yourself. Your hand reaching for his belt again, watching his hands jolt in your direction. “tch tch, watch those hands Sallow.” Your voice matched his demand. Unclasping his belt, undoing it ever so slightly. You pop the buttons to give you access. Running your hand down into his trousers, finding his hard cock, “F-uck!” Sebastian letting out a hiss at the intrusion. You wrap your hand around, softly gripping. You let out a small moan at the thickness. You run your thumb over the tip in small circular motions, leaking, sticky. Sebastian’s hips jerk slightly, his cock moving in your hand, you begin to slowly slide up and down, enough to coax those sinful noises you did not know he could make.

“Patience is a virtue, love.” Mocking, stroking the flame. If he wanted torment, you were happy to oblige. Sebastian’s hands grip your shoulders, half to hold himself up and the other half to pull you away. Your hand retracted from his cock, bringing your thumb to your lips. You ran it down the length of your tongue, closing your lips around it and sucking it clean. Sebastian tasted fucking delicious, salty, a little bitter but perfect. You mimicked his smug smirk, his half-lidded eyes were dark, serious. Your heart hammered in your chest, the feeling from before was back. Tantalizing fear.

“Fucking Run!” This time it was a growl.

Your feet had never moved quicker, quicker than the first time. They caught on each other as you stumbled out of the cave, your hands giving traction on the dirt ground. You swear you heard him snicker at you. You didn’t care, you needed to run, you had never seen Sebastian that frustrated, it was enough to motivate your legs to move. Kicking up the loose dirt as your feet finally hit the ground properly, you didn’t care if the poachers were alerted. You were sure Sebastian would make quick work of them, in his current state. Glancing to the encampment as you ran past, it seemed they might have turned in for the evening.

The night air was colder than you remember, it felt like it was cutting through your warm skin as it whipped past your rushing body. It nipped at the wet core between your legs, muffled curses falling from your lips, taking Sebastian’s name in vain. Your breath was ragged already, you hadn’t been running for long, and your legs were already beginning to protest. They still felt the ache in between them, the denied release lingering as your thighs brushed together as you sprinted from the cave.

Throwing out the idea of hiding near Jackdaw’s Tomb, you head in the opposite direction. Approaching a junction you weren’t familiar on, you have to slow down, one to catch your breath and two to listen for dangers. The night-time noises fill your senses, the owls above with their drawn-out ‘whoo’s’, the branches rustling in the trees that surround you, and the mongrels howling at the moon. It was coming from your left, which was all you needed to turn your attention to the right.

The path was lined with dense trees and plants alike, you could see moonstone growing from the cliff side on your right, giving you the smallest bit of light from its glow. The path winding down further into the forest, you were certainly in the middle of the Forbidden Forest by this point. Your legs kept moving in a direction you had no idea where it would take you, but as long as it was away from Sebastian you would be… safe. It made you chuckle to yourself, safe. He was the safest place for you, the one you trusted with your life. You weren’t running because you didn’t feel safe, you were running because deep down the feeling of being hunted made your entire body ache. That tiny little voice in the back of your head was screaming in anticipation.

Thankfully, the momentum of the downward slope helped you move quicker down the path, not thankful about the tree you almost crash into when you reach the bottom. The path opened into a small lake; fireflies danced over the shimmer blue water. Large rocks scattered around the area, you prop yourself on one to catch your breath and to check on your hands that you had to use to stop yourself from the tree. They were a bit red and grazed, you would live. Watching through the trees as best as you could to see if Sebastian was following you, you couldn’t see all too well, but you also couldn’t hear any footsteps. Believing you are safe for now; you crouch down to wash the dirt off your hands. The water was cool on your skin, soothing the sore area on your palms.

You don’t know how long you had been watching the fireflies dance, the dragonflies that would just graze the water enough for it to ripple. Your arms resting on your knees, your fingertips playing with the water near your feet. It was peaceful, quiet, it made you almost forget about the looming danger. Your ears perked up at the rustle of nearby leaves, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing to your ears. You felt the tension in the air, you slowly lifted yourself up, turning to face the noise.

“Hello, sweetheart.” A stocky man, dressed in simple attire. Stubble on his chin, horrid smirk creeping up his lips.

“What do we have here, a wee little thing aren’t ya.” A gangly man, sort of weaselly looking. Long dark trench coat, fingers twitching at his wand.

No words left your slightly parted lips, your eyes scanning as far as they can see, hoping to see Sebastian. Your body trembled with real fear, you were wandless, defenseless, and alone. You wanted to scream, cry out for him but you couldn’t, your body and mind protested at the idea. You were completely frozen.

The stockier man took a few steps towards you. Looking back at the skinnier man, chuckling amongst themselves “She looks scared, doesn’t she.”

“It’s alright lass, we won’t hurt you… much.” The skinnier man had the most disgusting, sinister grin you had ever seen. Your mind racing, it reminded you of Rookwood’s grin before you took his life. A knot grew in the pit of your stomach, you needed to get away.

The skinnier man was in front of you before you could run, had he read your thoughts or was it just obvious that you wanted to run. His fingers gripping your chin, trying to pull away. The stockier man crept up behind you, hands grasping at your shoulders. It made you want to shed your skin; you were unable to break free. The fear of being completely defenseless was overbearing.

Your eyes instinctively shut as the skinnier man’s face closed in on you, the smell of stale cigarette smoke lingered on his breath. It made you physically ill, your breathing becoming shallow.

“Come on, lassie… let me see those pretty ey….” His voice disappeared into the wind, the feeling of fingers gripping your chin… gone. Your eyes slowly peaked open; the gangly man had vanished entirely.

“ERNIE!” The stocky man behind screaming in your ear, his friend was gone. His grip on your shoulders tightened, as both your gazes fell to the figure standing across the way. Wand pointed at the stockier man, his expression was dark, calculated, and ominous.

“Let.. Her.. Go!” Sebastian’s voice was like thunder, a threat of a storm approaching.

“Back away… or… your sweet little thing gets hurt.” The stocky man’s voice was shaky, unsure of itself. You could feel the hand that still gripped you was shaking; he had seen what Sebastian did to his friend. It must have been a sight; you kept your eyes focused on Sebastian. You didn’t want to miss it this time. The other hand held his wand, which was now pressed into your throat. You hissed at the sensation of it dragging across your skin.

“You alright?” Still thunderous but collected this time. All you could give was a small nod. “Good, I’ll make this quick. Just need you about 2 feet to the left though.” His devilish smug smirk pulling at his lips.

His grip was tighter, pulling you in close to his body, the feeling of his wand digging into your skin. You needed to get away, you could feel your magic screaming to get out. Your fingertips felt electric, coursing through your veins. It was demanding to be set free, you had never released your magic without a wand before. Clasping your hand, fingernails digging into your palm.

Bright white flashes of lightning screeching from above, hitting the ground that surrounded you. The stocky man’s grip loosened, and you were able to get free. Clambering away towards Sebastian, you watched his body shift, feet planted firmly on the ground, a wand movement you had not seen before, no incantation. A bright white light matching yours that still filled the opening shot across the clearing. You watched as it hit the stocky man in the chest… and he was gone, dust. Your head cocked in disbelief, eyes shifting back to Sebastian.

“Are they… dead?” Confused on the spell used, where did Sebastian learn to do that.

“What do you think, love. They touched you, of course they are dead.” It felt like the electricity from your magic rushed to your core. Sebastian would never allow anything to happen to you, ever again. Your teeth biting into your bottom lip, taking in the man walking towards you. “Seb-astian, what was that?” curiosity, maybe he could teach you. “Later. More pressing matter at hand.”

You took several steps back as he approached, backing into one of the larger rocks in this clearing. Sebastian closed the distance, looking for any signs of harm. You gave him a reassuring tender smile, you were okay, now. His hands clasping your cheeks, his lips were tender, kinder than before. This kiss felt like every stolen kiss you two had shared over the years, the secrets you hid in dark corners of the library, in empty classrooms in the dungeons, or the meadows surrounding the highlands.

“You are mine and I am yours, from now until the day we die.” It sounded like a demand, one that you would happily follow to the end of the earth.

“Yes” breathless, heart pounding against your rib cage.

His lips crashing back into yours violently, hands clasping your face, pulling you into his mouth. His tongue breaks apart your lips, slipping in and tangling with your own. Soft moans being captured, hot breath burning your lips. Your mind was racing, legs shaking, back pressed hard into the large rock behind you. You mumbled his name through a break in your lips. Your hands roamed over his linen shirt, pulling at the buttons, Sebastian’s shirt feel open. Your hands pushed underneath the material, running them over his broad chest, your fingernails tangled in his scattered chestnut chest hair.

Sebastian breaks from the kiss, moving his lips across your jaw, nibbling at your skin. “I had more planned.” His teeth graze your earlobe. “I was going to sneak up behind you.” His lips on your neck, sucking little bruises into your flesh. “Seb…” Your hands trailed down his chest, nails dragging along his skin. “Wrap my hand around your throat, you seemed to like that.” He purred into your skin, his fingers making quick work of your shirt buttons, pulling it off your shoulders. Your hands found his belt done up again, your fingers fumbled as you unclasped the buckle. His humming vibrated through your skin as his teeth sunk into the skin at the base of you neck, tongue lapping at the flesh that was beginning to bruise. A needy mewl filling the air as your head fell back against the rock, hands pulling at his trousers to loosen them. “No patience, love.” Another needy mewl answering for you. “Good, me neither.” Sebastian’s voice was a low, rough hum.

A small shriek pierced the air, Sebastian pulled your legs up to rest on his hips, his hands supporting your backside by your thighs. Skirt pushed in between your bodies, your hand slipping down to free Sebastian’s cock from its restraint. Your neck being nipped at as he adjusts his hips to line with your soaking core. Grinding his hips against the wetness between your legs, the tip pressing between your folds. Your body reacts to the intrusion, moaning in delight at Sebastian’s throbbing cock stretching you open. Fingers gripping into his biceps to sturdy yourself, he lowers you slowly until he is completely engulfed by you.

“Hol-y Shit, Love.” Growling at the tightness wrapped around him, letting you adjust to him. “Your cunt… feels f-fucking divine.”

Sebastian’s movements felt deliberate, deep penetrating thrusts that hit the deepest parts of you. Every thrust invited needier moans. “Seb… please… more…” You could feel the tears streaking your cheeks with every twitch of his cock. His hip bones hitting against your thighs, his hands slid to grab the back of your knees, pulling your legs closer to his chest, your back fully digging into the rock.

His cock plunged into you, again and again and again, deeper with each retreat. Little praises, ragged grunting and breathing filled the space between you two. Your hands shifting to grab hold of his neck, pulling him in hungrily. Pulling his bottom lip in-between yours, biting softly at him. A hand ran into his untamed hair, gripping it between your fingers. Small winces caught between your lips. Sebastian pressed his body further into you, his pace was frustrating. “Fuck, love.” You could feel his breath against your lips. “I want to feel you come undone on my cock.”

“Yes, Se-bastian… Ple-please… you feel so…good… I need to come.” Begging for the release you have already been denied. His hips tilted back slightly, giving him just enough space to completely penetrate your dripping wet cunt. Back arching, thighs squeezing shut, your walls contracted around his cock. “Yes, love. Come for me.” The build-up finally hitting its peak, your body shaking at your release, moaning uncontrollably. Your release spills out of you, down Sebastian’s shaft and your behind.

Unable to hold back the overstimulating screams as Sebastian chases his own release, your fingers pull at his disheveled messy hair. A muffled scream on your lips as your thighs are pressed into your chest “Yes, Seb… come.” A groaning mess, his hips bucking as he fills you. It is hot, coating your insides. Sebastian catching his breath, head resting on your knees that are still firmly pressing you into the rock. “Sebastian, my back…”

“Oh, shit! So-sorry.” He gently pulls himself out from your core, a whimper at the empty feeling you are left with. He helps lower your legs to the ground, your knees buckle as your feet make contact. Your legs tremble with the aftershock of your release. Sebastian steadies you, softly leaning you against the rock, again. “Just a second, love.” You watch as he tucks himself back in his trousers and fixes his shirt to look a bit more presentable.

“Alright.” Sebastian slightly bends down; a small shriek escapes you. He grabs the back of your thighs and slings you over his shoulder. Fixing his posture and making sure you aren’t going anywhere. “Seb, what are you doing? Put me down.” You hit him in the back, protesting the position you are in. “Can’t do that, love. You could barely stand. I will happily carry you back to the castle.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could still hear that smug smirk pulling at his lips.

Walking back through the forest, you could feel Sebastian’s fingers running softly over your thigh, Giggling at every little movement. It suddenly feels a little wet, warm. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, all you want to do is hide. Sebastian chuckles to himself, his finger running small circles where your mixture has leaked out, his fingers creeping in between your folds. A small moan followed by a swift whack on his shoulder “Sebastian…”

“Yes…”

“You can’t do that here.”

“Well then, love. We better make our way back to the castle quickly, as I have an exceptionally lengthy list of places I want to fuck you and so very little time before graduation!”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy smut #one shot smut #my first smut #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow smut

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