#I hate it here but the writing scene is cool

[lemongogo]

[nero-neptune]

finally got around to watching that 1985 movie "white nights" and, not to be the gay person making everything a "gay thing", but like. almost every scene with with the two male leads is Strikingly sexually charged, Especially the ones when they're both dancing (and it's a movie about Dancing, so this just keeps happening). yeah, it's the 80s, but you can Feel the insane chemistry through the screen. the long drawn-out eye contact? the teasing remarks? nikolai Constantly checking raymond out? was it all a fun creative decision? like, was All That on purpose or...?? am i supposed to believe that they're just "good friends"?? lmao???

this is the Very Last Shot of the movie. it's not even the first time in the movie they look at each other Like That. (they both have female love interests btw):

anyway. definitely an 80s cold war movie, i'll tell you that!

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi finding out you pretended to be a boy in order to get trained properly and him falling head over heels for you after

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: If there's one thing you always hated, it was being underestimated. Because you're nothing but a petite girl in the eyes of every other demon slayer you stumbled upon with even the sound hashira going easy on you. They left you no choice but to pretend that you're a boy in order to finally get the training you deserve. Little did you know it will be the wind hashira himself who uncovers your dirty secret...

Warnings: it's Sanemi so language, the bonus scene is for those of you who are in desperate need of some spice (no direct smut), last part not proofread because this needs to be published and I'm tired lol

Thank you sooo much for that super cool request, @xxx-oneofthegirls-xxx, I hope you like what I came up with (also, you made me listen to one of the girls nonstop while writing this hehe)

You stare at your foreign reflection in the mirror, cheeks still burning. This looks ridiculous and you know it, your plan so plain and stupid that you regret your decision more and more with each passing second.

But you have to do this.

“Don’t overwork yourself, (y/n). You’ll rest here while the others run a few extra miles.”

“But Tengen-sama, I-“

“Here, let’s get you something to eat!”, Suma cried out.

“You’re overworking that poor woman, Tengen-sama”, Mako commented dryly.

“I already told her to take a break!”

Because without pretending that you’re a boy, they’ll never take you seriously. Not when you’re a petite girl, not when everyone treats you like porcelain because of your small frame and gender. You came her because you’re ready to fight, because being a demon slayer is your true destiny. You want to get trained hard, you urge to surpass yourself each and every day.

You stare at your eyes filled with determination in the mirror. Therefore, you need to make sure they see nothing but a normal boy in you. 

It’s hard to breathe properly with countless bandages tied around your chest in order to hide your feminine curves to their eyes. Carefully, you tie a ribbon around the ends of your hair and pull them up. Good, now your hair is about shoulder-length. A plain hairband that is convincing enough as a sweat band turns your usual longer hair into a temporary short cut.

Is this enough? Will the mist hashira actually believe you?

Confidently, you change into the uniform you stole from a boy nearby earlier and grab your katana. There is no other way than finding out.

“Where’s that little girl? Didn’t Tengen-sama allow her to continue?”

“Huh, you mean the little wallflower? I bet she gave up when she saw what hashira training really means. She wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Your heart drops to the floor while your eyes automatically look down in panic and distress. Everyone underestimates you over the sheer fact that you’re a girl. But why? Why would you give up? Why is everyone thinking you aren’t strong enough when women like Shinobu Kocho show them how it’s done? You didn’t train since you were 4 to get reduced to your gender and height.

No, you’ll show them soon enough how good you really are and that you’re no one to be messed with.

“Look at him!”

“Who is that guy?”

“He fights as good as Tanjiro!”

“I’ve never seen him around. Do you know him?”

And you did. Training after training, hashira after hashira. Somehow, you surpassed them all. Despite your small frame, your disadvantage towards the boys with their ability to move freely in the scorching hot sun, you made it.

“It seems like you’re decent handling your sword. I have no use for you here anymore”, Obanai proclaims dryly.

You…you did it? You’ve been here for 3 days, spent the first day tied to a wall while getting smacked by some useless comrades. But you really convinced him, the serpent hashira, the man a lot of the others were so afraid of.

Your heart jumps up and down in excitement. You convinced him.

“Thank you”, you mumble in reply with deepened voice.

“Let’s see how you’ll keep up with Shinazugawa. Now get lost.”

Shinazugawa? You’ve heard that name before. Is this…the wind hashira? Your eyes widen as you sprint down the forest in the merciless sun. If Iguro Obanai is considered rough, Sanemi Shinazugawa has to be a menace. You heard from countless slayers that went back home as soon as they arrived at his estate, some beaten up so badly that they needed treatment.

For days.

You swallow hard. If this man finds out that you’re not who you pretend to be, you’ll be dead. But you have no other choice. After everything you’ve been through, you won’t give up because of the wind hashira’s bad reputation.

“How’s training going?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring into the distance.

“All of them are trash. There’s only one that is decent, though”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Don’t tell me it’s that Kamado brat-“

“No, I’ve never seen that boy before. No one seems to know who he is. He’s pretty small for his age and acts even weirder than the others but I can’t deny that he’s skilled. Even Kanroji…praised him”, Obanai presses out.

He’ll definitely never forget you for taking up the space of a full hand-written site in her note to him.

“You all went too easy on him, then. I’ll mop the floor with his ass when he gets to me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. There it is, the estate of the wind hashira. Only him and the stone hashira are left. Only these two until you’re able to drop your false identity and use your newest skills in a real fight. When you’re done here, you’ll finally be able to protect your village properly. No demon will ever hurt your friends and family again.

You just have to get through a few more days of training. A few more days with the wind hashira…

-two days later-

“Get lost, brats”, Sanemi barks out in sheer frustration.

Are these losers really supposed to be useful in a fight against Kibutsuji? They aren’t even good enough to hold their wooden sword correctly, let alone find the right stance to fight. God, this is such a waste of time, so fucking annoying that he smashes his own wooden sword into the ground roughly.

“Fucking useless rabble”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

When his blurry sight catches yours, he’s even more infuriated. He really thought the other pillars were too gentle with you. You, with your thin and small frame, with your innocent eyes that almost make you look like a girl. And while you look like the biggest loser of this whole corps, you manage to fight better than all the others.

“Enough of this bullshit, we’re using real swords now”, Sanemi barked at you while already grabbing his sharp katana.

“Fine.”

You didn’t storm towards him, didn’t act out of confidence or rage. You stayed so calm that Sanemi didn’t know how to act for the split of a second.

The split of a second. This minor moment was enough for you to lift your blade and scratch his cheek ever so slightly.

“Did he…Just hit the wind hashira?”

“This can’t be true. A strange guy like him, hitting one of the most powerful demon slayers?”

“You…You have some fucking nerve, little brat! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Oh, how often he tormented you. Made you stand up in the middle of the night for a fight, forced you to stand up against all your comrades. He pushed you over your limit over and over, made you suffer in a way he never did before.

But you still stand your ground. Still, you grab your wooden sword and follow the others inside at dawn as if nothing happened.

And it simply drives him insane.

“You, little brat!”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama?”

Your guts turn in an instant. In contrast to the other hashira training, this feels like a trip to hell and back. It almost seems as if the wind hashira made it his mission to let you suffer more than anyone else. What have you done to deserve his anger? Did you act out of line, aloof? It has to be the fact that you injured his cheek during your fight…

“Never mind. Get out of my sight.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Instantly, you turn on your heels and make your way to dinner. Maybe you’ll finally have to chance to wash yourself tonight. With all those unexpected training sessions and the wind hashira torturing you until far past midnight, you didn’t even find the time to take a bath. Urgh, you can’t wait to finally take those bandages off and to wash your itchy scalp. All that sweating without the relief of a jump in the cool lake nearby is definitely hard to endure.

But tonight. Tonight you’ll finally get the chance to escape the merciless gaze of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

He doesn’t know what keeps him up tonight. Is it the full moon that lights his room, his still enraged heart? It’s still hard to believe that you’re acting up like this, that you manage to hit him. Out of all the jerks he trained, why does it have to be the smallest and therefore weakest one?

Maybe all he needs is letting his anger out on you. Sanemi storms into the dormitory wearing nothing but a casual yukata. He might hunt you around the lake for a few rounds or lets you practice your sword bows until you turn blue-

But his eyes don’t get greeted by your hair sticking out underneath you’re blanket.

“Where the hell are you, brat?”, he hisses to himself.

“This feels like heaven”, you moan to yourself while you dip your head into the cool water.

You never cared about getting covered in mud or dried blood sticking to your skin. But oh, the feeling of cleaning yourself up again after a rough day is just unmatched. Gently, your fingers brush through your wet hair, free yourself from all the dirt of those last days.

When will you be able to return? After that, only the stone hashira is left. How did you manage to land all the way over here? Hiding behind the identity of a boy no one know in order to get treated equally. Your efforts were definitely worth it. With those countless new techniques you’ve learned, you’ll finally be able to stand up against the demons that haunt down your village on a regular basis. Finally, you’ve got the education you deserved.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

All color drains from your face in an instant. You don’t have to look past his knees to know who stays right in front of you. Why didn’t you hear him coming? How did he manage to show up in front of you without you noticing?

“S-Shinazuwaga-sama”, you breathe out.

It doesn’t matter how he found you. With your hair open and your upper body barely covered by the water, he already saw through your well-hidden secret. Or better said, your lie.

“You’re so dead.”

You can’t escape. In the matter of seconds, he is with you in the water and grabs your wrists roughly.

“You lied into our faces this whole time?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I had to-“

“You’re nothing but a little girl!”

“You left me-“

“What else do you have to hide? Are you even a demon slayer? I’m totally in the mood to kill you right on the spot-“

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE”, you finally blurt out.

“No choice? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Tengen-sama treated me like porcelain because I’m a woman, but I didn’t want that! I wanted to train like the boys do, I wanted to suffer like everyone else! How am I supposed to become a decent swordswoman when everyone goes easy on me because of my gender!?”

“You…You lied to us.”

“I did.”

“You aren’t a guy.”

“I’m not.”

Thick silence hangs between both of you, only interrupted by sharp and heavy breaths. What now? Will he send you away in dishonor or even worse, exclude you from the corps completely? You’ve worked so hard to even get accepted, poured your heart and soul into those past days. All of this, vanishing in thin air?

“Please don’t send me away”, you finally press out.

“Are you dumb? Ain’t no way I’m letting you stay-“

“I can’t return home in dishonor. I did all of this to be able to protect my family and village. If I return home like this…”

You can’t finish your sentence, your throat suddenly feeling so tight that you even fail to breathe.

“Get out of my sight.”

“But I-“

“I said get out of my sight!”, he screams on top of his lungs.

You flinch backwards and almost trip into the water. Talking doesn’t do much. If you’re not leaving the next few seconds, he might drown you.

With a heavy heart you leave the water, carefully hiding behind a tree until you’re fully dressed again.

“What’s your real name?”, he shouts towards you harshly.

“My name is (y/n)”, you mutter, not daring to look into his cold eyes.

And then you stumble back. Back into the dormitory you know so well by now. Back into what might be the last night at the demon slayer corps for you.

“Remember that skilled guy you told me about?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring at the ground.

“Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s not him. She’s a fucking girl that pretended to be a guy.”

It still feels like a feverish dream. Why did nobody realize sooner? Not even himself…God, he’s such an idiot for not throwing you out instantly. You lied straight into his face, you lied to the whole demon slayer corps all this time. You deserve to leave, you deserve all that hatred and disgust.

“That’s actually quite impressive. How did you find out?”, Obanai comments dryly.

“I caught her bathing. Said she didn’t want to get differently because she’s a girl.”

Just the thought of seeing you there lit by nothing but moonlight, your long hair draped like a veil around you and your female curves he didn’t even know existed…

“That are some unexpected news. Do the others know?”

“I won’t tell ‘em. I’ll kick her out the corps when I return.”

“Why kicking her out? No matter if boy or girl, you can’t deny she’s the most promising one until now. Why not keeping her?”

“Keeping her?”, Sanemi repeats in sheer disbelief.

“Ain’t no way I’ll ever speak to a filthy little liar like her again.”

“Her plan worked, though. And I hate to admit it, but she did pretty good.”

Sanemi’s furious eyes dart towards Obanai in nothing but frustration. You fooled every single hashira until now. You hold so much potential that eventually…Would you survive as his tsugoko?

“I’ll leave”, he finally speaks out before turning his back on Obanai and storming away.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

How utterly dumb you feel sitting on that porch with your wet hair still open in the cool breeze far past midnight. You have no idea where he went, if he’s out to inform the head of the corpse about your behavior or even worse, your own family. Is it too early to pack your few belongings, to leave before he comes back? You definitely can’t stand another round of getting yelled at by the wind hashira.

“What are you doing here outside, brat?”

Fuck. He steps out of the darkness like an unpromising shadow with his face as hard as stone.

“I can’t sleep anyway”, you murmur.

“I’m so fucking mad at you for shitting me like this. Pretending you’re a guy while you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl”, you clarify sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re a lying little brat but-“

He takes a deep breath in while sitting down next to you.

“But you’ve got what it takes. I’ve been looking for a decent tsugoko for quite some time now and-“

You can’t believe your ears. This man can’t possibly be the wind hashira you know by now, the man who looked like he’ll drown you any minute just a few hours ago. He can’t suggest to take you in as his tsugoko, right? There’s absolutely no way this man wants to train you on a regular basis-

“And maybe you’re that decent fit.”

Oh.

“Me, as your tsugoko”, you repeat his words in order to make them sound real.

“I’ll still kick your ass for lying into my face like that, though”, he adds aggressively.

Never in your life would you ever dreamed of being the apprentice of a hashira. You always worked hard, always made sure to develop your skills with everything you do, but being considered a tsugoko? Of the wind hashira, who never takes in a student? Who seems so rough and cruel but allowed you to handle your katana even better?

“I’d love that”, you finally breathe out.

“I’m beyond thankful you’re e-“

“Shut up immediately. A yes is enough. You’ll stay here with me, then.”

“Y-yes, Shinazugawa-sama!”

“No go to sleep, I can’t beat your ass when you’re tired”, he mumbles before getting up and leaving while your feelings are still over the place.

You, the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

-a few months later-

“Gimme your best shot now, brat!”, he barks at you.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, your heavy panting tasting like blood. Just one more hit, one more strike and you’ll get him.

“Thunder breathing, fourth form-“

“Too slow”, he comments next to your ear.

Within the split of a second, you find yourself just inches away from the dirty ground with Sanemi’s arms keeping you from falling.

“Still not fast enough. Do it again.”

Mindlessly, he still drops you into the dirt with his sword casually draped over his shoulder.

You lift yourself off the ground with trembling limbs. There you are again, deep within your trip to hell and back. What you expected when agreeing on being the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

You grab the handle of your sword even tighter and storm towards just like you did hundreds of times before with the smallest of smiles creeping up your features.

Well, exactly that.

-steaming hot bonus: meeting in the lake at night-

You allow the cool water to caress your countless wounds gently. How good it feels to finally bathe every single day instead of once every few days. When the truth came out and everyone started to realize that you aren’t a boy, you regained a part of your freedom along with the merciless training of the wind hashira. Each and every day, he tortured you and others with his cruel training methods before you slide into the lake before the sun sets and go straight back to sleep.

Not today, though. It has to be almost midnight by now, the stars in the sky glimmering so magnificent that you can’t look away. Sanemi allowed you to visit your family and friends today. As you have learned, demon attacks have subsided since the sister of Tanjiro Kamado mastered the sun. And even though that means your loved ones will be safe, you can’t deny the slight turn of your guts. This means a war is around the corner, that Muzan Kibutsuji himself might come for all of you.

But this is nothing you should think about now. Not when you just returned and desperately longed for a bath. You dip your head into the cold water, moan to yourself as the water surrounds you fully-

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?”

Sanemi.

Out of instinct you cry out while burying everything except for your head inside the dark water. You’re butt-naked. How long has he been here already? And…has he seen you? Suddenly your whole body feels hot against the cool water around, cheeks turning dark red.

“Calm down, idiot-“

“How long have you been here already!?”

“What? I’m always taking a bath around this time. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here”, he clarifies dryly.

There he stands. Droplets of water run down his bare chest and almost make him shimmer in the moonlight. His wet hair stick to his face so delicately that you can’t force yourself to look away. He looks…hot.

Hot?

“I-uh…I just returned from…home”, you stutter.

“Hope your family is fine”, he mumbles along with slicking his hair back.

Within these past months, you’ve caught a glimpse of Sanemi you’ve never witnessed before. This man isn’t as cruel as everybody makes him look, his words aren’t always meant as harsh as they sound. Sanemi has a very tender side. Especially when his eyes soften for the blink of a moment, you couldn’t help but feel lost.

“They are. Apparently, the incidents with demons involved lessened when I departed”, you press out.

God, you’re acting ridiculous and you know it. Sanemi is your teacher, your training partner. Even though you’re living under the same roof (he even gave you an own room), there aren’t any romantical feelings between both of you.

“Good to hear. I’ll let you rest a little tomorrow morning. You have to be dead tired.”

“I’m fine”, you lie in an instant.

Truth is, you’re so drained out that the water is the only thing that’s able to keep your knees for failing you at the moment. Not only from your journey, but all those countless harsh training sessions, dueling yourself over and over with Sanemi and the others. But you’d never admit it, would never say it out loud.

“You’re probably the baddest liar out there. Your cheeks are red as hell, (y/n)”, Sanemi comments dryly.

You don’t dare to move when he stretches out his hand. Enough to gently caress your cheek, enough to cause an explosion in your stomach.

Did Sanemi just touch you? Tenderly?

“I…N-no…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you are too distracted to care about something like words. Slowly but surely, he draws closer with his perfectly formed chest exposed to your hungry eyes.

“(y/n), I…There’s actually something I wanted…Well…Fuck!”

Is that really Sanemi Shinazugawa, stumbling over his own words? And why is it him who’s blushing at the moment?

These past few months made it really easy for you to actually respect the wind hashira. Not only his frightful skills when handling the sword, but just him. Him, when he’s brushing the fur of the cat that visits his estate from time to time. Him, when he tucks you into your blanket when assuming you’re already asleep. Him, when checking on you in his own unique way.

How ridiculous to even think about him like that, to even allow your heart to jump up and down in joy. But you can’t help yourself. Despite the way you despised him when the two of you first met, you really started to love this man with all your heart.

“(y/n), you’re a pretty decent women”, he begins again while drawing closer.

“Well, I…Thank you?”

A decent woman? Is that what he thinks about you?

“I still can’t believe you lied to me about being a girl, though”, he barks at you.

Oh.

You hate the way your heart drops. Were you really dumb enough so think he might have something to say, that he might tell you he has feelings for you as well? How ridiculous, how absolutely dumb.

“I think I should get going. It’s been a long day”, you mumble.

It’s probably the best to get away from here as soon as possible. But just when you start moving towards the shore, his hand grabs your arm tightly and twirls you around.

Right against his bare chest.

“Don’t you dare leaving now, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…there’s something I wanna tell you…”

“Why are you acting like a child?”, you finally spit at him yourself.

Oh, you’re having enough of all those ups and downs. Especially today, when you’re totally drained out already. You really don’t have the nerve for him to pick on you again, not when his last statement lies like a heavy stone in your stomach-

“Acting like a child?”, he challenges you.

Just before his lips crash into yours.

Longingly, Sanemi wraps his strong arms around you, devours you against his body while all you’re able to do is holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

This…is really happening, right? This is really Sanemi, pressing his lips against yours over and over again while your naked skin brushes against his?

“You’re fucking driving me insane, brat”, he mumbles against your lips before grabbing you even tighter.

“Since the moment I realized you aren’t a boy.”

He grabs you by your waist firmly, your naked skin rubbing against his sixpack almost making you lose everything that’s left of your self-control.

“I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your hands wander around his biceps, feel the deep valleys of his muscular back. God, this feels so good – almost too good to be true. But even if this is nothing but a dream, you’ll enjoy every minor movement, every sweet moment until you open your eyes again.

But when you do, you don’t find yourself in the comforting darkness of your room. No, his eyes glimmer like molten iron when staring down at you in the moonlight, his hot breath brushing against your wet face so seductive that you threaten to lose your balance.

“Still saying I’m acting like a child, brat?”

[atrwriting]

terrible company — logan howlett x reader

secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are

side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene

back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy

barely edited we die like overworked students men

minors fuck off plz n thnx

as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick

—

“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”

you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.

he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.

you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”

he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”

you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.

you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.

your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.

not even close.

the worst part was that logan was your partner.

it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.

you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.

but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?

made your fucking blood boil.

that no good, rotten, fucking —

“hey, sweetheart —“

when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.

“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.

fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.

he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”

he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.

you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.

he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.

you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.

“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”

“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.

he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”

with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.

no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —

but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.

but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.

you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.

fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.

when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.

when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.

“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.

“…is it working?”

you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.

fuck.

you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.

“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”

“…fuckin’ vegans.”

“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”

“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.

you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.

you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.

you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.

him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.

“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.

straddled him, to be more exact.

in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.

“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“

he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.

you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”

he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.

“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.

“you’re good — i get them, too.”

“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.

that was it. the final straw.

you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”

he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”

“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”

“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”

“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”

oh — you shouldn’t have.

you really, really shouldn’t have.

you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.

you watched his nose crinkle in anger.

he let out a frustrated, slow breath.

another.

and another.

and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.

you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.

“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”

you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?

“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”

you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“

he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.

“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”

you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.

heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.

“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.

the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.

logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.

men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.

and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.

it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.

…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —

he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.

instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.

and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.

he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.

“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”

“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“

he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”

you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.

“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”

you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”

you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.

you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.

it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.

he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.

you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.

“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”

you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.

it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”

you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.

“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”

“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“

“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”

“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.

“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“

every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.

logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.

“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.

and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.

he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.

“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”

you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.

the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.

he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.

“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”

you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”

that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.

“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”

“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”

he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.

“right there —!” you sobbed.

“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”

you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.

“all mine.”

“my fucking pussy —“

“good fucking girl —“

“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”

your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.

logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.

you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.

it was going to be a long, long night...

[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring[2: Meanracha]

˚ʚMeanRacha x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After that night with 3Racha, you agreed to become involved with all 8 men. So what happens when Jisung’s loud ass accidentally tells the rest of the members, and meanracha takes to bullying their leader?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 7.2k (im sorry)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: *inhales* pwp, fem! Reader, ot8✗reader mentions, smut is reader✗MeanRacha(Jeongin, Seungmin, Minho), 4some, free use mentions, reader is referred to as: ‘kitty, pup, and baby’, unprotected sex, rough sex, dp in one hole, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, subspace, big dick!jeongin, name calling (slut, whore, 1 bitch), spanks/slaps (ass, pvssy, & like 1 face), dirty talk, overstim, aftercare kinda mentioned, i THINK thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: for some reason the sfw parts of this was sooo hard for me to write LMAO but anyways… only 2 more of the bois left :3 part 3 is HyunLix✗reader! I think i'm going to make it softer/not nearly as rough as this i hope u like it i kinda hate it

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After that Friday night’s events, you constantly found yourself in situations where one of the producers pulled you aside to have their way with you. In fact, for the first 2 weeks after the fact, there were only a handful of days where you weren’t filled to the brim by at least one of the men. And, in their defense, it was part of the agreement you guys ended up creating! Why wouldn’t they take advantage of you allowing their hands on you and their dicks in you at essentially any time they wanted.

It was now three and a half weeks after the fact, and the boys were cooling down after practicing for a themed choreography video. While Chan and Minho left the room to get water for everyone, the others laid scattered around the room. The only sounds that circuited the room were calming breathing sounds and the quiet side chatter among a few members. Then all of a sudden, a loud groan was heard from Jisung followed by a whiny and (not so) quiet, “Fuck.. Where is (y/n) at? I need her so badly right now...”

Jeongin’s ears perked up and he stared into the older man as if he sprouted a tail. “Hyung.. What?” He asked, looking around at the others to see if he was going crazy or if he actually just heard something he shouldn’t have. Some of the others shared the same expression, but when his eyes flickered to Changbin he was instead met with wide eyes and a very poor attempt at hiding a smile.

“Yah! Han-ah???” he shouted, shaking his finger at the boy as he does when he wants to ‘discipline’ somebody.

“W-What?... Oh shit- SORRY!” was the only reply before the two burst out into laughter. The others darted their eyes between the two, occasionally exchanging confused looks with each other until their laughing fit eventually died down. Seungmin was the first to speak up, a frown evident from the outrage of hearing his crush get spoken about so vulgarly. “Care to explain yourselves?”

Before they had time to respond, the door to the practice room was thrown open and the devil herself walked in with the 2 oldest members. A huge smile was on your face while they carried bags of food you had bought for them. “Dinners here, losers!” 

About an hour passes and most of the boys had forgotten what happened in favor of stuffing their faces. Well, most of the boys. The 2 youngest members watched as Jisung’s hands would linger on your thighs for too long, sometimes even trailing up your inner thigh. They also watched you giggle and grab his hand, but not push it away, then whisper something into his ear that would cause him to blush and grin like a cheshire cat.

The two boys were more than confused, but Jeongin didn’t want to make a scene so he chose to stay quiet and ask about it later. Seungmin on the other hand.. made his frustrations known. To everybody. With a very loud and sudden, “Yah, Hyung. What do you think you’re doing.” He didn’t mean for it to come out as menacing as it did, but he was secretly thankful that he did when Han’s hands were speedily removed from your body.

It was quiet for a moment and he honestly felt bad for bringing everybody's attention to Jisung like this, but seeing his crush get felt up by one of his closest friends isn’t exactly a nice sight to behold. Jisung choked on his spit and stuttered in his spot next to you, looking to you and the eldest to help him out.

“What’s wrong Seungminnie?” You tilted your head at the boy and smiled. You knew what was wrong but you didn’t want to air everything out all at once if he wasn’t going to be bold in front of the others about what he saw.

“...Are you two dating or something..? Why were his hands all over you..” The anger had faded into sadness, it was so obviously evident in his eyes and the way he sadly pouted at you. You felt your chest pang and you looked between the 3 boys you were involved with, staring silently for a moment before turning back to the other boys and sighing.

“Well.. no but yes?” Loud ‘HUH?!?’”s were heard from a few of them, and you would have laughed had it not been paired with despaired faces. “Ok ok, let me finish! No because we aren’t officially together but yes because we are all…. involved? with each other and the plan was to maybe date eventually..”

“We?” Hyunjin’s voice came immediately after you finished and you nodded curtly as Jisung spoke up again.

“Um.. ‘We’ as in me, Changbin, and Channie.. BUT!! Before you guys get upset, we wanted you guys to join us before we make anything official. Hence the ‘yes but no’ answer.”

Felix’s ears perk up and he stares wide-eyed at the boy, “So that’s what you meant by that ‘poly relationship’ question last week.”

Both your and Chan’s necks snapped to Jisung, watching as the boy laughed it off and held his hands up at the two of you in defense. “Hey! I just wanted to see what they would say and how open they were to it.. AND I’ll have you know!” He started before turning to you and holding eye contact as he pointed his finger at each boy, “They ALL agreed they wouldn’t mind sharing you if it was with the rest of us.”

The oldest rolled his eyes before mumbling, “You have such a big mouth, Hannie… Don’t make me stuff it full again.” Han chokes on his spit and crosses his arms, silently leaning back into the couch with a pout.

Surprised faces scattered across everybody but the 3 of you at the last comment. A “Huh??” was heard from somebody before he continued with a teasing yet petty attitude, “Since we’re apparently putting everything out there, why not bring that up too?”

“Woah woah woah… Can one of you please explain what the hell is going on!?”

Changbin sighed loudly then finally chimed in. “Moral of the story is: Channie-hyung here has been fucking our little Bunny for the last few months behind our backs. Me and Jisung walked in on them a few weeks ago and we’ve been fucking her now too.” He let the words hang in the air and he watched their expressions. He was about to continue talking when Felix spoke, “....Okay… well that answers that question, but I think it created so many more..”

Then you spoke up, “I’ll answer any questions you have, but before any of you say anything I want to make some things clear.” You waited for each of the boys' agreements before taking a deep breath. “First things first, I love all of you guys and knowing that you feel the same is an insane feeling. Next, after they walked in on us, we four came to the agreement that we would be friends with benefits until we could get all of you aware of what’s going on and get roles figured out for a relationship.. if a relationship was even on the table.”

You paused for a few seconds, letting that sink in before continuing, “Now that that’s out there, I want to date you. All of you. If you’re okay with it of course. I had this same talk with those two idiots that I can end this fuck-buddy agreement the second that somebody disagrees. You guys mean the world to me and I won’t let some good dick ruin what we have now.”

Chris has a cocky smile on his face as nods at the boys. “I know it’s sudden, we wanted to plan this out and tell you guys one by one but that’s not really an option anymore.” He says with a glare to Han, who gives an apologetic smile back but continues to sit silently otherwise. “You guys don’t have to answer us right away, take as much time as you want. We can put things on pause to make you guys feel more comfortable, if you want.”

Jisung makes a whining noise and the few who spare a glance at him notice the frown and pleading eyes he gives Chan. Changbin’s hand smacks the back of Han’s head, making the younger yelp before he starts complaining.

Hyunjin is the first to break the silence after that, “So… we’d all be dating?” Chris, already having this talk with you, answers for you. “It doesn’t have to be that way unless you guys want it to be. The basis of it would be her dating all of us at the same time. Everything else would be like our normal day to day experiences with her, but now we can love on her and do ‘couple’ things with her and vice versa. You guys just have to be 100% percent ok with sharing.”

With a few shared looks among the boys sitting on the floor, they silently agreed to come to an agreement now. They all trusted each other enough to not be afraid of judgment regardless of their answer. And how could they disagree… it’s totally not like they haven’t fantasized and spoken about this with each other countless times.

Before he gets the chance to speak, Felix’s wide smile gives away his answer, but it doesn’t help you not be star struck when he says he wants in. After that, it was a domino effect. One by one the boys vocalized their answers, and to your utmost surprise: they were all yes’s. Han grins widely when the final member gives his ‘yes’. “Okay! Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about fun stuff!”

“Fun…?”

The whole group watches as a smirk takes over his features, and you can only roll your eyes. “Sexy stuff~”

“O-kay… How about we talk about boundaries and all that BEFORE we get to the sex stuff..”

Later that day, Chris gave the rest of the boys the same rundown from last time.  And just like that, everybody went on with their lives, almost like before. Almost. Now, the boys were MUCH bolder with you. Lingering hands all over you and more intimate cuddle sessions were now a norm, even in front of each other. 3racha was no longer forced to hide their intentions with you, and Jisung specifically was now unashamedly vocal when he was horny.

Then, a few more weeks had passed. At this point, every member had experienced sex with you multiple times. They all decided their first few times with you to be 1 on 1. It gave everybody the chance to learn your body and vice versa, and it gave them time to discuss fantasies and kinks with you more in depth!

Recently, a certain silver bracelet came in the mail. One with each of their initials engraved into the shiny metal plate. It was one they all chipped in to buy so that you had a form of nonverbal consent between them. You took a picture to send to the group chat instead of making them wait to see it in person, but you ended up sending it to just Chris to have him share with the rest. And, of course, some of the brats had to tease about it.

Chris huffed from his office chair while Han and Changbin laughed from the couch, them both having watched the texts unfold from where they sat. He rolls his eyes at the other co-producers and he sends you screenshots of the chat before returning to his work.

And this is how your current situation is caused. You're in the Cat Dorm with Jeongin, Minho, and Seungmin. Felix had just walked out on the basis of going to dinner with one of the other boys. Part of you wishes he hadn’t because the second the door shut behind him, teasing pokes were being thrown towards you relating to ‘Chan trying to keep you to himself.’ The boys made it clear they weren’t actually mad about it anymore, but they couldn’t slip up an opportunity to get under your skin.

You’re suddenly snapped back to reality at the sound of Seungmin’s voice, “I’m just saying! He could’ve said something the second he found out how we felt and this all could have happened much earlier.”

“I think Channie-hyung just liked having her all to himself.” Minho teased, smirking to himself when you rolled your eyes. “And if we’re pointing fingers, our pretty kitty here was also oblivious to all of our feelings. She even said herself how clear it was.” You crossed your arms at the implication and looked to Jeongin for assistance. But instead you were met with a smug smirk and a shrug as he shoveled chips into his mouth like he was watching his favorite movie.

If they wanted to play like that, then you would too. “You guys are just mad he had the balls to make a move first. Even now, after all the times we talked about it, the rest of you STILL barely make any moves outside of PDA. Not my fault you guys are a bunch of wussies.” Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows at you while Jeongin let out a surprised laugh, and when you turned back to Minho. He all but raised his eyebrows at you. The final straw for them was when you stuck your tongue out at them and sent a middle finger each of their ways, grinning to yourself in victory.

Minho’s eyes flickered to your wrist, your shiny silver bracelet sitting nicely against your skin. A shiver is sent through you when his eyes meet yours again. Well.. maybe not a complete victory.

“You know what, since you want to be a smartass. My room. Now.” Your eyes widened, taken off guard by how suddenly he switched up. He smirked internally as he watched you blink rapidly at him, but kept up a serious face. When you stood there for too long he spoke up again, “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you rather me fuck you against the dirty kitchen floor.” When you shook your head, he grabbed your decorated wrist. He pulled it closer to his face to relish its beauty and its meaning, but also for the younger boys to see clearly what he was getting at. “Hmmm. But I don’t think I stuttered. Did you guys hear me stutter?”

A curt “Nope.” was heard from Seungmin and Jeongin said he “Heard you loud and clear, hyung.”

“That’s what I thought… So, would you care to explain why you are not naked on my bed right now?” You muttered a quiet apology before pulling away from the man and speed walking to the room. Jeongin watched as the two older men stalked after you before disappearing behind you into the room, and his chips were quickly forgotten as he stumbled after them.

You situated yourself in the middle of the bed with your legs folded under your ass and your heart pounding in your ears. The three men stood in front of you, Minho’s head tilted with a shit eating grin on his face as the other looked you up and down like they wanted to eat you alive. Memories from that very first Friday's events suddenly flooded in and you could almost laugh at the situation repeating itself. Talk about deja vu.

Seungmin was the first to speak up as he slowly walked towards you, “Last call, puppy. You okay with this?” When you silently nodded he narrowed his eyes at you and moved his fingers to pinch your cheek, “Words.”

“Yes! Yes, it’s okay..”

The second the words left your mouth, the boys behind him started undressing themselves. You got to enjoy the view for only a few seconds before Seungmin was pulling the oversized sweater above your head. Once it was completely off you heard the boys groan at the sight of you in just your underwear, and you couldn't help but giggle at their reaction. The now naked Minho took a seat at the foot of the bed as Jeongin stood in his spot and stared at you, biting his lips as he palmed himself through his underwear.

Seungmin hurriedly rid you of the thin pieces of cloth and ran a finger over your nipple. You sighed at the feeling before moaning painfully when he pinched and lightly pulled at it. “Undress me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes before rising to your feet on shaky legs. Your hands pulled the hem of his shirt up and over his head and then you sank to your knees. He watched silently and looked down at you with lidded eyes as you grabbed both elastic bands of his bottoms.

You bite your lip in order to hide a smirk and before he can ask what you are doing your hand pulls the elastic of his underwear back and lets go. The sound of it hitting his skin startled him more than the pain hurt, but that didn’t stop him from jumping and letting out a surprised noise. Before you have any more time to laugh, a hand shoots into your hair. It grabs a tight handful and positions your head to look up at him, then his other hand comes down against your cheek. “You think you’re fucking funny? I think you forget that I’m the worst out of everybody. Don’t make me break you, pup.”

The reminder had your pussy dripping but you nodded as best as you could, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah sure you are. Now get on with it.” When his hand stood its ground in your hair, you pushed his bottoms as far down as you could reach and watched as he kicked them away. Your eyes followed his length, from this distance your tongue could almost reach the tip. You wanted nothing more than to have him down your throat and saliva started to pool in your mouth in excitement. Your eyes met his as they softened, it reminded you that you were the one really in control here. “You remember what to do if it’s too much?”

When you nodded and repeated back your safeword along with a ‘tap 3 times if I can’t speak’ he smiled and his demeanor returned to the previous. “Good girl… Now, you’re gonna suck my cock while Jeongin fingers that pretty pussy.” You nodded eagerly and the grip on your head led you closer to his dick. Your tongue was out and ready for him, but he teased you again by pulling you away the second your tongue got too close. He let out a chuckle at your frown and grabbed himself from the base. He pulled you closer and smacked his tip against your tongue a few times, sighing to himself at the feeling. “Lapping at me like a real puppy.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he finally sunk himself into your mouth. The salty taste flooded your mouth when he wasted no time before using the grip in your hair to fuck your mouth against him. He let out heavy breaths and low groans as his head tilted back. “God, what a wet fuckin mouth...” Once he sunk in further, your eyes closed as you focused on holding back your gag reflex and breathing through your nose. He let out loud groans whenever you swallowed around the tip lodged into your throat.

Suddenly 2 long fingers trailed down to rub against your folds, pushing into you with no warning when you grinded onto them. They made a scissoring motion that pulled wet, squelching noises from your pussy that made you dizzy. Jeongin whispered something into your ear about you being loose before a 3rd finger was added. Then, out of nowhere, they were shoved to his final knuckle and curving into your weakest spot. It made you gag against Seungmin, pulling a loud moan from him as his hips stuttered. He pulled you off him before shooting a glare at the man beside you.

You coughed as air returned to your lungs and Jeongin spoke. “Haha sorry. But, I don’t think she needs much prep, she’s taking 3 of my fingers no problem. What's got your pussy all loose for us baby?” He whispered the last part just loud enough for the other two men to hear before latching himself onto your neck.

You looked between the two and cleared your throat, trying to focus on your words and not the nonstop curling of fingers inside of you, “Channie fucked me a few times this morning b-before he left for the studio..” A scoff was heard from Seungmin and Jeongin’s fingers faltered.

“Yeah of course he fucking did.”

Minho stood from his spot on the bed before reaching between your legs, “Let me see.” Jeongin went to pull his fingers out and let him have a go, but before he could Minho shoved two fingers in next to the three that were already buried. You gasped at the drier stretch and moaned when both of their fingers started thrusting into you. The difference in the lengths and thicknesses made you clench tightly against them and squeal, causing Jeongin to groan in response and curl his fingers harder.

“Mmmm.. Yeah she is ready. At least Channie-hyung did us a favor.” Minho curled his fingers roughly before pulling them out, sliding his knuckles across your clit in the process. Jeongin followed in suit once the older returned to his desk chair, smiling wickedly and slapping his palm on your cunt once his fingers were free “Haha.. Think you can even handle it baby?”

You grinned at him, “Think you can even deliver?’ His smile faltered and he frowned at you. Seungmin chuckled and loosened his grip in your hair, massaging it lightly until Jeongin grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. 

When Seungmin finally moves away, Jeongin pushes you to sit on the bed, swiftly shoving a pillow under your ass before shoving you almost flat against the sheets. He gives you no time to steal a glance, pulling himself out of his underwear and immediately running himself along your folds. You sigh and your eyelids flutter as he does so. He pauses his movements when Seungmin returns with a bottle of lube, handing it to the maknae before settling himself at the head of the bed.

You watch the older of the two curiously, almost motioning for him to come closer so you could suck him off but all of a sudden Jeongin meanly shoves his now lubed up dick into your walls. He’s so deep all so suddenly and it has your eyes rolling into your skull as your jaw drops. His hands find refuge against the bed near your shoulders as he lifts his hips to slam them back against yours. For a moment, nothing but gasps fall from your mouth as Jeongin rams into you, damn near hitting your cervix without even bottoming in all the way.” Did he magically get bigger or something?? What the f- “F-Fuck! How are you-” You’re quickly interrupted by a moan when your gaze returns to his face, a cocky smirk prominent as Seungmin laughs from his spot on the bed. You swore he was deeper than before and the thought has you whining pathetically below him as your head was thrown back.

“What’s wrong, puppy? I thought you could handle it.”

Jeongin is desperate to see you fall apart so he lands a slap against your clit and watches in amusement as your legs struggle to close around his hips. Your eyes water when you look up at him through your lashes and he tilts his head teasingly. He smiles before landing a slap to your thigh and rubbing his thumb roughly against your clit.

You hear Minho’s voice from the desk, “Come on, Kitty.. You can’t even take Iyen-ah all the way? Tsk.. I thought Channie said you were a good slut.” In response, a desperate moan is pulled from you at the thought of them talking so vulgarly about you amongst each other and you hear scattered laughs amongst the three. The man above you chuckles before breathlessly speaking up, “It’s fine, Hyung. I just need to train her to take me all the way.” He ends his sentence with a sharp, deep thrust that pushes his final inches into you.

Your eyebrows curve and you silently scream, gasping and shaking under him as he rubs along every inch of your walls. “See? Wasn’t even that hard. Bet it’s because the little whore was still stretched from Channie-hyung.” The sound of Seungmin’s deepening voice combined with their casual chatter about you while you’re being drilled into so deeply it has you clenching down dangerously on Jeongin. Your orgasm starts to take over, causing him to moan at the constant clenching. His thumb moves faster against you as his hips slow down so that he grinds into you at a medium pace until you eventually stop gushing around him. Then he’s speeding up again to chase his own high.

“You feel that?” He starts, angling his hips to aim directly into the gummy spot in your walls. Unable to respond, your hands clutch the sheets and you cry out as the grip your cunt has around him doesn't let up. He groans from above you before continuing, “Yeah, riiight there. That’s where I’m gonna cum, and you’re gonna take it. Right, baby? Fuuuuck.. Yeah, you’re gonna take it.” Your hands squeeze into his forearms as he speeds up and the two of you share a desperate look before his lips crash into yours.

He pulls away from your lips to groan loudly as he cums, pulling out so that only his tip is nestled in you. His head angles down to look where the two of you meet and one of his hands shoots down to stroke himself through his orgasm. You feel his hips stutter and lightly thrust back into you in the process, but he watches with deep moans as your cunt milks him dry. Once he’s finished, he pulls the rest of the way out and slaps his tip against your clit playfully, laughing when you groan and push his hips away. Your lips meet one more time before he taps you on the ass and moves away from the bed completely.

Your eyes close as you’re given a few minutes to catch your breath. While this goes on you hear footsteps closing in on you and a voice speaks up from in front of you, “My turn, pup.” 

Your eyes open for a second before you’re flipped onto your stomach. You yelp but giggle when he pulls you up to kneel against the bed, holding you against his broad chest. He trails kisses down your neck as his hands roam up your body, squeezing your hips before his left hand settles against your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but uses it to hold you possessively as you melt into his arms.

“You good to go?” He mumbles against your shoulder. When he feels you nod, his right hand pulls away from your skin and lands a nasty slap to your ass cheek. Instead of him speaking up, Minho is heard somewhere to your left, “He asked you a question, Kitty.” You let out a moan before quickly apologizing, “Uhh~ I’m sorry.. Yes, I’m good. So good.. Please, Minnie.”

He doesn’t respond and instead pushes you forward and shoves your face into the sheets. A hand rests between your shoulder blades as he slides in, humming at the sight of Jeongin’s cum being pushed out of you. He starts off at a medium pace, wanting to give you a break and wanting to revel in the wet sounds coming from your cunt. His hand lightly traces down your back and joins the other in a death grip on your hips.

You turn your neck to lay your cheek against the sheets, and you're met with the sight of Minho leaning back in his chair. His eyes are lidded as they watch your body and his dick visibly twitches when your eyes meet. You can’t help but moan once his hand reaches for his dick. He just smirks and softly rocks it back and forth, teasing you because he knows you can’t get him yet. You pout and whine, causing the man fucking into you to catch onto what is happening. He frowns and slows his pace just enough to grab at you.

One hand tangles into your hair as the other grabs your throat, using both as leverage to pull you to sit up as he continues to fuck into you. The new position and rough pace has your jaw dropping and the hand around your neck quickly takes advantage of the opportunity. 2 fingers are shoved past your lips, fucking themselves into your throat and making you choke. Your eyebrows furrow further as his previous pace continues and he pulls you into his thrusts. Your orgasm is building up fast, but the bullying of his dick against your walls feels like it's almost too much. You tap his wrist and his fingers are instantly removed from your throat. “S-Seungmin!!! Wait!”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m here shoving my dick in your tight pussy, and you’re so cock hungry that you’re eyeing up another man.” The grip in your hair tightens before pulling you flat against him. His thrusts stop completely and he instead holds you in place while he continues. “You already had Jeongin’s cock fuck you open, and I was trying to be nice but now you’re basically drooling over my hyung.” You moan and grind back against him desperately trying to push yourself over the edge. He notices right away and his free hand smacks down on your ass, pulling a cry from your raw throat. “Now look at you. Greedy fucking pussy sucking me in while I’m yelling at you.”

You whine out an apology and glance over to the older man in question, the smirk is still on his face but his dick rests against his stomach now. “‘M sorry Seungmin..”

“Don’t act like a stupid pup.” He growls, landing another slap to your ass. “You’re only sorry cause my dick isn’t moving.” Before you have a chance to respond, he’s pushing you forward again. This time he pins both your hands to your back with one of his, then the free hand returns to your hair to shove your cheek against the bed. He makes sure to face you away from Minho before he starts moving into you at a painstakingly slow pace, but he also makes sure he goes as deep as physically possible while in this position.

You desperately try to crawl up the bed when you swear you can feel him in your throat, but he only drags you back and alternates smacks across your ass cheeks. “Stop fucking running. Be a good bitch.” When your moans quiet down and turn into whimpers, he finally lets up on your ass. Then a grin takes over his face when your hands stay against your back even when his hands move away.

He leans forward and once his face is near yours he coos lowly. Jeongin watches in pure awe as the scene unfolds in front of him. He’s never experienced this before and the sight of you physically melting into the sheets has his dick twitching back to life again. Minho’s eyes widen for a moment but he chuckles to himself and returns his attention to the scene in front of him just in time to hear Seungmin talk again.

Your eyes have lost focus and you feel your brain turning to mush. “There she is… Hi baby.” One of his hands moves to pet your head, then moves to stroke your cheek as his hips pull away from yours, “You gonna be good for me now babe? Gonna let Minnie take care of you?” You whine out a pathetic “Uh-huh” and he knows you’ve almost completely drifted into subspace when the lack of being filled is enough to make tears subconsciously form in your eyes, some falling when he finally pushes back in.

“Shhhh, I got you baby. Minnie’s gonna fuck you nice and good now. You know your safe word.” You nod and push your hips into him so he returns to the rough thrusts from earlier and his thumbs rub back and forth against your clit. At this rate, your orgasm builds back up in no time. He leans forward and sucks hickeys up your neck, slowly leading his lips to yours in the process. When you feel his soft lips push against yours your orgasm finally takes over. Your legs shake and try to clamp shut against his hand but he grabs them and holds them in place as he speeds up his thrusts.

He pulls away from your lips to listen to your cries, his own orgasm finally creeping up on him. “Gonna cum in this pretty pussy. You want it mixed with Iyen-ah’s?” You respond with whiny pleads and nods, “Please! Please Minnie..! Pretty please…”

He bites into his lip as he finishes himself off, groaning as he fills you to the brim. Both of you ride your orgasms together until he finally pulls away to watch his dick slide out of you. The combined loads leave a thick white ring around his dick.

He doesn’t move away from you immediately, instead opting to shower kisses down your back and whisper praises against your skin. Then you both hear Minho stand from his chair. He slowly walks towards the bed after tucking himself in his boxers.“You still with us, Kitty?” He laughs when you nod feverishly and rasp out, “jus’ need water please..” Jeongin is quick to grab a water bottle out of the nightstand beside him and sit next to your now upright form. He holds the bottle and tilts it for you as they instruct you to take small sips.

When he leans away to return the bottle to the nightstand, your hands shoot out towards the oldest and he pulls you into his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him into a series of kisses. It turned into a slow and sweet makeout session until your hips started to ground down against his, his dick still hard and now sandwiched by both of your pelvis’. 

You whine into his mouth from overstimulation and his hands grab your hips to hold you in place. He’s the first to pull away from the kiss, smiling up at you when a deep pout forms on your face. “You sure about that, Kitty? They already put you through a lot.”

A cry is pulled from your lips, “No…! No please Min! I was good for them, I’ll be your good kitty too, please! I promise!” He hushes you and pushes you off him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and laying back before signaling you with a ‘come hither’ motion. You’re quick to crawl back into his lap and grind against his dick impatiently.

“What’s your color?”

“Green.” When he stays quiet you whine and repeat yourself, “I said green! Green I swear! Min pleas-” He shuts you up by hooking a thumb in your mouth and pushing against your cheek, humming when you run your tongue along the digit and suck it.

“You like being our little cocksleeve that much? Hmmmm?” You give an eager nod and grind down harder, making him grin. “If you wanna be my good kitty you’re gonna have to ride me. How’s that sound?” You respond with a muffled agreement and he pulls you up just enough to rub himself along your folds. “So wet and messy down here.. The boys really did a number on you, huh?” He says it more to himself, and doesn’t even allow you time to answer before he’s sliding in.

You sink down all the way and throw your head back. Your legs shake against his hips and he smirks, running his hands up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe you. Once you’re ready, you lift yourself and drop your hips against his a few times to test the waters. And once you’re comfortable, you set a slow but pleasurable pace and ride him almost weakly. His eyes are glued to your chest and he reaches up to grab a hold of your neck, using it to guide you forward and leaning you towards him so your chest is leveled with his face. The feeling of his tongue against your neglected nipple has your hips stuttering, but you’re desperate to please him so you quickly return to your efforts.

Suddenly there’s an extra pair of cold hands against your sweaty skin and Jeongin’s voice is heard from behind you, “Jagiya… Need you again..” He ruts against your ass and you moan when you feel how hard he is again. Minho reluctantly pulls away from your chest once he realizes what the youngest wants, and he locks eyes with you to make sure it’s okay. “We talked about it already, but are you sure it’s okay?”

“God, yes please..” They both smile at how fucked out you sound but ultimately nod at each other, and Minho holds a tight grip on your hips to keep you still as Jeongin pushes in next to him. He slowly pushes in as Minho lets a hand trail down to rub messy shapes into your clit.

“Deep breaths. We got you Jagi.” Minho mumbles into your ear, pressing kissing to your temple as Jeongin holds your ass cheeks apart to give himself more space to work with. When his hips finally stop you let out shaky breaths and try your best to not clench on them too hard. Jeongin’s hands are running up and down your back soothingly as Minho’s rest on your thigh, his kisses still being littered across the side of your face that he can reach.

They check once more that you’re okay before they start slowly fucking into you, stopping completely anytime they heard a hiss. Eventually, with the help of your last orgasms and the fucking within an inch of your life that Seungmin just gave you, you start to loosen up more. They take their time speeding up their thrusts, Jeongin doesn’t even dare to try and bottom out. But he does manage to push a few more inches into you as you loosen up more.

When your quiet whimpers turn to full moans, they don’t hold back as much and fuck harder into you. This goes on for a few minutes before a door opening and closing and a quiet “Holy fuck.” is heard from the missing third man.

“Jesus, pup..” Your face turns to look at him and he can see tears streaming down your face. He almost folds on the spot, but the sound of your voice calling out to him has him basically sprinting to the bed. He crawls onto the sheets and sits by your head, reaching a hand to stroke your hair as he pulls his phone out.

Seungmin lets out a breathy laugh at the way your eyes sparkle, and he takes a few pictures of you all fucked out between the two boys. You lean in to pull his boxers down but he swats you away. Instead, he grabs your face by your jaw and leans down to pull you into a kiss, occasionally dropping further and leaving wet kisses along your neck. “One more time for us, m’kay pup? Then we’ll be done and we can go take a shower.”

The two men inside you are close, their frantic moans and groans are telltale signs of it. Their ruthless fucking continues for another few minutes and it rips another orgasm from you, one that causes a death grip around them in your walls. Minho’s hips stop completely and he lets the erratic movements of the younger man help him ride out his orgasm. You can feel the combined mixture of their cum with yours pooling out of you and it makes Minho shiver when some of it trails down his sensitive dick.

When they’re finally finished, Seungmin pulls away from you and the two still shoved inside of you start to pull out slowly. You’re laid on your side as Minho slides from underneath you, and both men disappear into the bathroom as Seungmin scoots closer to you. He smiles and lands a soft kiss on your nose and allows you to catch your breath. He stands and you hear a few camera clicks before you look up to see his smirk behind his phone. You flip him the finger and he laughs loudly, “Fucked your brains out and you still have the energy for that attitude. sigh.. What are we gonna do with you, baby?”

The cloth he returned with earlier is used to wipe you down. He kisses apologies into your hip as he tries to clean your overly sensitive pussy as fast as possible. When he’s done, you notice the sound of the shower in the background, and Jeongin walks back into the room from the hallway with wet hair.

“Shower time Jagi!!” He smiles at you and leans down to place a kiss on your temple. Seungmin defensively pulls you against him and glares at the younger boy, “I got her. Go away ugly.” You wheeze out a laugh at the two bickering and are suddenly the victim of a kiss off. A “who can kiss you better” challenge that you weren’t even aware of until your face was suddenly sloppy from wet kisses.

It’s not until Minho walks out from his shower a few seconds later that the two stop their attacks, “What the hell? Okay, can one of you at least take her to shower so I can clean off my bed?” He grumbles almost angrily, but when you look over at him he has a small smile. Before Jeongin can even turn around, Seungmin is already helping you to your feet and walking you to the shower.

The rest of the night is a blur after that. The shower, the snacks, and the cuddle puddle were all fuzzy in your head. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was being on a new bed in a different room, and Seungmin pulling you as close to him as possible as the other boys left the room.

You lay chest to chest with him, your breaths matching with his, and his soft hands caressing your thigh while he places soft kisses against your lips. His pretty hands caress your cheeks and your eyes hold each other’s gazes between kisses. Part of you wonders where the other boys had gone, and if you had the energy to ask you would have. But when your eyes start to flutter closed out of heaviness and his fingers continue to stroke your skin, you don’t think you want to bother caring.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[kwanisms]

The Witch & the Lamb — k.hongjoong

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➮ witch!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 33.5k (i am so sorry) summary: Hongjoong lives on the edge of a village nestled in the Carpathian Mountains and mostly keeps to himself except when he comes to town to sell his wares. After the town’s governor’s daughter catches his eye, it starts to cause problems for him. Problems that are made worse when he’s accused of being the source of the village’s problems. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals; attempted SA, Hongjoong is treated like shit by the villagers & later accused of witchcraft, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is dark), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglist have been moved to the reblogs. join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: I said I was going to write a backstory for Hongjoong and here it is. It’s kind of long so read with caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason. Hongjoong isn’t the asshole, the villagers aren’t the asshole, this is a total ESH (everyone sucks here) kind of situation. Everyone does what they do for a reason. That being said, please enjoy this part and keep an eye out for the next part which will introduce the rest of the priests aka Yunho, Mingi, San, Wooyoung, and Jongho. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: dirty talk, virgin!Reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, breeding kink, praise (f receiving), and I think that’s it? There are two sex scenes in this so if I missed any, I’m sorry! Just let me know!~

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A sense of community is something many people strive for, especially in rural areas but for Hongjoong, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He hated the idea of community. Mainly because his community hated him.

Maybe hate was the wrong word, but strongly disliked covered it pretty well.

Hongjoong was well aware that he was considered an outsider of his community. Never mind the fact his home had been there longer than the village. These woods had always been his home. He’d grown up in them, played alone in them, explored them as a teen. As far as he was concerned, they were his woods.

And he didn’t like anyone in his woods, especially not the villagers.

Unless that villager was you, of course.

You stepped out into the cool autumn morning, the gray clouds overhead threatening to bring rain. You had errands to run, items to trade, and chores to do and to get it all done in a timely manner, it required you to start your day early.

As you started for the small village square where the market was always set up, you caught sight of movement out of the corner of your eye. Nicolas had spotted you and no doubt was ready to make his move.

It was well known amongst the people in your age range that Nicolas had eyes for you. He’d made his intentions clear from the start but to you, he was no better than the pests that bothered your animals. A fly buzzing around the eyes and ears, a bug to be swatted at.

As you continued your walk, Nicolas’ path intercepted yours and soon he was standing directly in your way. Instead of giving into the urge to push him out of your way and earn the ire of your parents and possibly Nicolas’ parents, you forced a polite smile.

“Good morrow, Nicolas,” you murmured, trying to step around the man. “Why are you behaving so bizarrely, Y/N?” he asked, a smirk present on his face. You wanted to slap that look off his face but chose against it. Better to grin and bear it. “No reason,” you answered.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I am not in the mood for your games, Nicolas. I have errands to be done,” you said, stopping to look at him. “Go your way and I shall go mine.”

Before he could say anything else, you managed to duck around him and continue down the path. You were walking past the square where the marketplace had been set up. Your eyes wandered over where several of your neighbors and members of the village were set up to sell their wares.

It wasn’t uncommon on this day of the week for people to sell things. They’d worked all week and now had something to show for it. Your eyes were drawn in particular to one spot. A small cart with furs, antlers, bones, and plenty of other animal parts. Your eyes traveled to the owner and a smile crossed your face.

It was Hongjoong. He was currently talking to Gideon about something you couldn’t hear but when Gideon nodded and the two traded, Hongjoong handed over a couple rabbit pelts and some leather in exchange for a knife. As Gideon walked away, Hongjoong looked up, meeting your gaze. He sent a nod in your direction which you reciprocated before turning away.

You couldn’t afford to be distracted by him when you had plenty of errands to run.

You went about your errands, trading the jams your mother had made with the kind old widow who lived next to the church. You also took the cheese you had extra of to her sister who lived next door. She loved the goat cheese you made and would spend actual coin on it. She also always had the loveliest baked goods which she shared with you on occasion. 

As you left her home, you bumped into someone, dropping your bag of scones onto the ground. You mumbled an apology and knelt to pick up the bag but a set of hands beat you to it. Looking up, you saw the face of the young pastor who had joined your village only last winter, Yeosang.

You stood upright as he handed the bag to you. “My apologies,” he said softly, a kind smile on his face. “I didn’t see you standing there.” You took the bag, mumbling a thanks. “It’s my fault,” you replied. “I was not paying attention.”

Yeosang’s smile widened slightly. “No doubt distracted by the baked goods Mrs. Goode gave you?” he asked, a slight hint of amusement to his voice. Your cheeks burned but you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. “She likes the cheese and jams my family makes,” you explained. Yeosang nodded thoughtfully.

“As do I,” he answered. “Your mother was kind enough to offer me some last month. Do you make the cheese yourself?” he asked as you turned to start the trek back to your place. You nodded silently. “Your mother tells me you’ve been making cheese since you were a young girl,” he continued. You nodded once more. “Aye, I have,” you answered.

“I like making things. I do not get to craft much but baking, cooking, jam and cheese making is one of my favorite pastimes,” you explained as you headed back towards the market. You caught sight of Hongjoong as he was carving something with the knife he’d procured from Gideon. He glanced up, meeting your gaze and gave you a smile before noticing Yeosang beside you. Yeosang noticed Hongjoong and sent him a polite nod which Hongjoong returned.

“I have business to attend to,” Yeosang said as he turned away from Hongjoong to look at you. “Have a pleasant day,” he added, giving you a small bow before turning and heading back in the direction of the church. You turned towards the market where Hongjoong was showing someone the selection of dried herbs he had. As they came to an agreement, you slowly approached, waiting for them to depart before approaching the stand.

“I’m almost out of rabbit pelts,” he said, not looking up as he tucked the knife away in the leather sheath at his hip and looked up, his eyes widening in surprise before a smile spread across his face. “Well, well, well.” he said with a smirk, not unlike the one Nicolas had given you earlier.

The difference was that while you didn’t much care for Nicolas, you definitely liked Hongjoong.

“I have no need for rabbit pelts,” you replied, a smirk spreading across your face as Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his cart. “No need for rabbit pelts?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Not even one?”

You shook your head. “I have nothing to trade for it,” you answered. Hongjoong smiled before standing up straight and turning to his cart. He started shifting things and sifting through a bag before pulling something out and turning to you and closing the short distance.

“I ask for nothing,” he started, presenting a pure white pelt of fur. You glanced down at it and back up at him. “It’s pure white,” you noted. Hongjoong smiled warmly. “Aye,” he answered. “It’s beautiful, is it not?”

You nodded, reaching out cautiously to touch the soft fur. “And so soft,” you whispered. Hongjoong motioned for you to take it, prompting you to withdraw your hand. “I could not,” you said quickly. Hongjoong shook his head and wordlessly took your hand and placed the pelt in it. “I already told you,” he said softly. “I ask for nothing in return. Think of it as a gift.” 

Your cheeks burned as you looked at the fur in your hands. “Thank you,” you said softly, looking up to meet Hongjoong’s dark brown eyes. Of all the men in the village and that you’ve seen passing through, Hongjoong was the most beautiful. He was not a member of the community, his family having settled in the woods long before your village was established.

You’d never seen the cabin he called home but you’d heard much about it from the stories Hongjoong told you. You wanted to see his home, see where he lived and what kind of home he kept on his own.

Hongjoong took a step forward, eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching too closely before he slipped something into your hand. “Come see me in a month and I might have another white pelt for you,” he said softly, a smile on his face as he backed away.

You nodded, unable to speak before muttering a departing goodbye and hurried away from the market, hand gripping the paper he’d pressed into your palm. Once you were a good distance away and able to slip out of sight, you unfolded the paper to read what he’d written.

There’s a full moon tonight, come see her with me? I can show you the new constellations for the season.

Your lips pulled into a smile as you read his note over and over before folding it up and tucking it away in your dress. You headed out of your hiding space, glancing back to find Hongjoong speaking to another village elder, showing off his items for trade. 

You headed for your house, smiling to yourself as you walked, a skip in your step.

When your family first moved to this village, Hongjoong’s family had already lived in the woods and you were a mere 12 years old. You vaguely remembered his parents, mainly his mother. She was gorgeous and had a different kind of beauty than you’d grown accustomed to.

She wore loose gowns and her hair down. She didn’t seem bound to the same rules and regulations the women of your village were, preferring to be free and not hide her natural beauty. The day she passed was a day you’d remember forever. Hongjoong was barely 17 when his mother passed away from some mysterious illness.

You didn’t see him or his father for weeks as they mourned. You had almost thought they left until months later, when you saw Hongjoong’s father speaking to one of the village elders, trading what seemed to be a lot of furs for seed, tools, and a few goats.

After that, you started to see Hongjoong more frequently, trading his own furs as well as various dried herbs he collected himself. You’d always admired him from afar, not feeling brave enough to approach him until one day you ran into him while on a walk with one of your friends from the village. She was apprehensive of Hongjoong but you were not. 

You were intrigued by him and his life which seemed like a big mystery to you. Hongjoong was surprised that you weren’t put off by his presence, having grown accustomed to the rumors and the rest of the village avoiding him and his father. He knew what they said about his mother and what they said about him.

You were different though. You treated him with nothing but kindness and respect, something he hadn’t experienced with the other kids in the village. You even offered your condolences about the passing of his mother, telling your friend off when she called his mother a witch.

That day, Hongjoong knew he could trust you. When his father died some months after he turned 18, you were the first person Hongjoong went to, the only person to see his walls break down and cry openly. You’d been there to dry his tears and tell him everything would be alright. You were there to offer him kindness in a dark period of his life and keep him afloat,

That was the day Hongjoong knew he loved you.

From that day on, Hongjoong would sneak into your village and you would sneak out of your house to meet with him. The two of you would sneak around to the forest and venture into the trees. Hongjoong would show you all his favorite spots including a small wildflower clearing. It was here he would show you the stars and tell you about them.

He’d learned astronomy and astrology from his mother. She knew the constellations, planets, and stars and would teach him from a young age. She also taught him about the natural world, something he passed onto you.

As your friendship grew throughout your teens, a romance started to blossom until one night, Hongjoong confessed his feelings for you, sealing it with a kiss. Your first kiss. Compared to the rest of the people in your village, Hongjoong was so different. He wasn’t confined to the same rules that seemed to govern your village.

Hongjoong made it clear he didn’t share the same faith as your neighbors. He believed in something different and he did his best to teach you his beliefs in a way that made sense to you. He felt a strong connection to the earth and nature, something you respected.

The more time you spent with him, the more you started to understand him and his way of life. You wanted to be as carefree and as happy as he was. Your time together grew and often, you would lose track of the time and come home as the sun was beginning to peek through the trees. It was innocent in every way but when your mother caught you trying to sneak in after a night out, you knew you would have to be more careful in the future.

You’d been caught more than a few times but always by your mother. If your father had caught you sneaking back in, your punishments would be much more severe. Your mother usually just tacked more chores on and refused to let you leave the house.

After a few days, your transgressions would be forgiven and forgotten and you’d be back in the woods at midnight to meet Hongjoong again. He was like honey, drawing you in with his sweetness. You couldn’t get enough of him.

As you reached the front door and opened it, you greeted your mother and walked over to where she was boiling something over the hearth. “Mrs. Goode gave us some pastries,” you announced as you walked over and set the bag down. “She loved the jams as did her sister,” you continued as you started putting away the things you’d collected on your errands.

“Did she give you any of those scones she makes?” your mother asked as you turned, bag in hand. “Aye, she did,” you answered, walking over to show your mother the pastries who smiled as you started to empty the bag, placing the pastries in a basket on the mantle of the fireplace.

“What’s this?” your mother asked, noticing the white rabbit pelt. “Oh, nothing. Just a gift,” you answered, turning away and starting to put the rest of the goods away. “Oh?” your mother asked. “From whom?” 

Before you could answer, the front door opened and your father entered the house. You excused yourself and headed up to your room to put the rabbit pelt away. The rest of the day you spent inside, helping your mother around the house, mending some of your father’s shirts as well as your mother’s favorite apron.

Once the inside chores were done, you headed out to do some of the gardening and tending to the flower garden but also the small herb garden you’d started after learning from Hongjoong. Your mother was surprised by your skill with the garden but she didn’t complain as she loved having fresh mint and rosemary on hand.

After your chores were done, you were allowed to rest for a bit before you helped your mother in the kitchen prepare dinner so when your father came back from meeting with the other town elders, it would be ready.

It was a simple stew, made even more delicious by your additions from the herb garden and some of the mushrooms you’d foraged on one of your trips to the forest. Hongjoong had taught you everything you knew about the wild plants and edible vegetation that grew there.

Your mother never said anything and was grateful for the additional ingredients most of the villagers didn’t have.

After dinner, you sat down to read a book you were borrowing from the church, something Yeosang had lent you a few days prior. Your mother was seated by the fire, making a new quilt for the upcoming winter season. She’d already finished one for her and your father’s bed but she knew you needed a new one.

Your father sat in his chair at the table, mumbling to himself as he cleaned his pipe. After finishing a few chapters of the book you were reading, you closed the book and looked at your mother. “May I be excused? I am quite tired and if I go to bed now, I can get up earlier and visit the chicken coop to get fresh eggs for breakfast,” you explained. Your mother looked up from her quilting and nodded silently.

“Goodnight then,” you said, getting to your feet and walking over to kiss your mother’s cheek. “Don’t forget your prayers,” your mother said as you walked over to where your father sat and bid him goodnight as well before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. 

Once inside, you removed your shoes and pretended to get ready for bed. You climbed into bed, fully clothed and pulled the covers up to hide your plain clothes. You lay there for a few hours before you finally heard your father join your mother in their room, shutting the door. You gave it another hour before deciding it was safe to get up.

Carefully, you pulled your boots back on and grabbed your cloak. You made your way downstairs as quietly as you could before heading for the door. You opened it, careful not to make too much sound and stepped out under the pretense of going to the outhouse.

Once you were outside, you made sure the coast was clear, pulled your hood off and made your way to the forest, avoiding walking where you could be seen. As soon as you were in the trees, you grabbed your skirts and started making the trek to the clearing where you knew Hongjoong would be waiting.

You arrived as the clouds parted, moonlight filling the clearing and allowing you to see everything in the silver light. You could make out a figure sitting in the middle and walked over. You knelt down, throwing your arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders and surprising him.

“Starlight,” he said as he pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “You made it,” he murmured, hugging you tightly. You pulled back to look up at him, giggling as he cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek before moving to your bottom lip.

“I missed you,” he said softly before closing the distance, pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back, your hand moving to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair. “Sorry,” you said softly. “I got caught sneaking back in the other morning,” you added.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue and smiled at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You have got to be more careful,” he mumbled against your skin. “I went out the front door this time,” you replied. “I think if she catches me coming in through the door, I can pass it off as going to the outhouse,” you explained. Hongjoong snorted before shaking his head.

“Such a clever girl,” he whispered. You looked skyward. “So,” you said, breaking the conversation. “What constellations do we have to look forward to tonight?”

Hongjoong spent the next couple hours pointing out different celestial bodies, telling you which ones they were and telling you about their properties in astrology. You lay next to one another on a blanket he brought to place on the grass as a barrier between your bodies and the ground. You weren’t sure when but at some point, you fell asleep, face buried in his chest as he hummed a melody, gently stroking your back.

As you awoke, you peered up at him. The moon had shifted in the sky, the light now coming from behind you and illuminating his face. He looked peaceful, eyes shut as he hummed that same lullaby. “Hongjoong?” you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.

His eyes fluttered open before landing on your face, a soft smile gracing his features. “What is it, Starlight?” he asked, his hand stilling on the small of your back. “How long have I been asleep?” you asked earnestly. Hongjoong glanced up at the sky, taking note of the change in the positions of the moon and the stars. “Hmm, maybe about an hour,” he answered.

You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the arm that was tucked under you. “I should probably head back,” you murmured. Hongjoong let out a quiet chuckle, moving his hand up to caress your cheek. “That would probably be for the best,” he hummed.

Neither of you made any attempts to move and you whined, rolling into him, pressing your face into his neck and inhaling his earth scent. “I don’t want to go back,” you whined. Hongjoong let out a low laugh this time, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him.

“You never want to, love,” he answered, the pet name sending a flutter through your stomach. “Can’t I just run away and come live with you?” you asked, pulling back to look up at his face. Hongjoong chuckled, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “As much as I would love that, Starlight,” he started. “I think your parents might figure out where you are and come to collect you.” You let out a groan of frustration. “Of course they would…”

Your eyes opened as a thought hit you and you quickly sat up, Hongjoong following, a look of concern and confusion etched onto his face. “Starlight?” he asked softly but you turned to look at him, excitement in your eyes.

“What if we both ran away?” you asked, catching him off guard. “We could leave together!” Hongjoong studied your expression as your words hung in the air. “You would do that?” he asked, scooting closer towards you. “You’d leave your village, your people, your family? Leave it all behind for me?” he asked, reaching up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, eyes shutting as you reveled in the warmth of his hand.

“I would,” you answered. “If it meant I got to be with you always.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. “Do you think we’d make it?” he asked, his hand sliding down to the side of your neck. You nodded, watching his eyes dip down to where his hand rested against your neck. “I think we could make it. Maybe settle in a different part of the forest or even a different village. Maybe on the other side of the mountains,” you continued, feeling his thumb brush against the front of your throat.

“Or maybe we could settle down near the sea,” he countered, looking up to meet your gaze. “Build a little cabin near the shore.” Your lips pulled into a smile. “You’d build me a little cabin?” you asked softly. Hongjoong nodded, leaning closer. “I’d build you a hundred cabins if it pleased you,” he whispered, his lips inches from yours.

You giggled softly. “Now what would I do with a hundred cabins, Hongjoong?” you asked, laughing when he broke into a smile. “Okay, I’ll build you just one. But a really nice one,” he retorted. “One I could always add onto,” he continued, leaning forward and pushing you onto your back. You giggled as he hovered over you, lips barely brushing your own.

“Add on to? Why would you need to add onto the cabin?” you asked as he smiled down at you. “If we decided to expand our family,” he answered, pressing a short, chaste kiss to your lips before kissing a trail down the side of your neck. “Children, you mean?” you asked and he pulled back to look at you, nodding. “Only if you want them, of course,” he replied.

You pulled him down into a kiss, muffling the groan that escaped once you felt his hands on your hips. “I do,” you finally said when he broke the kiss. “I do want your children.” Hongjoong let out a sigh, shifting his body so his hips rested between your thighs. It was the most intimate position you’d been in with him.

“You want to carry my babies?” he asked softly, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, moving up to whisper heavily in your ear. “You want me to get you pregnant?” he asked, hand sliding under your skirt and dragging his nails up the outside of your thigh. “Want me to do that right now? Make you mine and give you a baby at the same time?”

You let out a giggle as his breath tickled your neck. “Hongjoong! What if someone walks by?” you whispered. He pulled back, giving you a smirk. “No one ever walks past here, Starlight. These are my woods. People know better than to enter my woods,” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, I entered them,” you retorted. Hongjoong let out a chuckle. “You’re the only exception,” he replied. “You’re not just anyone. You’re my guiding star. These woods are just as much yours as they are mine, Starlight.” Your cheeks grew warm at his praise and suddenly, he was sitting up, taking your hand and helping you up.

“It is getting late, sweetheart,” he said as he glanced at the sky. “I don’t want you to get in trouble or not get any sleep before you start your chores in the morning. Come,” he added as he got to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take.

Once you were on your feet, he started to walk you in the direction of the village, taking care to help you over the fallen trees and broken branches until you reached the edge of the woods. Hongjoong turned you to face him, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss. “I hate parting,” he hummed as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“One day we won’t have to part,” you replied, looking up at him. Hongjoong smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Alright, Starlight,” he said softly. “You should head back. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” You nodded, starting to walk away but he held your hand. “I love you,” he said softly, making you break into a smile. “I love you,” you replied.

Once the words left your lips, he let go of your hand and watched as you exited the trees, sneaking around the back of the buildings until he was no longer in sight. As you reached your home, you stopped by the outhouse to do your business before heading back into the house. 

Shutting the door, you heard a creak and turned to find your mother standing at the base of the stairs, a candle in her hand. “What are you doing?” she asked in a hushed tone as you removed your hood. “I had to use the outhouse,” you answered. “I woke up with the urge.”

Your mother said nothing, only nodded and then gestured for you to head upstairs. You did so, her following you. As you reached the landing you bid her goodnight and went into your room, shutting the door. You quickly stripped down and put on your nightgown before getting into bed, forgetting your prayers altogether as you fell into a deep slumber.

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The following morning, your mother again asked what you did last night but you reiterated that you got up to use the outhouse. She asked why you were dressed and not in your nightgown and when you were unable to provide an answer, she knew you had snuck out yet again.

“How many times have I told you?” she scolded as you got ready to head to the chicken coop, your mother carrying a basket and accompanying you. “It’s dangerous to go out at night. Only devils, demons, and beasts wander the night,” she continued. “And you are no devil or demon nor beast, are you?” 

You shook your head in response as you worked. She tacked on extra work after you collected eggs. You were to milk the goats, clean their stalls, clean the house as well as tend to your gardens and help her with the laundry.

It wasn’t work you weren’t used to and you knew she was only doing it to keep a close eye on you. That night, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sneak out to see Hongjoong but you hadn’t made any plans to meet anyway. The next night you still weren’t able to sneak out without arousing suspicion.

On the third night, you received an unexpected visitor as you got up to get a glass of cider. You could hear your parents snoring in the other room as you tiptoed down the steps, barefoot in your nightgown and made your way over to the kitchen. You had just grabbed the pitcher when you heard a soft tapping on the window behind you.

Turning around, you were met with Hongjoong peering into the window. You gasped, setting the pitcher of cider down and rushed over to the window, carefully unlatching and opening it. “What are you doing?” you hissed at him as he smiled, leaning on the window sill.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in three days,” he whispered back. You glanced towards the stairs before looking back at him. “Mama caught me coming in and saw me in my plain clothes so I couldn’t talk my way out of it,” you explained. Hongjoong’s eyes wandered down to your nightgown before looking back up to meet your gaze.

“Maybe you should sneak out in your nightgown instead,” he whispered, giving you a mischievous smirk. You playfully swatted at him. “I just need to wait until she’s not as on guard before I can sneak out again,” you added. Hongjoong leaned further in, peering into the empty room. “Or I can come in,” he offered. Your eyes widened, brows rising as you placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back slightly.

“That is far too risky,” you replied. He leaned in closer, face near yours. “I promise I’ll be quiet, Starlight,” he whispered. You shook your head again. “No,” you replied, gently pushing him back. Hongjoong pouted but you stood firm, leaning in to kiss him. “I promise I will come see you. How about next week? Saturday night?”

Hongjoong smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “Alright,” he whispered. “I guess it’ll have to do. But don’t forget the week after that. The new moon. I want to show you something amazing.” You smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips. “It’s a date,” you replied.

“Now get out of my window. You’re gonna get me in trouble!” you hissed. Hongjoong chuckled, leaning in one last time for a kiss before he finally pulled away and started to head back to the woods. You shut the window and went back to the pitcher, pouring yourself a glass of cider.

As you sipped it, you heard the stairs creak. Your father appeared at the base of the stairs with a candle. “Oh, you’re up?” he asked. “It’s late. What are you doing up?” You held up the cup of cider. “I woke up thirsty so I came to get some cider,” you answered.

With a nod, your father started for the door, no doubt heading to the outhouse. You finished your drink and set aside the cup before heading back upstairs to your room. As you settled into bed, you heard your father climb the stairs and the door to your parents room shut.

The rest of the week passed by without incident, your mother’s watch grew lax and you were certain you were in the clear. It was the morning of Saturday and you were running errands for your mother once more, checking the market for any sign of Hongjoong but found none.

You were leaving the Smith’s home when a shrill wail sounded from near the well. You turned your head as a crowd started to gather, the elder minister, Jonas, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the epicenter, Yeosang in tow. You froze as the wails continued. You were vaguely able to pick out some words but most of it was a jumbled mess of wailing and cries.

You stepped off the front stoop and slowly made your way over to the crowd. Part of you wanted to see what was going on but you also had to pass by the area on your way back to your home. You stopped at the edge of the crowd, standing on your tiptoes to try and see past the villagers but before you caught sight of anything, you felt a gentle hand on your arm.

Turning your head, you saw Yeosang meet your eyes before he firmly but carefully dragged you away from the commotion. You twisted around to glance back at the crowd but Yeosang continued to pull you away. “Don’t,” he said softly. His voice was quiet but his tone was very firm.

You turned back around and walked with him, avoiding the crowd as you headed home.

“What happened?” you whispered, glancing at him. He shook his head. “Mrs. Collins says something is wrong with her child, the youngest,” he replied, keeping a hand on your back as he guided you towards your home. 

“Oh no,” you said softly. “Not the baby, surely?” you asked. Yeosang’s silence confirmed it for you. “She claims it’s some sort of bewitchment,” he continued, a look of disdain crossing his features briefly. “More likely some illness is the culprit.” You looked up at him as he seemed to contemplate something before his attention shifted.

“How are you?” he asked softly. “I’m all right,” you answered. “Been busy and my duties have kept me inside,” you explained. “But hopefully soon, I’ll be able to come out more. I miss the fresh air.” Yeosang stared at you for a moment before a smile spread across his face.

“You miss the forest,” he said. It wasn’t a question. You glanced at him, cheeks growing warm under his gaze. “I know more than you think I do,” he continued. “I’ve seen you coming out of the forest.” Your heart skipped a beat. Your panic must have shown because Yeosang placed a hand on your shoulder. “I would never tell your secret,” he said reassuringly.

“Hongjoong needs a friend and if it's you, then I am happy for the both of you.”

Your heart rate slowed back to normal and you took a deep breath. “What if it’s not just friendship?” you asked quietly, glancing over to where the crowd was now dispersing before looking back at Yeosang.

He studied your expression before speaking in a low voice. “Have you done something that would be considered improper with Hongjoong?” he asked. Your eyes widened. Had you been improper with him? The memory of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you the other night came to mind but that was the extent of it.

You shook your head. “No,” you replied. “Nothing like that. He’s never taken more than a kiss,” you admitted, cheeks burning under Yeosang’s gaze. You missed the look that Yeosang gave initially but he quickly changed it.

“Well if that’s all he’s taking, then I won’t say anything,” he said, his tone light as the two of you continued towards your front door. Yeosang stopped, guiding you to turn towards him and looked around before speaking in a low voice.

“I really am happy that Hongjoong has you but I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. Please, Y/N, be careful. Not everyone in this village would be so kind or welcoming of your��� friendship with him.”

Before you could respond, the door beside you opened and you turned your head to find your mother standing on the other side. She looked from you to the young pastor and back before noticing his gentle grip on your sleeve.

As quickly as she noticed, Yeosang let go of you and stood upright, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him, scrambling for something to say. “Th-thank you for walking me back,” you said quickly, bowing your head. “It’s been a pleasure to talk with you again.” Yeosang gave you a warm smile.

“The pleasure has been mine,” he replied. Without another word, you slipped past your mother who greeted Yeosang before bidding him farewell and shutting the door. She rounded on you as you walked over to the kitchen to unload your haul.

“Do my eyes deceive me or have you been spending time with the youth minister?” she asked, approaching you as she wiped her hands on her apron. You glanced up, noticing her excited expression. “He just walked me home, mama,” you replied. “There was a commotion in the market today and he guided me around it and walked me to the door. That’s all.”

You bustled about, putting away jars and the bread you got from trading, your mother hot on your heels. “Is that who you’ve been sneaking out of the house to see late at night?”

You froze, hand in the bag of pastries as you were putting them away.

‘No,’ your mind said. ‘I’ve been seeing Hongjoong.’

The temptation to tell her the truth was strong but you knew if you did, your mother would never let you out of her sight again. But if she thought you were spending that time with Yeosang? She’d probably encourage it. ‘What’s one harmless lie?’

You turned to look at her, glancing around. “Is father home?” you asked softly, to which your mother shook her head, excitement building again. Taking a deep breath, you merely nodded. Your admission made your mother squeal with delight.

“Oh, he is a fine young man!” she exclaimed as you forced a smile and went about your chores, removing your cloak and grabbing an apron. “He is,” you simply replied, not wanting to feed too much into it. ‘And so is Hongjoong.’

You turned to look at your mother. “So, what can I help with?”

After finishing your chores for the day and preparing for a day of rest on Sunday, you headed out to the garden to bring in some fresh rosemary for your mother to add to dinner. You checked your stores of fungus but found you were running low.

“Oh, it’s alright,” your mother noted as you told her you were almost out of mushrooms. “We don’t have to add them this time.” You removed your apron and donned your cloak, fastening it as you headed for the door. “Nonsense,” you replied. “I know a spot close by where they grow. I’ll be back in a moment.”

You pulled open the door, stepping out into the cool air as the sun was beginning to set. You walked towards the forest, passing houses on your way. “Y/N!” a voice called. You turned to find Nicolas waving you over. You quickened your pace as he said something to one of his friends and made a beeline towards you.

You stifled a groan as he stopped you, blocking your path, grabbing your arm which you pulled back immediately. “Where are you off to so late?” he asked, that signature smirk on his face that made you want to smack it off. “None of your business, Nicolas,” you replied and tried to step around him.

Nicolas matched your movements, letting out a chuckle. “Come on, Y/N. Why do you always shut me out? All I want is to be friends,” he asked, taking a step forward, forcing you to take one back. “I don’t want to be friends with you, Nicolas,” you retorted, voice low and full of ire.

“Why not? I really like you, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re probably going to be my wife one day, so why fight it?” You let out a sound of disgust, pushing him aside and hurrying into the forest, taking one glance back before making your way through the woods on a path you knew well.

Your attempts to lose Nicolas were in vain as he followed you into the trees. “Come on back, Y/N! It’s not safe here at night!” You ignored him, continuing on your path to the small patch where your favorite mushrooms grew at the base of the pines.

Nicolas was hot on your trail as you reached the spot and started searching in the low light for a few good mushrooms. “You’re fast,” Nicolas noted as he stopped to lean against a tree, watching you forage. “What are you doing?”

“Foraging,” you snapped as you found a few mushrooms and started to carefully unearth them. “You really are a strange person,” Nicolas said as he walked over, crossing his arms and leaning against the tree you were currently knelt by.

“You know, this is quite a compromising position,” he said, a chuckle escaping him as you glanced up at him. “There’s nothing compromising about this,” you replied, turning away from him and continuing to collect the mushrooms.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he said. You felt his hand roughly grab your chin and turn your head to face him. “I know you like me,” he continued. “I know when a woman acts disgusted, it actually means she wants you.”

You jerked your head back, glaring up at him in the dying light of the sun. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “It doesn’t and I don’t know who taught you that but they’re wrong. When a woman acts disgusted it’s because she’s actually disgusted. You are rude, crass, and the last man on this green earth I would ever marry!”

Your voice echoed around the forest as your words set in. Nicolas let out a deep sigh. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around, I guess I’ll just have to force you,” he snapped. You tried to back away, getting to your feet clumsily as Nicolas made his move.

He forced you back down, kneeling as he grabbed your wrists and tried to force you to the dirt. “Let go of me!” you shouted as he managed to force you down onto the forest floor. You struggled against his hold as he rolled you onto your stomach, taking your hands behind your back as you kicked and tried to scream.

You felt his hand tug at the skirt of your dress, trying to force the hem up and you struggled harder, screaming insults and curses at him. He managed to keep your hands pinned as he started to loosen the ties of his trousers.

“Give in, Y/N, it’ll be more enjoyable,” he huffed.

You wriggled and writhed under him, trying to free your hands or wear him out enough to break free, coughing up dirt and dust as he resumed pulling your dress up. “Don’t touch me!” you growled. “My father will have your head on a pike, Nicolas!”

You heard him chuckled before there was a loud metallic thud and the weight on top of you dissipated. You looked over your shoulder to see a dark figure standing above you and a now unconscious Nicolas, holding a shovel. “Y/N?” a familiar voice asked, the figure moving to kneel beside you.

It was Hongjoong.

You pushed yourself up before collapsing into his arms as the shovel hit the ground. His arms went around you instinctively as you sobbed into his chest. “It’s all right, love, I’m here,” he said softly, stroking your back as you continued to cry.

“Here,” he continued, guiding you to your feet and helping brush the dirt off your dress. “What are you doing here?” he asked, taking your face in his hands. “I was just foraging for some mushrooms,” you said between sobs. Hongjoong clicked his tongue before pulling you in closer. “He f-followed me,” you continued.

Hongjoong glanced down at the unconscious form of Nicolas, his dislike of the man having grown tenfold. He could kill him but he wouldn’t. He would let the villagers decide what to do with him. “Come on, love,” Hongjoong said as he stooped down to pick up your small bag of mushrooms. “Let’s get you home.”

You shook your head. “I want to stay with you,” you objected but Hongjoong pressed a kiss to your forehead, calmly shushing you. “You need to go back home. I’ll walk you. I’ll explain to your parents what happened. I came across Nicolas trying to assault you and stopped him. With the state you’re in, they’ll have no choice but to believe me.”

You nodded slowly as Hongjoong carefully led the way out of the forest. The sun had almost set by the time you reached the village and very few people were still outside, those who were, eyed the two of you as you made your way to your house.

Upon reaching the door, it opened and the worried face of your father turned into confusion when he saw Hongjoong. “If I may explain?” he asked before your father could get a word in. Your father stood in the doorway, eyeing the man for a moment before relenting and letting the two of you in.

Your mother rushed over, gasping at the state of your dress and tear stained face. She guided you to sit down as your father rounded on Hongjoong. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“I know what this looks like but Y/N can vouch for the events. I was coming back from burying one of my goats in the forest when I heard screaming. I followed the sound and found your daughter being attacked,” Hongjoong explained.

“I rushed over and managed to incapacitate the man and immediately helped her up and brought her straight back here,” he continued. Your father turned from Hongjoong to look in your direction. You glanced up, eyes full of tears and nodded. “It’s true,” you added.

“Why were you in the forest alone?” your father asked.

“I went to get some mushrooms, to add to the stew,” you explained, to which Hongjoong handed the small cloth bag to your father. “Nicolas followed me into the forest after I told him to leave me be,” you continued, taking a deep breath.

“Nicolas?” your father asked, turning to look at you fully, brows furrowed in confusion. “Aye, Nicolas,” you heard Hongjoong reply. “He was the one attacking her.” Your father turned to look at Hongjoong. “Why would Nicolas attack her? What could he possibly want?” your father asked. Hongjoong fell silent, hoping the realization would come to your father.

“I asked you a question, boy,” your father snapped. Hongjoong sighed and glanced at you before addressing your father.

“He was trying to force himself on her,” he answered. “He had her pinned down and was trying to –” Hongjoong’s voice cracked. “Are you accusing him of trying to rape my daughter?” your father asked incredulously. “He’s not accusing him,” you interjected. “Nicolas tried to rape me. He pushed me down and tried to lift my skirt and –” your voice faltered as your mother pulled you into her embrace. “If it hadn’t been for Hongjoong, Nicolas would have succeeded.”

Your mother patted your head, shushing you gently as she rocked you. A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed softly. Your father turned to Hongjoong, running a hand over his face. “Where is Nicolas now?” he asked.

“In the forest as far as I know. I hit him with a shovel. He was out pretty good. Still breathing. Unless he came to, he should be right where I left him,” Hongjoong answered. Your father nodded before gesturing to the door. “I will need to go get some of the others but we will need you to show us where Nicolas is,” he continued as he led the way to the door.

You looked up as Hongjoong followed your father. He glanced back at you. “Thank you,” you called out. Hongjoong nodded and your heart ached, yearning to run to him and kiss him for saving you but in front of your parents, all you could do was express your gratitude through your words.

Your father opened the door and just like that, they were gone.

The next morning, you learned from your mother that Nicolas was indeed still where Hongjoong said he was and was still passed out. It took a few of the villagers to carry him through the forest back to the village and that your father had personally thanked Hongjoong for what he’d done.

You were unable to meet with Hongjoong that night and for the next week, your mother kept you inside and away from the forest. She ran your errands instead while you stayed inside. News of Nicolas’ transgression had spread throughout the village and by the middle of the week, the entire village knew what he had done and with the backing of your father’s testimony, Nicolas was to be punished accordingly.

His sentencing came almost a week after the incident. He was to receive fifty lashes, publicly, spend a day in the stock, and receive a brand on the back of his hand. Your father wanted you to attend the sentences being carried out but your mother advocated for you to stay home so you wouldn’t have to see Nicolas again.

Hongjoong’s name was kept out of it all and when your father recounted the tale to the ministers, he testified that you had walked home alone and that an unseen figure had knocked Nicolas out and ran.

It upset you that your father refused to speak a word on the good deed Hongjoong had done but if you said anything about Hongjoong, it could make the townfolk’s beliefs shift in favor of your assailant.

You were checking the pot hanging over the hearth, stirring the stew when you heard a knock at the door. Your parents were out, attending the public whipping so you were home alone. You wiped your hands on your apron and walked over to the door, cracking it open.

At the threshold was Yeosang, he turned quickly as the door opened and he looked relieved upon seeing you. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You opened the door further, hearing the crack of the whip and cries of pain in the distance.

Yeosang quickly entered the house, allowing you to shut the door and muffle the sounds of torture. Yeosang looked around before turning to look at you. “How are you?” he asked quickly. “I wanted to check on you as soon as I heard.”

You forced a smile. “I’m okay,” you replied softly. Yeosang closed the distance between you, gently lifting your face to look at him. “You don’t have to lie or put on a brave face around me, Y/N. What you went through… I can’t even imagine.”

You pulled back, turning to resume cooking. “It’s okay, really. Nicolas didn’t get far. He was knocked out cold before anything could really happen.”

Yeosang stepped forward cautiously. “Right,” he answered. “The unseen figure in the forest.”

You picked up the spoon and stirred the pot, hoping to distract yourself with cooking. “Your father said you didn’t see who it was but I have a suspicion,” Yeosang said softly, stopping just behind you. “It was Hongjoong, wasn’t it?”

You turned quickly to look up at him. “Please, don’t bring this up. I don’t want to cause any more trouble!” Yeosang held up a hand to calm you before he placed that same hand on your shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he whispered.

“And you aren’t causing problems. Nicolas made his choices. You did nothing wrong. He has to face the consequences of his actions. Whatever you may think or may have heard, you are not to blame in any of this.”

You nodded slowly as he retracted his hand. “I merely wanted to check on you,” he added, making his way over to the door. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” You watched as he reached for the door. “Why?” you asked suddenly, catching him off guard.

Yeosang turned to look at you. “Why what?” he asked, seeking clarification.

“Why did you want to make sure I’m all right?” you asked again. Yeosang studied your face for a moment before responding. “Because I care about you, Y/N. I care about you a great deal.”

He gave you a kind smile before bowing his head and opening the door, stepping out and shutting it behind him, leaving you to contemplate the meaning of his words. He cared about you? Did he care about you as a neighbor? As a pastor? Or as a man? Questions consumed your mind as you returned to the stew over the hearth while you pondered.

After dinner that night, you sat in your room, dressed for bed as you stared at the same spot on the floor for what felt like hours. There was a soft knock on your door and you looked up in time to see your mother peer into your room. “Have you said your prayers?” she asked to which you nodded. A lie, but your mother didn’t need to know that. You had much more on your mind than praying.

Your mother entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to sit beside you. “I heard the young pastor came to visit you during Nic- the sentencing,” she said, stopping herself from saying the name. You nodded wordlessly. “He clearly cares a great deal about you,” your mother said, a hint of joy to her voice.

“Perhaps he will ask you to m–”

“I’m really tired, Mama,” you whispered, cutting her off. She fell silent before taking your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, my dear,” she said, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on the back. “Get some sleep. We have service in the morning.”

She got up and headed for the door, you watching as she opened it. “Mama,” you called out suddenly, making her turn to face you. “I love you,” you said, giving her a small smile. She returned the smile before replying. “I love you, too.”

As soon as the coast was clear, you headed out of the house. With things dying down after the incident with Nicolas, you felt you would be able to visit Hongjoong once again.

You had opted to keep your nightgown on, throwing your cloak over it and headed out of the house, keeping as quiet as possible as you snuck into the forest, following the path to Hongjoong’s place once more.

Upon arriving, you saw that the lights were out and wondered if maybe you should go back but you decided against it, your urge to see him stronger than the urge to let him rest.

He wouldn’t be mad at you for that, would he? He couldn’t.

As you reached the door, the goats were in their shed for the night and made no sound upon your approach, so you were able to actually knock on the door, softly at first.

Either Hongjoong was a light sleeper or he had just settled down for bed because you heard a light shuffling before a dim light emanated from the window. You heard the latch for the door slide and it opened a crack, the light of a candle peering out from the darkness before the door opened wider.

“Starlight?” Hongjoong asked as he realized it was you. “Did I wake you?” you asked softly as he checked the woods around the cabin. “No, no,” he answered before ushering you in. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

You turned as he set the candle down on the table and moved to light the fire in the hearth. “I just wanted to see you,” you explained as he set a few logs on the growing blaze. “It’s alright, Starlight,” he said with a chuckle.

You moved to kneel behind him as he stoked the fire, trying to get it to grow. He let out a small noise of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you whispered. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it up to kiss. “I missed you too, Starlight.” The two of you sat there in silence as the crackling of the fire filled the space. Finally Hongjoong started to turn and you released him.

“I haven’t been able to ask,” he said softly, cupping your cheek. “How are you doing?” he whispered, eyes searching your face. “I’m fine,” you answered. “I don’t want to talk about that,” you said softly.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that.” Hongjoong nodded as you got up and walked over to the table. He stood up, following your movements and taking your hand in his, bringing it up to press against his chest where you could feel his heartbeat.

“Then what do you want?” he asked gently, reaching his hand up to caress your cheek. You looked up at him, leaning into his touch before moving your hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Hongjoong fed into your touch, hands sliding to your waist and pulling you closer as his lips parted yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He tasted like strawberries and you pulled back to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned he’d done something wrong. “You taste like strawberries,” you said softly, eyes dipping to look at his lips. He chuckled before speaking. “I had some before bed,” he admitted.

You looked around. “Do you have any more?” you asked. Hongjoong shook his head. “I ate some of them, the rest I’ve started to pickle,” he explained, nodding towards a set of jars sitting on the mantle of the fireplace.

You pouted before looking back up at him. “I guess I’ll just have to kiss you some more,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. Hongjoong laughed into the kiss as your need grew, hands moving to pull at his shirt. Hongjoong stopped you, pulling back to look at your face.

“What are you doing, Starlight?” he asked, holding your hands still. You tried to pull free and continue. “I want more,” you simply said but he didn’t relent. “Want more what? Starlight, I need you to be absolutely certain you know what you’re asking for.”

You stopped struggling to look at him. “The incident with Nicolas made me realize that I don’t want anyone else, Hongjoong. I want you and only you,” you explained, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Hongjoong’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours.

“Are you absolutely sure, Starlight? Do you even know what you’re asking?” he asked softly as you reached up, caressing his cheek, tracing down to his lips. “I want you to make love to me, Hongjoong,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to make me yours, give me a baby, I don’t care. I just want you to claim me,” you added.

Hongjoong swallowed thickly before he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue slipping back into your mouth, stifling the moan that had been building up in your chest. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you carefully back towards his bed.

“On the bed, sweetheart,” he said softly. You did as he asked, undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Hongjoong dropped to his knees, starting to undo your boots and pull them off one by one. He looked up at you, his hands sliding up your legs, pushing your nightgown up to your knees.

“Lie back for me,” he instructed. You did as he asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. Hongjoong guided you back onto the bed until you were in the middle, climbing over you.

“What’re you–” you started to ask but he simply shushed you, his hand moving from your lips and sliding down to your chest. His hand ghosted over your chest, sliding further still, past your stomach until he reached your most private area. He carefully and without breaking eye contact, pulled the hem of your nightgown up.

“I want you to do something for me,” he said softly, licking his lips. You nodded silently, looking up at him. “I want you to touch yourself,” he said, taking your hand and guiding it under your nightgown.

Your cheeks burned under his gaze. “T-touch myself?” you asked softly. Hongjoong nodded.

You thought back to when you’d attempted to touch yourself but had grown both ashamed and frustrated at your inability to make yourself feel good. You nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with him. “And how did it feel?” he asked, keeping your hands in place. “It was… fine,” you answered, cheeks burning as one of his brows rose questioningly. “Fine?” he asked. “Just fine?”

You nodded. “I don’t think I did it right,” you blurted out, your eyes widening at your own admittance. Hongjoong’s lips threatened to curl into a smile but instead he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes from yours for a moment as he glanced down to where both of your hands disappeared under your dress.

“Show me.”

You nearly choked on your own breath at his command.

“S-show you?” you asked. “Show you what?” Hongjoong leaned in, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Show me how you touch yourself, pet,” he replied softly, his breath hot against your ear. “Show me so I can teach you how to make yourself feel good.”

You glanced up at Hongjoong who was tracing your features with his eyes before meeting your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “I… I want this I’m just…” you trailed off. “I’ve never…”

Hongjoong smiled, taking your face in his hand and turning you to look at him. “I know, sweetheart,” he replied. “That’s why I’m taking this slow.” You nodded slowly and cleared your throat, licking your lips. “I don’t know how to start. Should I just–?” you turned to look at Hongjoong but your words were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours.

You moaned into the kiss as he pressed your fingers into yourself, finding the wetness between your thighs. Hongjoong groaned against your lips as he guided your fingers, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You gasped as he guided your fingers to circle the nub, his lips parting yours as his tongue explored your mouth. This was nothing new to you. Hongjoong had kissed you like this plenty of times before but him guiding your hand beneath your skirt was definitely new.

“Go on, darling,” he mumbled against your lips. “Show me how you touch yourself.” You whimpered as your fingers pressed against yourself clumsily. Hongjoong removed his hand, taking your chin in his fingers and pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

An urgency took over, his tongue slipping back into your mouth and dancing against your own as your fingers tried to massage and stroke yourself but it was no use. You weren’t sure what you were doing. It was messy and clumsy and you whined against Hongjoong who pulled back, to meet your gaze. His hand joined yours, fingers guiding yours as he pressed against the bundle of nerves again.

The moment it made contact, your mind went blank. “Feel that?” he whispered as your eyes slid shut. “That’s where you wanna touch,” he continued, guiding your fingers in a circle. “And this,” he added, moving your hand further down, pressing your fingers against your slit. “Is where you can also touch but like this,” he continued, guiding your fingers and pressing the tip into your hole.

You let out a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Don’t worry,” he cooed. “We’ll take it slow.”

Hongjoong guided your fingers back up. “This is the clitoris,” he explained, showing you how to massage and circle the nub just enough to give you some pleasure. “Keep going, sweetheart,” he whispered as his hand moved from yours. You watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips, wetting them before his hand disappeared under your skirt.

“Spread your legs for me a little,” he urged, fingers finding your slit when you obeyed. “Good girl,” he cooed.

“This might be uncomfortable at first,” he explained. “But if we’re going to do this, I have to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” you asked, slowing your ministrations. Hongjoong nodded. “You wanted me to make love to you, right?” he asked to which you nodded. “Then I have to make sure to get you ready. If I don’t, it might hurt you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded as you looked up at him, cheeks burning and lips wet with both your spit. “Keep going,” he urged and you continued to move your fingers against yourself, letting out a soft whimper as it started to feel good.

You felt the tip of one of his fingers slowly enter your hole and you froze. Hongjoong’s hand stilled. “Don’t tense up, sweetheart. Just relax.” You nodded, trying to will your body to relax against the intrusion.

“Keep touching yourself,” he reminded you. “It’ll help relax you. Try speeding up a little.” 

You did as he instructed, letting out a small whimper as the friction increased, a heat starting to spread from the pit of your stomach to other parts of your body. Hongjoong continued to ease his finger inside you, keeping his eyes on your face as he did until he stopped. “Is… is it in?” you asked curiously. Hongjoong nodded. “How do you feel?” he asked. It wasn’t uncomfortable like Hongjoong mentioned. It was a foreign feeling. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“It feels… odd,” you answered. Hongjoong chuckled, carefully pulling his finger back until just the tip was in and before you could ask what he was doing, he moved his finger back inside you, setting a slow pace, pumping in and out of you. “Oh, that’s different,” you whimpered. You felt him curl his finger and you let out a moan at the sensation of his finger rubbing against a soft spongy spot inside you.

“Does that feel good?” he asked softly as he continued to move his finger. You nodded, unable to speak, only whimpering and whining as he continued. After a few moments of this, he pulled his finger back and leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss. You squealed into the kiss when you felt his finger reenter you this time with a second one.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as his hand stilled. “I have to stretch you if I’m going to fit,” he continued. “If what’s going to fit?” you asked, breathing heavily. Hongjoong removed his hand from between your legs, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his groin. “You wanted me to make love to you, Starlight,” he replied.

You felt your walls contract around nothing as your hand met something hard. “But for this to be able to fit, I have to do this,” he continued, his hand returning to the space between your thighs, fingers slipping back inside you easily. You let out a moan as his fingers sank into your heat.

“Here,” he muttered, gently nudging your thighs apart. “Spread your legs a little more for me.”

You did as he asked, letting out a moan as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you. The slight sting was quickly replaced with a dull ache which subsided into pleasure not long after. You felt his fingers move, attempting to stretch your walls more. “No matter what, this might hurt,” he continued as he curled his fingers against the spongy spot that had your back arching off the mattress, a whimper leaving your lips as a tension wound tightly in the pit of your belly.

“But I promise I’ll be gentle,” he added.

You let out a whimper, turning your head to bury your face in his chest, making him chuckle as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched you writhe under him. “S-so good,” you whined, fingers digging into the linens of his bed. “Yeah? Feels good?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I can do better than that.”

His fingers moved faster, the coil in your body winding tighter and tighter as the pressure built. You let out a gasp as you felt cool air against your naked lower half. Hongjoong had shifted, positioning himself between your legs as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. 

He gave you a mischievous smirk before lowering his gaze, his lips parted, tongue slipping out to wet his lips before you felt his tongue against the bundle of nerves you’d been working earlier but completely lost interest in when Hongjoong’s fingers entered you.

You let out a loud moan, falling back against the bed as his tongue flicked against you expertly, teasing, rolling, and licking against you as his fingers moved in tandem. The coil that had been winding inside you finally broke, the tension in your body finally reaching a breaking point as a rush of heat and wave of pleasure washed over you, spreading from your stomach to the tips of your fingers and toes as you let out a moan, your legs shaking.

Hongjoong continued to lap at the sensitive nub before finally pulling back, his fingers also slipping out of your hole. You raised yourself up, propping up on your elbows as he appeared, cleaning his fingers. The sight alone had a fresh wave of want coursing through your body.

You grabbed the front of his tunic, pulling him into a passionate kiss which surprised not only him but yourself. Hongjoong chuckled as he broke the kiss and pulled you up into a sitting position. 

“Let’s get this off you,” he said softly tugging at your nightgown. “But then I’ll be naked,” you replied. Hongjoong chuckled as his hands worked to gather the material. “That’s the idea, love,” he answered. “But you’re still dressed,” you continued. 

“Shouldn’t we both be naked?”

Hongjoong chuckled and sat back, looking down at you with the skirt of your nightgown in his hands before he reluctantly let go of it, instead grabbing the back of the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, discarding it quickly on the floor with your cloak and boots.

You’d never seen him without a shirt on before so this was entirely new to you. Before he could continue, you sat up and moved your hand to rest against his chest, feeling his heart thump under your splayed fingers. Your hand moved up past his collar to his shoulder before moving down to his bicep, squeezing gently as your hand explored. Hongjoong tried to push you onto your back but you took control instead, forcing him back and climbing onto him.

Your boldness took him by surprise as you straddled his hips, resting your hands against his chest as you continued to explore with your fingers. Your hands wandered lower and lower, stopping by the ties of his trousers. You looked up to meet his gaze, finding his eyes already watching you.

“Go ahead,” he said softly. You lowered your eyes, hands moving to the ties and undoing them with shaky fingers. Hongjoong waited as you took your time, undoing the ties to his pants before looking back up at him briefly. You scooted back, pulling his pants as you did.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but seeing him completely nude for the first time wasn’t as intimidating or daunting as you were expecting. Your eyes scanned his lean body, taking in his toned abs and thighs. You’d never seen a man naked before so you were unfamiliar with what you were seeing. Hongjoong watched as you reached out carefully, gently placing your hand against his cock as it rested against his stomach.

It was hot against your hand and smooth on the underside. There were a few veins that ran up the sides towards the head, which was darker than the rest. It felt hard and firm in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around it apprehensively. Hongjoong let out a hiss and you started to retract your hand but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. 

“Don’t,” he said softly. “It feels good, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly before lowering your eyes to his length. You wrapped your fingers around it with renewed confidence and gently moved your hand up towards the tip before back down. Hongjoong let out a groan, head falling back against the bed as you moved experimentally.

Before he could say anything you leaned over, giving the tip of his cock a shy lick. The moment of your wet tongue made contact, Hongjoong let out a growl, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off him before he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. 

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked out but he shook his head. “Don’t be,” he replied. “I had to stop you. If I didn’t I might have done something that wouldn’t feel good for you. I don’t want to do that for your first time.” You nodded quickly as his hands moved to your waist before starting to gather your chemise in his hands. He finally managed to slide the fabric up and remove it entirely, letting it fall to the side and leaving you completely bare before him.

His eyes scanned your body, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured as his hands moved to your knees, pushing your legs apart as he leaned forward. “So, so beautiful,” he continued, pressing a short kiss to your lips before his kisses continued down the side of your neck and to your chest. You let out a gasp as you felt his wet tongue against your nipple, letting out a whine as he suckled softly, his hand moving up to knead your other breast as he flicked his tongue over the pert bud in his mouth.

He let it fall, pressing kisses across your chest before repeating the same motions, swirling his tongue around your nipple and taking it gently into his mouth. You could feel the tip of his cock prod firmly at your thigh, eager to be buried inside you. It was hot and pulsated.

“Hongjoong,” you whimpered, one of your hands moving to comb through his hair as he let your nipple fall from his lips. “Yes, kitten?” he asked softly, looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you going to fuck me?” you asked, uncertain where the confidence came from. Hongjoong drew level with you, taking your chin in his hand firmly.

“Where did you learn such filthy language?” he asked. You let out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press against your slit. “And no,” he answered. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He reached between your bodies, taking his length firmly in his grasp and guiding the head to your slit.

“I’m going to make love to you,” he continued, pressing into you, the head of his cock slipping into you without much restraint. “Because you’re mine, starlight. You’re mine and I’m yours,” he added as he slid into you, slowly stretching your walls. It stung only a little as he bottomed out, stilling as he allowed your body to adjust to the intrusion which was significantly more than two of his fingers.

“H-Hongjoong,” you whimpered as your walls contracted rhythmically around his cock. “Yes, my love?” he murmured in your ear, his hot breath hitting your neck. “I’m okay,” you said softly. “You can move.” Hongjoong pressed a few kisses to your neck, ignoring the thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover both of your bodies.

He pulled back slowly, keeping his eyes on your face for any sign of discomfort. He gave you a shallow tentative thrust, his cock filling your walls quickly. The motion had you gasping but you waved him on. It wasn’t painful, just an entirely new experience. Hongjoong set a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully so as not to hurt you.

“Hongjoong,” you whined. “Please don’t hold back. I’m okay,” you encouraged him. He shook his head. “You really don’t want that, sweetheart,” he warned you. “If I don’t hold back, I might hurt you.” You reached up, cupping his cheek. “I want to experience everything you can give me, please, Hongjoong,” you pleaded.

“Please give me everything. Don’t hold back.”

Hongjoong let out a groan, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice muffled. You nodded, your fingers curling into his hair. “Make love to me the only way you know how.”

Hongjoong let out a huff, one of his hands moving to the back of your thigh and pushing it forward against your side, allowing him to sink further into you. You let out a gasp and the new angle and before he really let go, he nuzzled your nose with his. “Hold onto me,” he instructed. You did as he said, wrapping one arm around his neck.

Once he was certain you were secure, he didn’t hold back, his hips thrusting into you hard, making you cry out from the intensity. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the cabin, drowned out only by your moans and cries of pleasure as he slammed into you, pounding you into the mattress below.

“Oh, g– oh yes. F-feels so good,” you whimpered as his cock hit against the spot that had you seeing stars earlier. “Yeah? You like it? Like it when I fill this sweet little cunt?” he asked in a growl. Your walls fluttered around him, attempting to suck him in and keep him buried inside your warm walls forever.

“Look at your greedy little hole. Trying to suck me in. You want me to bury my cock inside you and never leave, huh?” he asked. You’d never heard such filthy language before but when Hongjoong said it, it only increased the pleasure you were feeling. “Yes,” you gasped. “I love it! I want it all the time!”

Hongjoong let out a low laugh, almost a scoff as he continued to fuck into you, his hips hitting yours. “Such a good girl, letting me fuck her like this in my bed. I wanted to take it slow and make love to you all night but you were just so impatient. Needed me to fuck you like a bitch in heat. Isn’t that right?”

You let out a wanton moan at his words. “Yes. I am!” you cried out.

“What are you?” Hongjoong asked, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared the edge. “I’m a bitch in heat. I’m your bitch in heat!” you answered. Hongjoong let out a low groan, his hips stilling as he pulled out of you quickly. You barely had time to register what was happening before he had you on your stomach, legs spread, back end propped up as he re-entered you and slammed into you roughly.

You cried into the sheets as he fucked into you harshly, hips slapping against your ass as he burried his cock deep inside you with every thrust. “You’re my bitch? Letting me fuck you like this. I bet you’ll let me fill you up too, right? You gonna let me breed you, darling? Fill you with my seed?” You whimpered into the sheets, unable to speak. You felt Hongjoong’s hand around the front of your throat as he pulled your head up.

“Let me hear you say it. Say you want me to fill you up and breed you,” he repeated. “Say it.”

“P-please Hongjoong,” you gasped. “F-fill me up. Breed me like a bitch in heat. Fill me with your seed-!”

You let out a gasp as you felt Hongjoong’s teeth sink into your shoulder as he came with a groan, burying his cock as deep as he could as his release spilled inside your walls, coating it and filling every crevice with each pump.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he pushed your chest against the bed. “Take all of it,” he growled, giving you a thrust. “Be a good girl and take all of it.”

You tried to catch your breath as you both came down from your respective highs. Soon, Hongjoong was pulling out of you and the next few minutes were a blur of him cleaning your skin with a damp cloth, whispering sweet praise in your ear about how well you did and how much he loved you.

Once you managed to calm yourself and regain your breathing, you lay in his bed, covers pulled up as you lay on your side, looking at Hongjoong who stared back at you. “You really are the most beautiful person I think I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, reaching out to caress your cheek. “No prettier than you are,” you answered.

Hongjoong let out a shy chuckle before leaning in to kiss you. Your hands started to wander and he stopped you as you rolled him into his back. “Patience, love,” he said as you pressed kisses against his cheek and neck, kissing down to his collar before he stopped you. “The sun will be rising soon,” he said softly, caressing from your temple to your chin and back, cupping your cheek.

“As much as I would love for you to stay and wake up to this beautiful face in the morning, your parents will not be pleased if they find your bed empty.” You sighed sadly, dropping your head onto his chest. “I don’t want to go back…” you whispered. Hongjoong sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. “I know, love,” he said, lifting your head to look at him.

“But give it a few more months. Let me save up so we can leave this place together. We can find a place to settle down. Maybe near the sea. We can start a life together.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Okay,” you answered finally, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said as he helped you up.

Once your clothes were back on, he quickly and carefully led you out of the cabin and towards the village, stopping at the edge of the forest. He pulled you towards him, hidden behind one of the large trees. “What are you–” he cut you off with a kiss, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. Breaking the kiss, you looked up into his eyes before taking a deep breath. “I love you,” you whispered. He took your face in his hands. “You mean it, Starlight?” he asked softly.

You nodded, looking up at him, his face partially illuminated by the light of the moon. “Do you love me?” you asked, not caring how naive you sounded. Hongjoong’s lips curved into a smile. “I love you more than the stars love the moon,” he answered. “I love you more than the moon loves the night. You’re my everything,” he continued.

“I meant it earlier when I said give me time to save up so we can leave this place together. I want a life with you,” he added. “I want to marry you, give you a home, and children. I want our happily ever after. I just need time.”

You nodded, trusting him entirely. “I understand. Just a few months and then we can go. Run away and leave this place behind.” Hongjoong pulled you into a kiss. “You need to go before your parents discover you gone,” he said when he pulled back. “Can I come see you tonight?” you asked softly. Hongjoong shook his head, chuckling. “So eager to see me again? Get your chores done, Starlight. Come see me in a few days.”

You nodded, starting to part before rushing back and kissing him again. Hongjoong chuckled softly, pushing you gently in the direction of your house. “Go, my love. Don’t get caught!” he whispered and you reluctantly left him behind and snuck out of the tree line, making a break for your house.

You managed to sneak back to the window you’d used to leave earlier. Once you were back in your room and in bed, you lay awake, reliving the moments of the night. The way Hongjoong touched you, kissed you, and made love to you. You knew that you would never want to be with another soul. Hongjoong was the one.

—————————————————————

Your parents didn’t confront you about your nightly escapade and so you felt as though you might be in the clear. A week passed by during which you continued to sneak out to see Hongjoong. As your love deepened, so did the sexual relationship between you. The second time you found yourselves in his bed, he was much gentler than he had been that first time, wanting to make it up to you though he had nothing to make up for.

Things in the village hadn’t changed much. Folks crops were still going bad before the harvest, livestock was getting sick and dying but your time with Hongjoong just strengthened the claim he was not to blame. How could he when he spent most of his days either tending to his garden, foraging, or hunting?

On the rare occasion that you were allowed to leave the village during the day, you joined him in the forest to forage. He showed you where to collect berries that were safe to eat and sweeter than anything you’d eaten before. He also helped you gather different herbs for cooking but also for healing, showing you how to prepare them into pastes and balms.

Hongjoong had so much knowledge to give and you were eager to learn, something he always appreciated.

You had spent a better part of the afternoon in the forest with Hongjoong and after stealing a few kisses, he sent you on your way back to the village so you wouldn’t get into trouble for being out too long. Upon returning home, you saw your father was not there but your mother was.

She greeted you as you entered, basket in hand. “What’s that?” she asked as you set the basket down and removed your hood. “Berries and a few herbs from the forest,” you said simply as you uncovered your fruits of labor. Your mother walked over to inspect the haul and watched as you picked up a berry and held it up for her.

“It’s sweet, go on, try it,” you encouraged. Your mother took the berry apprehensively and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before her eyes widened in shock. “Those are so sweet,” she noted as you smiled widely and started to pull out the herbs to dry.

“Where did you find those?” your mother asked as you moved about the kitchen. “There’s a small clearing not far where the berries grow on bushes in a huge cluster,” you explained. “They’re good for eating and for making jams or pies,” you explained. Your mother watched you before she spoke up.

“And where did you learn this from?” she asked, making you hesitate. Your entire village was aware of Hongjoong’s existence but you weren’t sure if your mother put any stock into what the villagers were saying about him. “A friend,” you said softly, hoping she would drop it.

“A friend?” she asked and you merely nodded as you started to collect the berries in a jar. “Would this friend happen to be the man who lives in the woods?” You froze, setting the jar down to avoid dropping it. “And if it is?” you asked quietly as your mother approached.

“That man is not to be trusted,” your mother started, taking your arm gently but you pulled back, looking at her. “Says who?” you asked, a surge of confidence coursing through you. “Because he is a witch,” your mother answered, looking indignant at your sudden rebellious nature.

“They only call him that because he was raised differently than we were,” you retorted. “Hongjoong is not a bad person, Mother,” you explained. “He just knows more about the forest and natural medicine. That doesn’t make him a witch!” Your mother shook her head. 

“He’s a witch, Y/N,” your mother repeated. “He consorts with demons and devils in the dark of night!”

You shook your head this time. “No he doesn’t, Mother! He doesn’t even believe in demons. He’s just a man who lives a little differently than we do. He’s not evil, he doesn’t make pacts with devils in the dead of night. He studies the stars,” you continued to explain.

Your mother looked absolutely horrified. “Has he been teaching you this devil work?” she demanded and you sighed. “No, Ma,” you answered. “It’s not the devil's work. It’s just the stars. The ancient Greeks and Romans studied the stars and their movements, they weren’t branded as heretics so why is Hongjoong being branded as one?”

Your mother opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a knock at the door. Your mother threw one last look of concern your way before moving to answer the door. You peered over her shoulder from where you stood to find the visitor on your doorstep was none other than Yeosang.

“Oh, hello Pastor,” your mother greeted. Yeosang smiled warmly at your mother. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I was wondering if I might borrow Miss Y/N for a moment? I have something to discuss with her. It won’t take too much of her time and she’ll be back to her errands as soon as I’m done.” Your mother turned to look at you and nodded.

“The pastor would like to see you, Y/N,” your mother said, making her way back over and taking the jar of berries. “Best go see what he wants. I’ll finish this,” she said as she nudged you gently. You wiped your hands on the cloth and headed for the door where Yeosang stood.

You followed him out of the house, shutting the door behind you as you walked. “Has something happened?” you asked as he led you away from the prying eyes. “No, nothing like that,” he answered, walking out of sight of the market with you following.

“Yeosang, what is–”

“You need to be more careful, Y/N,” he said suddenly, glancing around quickly before looking back at you. “What?” you asked softly. “You need to be more careful. Coming out of the forest at night, anyone could see you and who you’re with.”

Your eyes widened as it dawned on you what he was implying. “Y-you saw me?” you asked. Yeosang nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m not going to say anything, you know that, but you really need to be more mindful of the fact that anyone could have seen you. You’re lucky it was me and not someone like Jonas or Gideon.”

You nodded silently. “That would not bode well,” you said softly.

“No,” Yeosang answered. “It would not.”

You looked up at him. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For not saying anything.” Yeosang bowed his head. “You know,” you started as he walked you back to your door. “My mother thinks you are interested in me,” you continued. Yeosang looked at you, bewilderment on his face. “Does she?” he asked, fighting the urge to smile.

You nodded. “It’s really thanks to you that I’m not in more trouble. Mama thinks I’m sneaking out at night to see you.” Yeosang fought the urge to laugh. “Well, if it gives you your freedom,” he said as you stopped by the door. “Then I’m happy to help.”

You thanked him again and bid him farewell before heading back into the house, dodging your mother’s questions as you went about your chores.

The following Sunday morning the entire village gathered for Sunday service. You sat between your parents in the back, pretending to listen as Jonas droned on about sin and forgiveness. You often mentally clocked out of these services considering you didn’t really play into this particular branch of faith anymore. Not since meeting Hongjoong.

After Jonas said his bit, Yeosang got up and spoke about the importance of forgiveness but reminded everyone that forgiveness doesn’t come easily. He also added that forgiving someone isn’t for their benefit, it’s for oneself.

When service finally ended, you felt even more drained than you did before attending. As you filed out with your parents, Yeosang stopped you. “How are you holding up?” he asked, ignoring the looks from the other villagers, namely your parents.

“I uh… I’m fine,” you said softly, uncertain as to why he was checking in again, especially in such a public setting. You saw the look of confusion pass over your father’s face as he looked from you to Yeosang curiously but your mother managed to nudge him along.

Yeosang gently pulled you to the side where no one could hear before speaking. “I know we spoke yesterday but I wanted to offer if you ever want to talk to someone, I’m here for you. As a friend,” he continued. “Nothing more.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you,” you replied. “I appreciate it.”

You thanked him once more before joining your parents outside for the walk home. “What did he want?” your father asked, eyeing you suspiciously. “Nothing,” you answered. “He just wanted to check in. Make sure I’m okay.” 

Your father fell silent but your mother had a knowing smile on her face.

The rest of the day passed in a blur but without work to do, you felt extremely bored and restless. Getting up, you walked over to the door. “Where are you going?” your father asked loudly. “For a walk,” you replied, grabbing your cloak. “I can’t just sit around. I’m too restless,” you added as you fastened your cloak.

“Stay out of the forest!” your father called as you opened the door and stepped outside.

The village was mostly deserted, no doubt the villagers sitting inside their homes as your family had. You glanced in the direction of the forest but turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Your walk took you around the entire village before you returned home but you weren’t ready to go back inside and just sit so instead you walked towards the forest, stopping at the tree line to look up. The wind blew through the treetops that stretched towards the gray sky.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as the breeze swirled around you, a cold shiver running through your body. The calm was interrupted by a shrill scream and your eyes snapped open, turning your head in the direction of the sound. You looked around but saw no one, not even at the windows.

You heard another shrill scream and sighed, making your way in the direction of the sound. You crossed the village square, passing between two houses to the space behind. You heard a shuffling sound coming from one of the pens behind the house.

You glanced around before making your way over, stepping cautiously.

There was a loud piercing cry ringing out from one of the sheds behind the house closest to the forest. You walked over, leaning over to peer into the darkness of the small pig shed. As you drew closer, you stopped at the fencing.

There was a loud crunching sound and you glanced around once more before pushing open the gate, letting it shut behind you and making your way over to the shed. You took a deep breath and leaned over, peering into the small quarters.

What came into view was nothing short of horror. The pigs in the shed were all dead, slaughtered by some dark creature that sat in the corner munching on what you assumed was another dead pig. You watched in horror as it turned its head, red eyes glowing as it stared, its gaze burning into yours. Before you could scream, your eyes popped open and you sat upright, gasping as you looked around. 

You were in your bed, safe and sound. ‘A dream?’ you wondered as you glanced around. How long had you been asleep? When had you even gone to bed?

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and got up, walking over to the window that looked out over the back yard, darkness creeping into the space behind your house and between the trees. It was almost night time. You looked towards the sky and a voice came to your mind. Hongjoong’s voice.

‘The new moon is in two weeks. I have something I’d like to show you.’

“The new moon is tonight,” you whispered, scanning the sky. Without another word, you headed for the door, opening and making your way downstairs where your parents were just sitting down for dinner. “Oh,” your mother said, quickly standing up. “You’re awake. Let me get you a bowl.”

You walked over to the kitchen. “I can get it,” you said, urging her to sit down. “We weren’t sure if you were going to wake up,” your father said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Your mother walked over as you filled a bowl with stew from the pot. “Are you feeling well?” she asked, feeling your forehead. You nodded silently. 

“I was just tired after service. I’m fine, really.”

You moved to sit across from your father, setting your bowl down as your mother poured you a cup of cider. Once she was back in her seat, she reached for your hand, taking your fathers and bowed her head. You followed suit but kept your eyes open, staring at the table as your father said grace.

Dinner was a silent affair as you ate with only your mother occasionally asking your father questions. Once dinner ended, you helped clean up before excusing yourself to your room. You sat on your bed for a few minutes before changing into your nightgown. You were still planning on going out after your parents went to bed but you needed to play the part of going to bed. You’d just wear your cloak over your gown.

Before bed, your mother checked in on you once more and only after reassuring her you were okay, just tired, she finally left and went to bed. You waited until you heard them both snoring before you carefully grabbed your boots and snuck downstairs, grabbing your cloak and slipping your boots on.

You opened the door, grabbed one of the lanterns, and headed outside, pulling your cloak on and making your way around to the backside of your house and snuck through the shadows to the edge of the forest where you lit the lantern and kept the light low before making your way into the forest. You weren’t sure if Hongjoong was at the clearing so instead of making your way there, you headed for his cabin, carefully stepping over branches.

You followed the usual path to his cabin and noticed the light coming from the window.

You reached the gate, pushing it open and shutting it behind you so the goats didn’t get out. You were greeted by a chorus of bleating. As you reached the door, it opened and Hongjoong appeared, looking shocked as you reached the threshold, a smile on your face.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, stepping back to let you in. “It’s the night of the new moon,” you reminded him as you set your lantern down. “You said you had something you wanted to show me tonight.” Hongjoong’s confusion dissipated and he smiled. “The new moon was last night, Starlight,” he said, crossing the distance, taking your face in his hands before kissing you. You pouted into the kiss. “So you can’t show me?” you asked.

Hongjoong chuckled before moving to grab his coat. “I think I can still show you,” he replied. He grabbed your lantern and opened the door. “But we have to hurry,” he added. You grabbed the skirt of your gown and hurried out the door.

Hongjoong led the way, stopping to help you over the fallen trees and branches., offering his hand for the larger logs. After traversing the forest for some time, Hongjoong stopped, turned down the light on the lantern and set it on a tree trunk. “We’ll grab it on our way back,” he said softly, taking your hand and leading you into the clearing.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The clearing, which was void of moonlight, was full of thousands of what seemed to be glittering stars that danced and moved about. You turned to look at him. “What are they?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Fireflies,” he answered, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Thousands upon thousands of fireflies.” You reached a hand out as one of the lights floated towards you, a small insect landing on your palm.

“They’re beetles,” he explained. “They create the glow to attract mates.” You felt his hand on your stomach slide down slightly, his other hand resting on the side of your waist. “They glow and fly in a special way that attracts another for the sole purpose of mating.”

You felt his lips on your neck. “So they dance?” you asked softly. Hongjoong let out a chuckle, smiling against your skin. “Yes,” he answered. “They dance.” His hand slid lower and lower until you felt him start to pull the hem of your skirt higher.

“What’re you doing?” you murmured, giggling as his breath tickled your neck. He turned you to face him, cupping your face as he examined your features in the dark. “Loving you,” he said simply, closing the distance and kissing you.

You allowed him to guide you down to the ground, letting out a gasp as his hand slipped under your nightgown, finding your core with ease. You let out a whimper as he dragged his fingers through your folds, finding your clit with precision.

“Just lie back, Starlight,” Hongjoong whispered, drawing circles against the nub before dipping his finger down to your entrance. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” he whispered. His lips pressed against your as he slid his finger into your wet cunt.

You moaned against his lips, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. He set a steady rhythm, pumping his finger in and out of you before adding a second, gliding them both into your warm walls.

“I really would love to take you back to the cabin,” he murmured, pressing wet kisses against your cheek towards your ear. “But I’m not a patient man. I want you too bad right now.” You stifled a groan by biting your bottom lip as he curled his fingers, brushing against the soft spongy spot inside you.

“Th-that’s okay,” you managed to breathe out. “I don’t mind.”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “That’s my girl,” he replied, curling his fingers again, moving faster and bringing you closer to the brink of orgasm.

Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped, abruptly pulling his fingers from you. “Hongjoong, wha–” you started to ask but he pressed a hand over your mouth as he cleaned his fingers. “We’re not alone,” he whispered. “Stay here and stay quiet.”

You nodded as he got to his feet and started to walk a short distance away. You could hear twigs snapping underfoot but knew it wasn’t coming from Hongjoong. After a few moments of footsteps and twig snapping, you finally heard a voice speak. It was Yeosang.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I thought I might find you here,” he continued. “What do you want, Yeosang?” Hongjoong asked, cutting straight to the point. “I went to your cabin to find you but it was empty,” Yeosang started.

“I asked what you wanted Yeosang,” Hongjoong interrupted. You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn’t playing games. You heard Yeosang sigh from where you sat. “Look, I know you aren’t responsible for what’s going on in the village,” Yeosang started. “But you need to stop whatever spells you are doing. At least until this blows over. The villagers are getting restless. They think you’re cursing them.”

Hongjoong scoffed and you could hear him shift his weight. “I really couldn’t care enough about them to curse them, you know that, Yeosang,” he retorted. You could picture the look on Yeosang’s face. The kind smile he always bore.

“I know that,” he replied. “But they don’t. All I’m saying is you need to be careful. If not for my sake or your own, at least for Y/N,” he added. You couldn’t see Hongjoong in the darkness but you could imagine him tensing up.

“What do you know about my relationship with Y/N?” Hongjoong asked. “Only that you’re… friends,” Yeosang answered, using the same emphasis he had with you. “And I know she cares about you. I also care about you. Just… think about it, okay?”

Hongjoong said nothing but you were certain Yeosang didn’t need him to. “Have a good evening,” Yeosang said softly and then a moment later, you could hear his footsteps lead away from the clearing until you could no longer hear him over the sounds of the forest around you.

Moments later, Hongjoong return to you, kneeling down. “We should probably head back to the cabin,” he said softly. You pouted in the darkness. “I wanted to stay here,” you admitted. Hongjoong chuckled, taking your hands and helping you up. 

“So we can draw more attention like that?” he asked softly. “No,” he shook his head as he kept a hold of your hand and led you back towards the trees. “I’ll just be boring and make love to you in the safety of my cabin, in the comfort of my bed.”

You giggled as he led you back, grabbing the lantern as he passed the stump. “It would have been more romantic if we stayed in the clearing,” you mumbled as Hongjoong led the way back. “Another time, my love,” he said softly. “You promise?” you asked.

Hongjoong came to a stop, pulling you closer and taking hold of your chin, tilting your head back. “I promise,” he replied before kissing you. He took your hand and led you through the forest back to his cabin where you knew you’d be safe, warm, and where no one would bother you.

—————————————————————

Your sleep was interrupted the following morning by the sound of your mother opening your door. “Y/N,” she said sternly as you opened your eyes, sitting up and looking around wildly. Did you sleep too late? What was going on?

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you asked as she bustled about, grabbing your clothes. “Get dressed, hurry,” your mother said, setting your clothes on your bed before she exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

You dressed quickly, now aware of the sound of yelling coming from outside your house. You pulled your boots on and hurried down the stairs where your mother stood by the window next to the door, peering outside looking nervous. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, joining her and looking out the window. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “But something bad must have happened.” You watched as a crowd gathered and you could see the familiar outline of Yeosang. You darted for the door, ignoring your mother’s warning hisses of your name and opened it, stepping out into the misty morning.

Outside, you could hear the yelling much more clearly.

“Someone has killed my pig! Gutted her and took her head!”

You froze by the door as you listened to the clear voice of Gideon. 

“My poor Eliza opened the door and found the head sitting there, propped up like some kind of prank!” Just under his voice, you could hear a woman sobbing, no doubt Eliza from finding a decapitated pig head.

“It’s the devil’s work, I tell ya!” another voice said, one you recognized to be Josiah. “Witches!” a woman’s voice rang out. Your heart skipped a beat as more and more villagers chimed in, laying bare their own misfortunes.

“My vegetables have gone bad before even ripening! This isn’t normal!”

“Witches are responsible!”

“They must be!”

“I’ve lost two goats this month alone! Someone’s cursed the village for sure!”

“People please!” another voice rang out. This one you recognized to be Yeosang. “We don’t even know if this is witchcraft!” he continued, ignoring the cries of the villagers. “Hysteria will not help our situation!”

The crowd started to protest, a mixture of angry to panicked cries. The voice of Jonas rang out over the crowd. “Pastor Kang is right. Hysteria will not solve this! The church will conduct an investigation to determine if the source is indeed witchcraft.”

“Investigate the hermit in the woods! He’s probably the culprit!”

You felt anger surge through your body at the mention of Hongjoong. “He’s not a hermit!” another voice rang out. “I’ve seen him at the morning markets trading and selling furs and herbs!”

“He’s a witch!” one voice rang out and you recognized it to be Abel. “His mother was a witch! She probably passed it on to him!”

“Yeah! Witch!”

Your heart rate quickened as the villagers started to shout in the affirmative, calling Hongjoong a witch. Before you could even start towards the crowd. Yeosang spoke up again. “Let’s not point fingers until we know for certain!”

His words fell on deaf ears as more people started to shout. You watched Yeosang turn to Jonas, a pleading look on his face. Jonas finally spoke up. “That’s enough! We will conduct an investigation and if we find evidence of witchcraft, we will question this man but until then, everyone go about your business and leave this matter to the church!”

There was a subtle murmur throughout the crowd as it started to disperse, clearly placated enough to calm down. You watched as everyone went their separate ways until Yeosang appeared.

He met your gaze and immediately started walking in your direction. You glanced around as he approached and gently took your arm, guiding you away from sight before he turned to speak.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said softly. You nodded, watching him as he glanced around once more. “I need you to stay out of the forest,” he explained. You opened your mouth to protest but he held up a hand.

“Not forever,” he added. “I know you won’t stay away from Hongjoong that long. I just need you to stay out of the woods until the investigation concludes and we prove that it’s not witchcraft to be blamed. I really don’t want you getting mixed up in this mess. I know Hongjoong would agree with me,” he added when he noticed you were about to say something.

“Just for a few days,” he continued. “Please, Y/N.”

You sighed heavily and nodded. “Fine,” you answered. “But I still want to warn Hongjoong,” you said quickly. He contemplated for a moment before nodding. “All right,” he said. “I think that would be best.”

You turned to start back towards your house but turned back to face him, taking his hand in yours. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said before letting go and heading back home.

That night, you did exactly what you said you were going to do. Once night fell and your parents were asleep, you snuck out and made your way to Hongjoong’s cabin without stopping once.

Once you arrived, you shooed the goats out of your way and pounded on the door in quick succession. It only took Hongjoong a moment to reach the door and open it.

“Y/N, what the—” Hongjoong said as he opened the door, looking over your state.

“The villagers are blaming you for their crops,” you explained quickly. Hongjoong took a step back, allowing you inside before he glanced around outside and shut the door, turning to face you. “What’s going on with their crops?” he asked. “They’re going bad before harvest,” you replied.

Hongjoong shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “Have they never heard of pests?” he joked as he moved across the cottage to the hearth. “Hongjoong, this is serious!” you said as he started to bustle around. “Take a seat,” he said softly, ignoring your concerns.

“Hongjoong!” you exclaimed. “They think you’re a witch and that you’ve cursed them!”

Hongjoong sighed and turned to face you, a black cast iron kettle in his hand. “They’re going to think what they’re going to think, Starlight,” he replied. “These are uncertain times and people are guided by their fear,” he continued, moving to pour the contents of the kettle into two cups before returning the kettle to the fireplace.

You watched as he picked up both cups and moved to the table, setting them both down. “Have a seat, Y/N,” Hongjoong urged gently, sitting down. You finally relented and moved to sit adjacent to him. “I’ve spent my whole life with these allegations,” Hongjoong continued as you peered into the cup before you. “I’ve been called a witch all my life. This is nothing new,” he added, giving you a warm smile.

“It just scares me that they could retaliate wrongly and you could get hurt,” you said softly. “You mean a lot to me, Hongjoong, and the thought of losing you--” you trailed off, tears starting to form in your eyes. You heard wood against wood as Hongjoong shifted his chair to move closer before he took your hands in his. “I’m so thankful that you care about me so much, Starlight,” he said softly.

“But you needn’t worry,” he continued. “Besides, you know they’re right. I am a witch.” You looked up at him in time to catch a wink he sent your way. “But that hasn’t stopped you from being my friend. It hasn’t deterred you from spending time with me. You don’t think any differently of me.”

You shook your head. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, Hongjoong,” you said softly. “Even more so than my own community. I’ve never met someone like you.”

Hongjoong moved his chair directly across from yours, closing the distance between you. “And that’s all I could ever want. You’re the only person in that entire village whose opinion I care about. The others could continue to spread lies and as long as you don’t believe a word of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

You sighed, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just worried what they might do with the allegations. They might act on them, Hongjoong and if they did, I don’t know what they might do!”

Hongjoong set his mug down and took your chin in his fingers, tilting your head back to press a kiss to your lips. “You worry too much, Starlight,” he said softly once the kiss broke. “The village folk have been calling me a witch for years and nothing has come of it,” he continued. You shook your head.

“Yes, but this time, things are actually happening, Hongjoong! They have real reasons to try to blame you for this!” you said exasperatedly. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset about this. Hongjoong let out a sigh. “Alright,” he said softly. “Will it please you if I promise to be more careful and stay out of the village for a few days? Just until things blow over?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. All you wanted for him to be safe. Hongjoong wasn’t just your friend. You loved him. You wanted him to stay safe. “Drink your tea,” Hongjoong said softly, stroking your cheek before he picked up his mug and downed the rest of his and got up.

“I don’t want you to be caught out late again. You can only lie to your mother so many times,” he added as he moved to rinse out his mug. “It’s still kind of early,” you murmured. “I thought I might stay for a bit. I missed you.”

Hongjoong set his mug aside and walked over to where you sat, taking his seat again and leaning in. “You’re so cute,” he said softly, kissing your cheek before getting up and going about his nightly routine. “You can stay for a bit,” he said as you sipped your tea. “But as soon as that’s empty,” he continued, pointing at the mug. “You have to head home.”

You glanced down at the tea, now half empty. You set the mug down as Hongjoong added another log onto the fire. You got up, walking over to where he knelt and knelt behind him, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. Hongjoong took one of your hands in his and kissed the back of it. “I know, love,” he said softly as he pushed the log around to make sure it caught fire.

“But I don’t want you to get in trouble for sneaking out again. Last time you were caught, I didn’t get to see you for two weeks, remember that?” he asked, turning his head to look at you as you raised your head. “Even if it’s just in passing, I prefer seeing you outside the house, not locked up inside.”

You pouted which Hongjoong kissed away. “So go finish your tea and I’ll walk you back.”

You shook your head. “No,” you retorted, holding onto him tighter. Hongjoong chuckled as he set the fire poker aside and stood up, bringing you to a stand as well. “Be a good girl and drink your tea,” he repeated but again you shook your head. “No,” you replied. “I don’t want the tea.”

Hongjoong gently took your wrists as you wrestled him. “If you don’t want tea,” he said, amused at your attempts to fight him. “What do you want?” 

You hugged him tighter. “Just to stay with you a little longer.”

Hongjoong noticed the change in your voice and turned in your arms. “Starlight,” he started but you interrupted him. “Can’t we just run away, Joong?” you asked as he took your face in his hands. “We need time to prepare, sweetheart. I can’t just get up and leave in the middle of the night.”

“Why not?” you asked, pulling back. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave. It would be so easy. “Because of everything in here,” he answered, gesturing around. “Everything in this house is all I have. If we were to leave, we would need food, clothes, a cart, hell, possibly even money! Moving across the country isn’t easy!” he snapped, getting up and walking over to the table, placing his hands on the top and leaning against it.

He’d never lost his temper with you so you sat still, uncertain of what to do or say.

You knew moving wasn’t easy. You’d done it more than once.

“I know it’s not easy,” you said, your voice soft and meek.

You heard Hongjoong turn before you felt his hands take yours and guide you to stand. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I know you know what it’s like to move. To uproot your entire life and take all your possessions. I’ve never done that,” he continued. “I’ve never been away from this forest. I’ve lived here all my life.”

You said nothing, merely nodding along to his words.

He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” You leaned forward, hugging him and burying your face in his chest. His arms settled around you. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I know you’re looking out for me and I can’t express how much I appreciate it but I’ve survived worse than this. I’ll be okay,” he said, resting his cheek on your head. “And tell Yeosang thank you. I know he’s looking out for me as well.”

“He’s asked me to stay out of the woods for a few days while they investigate,” you blurted out. Hongjoong snorted and sighed. “I actually agree with him on that,” he replied, lifting his head as you looked up. “Of course, I’d love for you to come see me but I don’t want you getting mixed up in this either.”

You nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I told him I would but only if I came and warned you first,” you admitted. Hongjoong let out a laugh before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for coming to warn me, Starlight. I appreciate it.”

Despite wanting to spend the night with him one more time, Hongjoong managed to talk you into returning home and walked you to the edge of the forest where you spent far too long saying goodbye with kiss after kiss before finally returning home.

Over the next few days, you kept your promise, only going into the small patch behind your house to forage for mushrooms. The church conducted their investigation and while they did, the villagers grew even more restless, waiting for a result. More crops went bad, another pig was killed in the middle of the night and the villagers were at their breaking point.

You were inside, about a week since you spoke to Yeosang, helping your mother make bread when there was a knock at the door. Your mother moved to answer it and you heard the surprise in her voice. “Oh, Pastor Kang!”

You glanced up as your mother turned to look at you, Yeosang standing in the doorway. “Good ‘morrow, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said, his tone light and pleasant. “I was wondering if I might have a word with Miss Y/N.”

Your mother turned, waving you over. “I promise not to take up too much of her time,” he added as your mother passed you to return to the bread. “Take as much time as you need!” your mother called, making you stifle a laugh and step out of the house, shutting the door behind you.

“Come,” he said simply, beckoning you to follow him. You did as he asked, following him as villagers walked around, thankfully none of them paying any attention to you as you walked with the young pastor.

As you rounded the corner, Yeosang guided you behind the building, you turned to look at him and noticed he looked very nervous. You’d never seen him like that before and it made you nervous too. 

“Yeosang,” you started as he glanced around, making sure you were alone. “What is going o-”

“The villagers aren’t pleased, Y/N,” he stated plainly. “They’re convinced Hongjoong’s the root cause of the crop and livestock issue. They want his head.” Your stomach sank as Yeosang spoke quickly. “I was at a council meeting and despite my best efforts, they are set on punishing the person they think is the culprit,” he continued.

Your heart raced, palms growing sweaty as you grasped for a solution in your mind. “W-why are you telling me all of this?” you blurted out. Yeosang reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know you have a special connection with him. He’ll listen to you,” he answered.

“You need to warn him. Maybe it can buy him enough time to gather enough supplies to leave before something terrible happens.” Your heart sank into your stomach. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘It’s too soon.’

You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you answered firmly. Yeosang stared at you. “His life is in imminent danger. He must leave,” he explained. You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you repeated. “Not without me.”

Yeosang stared at you wordlessly as the implications of your words sank in. “I see,” he finally said softly. You looked up at him. There was a look on his face you couldn’t place but he quickly changed expressions before speaking again. “Could you be ready to leave tomorrow night?” he asked softly.

You stared up at him, eyes wide. “What?” you whispered. Yeosang glanced over his shoulder as he heard footsteps and children laughing. He gently grabbed your arm and moved you around to the other side of the shed where you would stay hidden. 

“Can you be ready to leave with him tomorrow?” he asked again. “I don’t know when the villagers are going to put their plan into action but it should be at least one more night before they go after him. If you can both be ready to leave tomorrow, I can sneak you out of the village and then the two of you can continue on.”

You stared at him in awe. He was going to help you? Help Hongjoong? “You would do that?” you asked quietly. “You’d help us leave?” Yeosang nodded. “I know Hongjoong isn’t responsible for these misfortunes. It’s someone else, I just don’t know who,” he answered. “And if Hongjoong won’t leave without you, then I’ll make sure he leaves with you.”

You felt your chest tightened, tears threatening to spill as the urge to hug or even kiss the man before you took hold but you resisted it. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said softly, taking his hand. “Don’t thank me until you’ve spoken to Hongjoong,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Speak to Hongjoong and then come find me tomorrow morning after the services,” he added.

You nodded and thanked him again.

The walk back was short and you thanked him once more as you entered your home, head swimming as you tried to make sense of everything. Your mother came into view, curiosity filling her features. “Well?” she asked expectantly. “What did the pastor want?” You forced a smile but before you could answer, the front door opened and your father entered the house.

“Oh, father,” you said as he shut the door and turned to face the two of you. “Y/N,” he said simply. “Go to your room,” he continued. “I must speak with your mother.” You knew by the tone of his voice he was not in the mood to be trifled with and so you nodded, thankful for his interruption and made your way to the stairs. Once in your room, you sat against the wall by your door and very carefully opened it, allowing the sound from downstairs to carry.

“There’s nothing to be done,” you heard your father say, his voice full of exhaustion. “The villagers have made up their minds. They want his head.” It didn’t take you long to work out that your father was talking about Hongjoong. “They think he’s the cause of their misfortunes and I’m inclined to believe them. He’s a witch and has made some kind of pact to ruin our village. Several of the town girls have claimed to have been approached by him. What he asks of them I dare not repeat. He’s a disgusting, vile, and wicked creature and he must face the consequences of his actions.”

Silence fell downstairs before your mother spoke. “Y/N speaks highly of him,” she said simply. Another beat of silence followed before your father answered. “And what does she know? She’s but a mere lamb. She doesn’t know his true nature. Or perhaps he’s bewitched her just as he’s ensnared the others. Either way, he must be dealt with.”

“Will they kill him?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, waiting for your father’s response.

“Aye,” he answered and you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. ‘They’re going to kill Hongjoong?!’

You scrambled up as quietly as you could as you heard shuffling. “I will speak to her,” you heard your father say, followed by the sound of his heavy footsteps heading for the stairs. You shut your door carefully and moved to sit on your bed by the window, looking out at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.

There were a series of soft knocks at your door. You turned your head as your door opened, your father peering in. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You nodded silently as he entered and shut the door. He walked over and took a seat beside you, silence falling over the two of you.

“I know you have a fondness for the hermit in the woods,” he started. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, fingers curling into a fist on your thigh. 

“What?” your father asked, turning his head to look in your direction. 

“His name is Hongjoong,” you replied, finally looking up at him. “And he’s not a witch.”

Your father sighed. “I don’t know what he’s been filling your head with,” he started. “But that man is not like us.” You stood up quickly, putting space between you and your father. “He was just raised differently!” you retorted. “He’s a good man! He keeps to himself, doesn’t cause problems, works hard, and just because he doesn’t conform to your standard of living, he must be a witch, right?” you continued, your voice raising.

Your father looked taken aback. You’d never raised your voice at your parents before. “There have been witnesses,” your father finally said, getting to his feet. “Young women who say he approached them, attempted to seduce them,” he continued. “Liars. They’re lying! Hongjoong would never!” you yelled, heat spreading from your face to your chest. You were seething.

“You’re all quick to pin the blame for your misfortunes on someone who you view as an outsider instead of looking inside yourselves and wondering if maybe the problem is your own. One you’ve created. Hongjoong has done nothing wrong! He doesn’t care about the villagers. He doesn’t care whether the village is prosperous or not. He keeps to himself because he knows no one will come to his defense,” you continued.

Your father listened as you unloaded on him. “Well I will advocate for him! Hongjoong is a kind, intelligent, and resourceful man. His soul is pure and he cares about the forest and the animals and plants inside it. He could care about you too if you’d let him. He doesn’t care if we prosper or fail. He cares about the true nature of the soul.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. “You speak as if you truly know him,” he started. You hesitated. “I do know him. I love him,” you blurted out. Your father’s confusion was replaced with anger. “Love?” he scoffed. “What do you know about love?”

You glared at him. “I know love because Hongjoong has shown me what true love is. He loves me, father. That is how I know those women are lying. He loves me and only me.”

Your father shook his head. “Has he poisoned you? Filled your head with his nonsense?” he asked before his eyes widened. “Has he put his filthy hands on my daughter?” he asked, his voice rising in volume. “He’s only shown me love and what it means to love someone as deeply as we love each other.”

You watched as your father’s ire only grew. “He dared to put his hands on my child?!” He turned, starting for the door but you stepped forward.

“I’m not a child!” you shouted. Your father turned to look at you. “I am not a child,” you repeated. “I am a woman and I’m Hongjoong’s lover. The only one he has.”

Your words hung in the air as your father stared at you. He crossed the distance and before you could register what was happening, he struck you across the face, a stinging gracing your cheek just under your eye from where he hit you. It was an almost blinding pain and you brought your hand up quickly to cover the spot, tears welling up in your eyes. “Be quiet, whore,” your father hissed.

“He will pay for his crimes and then you will face punishment for your sins,” your father snapped, boots pounding the wooden floor as he crossed the room and exited, slamming the door behind him. You tried to follow but your attempts to open the door were met with nothing.

The door had been barred from the outside. You slammed your fists against the wood, screaming to be let out. You tried again to open the door but to no avail. You turned to look at the window, the gray clouds had rolled in, darkness starting to settle in. You had to get out. You had to warn Hongjoong.

You moved to the window, opening it and looking outside to find the space behind your house vacant. You looked around for something to help you climb out seeing as it was a long fall down. Your eyes landed on the bed and you moved quickly, tearing the linens from the mattress. You grabbed a blade from your sewing kit and nicked the material before starting to tear it apart into strips, working quickly. 

Once you were certain you had enough, you started to tie them together, making the knots secure before tying one end to the leg of your bed and throwing the rest of your makeshift rope out the window. It reached almost to the ground and you carefully started to climb out the window.

The climb down was clumsy but you managed to get to the ground without making too much sound or drawing the attention of your parents. Once on flat ground, you pulled your hood up and took off, making for the forest, ducking behind homes and other buildings until you reached the tree line. As soon as you were in the cover of the forest, you ran, holding your skirts in your hand as to not trip over them as you leapt over branches and stones.

Your lungs burned and your heart pounded but you didn’t dare stop until you saw Hongjoong’s cabin come into view. Smoke rose from the chimney and light emanated from the windows as you approached, pushing open the wooden gate and hurrying past his garden and the goats that bleated at you.

You reached the door, breathless, and raised a fist, beating erratically at the wood. There was a shuffling from inside before the door opened and Hongjoong looked at you, amused until you stepped forward and collapsed. He managed to catch you before you hit the floor and his amusement turned to concern as he helped you inside, shutting the door.

“What on earth is going on?” he asked as he guided you over to the table, helping you sit down. “They villagers!” you gasped, grabbing his hand as he turned to start making tea. “They want your head. They’re still blaming you for their misfortunes!” Hongjoong scoffed, starting to pull from your grasp.

“This again, Y/N? We just talked about this, I don’t care what they-”

“Damn it, Hongjoong, they’re going to kill you!” you shouted.

He froze, kettle in his hands as he stared at you. “They’ve made up their minds. Yeosang told me to warn you!” you continued, trying to get up but Hongjoong moved over, setting the kettle down and kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands in his. “And you’re certain?” he asked, looking up at you.

You nodded. “I trust Yeosang,” you replied. “He doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He told me to warn you. He said if you can be ready tomorrow night, he’ll help us leave.” Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair before looking up at you. “Wait. Help us leave?” he asked. You nodded. “I told him I know you wouldn’t leave without me. Not after the plans we made, right?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course I’d never leave without you. But… tomorrow night? I don’t know if that’s enough time…” he trailed off, looking around his cabin. “I would have to leave almost everything behind.”

You glanced around. “I could help you pack,” you offered, drawing his attention. Hongjoong’s lips curled into a smile and he took your face in his hands. “What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you need to pack?” You shook your head. “All I have are the clothes I wear. I don’t need anything from my house. All I need is you,” you replied.

Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss. “Okay,” he said softly, getting to his feet. “We’d better get to work,” he added. You removed your cloak and started to help him pack up. He told you which were the most important items as well as what he could spare.

You worked diligently as the sun started to set and packed up what you could. “I’ll have to leave the animals,” he said softly. “Unless there’s space in the cart,” he added, looking around at what you already managed to pack.

You opened your mouth to respond but a sound from outside caught you off guard. You turned to Hongjoong who glanced at you before moving to the window to peer outside. You rushed to his side. “What is it?” you whispered, trying to peer out but he pushed you back.

“You need to hide, now,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the back wall. You watched as he shifted a small shelf, exposing a hidden panel that he then pulled open. “Hongjoong? What are you doing?” you asked as he grabbed your hand.

“I need you to hide, Starlight. Don’t argue with me! Just do as I say, please!” he pleaded as he guided you to crouch. You crawled into the hole in the wall and turned as he knelt down. “I’m going to close this door and put the shelf back. Stay here. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, follow this tunnel to the exit and then I want you to go home,” he explained.

You opened your mouth to protest but he spoke over you. “I want you to go home, do you understand?” he asked. You’d never seen him look so serious before. It scared you.

You nodded silently. He cupped your cheek gently, leaning into the small space. “I love you, Starlight.” Before you could answer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips before he backed up and replaced the panel. You heard the shifting of the shelf and sat in the darkness.

A loud pounding at the front door sounded and you froze as you heard Hongjoong walk calmly over to the door and open it. “Good evening, gentlemen,” you heard him say in a pleasant tone. “How can I help you?”

“Cut the horse shit, witch!” one voice rang out and there were several murmurs of agreement. Hongjoong fell silent before he let out a sigh. “Yeosang,” he said softly and your eyes widened as you heard Yeosang speak. “I am so sorry, Hongjoong,” he started. “I didn’t want it to come to this but I need you to come with us for questioning.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard Hongjoong speak. “Can I at least put the fire out so my home doesn’t catch fire?”

You heard several people protest but they fell silent. “Of course,” Yeosang replied. You watched the back of the panel as the light on the other side was extinguished. You heard footsteps head for the door and then the door shut.

You did as Hongjoong asked, waiting for ten minutes and then an extra five before you finally decided to move, a chill settling in to your hiding place. You followed the tunnel, crawling for what felt like minutes before you finally found a small wooden board blocking your path. It had vines woven into the gaps in the wood. You pushed it aside and pulled yourself out of the hole before replacing it and brushing yourself off.

You looked around and saw you were about thirty meters behind Hongjoong’s cabin, the exit of the tunnel at the base of a tree. You started back towards the cabin, being careful not to make too much sound. You saw and heard nothing so you quickly and quietly made your way back to the village, by passing your home as you headed for the church which is where you were certain they had taken Hongjoong.

Your suspicions were proven true when you arrived and snuck behind the church, avoiding the men who stood out front. You carefully climbed onto one of the posts, holding onto the building for stabilization. You peered through the window where you could see Yeosang, Jonas, and your father speaking with a few other of the villagers.

You lowered your head so as not to be spotted and pressed your ear against the side of the building but couldn’t hear anything other than muffled voices. You carefully climbed down and crawled under the space under the church until you were under where you assumed the group was standing.

“We will hold him here while we question him,” you heard Jonas say though his voice was still muffled. You heard your father speak but were unable to make out what he said. “No,” you heard Jonas reply. “This is a church investigation and he will be held here for the duration of his questioning.”

You heard several voices speak at once but quiet as Yeosang spoke this time. “Trust us to do this. If he is involved, we will find out.”

“And if he’s not involved?” you heard your father ask. “Then he will be released,” Yeosang answered. You heard several voices protest but Jonas interrupted them. “If he be innocent, there be no need to hold him.” You nodded silently to yourself.

As the group started to break up and several footsteps made their way to the door you heard your father speak again. “When you went to his cabin, was she there?” he asked and you assumed he was speaking to Yeosang.

Your suspicion was confirmed when Yeosang answered. “I did not see her inside,” he replied. “I stood in the doorway and I didn’t see any sign of her.”

You started to crawl out, checking the area to make sure it was safe for you to exit. Once you did, you headed back towards the house. Your makeshift rope was still there surprisingly so you carefully and quietly climbed back up into your room and pulled the rope up and shut the window as your door opened.

You turned to find your mother. “Where have you been?” she demanded. You removed your cloak wordlessly and set it aside. “I’m getting ready for bed,” you announced. Your mother moved to grab your arm but you pulled away from her. “I asked you a question, girl,” your mother snapped. “I’m not a girl,” you retorted. “I’m a woman. And I don’t have to tell you where I’ve been but I’m sure you already know.”

Your mother glared at you before letting out a heavy sigh. “Your father is furious. It’s not like you to sneak out like this,” she said, causing you to laugh. “I’ve been sneaking out for years,” you quipped. “I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it.”

Your mother stared at you in shock. As she opened her mouth to reply, the door downstairs opened and she glanced at the door before turning back to you. “Get dressed for bed. I will handle your father.”

She left without another word and you went about your nightly routine. You didn’t hear another peep from downstairs and neither of your parents checked in as you climbed into bed. You tossed and turned, unable to relax until you finally fell into an uneasy slumber.

—————————————————————

The next morning you awoke to the sound of rapid knocking at your door and your eyes opened quickly. As you sat up, the door opened and your mother entered, shutting the door behind her and rushing to your bedside. “Get up,” she whispered, pulling the covers back. “Get dressed.”

You got up and grabbed your clothes from your mother but before you could ask what was going on, there was a heavier knock and the door opened. Your father strode in. You had expected him to look beside himself with anger and while there was still a hint of anger to his expression, there was none in his voice when he spoke.

“Get dressed,” he said sternly. “And meet us downstairs.” He glanced at your mother before looking back at you. “Now,” he snapped and then turned, exiting as your mother rushed after him. Before closing the door, she gave you an apologetic look but what she was sorry for, you didn’t know.

Once you were dressed, you headed down the stairs and upon passing through the door frame into the kitchen, you froze in your tracks, staring at the guest standing in your parents’ home. He looked up to meet your gaze, giving you a warm smile.

“Yeosang,” you said softly as you looked from him to your parents and back. “What’s going o—”

“Get in here and sit down,” your father snapped, cutting you off. You stared at him, anger coursing through your veins at being spoken to like a child. You hesitated, challenging your father’s authority knowing he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you in front of Yeosang. 

“Y/N,” Yeosang said, his soft voice a drastic contrast from your fathers. “Please, have a seat.”

You glanced at your father, glaring at him before moving to sit in the chair. Yeosang moved to sit across from you while your mother sat next to you, your father on the other side. You could feel the awkward atmosphere, thick with tension as the four of you sat in silence.

“Y/N,” Yeosang started, clearing his throat, drawing your gaze. “Your parents have discussed something they feel is important with me and I want you to know that you’re not in trouble,” he explained, with that same, kind smile on his face.

“Oh she’s in trouble,” your father said and you glared at him, biting your tongue to keep from saying something in retaliation. Yeosang chose to ignore what your father said and continued speaking.

“Your parents’ feel that it’s due time for you to marry,” Yeosang said, skipping straight to the point. You felt your heart skid to a stop. ‘Marriage?’ You turned your head to look at your mother who refused to meet your eye. You didn’t dare look at your father, afraid it might set you off.

“Since evidence of your relationship with Hongjoong—” 

“Don’t say that name in my home!” your father hissed, almost arching his back like a barn cat in the face of fear. It made you feel a little more relieved that your father, and perhaps the whole village, were still scared of Hongjoong. Not that they had anything to fear. Hongjoong would never do anything to cause harm to another soul if it was not warranted.

Again, Yeosang chose to ignore your father, convincing you that he was, indeed, a saint.

“Since it has come to light, your options for marriage are limited,” he continued. You held back the urge to laugh but managed to keep it down. You were planning to marry Hongjoong. And nothing, not even being held for questioning for crimes he did not commit, would stop that.

“It has been proposed—”

“No,” you said, without hearing the rest. You weren’t sure what was going to be said and part of you feared that Nicolas was the only willing soul and you would rather die than marry him. “No?” Yeosang asked, curiously. “You haven’t even heard all of my proposal.”

You shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “I’m already promised to someone.”

Silence fell over the table before your father spoke. “You insolent, ungrateful, wench!”

You turned to look at him and caught the full strike of the back of his hand. The blow caught you off guard, knocking you out of your seat. Your mother let out a cry and got up, moving to try and help you up. “We have a guest!” she shrieked as your father got up, intent on advancing on you.

Before he could land another blow, Yeosang was standing in front of him.

“If you lay one more hand on her, I will have you arrested for assault,” he said, his voice even and calm. Your father took several deep breaths before glaring down at you. “I’ve had enough of your disobedience, girl!” he shouted.

“We’ve raised you, clothed you, fed you, and this is how you repay us? By sneaking around with some backwoods witch?! Parading around like a whore?!”

“That’s enough!” Yeosang said, raising his voice above your father’s, shocking both your parents and yourself. You’d never once heard Yeosang raise his voice in anger. “Do you think insulting her is going to make her listen to you?”

“Even if he was as sweet as pie, I still wouldn’t listen to him,” you hissed, raising your hand to your swollen cheek which was now tender to the touch, making you wince. Yeosang turned to look at you, a pleading look in his eyes. He turned back to your father. “You’ve made your point,” he added.

“Yelling at, insulting, and beating your daughter won’t make her behave the way you want her to. She’s an adult. You can’t treat her like this,” he continued. Your father looked downright angry at Yeosang now. “How dare you tell me what to do in my own home!” he spat.

“Would you like my help or not?” Yeosang asked, raising his voice over your father’s once more. “If you do, I suggest you stop or I will walk out that door right now,” he added, pointing towards the front door. That seemed to shut your father up and he smashed his lips together, murmuring in anger before he moved to sit back down.

Yeosang turned and knelt down, offering his hand. “Are you all right?” he whispered, eyes falling to your cheek. You nodded wordlessly as your mother helped you up. “Just let me handle this, okay?” he added in an undertone. “You trust me, right?”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his for a moment before you nodded. “I trust you.”

You sat back down and Yeosang returned to his seat across from you.

“As I was saying,” he started. “Your options for marriage are limited as the rumors have already spread.”

“Not even Nicolas wants you,” your father interjected and you watched as Yeosang glared at your father. “One more remark like that and I will rescind my offer,” Yeosang said and your father fell silent once more, hopefully for the last time. ‘Offer?’

“In the face of your limited options, I’ve come to offer a solution,” Yeosang explained, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table as he looked at you.

With bated breath, you waited for him to explain his solution.

“I’ve offered to marry you.”

The silence that fell over the table rang in your ears as you processed his words. ‘Marry… Yeosang? Surely, he can’t be serious. He must be jesting!’

Your mother nudged you, stirring you out of your train of thoughts. “M-marry you?” you stammered, pure shock clouding your mind. A million thoughts raced through your mind but there was only one that mattered. ‘What about Hongjoong?’

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t marry you.”

“You will marry him,” your father snapped. “He is the only option to save your reputation. Our reputation.” Yeosang, clearly annoyed by your father’s interruption, turned to your mother, a polite smile on his face and spoke in the sweetest voice possible.

“Could I speak to Y/N, please? Alone.”

Your mother’s eyes widened and she nodded wordlessly, getting up from her seat and moving to where your father sat. She gently pushed him until he got up and the two of them went into the other room where you could hear your father grumbling under his breath as they climbed the stairs.

Once you were alone, you turned back to Yeosang. “What are you doing?” you hissed as he got up, moving to take your father’s seat and taking your hand. “Please,” he said softly. “I need you to play along and trust me. I know you and Hongjoong made promises to marry each other and I fully intend to prolong the marriage as much as possible until his name is cleared and you can leave the village together,” he explained. “I’m doing this to protect you.”

You shook your head. “And if they never clear his name? What then? You can’t put it off forever.”

Yeosang let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his dark locks. “I’ll figure out a secondary plan but I need you to trust me. I’m working to clear his name and if I can’t get it cleared, I will figure out a way to get you two out of here so you can be together. Please, just trust me, okay?”

You stared at him for a few moments before sighing and nodding. “Okay,” you answered. “I’ll play along for now.” Yeosang gave your hand a gentle squeeze before getting up and moving back to his seat. “Is the thought of marrying me really that distasteful?” he asked in a playful tone. You snorted, shaking your head as you heard your parents heading back down the stairs.

“Not at all,” you answered, looking up at him. “And maybe under other circumstances, I’d jump at the chance but—”

“You love Hongjoong. I understand.”

When your parents returned, your mother took her seat beside you, your father back in his place. You cleared your throat before speaking. “We’ve spoken,” you answered, looking at Yeosang before turning to look at your mother. “And I’ve agreed.”

The look of relief that washed over your mother’s face brought a smile to your face. Even if it was a lie, at least she could live without the worry for now.

When you disappeared into the night with Hongjoong, however, she could worry then.

Your parents started the necessary procedures for Yeosang to begin courting you which gave you two the excuse to spend time one on one where he would update you on Hongjoong’s case. The good news, there was no evidence to suggest Hongjoong was responsible. The bad news, the villagers did not seem appeased by this as their misfortunes continued.

“Do you think someone else is causing the problems?” you asked one night while lying in bed, a bundling board separating you. “I think that’s possible,” Yeosang whispered. “Now that I look at it from a different perspective, I can see how a witch might be involved but I know it’s not Hongjoong.”

You turned onto your side, peering over the board at Yeosang. “Let’s say for argument’s sake, there is a witch cursing the village,” you started, drawing his attention and he turned his head to look at you, a smile spreading over his face before he stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, brows furrowing as he tried to force his laughter to subside. “Lay back,” he said, turning onto his side. You did as he asked and lay back down. You heard him shift on the other side of the board. “Look at me,” he whispered and you glanced up, seeing just his eyes peering down at you.

“This is what you looked like,” he added, another wave of quiet laughter coursing through him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from you as you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up to meet him face to face.

“Okay, I get it now,” you said, your giggles subsiding. “But I’m serious. Let’s say for argument’s sake there is a witch. Who do you think it is?” Yeosang’s laughter also subsided and he regarded you with a serious look. “You’re asking me to accuse someone?” he asked.

“Hypothetically,” you added. Yeosang fell silent before lying back against the mattress. “I do not actually know,” he answered. “I do not think I can safely guess.” You let out a groan and fell back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillow softly.

“You wanna know who I think it is?” you asked. You heard him chuckle. “I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway,” he answered.

“I think it’s the least suspicious person,” you answered. “The least likely candidate. Someone you would never even think to accuse.”

Silence fell over you two for a beat before you heard the sheets rustle and Yeosang’s eyes appeared over the board once more. “You think the witch is Ms. Goode?” A smirk crossed your face. “So you would guess her?” you asked. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “Well, who would you guess, then?”

You sat up, turning to look at him, the same smirk on your face as you leaned in. “You.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened. “Me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded as you leaned back. “But it wouldn’t explain why you’re so adamant on helping Hongjoong.” you continued. “Perhaps it’s Jonas!” you whispered. Yeosang sat up, fixing you with a stern look.

“This is what happens when people start throwing around accusations,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “It’s only hypothetical, Yeosang. I don’t actually think it’s Jonas.”

—————————————————————

Yeosang continued to keep you informed of the status of the investigation and to postpone the wedding as long as possible. You were getting more and more anxious as you waited for Hongjoong to be cleared. 

You had been confined to the house, unless Yeosang or your mother were accompanying you. It was picking at your sanity and you were slowly losing grip on reality. You had spent all day inside, only being let out to tend to your garden and use the outhouse.

As you were finishing up dinner, your father got up and cleared his throat. “I have to call a meeting,” he announced. You looked up at him and then to your mother. She said nothing as your father stepped away from the table and headed for the door.

Once it shut, you turned to your mother. “Meeting? What about?” you asked. Your mother shook her head as she cleared away your father’s bowl and cup. “Are you finished?” she asked to which you shook your head.

“Mother, what meeting?” you asked. Your mother set the bowl down, a little harder than usual and turned around to meet your gaze. “I did not ask because I do not need to know. And neither do you. Finish your dinner and go about your chores.”

You watched as she turned away and resisted the urge to groan as you turned your gaze down to your bowl and pushed bits of potato around. After a few minutes of this, mind reeling with what your father could possibly be calling a meeting for, you finally stood up, grabbing the bowl and moving to clear your place.

Your mother took the bowl from you without a word and you went about the rest of your chores. As you were wiping down the table, a knock rang out. Your mother wiped her hands and made her way through the kitchen, disappearing into the living room. A moment later you heard the front door open.

“Pastor Kang? Is everything alright?” you heard your mother ask and looked up, trying to peer through the doorway into the vestibule. “Sorry for the late call, Ms. Y/L/N but I was wondering if I could borrow Y/N for a moment?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, hope building in your chest that you might get a moment to step outside, away from the watchful eye of your mother. “Her father just left,” you heard your mother say, sounding apologetic. “She really shouldn’t be going outside.”

“I understand,” you heard Yeosang reply and were about to protest, even though it wouldn’t help your case in the slightest, when you heard him add on. “It would just be for a short while. I’ll have her back before her father even leaves the meeting hall. I promise.”

You could hear your mother sigh and quickly went back to work as footsteps started back towards the kitchen, stopping at the door. “Y/N,” your mother called and you turned to look back at her. “Pastor Kang wants to see you,” she continued. You set the rag in your hand down and wiped your hands before heading for the door.

Your mother caught you, firmly grabbing your arm. “Be sure to be back before your father gets home. Else he will really be mad and you won’t be able to leave until after you are married.” You nodded wordlessly and your mother let go, turning to watch as you walked over to where Yeosang waited. You stepped out of the door and shut it behind you.

“To what do I owe—”

“Hurry,” Yeosang said, taking you by the elbow gently. “We don’t have much time. If I’m to have you back before your father gets home, we’re going to have to make haste.” He started to guide you away from the house and behind the buildings so as not to be seen.

“What? Make haste?” you asked as you grabbed your skirt in your hand and lifted it off the ground to be able to move more freely without risk of tripping over the hem. “With all the men in the meeting, the church is empty,” Yeosang said as you hurried to keep pace.

“What?” you asked, halting in place. Yeosang noticed you weren’t following and turned around to return to your side. “We cannot stop!” he urged, placing a hand on your back. “We must hurry!” He guided you along behind the houses until you reached the church.

Yeosang checked to make sure the coast was clear and led you inside.

You’d never been inside the church at night or when it was this empty before. There was an unsettling and eerie atmosphere about it. The rafters were completely shrouded in darkness and anything could be lurking up there, hiding in the blackness.

“This way,” Yeosang said, pulling you out of your dark thoughts. He led you further into the church towards a door that led to a room off to the side. “I’ve never been back here,” you whispered to him. “There are rooms back here,” he explained, showing you the narrow corridor. “When we have visiting clergy, they stay here,” he added.

Yeosang led you down the hall to the room at the end and unlocked it with a key he produced. “He’s in here,” Yeosang explained. “We keep him locked back here because it’s safer than what the villagers had suggested. Only Jonas and I have a key to get back here.”

Once the door was unlocked, Yeosang called out. “Hongjoong, it’s just me, Yeosang. I have a visitor with me.” He turned to look at you and nodded before turning the knob and pushing open the door. 

Inside was a modest sized room with a single bed, bedside table, and a small wardrobe. A half melted candle sat on the bedside table along with an empty plate and a cup. Sitting on the bed, back against the wall was Hongjoong. He looked up and the relief that passed over his face was the same that you felt upon seeing him.

You rushed into the room, nearly tripping over your skirt as you climbed onto the bed and threw your arms around him. Hongjoong caught you, pulling you tightly against him as you sobbed into his shoulder. “Shh Starlight,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he gently rocked you. “It’s alright.”

You heard Yeosang clear his throat from the doorway and turned to look at him. “I can only give you a few minutes,” he explained. “I will go keep watch and come get you when it’s time to go,” he added. You nodded and he shut the door, his footsteps receding.

You turned back to Hongjoong. He had a partially healed cut on his bottom lip and a bruised eye. You took his face gently in your hands. “What have they done to you?” you whispered. He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, pulling your hands away and placing a kiss on the back of each one.

“What about you?” he asked, looking up at you. “Yeosang told me your parents are keeping you confined in the house?” he asked. You nodded. “They’re trying to force me to marry Yeosang,” you mumbled, settling in his lap.

He reached up, taking your chin in his fingers, and tilted your head back. “Maybe you should,” he said softly. You knocked his hand away and sat up straighter, to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even saying?” you asked, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I’m thinking logically Starlight,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know Yeosang is advocating for me but let’s not kid ourselves. The villagers are intent on seeing that I hang for this. They aren’t giving in or listening to reason,” he continued to explain. “I think if you marry Yeosang, it will protect you from their wrath should things go awry.”

You shook your head, almost as if you were shaking his words out of your head. “What about us? What about our future?” you asked, your voice soft. Hongjoong smiled a solemn smile, cupping your cheek. “It was a nice dream, Starlight,” he started. “But I think at this point, that’s all it will ever be: a dream.”

You looked away, blinking back the tears that had been threatening to spill since you entered the room. “Look at me,” Hongjoong said softly. At first, you ignored his request but when he asked again, you couldn’t hold back. You turned to meet his gaze.

“I love you so much,” he said softly, cupping your face and wiping away a few of the stray tears that actually managed to spill. “More than anything, Starlight. More than my own life,” he continued. “And you know nothing will ever change that but you need to marry Yeosang.”

You pulled away from him, moving to get up only for him to gently grab your wrist and prevent you from going any further. “Please, Starlight,” he pleaded. “If not for your own sake, do it for me? So when I leave this world, I know you’ll be okay—”

You pulled your wrist from his grip. “Stop talking like that!” you snapped. “Stop talking like you’re going to die!” You started to walk towards the door. “If you keep talking like that, I will walk out of here and—”

“And what?” Hongjoong interjected, getting up from the bed. “And never come back?” he asked. You turned to look at him, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “Don’t threaten me, Y/N. That is the cruelest thing you could do to me,” he said as he walked over and took your face in his hands. “You’re not that cruel, Starlight.”

A small sob escaped you, prompting Hongjoong to pull you against him and wrap his arms around you, allowing you to cry against his chest. “I’m only thinking of you, Starlight. If I am convicted of this, I don’t want to take you with me.”

“I do,” you said, your voice cracking. “I don’t want to live without you!”

Hongjoong was about to respond but a soft knock interrupted the both of you. The door cracked open and Yeosang peered in. “I’m sorry,” he started. “But we have to go.” You clung tighter to Hongjoong, pressing your face into his shirt.

“It’s alright, Starlight,” Hongjoong whispered. “Promise me we’re going to leave,” you whispered. “Like we planned. That this is all going to blow over and we’re going to leave like we planned and build a cabin by the sea,” you continued. Hongjoong glanced past you to where Yeosang stood before he finally returned his gaze to you.

“I promise, Starlight.”

You pulled him into a tight hug before he whispered in your ear. “If something happens to me, I need you to find my box and hide it.” You pulled back to look at him, confusion on your face. “What?” you asked softly. “In the crawlspace, the one you hid in, there’s a box buried there. If anything happens to me, I want you to go into the crawlspace, dig it up and take it deep into the woods where no one will ever find it and bury it. Promise me, Y/N.”

“But—” 

“And whatever you do, do not open it. You understand me?”

“Hongjoong, I—”

“Promise me, Y/N!” he cut you off. You stared back at him before nodding slowly. “I promise,” you said softly. Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss before Yeosang stepped forward to break your reunion apart.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Yeosang said, gently pulling you towards the door. “We can’t stay here. The meeting will be ending at any moment.” You glanced at him quickly before looking back at Hongjoong. “Wait,” you said, pulling from his grip and rushing back to Hongjoong, pulling him into a kiss.

Hongjoong kissed you back with as much passion as you threw into it. After a moment, he pulled back, cupping your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “And I love you, Starlight,” he responded. “I’ll always love you.”

Yeosang urged you to move and reluctantly, you pulled away from Hongjoong and allowed the pastor to guide you out of the room, turning to watch as he shut the door, Hongjoong disappearing from sight as he locked the door behind him. He slipped the key into his pocket and guided you back down the hall and into the main room.

“I’m working on securing supplies and a carriage,” Yeosang explained as he led you out of the church and started the trek back to your house. “If I’m able to secure them, I will send you a message when you and Hongjoong will leave,” he continued. “You must be ready to go as soon as I give you that message, am I clear?” he asked.

You nodded wordlessly, staring at the ground as you walked. You felt his hand grab your arm gently and turn you to face him. “Do you understand?” he asked, tipping your head back and forcing you to look at him. “You have to be ready to go before then. Whatever important items you need must be packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded again. “Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I understand, Yeosang.” The two of you stared at one another for a moment longer before Yeosang let go, gesturing in the direction of your house. “Let’s go,” he said softly.

The rest of the walk was made in silence, the cool night air full of the sounds of crickets, punctuated by the occasional hooting of an owl. Once you reached the door, Yeosang stopped you, taking your hand gently.

“Regardless of if the villagers accept Hongjoong’s innocence or not,” he started, his voice low. “I give you my word that I will get you and Hongjoong out of here. That is a promise.” You forced a smile, thanking him as you reached for the doorknob.

Yeosang stopped you once more. “Do not lose hope, Y/N.” 

Once you were back inside, your mother came to check on you and you did your best to convince her you were fine with a fake smile and short but enthusiastic replies but in reality, all you felt was exhausted and more full of despair than you had before visiting Hongjoong.

You asked to be excused early and went up to your room, letting out a sigh as you shut the door and leaned against it. You looked around your room, eyes taking in everything and started over towards the small sewing table where your handicrafts sat, some half finished.

Your fingertips brushed over the embroidery as you looked around at it all. Yeosang’s voice came into your mind. ‘... at a moment’s notice.’ You looked over to your wardrobe, a newfound determination in your chest as you walked over and opened the door.

You rifled through the clothes and found what you were looking for. A linen bag. You packed away one dress and one nightgown, figuring you could always make more clothes once you and Hongjoong got to your destination.

You grabbed a few other sentimental items to pack into the bag. Once you were sure you had everything you wanted or needed, you pulled the drawstrings closed and hid the bag in the back of your wardrobe. You then undressed and pulled on your nightgown as you heard the door downstairs open.

You quickly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. You could hear your parents downstairs talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Rolling onto your side to face the wall, your back to the door, was a good move because a couple moments later, the door opened slowly.

You didn’t move, pretending to be asleep until the door shut quietly with a click. You lay there, waiting for sleep to come as you listened to your parents move around the house until they both entered their bedroom and eventually it fell quiet.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at the wall but eventually sleep finally took you and you passed into a deep slumber without dreams.

Hours had passed since you left and Hongjoong had picked up the book Yeosang had given him a couple days ago. He had been reading it slowly, to make it last longer not knowing if or when he might get another.

When Yeosang returned, he had brought Hongjoong another candle before retiring to his home for the evening. Hongjoong had lost track of time since then but the current candle was almost completely used up by the time he reached the next chapter of his book.

He had just turned the page when there was a light knock at his door. He looked up as the door opened. He had expected it to be Yeosang but was surprised when he saw that it was Jonas instead. The elder minister almost never visited him unless to question him.

Hongjoong watched as Jonas closed the door and turned to face him, looking around the room. His eyes landed on the book in Hongjoong’s hands. “I see Pastor Kang is keeping you entertained,” he said simply. Hongjoong nodded silently, waiting for the old man to tell him why he’s visiting him.

“Did you have a visitor?” Jonas asked and Hongjoong’s heart sank. ‘Shit.’ Hongjoong said nothing as he watched Jonas who smiled. “I’m not mad,” he said. “It was nice of Yeosang to bring Miss Y/N to come see you.”

Hongjoong closed his book, setting it aside on the bed and shifted to sit up, narrowing his eyes at Jonas. “How did you—?”

“Know?” Jonas asked, finishing his sentence. “This is my church,” Jonas explained. “You really think I wouldn’t know the comings and goings of my own church?” he asked. “I thought you were smarter than that,” Jonas added. “You strike me as a smart man, Hongjoong,” Jonas continued. “Well, not extremely smart,” he added with a chuckle.

“After all, a witch ought to know better.”

Hongjoong watched him carefully. “Know better? Than what?”

“Than to cross an even more powerful witch,” Jonas replied. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously. “So you know who it is, then?” Hongjoong asked. Jonas let out a chuckle. “Do I know who it is?” he asked, sounding highly amused.

Hongjoong was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to know why the old man was in his room and why they were even having this conversation. “Will you just get to the point?” Hongjoong asked, sounding as every bit annoyed as he felt.

“The point?” Jonas asked, his smile falling. “Of course.”

“Have you been paying any attention to the village?” Jonas asked, suddenly changing the subject again. Hongjoong shook his head. “Why would I?” he asked. Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “Of course,” he said. “Why would a reclusive witch who lives in the woods pay any attention to his only neighbors who live in the village just outside the forest?”

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m serious, old man,” he growled. “Just get to the point already! I grow tired of this conversation.”

“You really aren’t as observant or as powerful as I thought,” Jonas said with an amused hint to his voice.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked softly. “Aren’t witches supposed to be able to sense these things? Know when another witch is around?” Jonas asked. Hongjoong stared back at him. “Sometimes,” Hongjoong answered. “You have to actually look for it though.”

Jonas nodded, keeping his eyes on Hongjoong. “Well, look for it,” Jonas encouraged. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously again. ‘Why is he so adamant?’ he wondered to himself. Jonas said nothing else, waiting for Hongjoong to do something.

Reluctantly, Hongjoong let out a sigh and closed his eyes, channeling his own power and testing the area around him, feeling for a change in the air. A shock went up his spine and his eyes snapped open, meeting the dark gaze of Jonas.

“You?” Hongjoong whispered, eyes widening.

“Ah, finally,” Jonas said with a chuckle. “See? I knew you were a smart man.” Jonas started for the door. Hongjoong moved to get to his feet but Jonas turned to face him, eyes completely blacked out. A chill swept over Hongjoong and he was unable to move. It wasn’t due to fear. It was Jonas’ doing. 

“You son of a—” Hongjoong choked out but Jonas waved his hand, forcing Hongjoong’s mouth shut. “Be silent,” Jonas hissed. “I simply wanted you to know who was responsible for your downfall.” He turned to open the door and Hongjoong managed to break some of the control Jonas had over his body.

“Why?”

Jonas stopped, opening the door and peering into the room. “Why?” Jonas asked, mimicking Hongjoong’s question. “Because you were there,” Jonas answered. “That’s all you need to know. The villagers will find you guilty and you will die for it. The why does not matter. Not to you anyway.”

The door shut and Hongjoong finally regained control over his body. He rushed to the door and tried pulling at the knob but it wouldn’t budge. He pounded on the door. “Come back here you son of a bitch!” Hongjoong yelled into the wood.

After trying and failing to open the door, he finally returned to the bed to sit down, covering his face with his hands. He sighed and lifted his head to stare at the wall across from him. He had to get out of this room somehow.

He glanced around at the windowless box he was confined in.

‘But how?’

A few days passed since you’d visited Hongjoong and they were no closer to releasing him. You tried to keep up appearances, pretending to be excited for your wedding to Yeosang but each day that passed without word from your fake betrothed felt like another knife in the chest.

He hadn’t been by since sneaking you out and you were starting to lose hope again.

Your father found out about Yeosang’s visit and he had grown angry that your mother had let you leave without her. Despite agreeing to let you marry Yeosang, he was growing distrustful of the young pastor. Yeosang kept delaying the wedding, citing the case with Hongjoong and that he wants it to be resolved before marrying you.

He also didn’t seem to understand why Yeosang kept advocating for the release of Hongjoong and his claims of the latter’s innocence. The villagers were growing more and more restless, wanting some form of action to be done.

Many were demanding Hongjoong be dealt with swiftly so the curse on the village would end but at every turn, Yeosang was fighting them, demanding patience so justice could be done correctly.

Five days after your visit to Hongjoong, action came but not in the way the village or you expected.

After dinner, you were made to go to bed early and tossed and turned long after your parents went to their room. You had received new blankets for your bed after tearing apart the old ones and had them pulled up to your chin as you turned over onto your side again.

You let out a groan as the urge to urinate hit you and you begrudgingly sat up, pulling your boots on without tying the laces and got out of bed, grabbing your cloak. You carefully opened the door and headed downstairs as you put your cloak on.

Your parents initially had you locked in your room at night but when you mentioned having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and would have to pound on your door until one of them got up to let you out, they stopped locking it so they could get their sleep at night.

Outside was mostly quiet, the sound of crickets filled the air punctuated by the occasional owl hoot. You did your business, letting out a sigh as you sat on the bowl. Sleep had been avoiding you for the last couple days as you spent most nights tossing and turning.

Once you finished your business, you opened the door and stepped out, shutting it softly before turning to head back to the door. As you reached it, you felt a hand cover your mouth and an arm wrap around you, pulling you away from the door and into the shadow of your house. You kicked and struggled against your would-be attacker.

“Y/N it’s me!” a familiar voice hissed. They turned you and removed their hand from your mouth. “Yeosang?!” you whispered. “What the h—”

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, keeping his voice down. “I tried waving at you but you didn’t see me,” he explained. You placed a hand over your heart and tried to calm your breathing. “What are you doing out here?” you finally asked.

Yeosang straightened up. “I have been waiting outside your house for hours, waiting for you to come out,” he explained. “What? Why?” you whispered. “To give you this,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a folded piece of paper into your palm.

“I don’t have much time. I have to get back,” he said, glancing around. “Wait!” you said, grabbing his arm. “How is Hongjoong?” you asked. Yeosang sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, truthfully. My key has disappeared and Jonas won’t let me in to see him. He keeps telling me Hongjoong is fine but for some reason…” he trailed off, looking worried.

“You don’t think Jonas has done something to him?” you asked. Yeosang shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. Anyway, it won’t stop anything. I’ll just have to pick the lock and get in there.” You stared at Yeosang as he mumbled to himself before he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Go inside. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he urged, gently pushing you towards your door. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Before you could say anything, he turned and headed in the direction of his home, disappearing into the darkness. You contemplated opening the note but decided against it and went back inside, heading up to your room and shutting the door.

Once inside, you removed your cloak and boots and sat on your bed, unfolding the piece of paper to read in the low light of your candle. Written on it in Yeosang’s hastily scribbled handwriting were four simple words.

The next day you went about your chores like normal, tending to the garden, getting eggs, helping your mother around the house. You stayed silent for the most part, only speaking when spoken to, something your mother noticed to be odd.

When she asked about it, you made up an excuse that you were just tired. Your mother fussed, checking for any sign of illness and you reassured her you were fine and that you were having a hard time sleeping at night. “Lots of tossing and turning,” you simply said.

Your father spent most of the day out of the house, helping one of the neighbors with a new pig shed after the last one had been partially destroyed by something in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, the pigs were fine.

You had hoped to see Yeosang at any point that day but you knew he was probably busy arranging yours and Hongjoong’s escape for that night. An excitement had been bubbling up inside you after reading the note last night. It wasn’t until that morning that it hit you. Soon you would be leaving the village and your old life behind and beginning a new one with Hongjoong.

Things were starting to look up.

At dinner, you sat and ate quietly while your mother and father spoke. He went on about the pig shed and the other incidents that had been happening. The villagers, your parents included, still seemed to believe Hongjoong was responsible despite him being confined to the church.

As you were finishing your meal, your exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. “Y/N?” your mother asked as you almost fell asleep at the table.

“I’m all right,” you said softly. “I’m just really tired.”

Your father exchanged glances with your mother. “You haven’t been sneaking out at night, have you?” he asked sternly. You shook your head. “No,” you answered truthfully. “I just haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.”

Your father returned his attention to his meal. “Perhaps Yeosang should stop delaying and make good on his promise to marry you. Maybe spending the night in his bed will help you sleep better.” Your mother chastised him and you ignored his words.

“M-may I be ‘scused?” you asked, slurring your words. Your mother nodded, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course dear,” she answered. “I’ll take care of your plate. You go on up to bed.”

You struggled to get up, your limbs feeling heavy and a weakness taking over your body. Your mother got up from her seat and helped guide you to the stairs and after a long struggle to climb them, she finally got you into your room where you collapsed onto the bed.

Your mother exited the room, shutting the door carefully and returned downstairs where your father sat. “I think I used too much,” your mother admitted as she looked at your cup. “Just keep an eye on her throughout the night,” he answered as he finished his food.

“I’m off to meet with the others,” he started, getting to his feet. Your mother looked at him apprehensively. “Is this really necessary?” she asked as your father grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “Yes,” he answered.

“The pastors aren’t doing anything about it,” he explained. “It’s up to us to keep our community safe from dangers. I will be back once it is done.”

Your mother watched as your father headed for the door and exited.

Yeosang was sitting by the window, reading from his book, when he heard the sound of shouting. Looking up he glanced out the window and saw a group of men walking towards the front steps of the church. He set the book down and got up, grabbing his coat, and headed for the door.

Once outside, he approached the men quickly.

“Good evening gentlemen,” he said politely. “How can I help you?”

“We’ve no time for your pleasantries,” a man Yeosang recognized to be Abel, said. “We’ve come to enact justice.” There were several murmurs of agreement as Yeosang looked around the group. His eyes landed on your father and a frown grew on his face.

“Y/F/N, what is this about?” he asked. Your father narrowed his eyes. “The villagers are restless, Pastor Kang. Uneasy even. They know the witch is being held in the church, our place of worship. They feel it is being tainted with its presence and that it must answer for crimes committed against our community. We must purge the village of its curses and its filth!”

The others agreed loudly and Yeosang stepped closer. “Is that really why you’re here?” he asked. “Or is it perhaps for another reason? A more… personal one?” A brief look of fear crossed your father’s face before being replaced with anger.

“Step aside, Pastor, and let us handle the heretic.”

Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he replied. “We have not concluded our investigation.”

“Damn your investigation!” another man shouted. “We’re tired of waiting! You have the culprit inside the church! He’s the witch!” Yeosang held his hands up in an attempt to calm the small mob. “Gentlemen, please! Let’s not act rashly.”

His pleas went unheard as the men grew more and more restless. “I’m sorry, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “But you can’t stop us. We’re here to serve justice.”

“This isn’t justice!” Yeosang said loudly. “You’re condemning an innocent man to a painful death!” The men ignored him and pushed past, climbing the steps and pushing open the doors to the church with Yeosang in tow.

“Stop! You cannot do this!”

“Go get him, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “We will wait.” Yeosang hesitated. “I do not have a key,” Yeosang responded. One of the men, who Yeosang recognized as Gideon, pushed him roughly, almost knocking Yeosang to the floor. “Liar!” he spat. Your father stepped in, placing a hand on Gideon’s chest. “Calm yourself, Gideon,” he said.

“He’s protecting the witch!” Gideon spat, pointing at Yeosang. “He should be punished, too!” Your father pushed Gideon back. “Watch your words, Gideon! He is a man of the cloth!” That seemed to snap Gideon out of his momentary lapse in judgment. He turned to Yeosang and bowed his head. “My apologies, Pastor,” he said softly.

“I am not lying,” Yeosang explained. “My key has disappeared.” The men grumbled in annoyance. “What is all this noise?” a voice called from the podium. The men and Yeosang turned to find Jonas standing there. “Sorry for the intrusion, Pastor,” your father started. “We’ve come for Hongjoong.”

Jonas looked from the men to Yeosang. “We just want to talk to him,” Abel said. Yeosang turned to glare at him for lying in a holy place. “Talk? By all means, let them talk to him, Pastor Kang,” Jonas said. Yeosang turned to him.

“I do not have a key,” Yeosang answered. “Mine seems to have been misplaced.”

Jonas reached into his own pocket and produced the key. “Use mine,” he said. Yeosang stared at him with a pleading look. “These men are not here to talk to him,” Yeosang explained. “They’ve come to enact what they feel is justice upon a man we are not even certain is guilty!”

Jonas looked from Yeosang to the men who fell silent. “I see,” Jonas said softly. “In that case…” Jonas said, trailing off as he set the key on the podium. Yeosang’s brow furrowed in confusion but before he could speak, something hard hit the back of his head, white hot pain bursting throughout. He cried out in pain, stars blinding his vision as he fell to his knees.

There was a mad dash, shuffling of feet. He barely heard the sound of your father thanking Jonas before his vision went dark and he slumped to the floor, blacking out.

Hongjoong heard a commotion coming from the main room of the church and looked up as a cry of pain rang out, sounding suspiciously like Yeosang. There was a stampeding of heavy footfalls before he heard the lock to his door being unlocked and the door flew open with a loud bang.

His eyes widened as several of the men of the village entered his room and moved towards him. “What is going on?” Hongjoong demanded as they grabbed him. “Be silent, witch!” one of the men said before stuffing a piece of cloth in Hongjoong’s mouth.

“We’ve come to deliver vengeance and rid our village of your filth!”

“Death to the witch!”

The men dragged him from the bed and started pulling him through the door where Hongjoong was met by the smug expression of your father. ‘Of course.’

“Take him to the tree,” your father stated plainly. Hongjoong tried to pull away but the men had a strong hold on him and dragged him down the hall and into the chapel. Hongjoong noticed Yeosang passed out on the floor before looking up towards the podium where Jonas stood.

Hongjoong tried to fight against the hold the men had on him, screaming against his gag, but it was no use, the men dragged him from the church, despite his kicking and struggling against them. The last thing he saw before being dragged out of the church was the smug expression of Jonas, his eyes blacked out and then the doors swung shut.

Yeosang woke up, his head pounding as he tried to get up. He managed to push himself up to his knees and reached up to the spot where he’d been struck which was tender to the touch. He pulled his hand back, thankful to see he was not bleeding.

He looked around the empty room before he came to his senses.

“Hongjoong!”

He got up, stumbling for a moment. He used the wall as support as he made his way down the hall to the room at the end where he found an empty bed. “No,” he murmured, stumbling back into the chapel and over to the door, throwing it open and ambling down the steps. 

As he reached the ground, a fresh wave of pain coursed through him, strong enough to make him retch. He managed to get a grip on himself and made his way through the village, using what he could to keep himself upright and on his feet.

A flash of lightning illuminated the village briefly, followed by a deep rumble of thunder in the distance. A storm was coming.

Maybe if he hurried, he would be able to stop them.

Consciousness came to you slowly. You woke with a heavy head and your limbs still heavy from sleep. You tried to sit up but found you could barely move. This was not the usual grogginess that followed your sleep.

You forced your eyes open, your vision slowly coming back as the ceiling of your room came into view. You blinked a few times, trying to force the sleepiness from your eyes. As the rafters merged, you tried to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

You turned to look out the window and noticed it was pitch black outside. “How long have I been asleep?” you mumbled. You tried to get up on wobbly legs and stumbled towards the door. You stopped by the wardrobe and opened it, grabbing the sack you’d packed.

You didn’t bother being quiet as you wrenched the door open, a loud clap of thunder sounding in the distance. You descended the steps as quickly as you could and stopped, catching sight of your mother sitting in her rocking chair as she mended one of your father’s coats. She looked up, taking sight of the bag in your hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, looking up at you. Taking a deep breath and tightening your grip on the bag you finally put your foot down. “I’m leaving,” you answered. Your mother stared at you for a moment before going back to her mending. “Nonsense,” she replied. “You’re getting married soon. You can’t leave.”

You stared at her incredulously. “What?” you whispered. “You’re not leaving. That’s final.”

You scoffed and started for the door. “Y/N Y/L/N!” your mother shouted and you turned to face her. “I’m an adult,” you snapped. “You may be my mother but you cannot hold me here against my will. I am leaving!”

The front door opened behind you and your father appeared, clothes covered in dirt. You looked at him, taking in his appearance. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, instead addressing your mother. “It is done,” he said, sounding exhausted.

You turned to your mother who lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “It was for the best,” she said in response. You looked between the two. Your father finally noticed you and looked at the bag in your hand. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I’m leaving,” you answered.

Your father let out a cold laugh as he moved to sit in the chair next to your mother. “No you’re not,” he answered. “There’s nowhere for you to go.” You glared at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of staying here, listening to your nonsense! I’m leaving!”

“You really are an ungrateful brat,” your father said, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, taking a step closer.

“We gave you life, kept a roof over your head, clothed you, fed you, taught you, and this is how you repay us?” your father asked. “With contempt and disobedience?”

“I never asked to be born!” you screamed. “I didn’t ask for any of this! You’re my parents! You’re supposed to do those things! That’s the bare minimum!”

“Do not raise your voice at your father!” your mother snapped.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “Fuck both of you.”

Your father got up and advanced on you but you were ready for him. When he tried to hit you, instead you swung your bag at him, hitting him in the side of the head and making him stagger. “I’m not your property or some beast you can beat into submission!” you shouted. “I am a human! A woman! I deserve respect as such and you will not lay another hand on me!”

“Where do you think you’re going to go!?” your mother shouted. “Your lover is dead!”

You froze as you reached the door, hand on the knob. You turned back to look at your mother who had a hand over her mouth. “What did you just say?” you whispered. “The witch is dead,” your father repeated. “We hung him from a tree and buried his body in the woods.”

Your heart sank, heat rising to your face as you tried to hold back tears.

“You’re lying,” you spat. “Yeosang would never allow you to—”

“Jonas gave us his key,” your father interrupted as he got to his feet, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “Here,” he said, his voice void of any emotion as he tossed whatever it was at your feet. “Proof that your precious witch is dead.”

You looked down at your feet, kneeling to pick up the object which turned out to be a necklace, a small gasp escaping you as you recognized the pendant. It was Hongjoong’s. You would know this amulet anywhere.

You looked up at your father who had a smug smile on his face. “Believe it now? Your lover is dead and his soul rotting in Hell where he belongs.”

The anger that had been bubbling inside you reached a boiling point and rage fueled your actions. You dropped the bag and lunged for your father, ducking his attempt to hit you and knocked him to the ground, striking him anywhere you could reach. When your mother tried to stop you, you knocked her aside, grabbed one of her knitting needles and raised it above your head.

“Y/N NO!” your mother screamed. You brought it down, stabbing it into the floor next to your father’s head, panting heavily. You leaned over him. “You try to follow me,” you said in a low tone. “And I won’t hesitate to kill you,” you hissed. “You are not my father. I hope Satan himself rises from Hell and drags you there for what you’ve done.”

You got off him, offering a swift kick to his side before turning to your mother. “And you belong with him. What kind of mother stands aside while her husband beats their child and murders an innocent man. You two deserve each other and I hope you enjoy the fires of Hell.”

Without another word, you headed for the door, stopping to grab your bag, before you wrenched open the door and left, slamming it hard behind you.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

[miraclewoozi]

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.” 

He was right. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort. 

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 

The urge to just… lean in to you. 

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 

He swears. 

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 

Eight seconds later… still nothing. 

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 

I love them. Thank you, you said. 

It’s perfect. 

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late. 

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love. 

With someone who wasn’t him. 

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 

Not enough, but some. 

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 

2.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 

1.

Happy New Year. 

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 

You could do it, his brain tells him. 

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 

The pouting continued. 

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

[physalian]

What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!

I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!

Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:

1. No modern means of communication

Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.

With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.

2. The Monster Allegory

Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.

Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.

What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.

3. Magic Systems!

Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?

Then Fantasy is for you!

There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.

4. Real-World Politics, who?

Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.

Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”

Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.

5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”

Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?

This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.

6. You are in complete control

But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.

It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.

It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.

7. Even if it has been done before, do it again

You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).

But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.

So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.

And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents. 

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside. 

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days. 

**

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit. 

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily. 

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

**

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that. 

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page. 

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up? 

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable. 

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it. 

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure. 

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

**

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left. 

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling. 

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything. 

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil. 

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food." 

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?" 

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect." 

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.  

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

**

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get. 

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky. 

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there." 

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes." 

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier. 

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter. 

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done." 

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you. 

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize. 

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up. 

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you. 

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. 

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. 

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into. 

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him. 

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him. 

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes. 

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different." 

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now. 

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body? 

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it. 

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words." 

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal." 

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost. 

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing. 

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his. 

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting. 

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last. 

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. 

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core. 

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again. 

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair. 

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out. 

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice. 

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this." 

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up. 

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?" 

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded. 

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core. 

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste. 

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud. 

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved. 

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day." 

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him. 

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination. 

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath. 

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that." 

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?" 

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. 

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this. 

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely. 

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you. 

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you. 

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?" 

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name. 

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you. 

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think (maybe some cursing)

𝜗𝜚… authors note , thank you so much for 100 followers!! new driver series coming out soon based on an album ( I'll be making a fic for a diff driver based on each song )

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

the drive there had been relatively calm. it wasn’t awkward though, y/n and lando had known each other for years, despite not talking for the past two . the conversation was laced with nostalgia as they reminisced on his rookie year, when she went to every race and he’d been convinced she was his “lucky charm”

the air outside was warm with a flowy cool breeze, australian autumns were always nice and provided a small comfort to the girl who’d appreciated the weather. 

the club they’d gone to, however, was packed and it felt suffocating. y/n was never the one for clubs, she liked people, she liked dancing and music. but putting them together with a mix of alcohol and drugs never was something she enjoyed. (her brother on the other hand was the opposite)

she’d hung back near the bar slowly sipping on a sprite. she never drank alcohol; it was a personal preference, she hated the feeling of being out of control. lando had picked up drinking since the last time they’d saw each other, he was partying his little heart out with their friends now. 

y/n hung back watching him with a sorta fondness in her eyes, the scene was beautiful to her, romanticizing the true happiness he was experiencing to ignore how claustrophobic she was feeling. and how she’d been picking at the skin around her nails and the pit in her stomach. 

lando seemed to almost hear her cry for help, as he left the dance floor and walked over to her. she assumed to order another drink since he’d only had one. “you alright?”

y/n nodded but her mouth spoke differently, forever honest. “I feel like i‘m suffocating a bit, if i’m honest.” she admitted cringing as soon as she said it.

lando understood, but she knew he would. he helped out his hand, “then shall we?”

she furrowed an eyebrow and with pursed lips her eyes flicked up and down to his hand and then back to him. “shall we what?”

“bail.” 

“you were having fun, I'm a grown woman. if I wanna leave, I will.” y/n reassured guilt filling up her throat.

lando shook his head with a small grin that he always seemed to adorn. “oh c’mon I invited you, I'm here to spend time with you anyway.”

hesitantly the dutch girl took his hand and they hurried out of the bar, met with fresh air at last and a chill of the night. it felt a bit silly but y/n thought about writing a book in this moment, she thought about how she’d described the scene, how the two old friends reconnecting would turn into something more. 

she knew it was only a fantasy, all her books were. picturesque moments painted carefully by her hands, nothing that’d happen in real life. especially to her. she’d been confident in herself but she’d come to terms on how unsuccessful her love life had been. she was twenty-three and hadn’t dated a single person, not one out of the eight billion people on this earth.

so she’d lost hope. lando shouldn’t give her hope, she knew no one would ever follow through with it. she had enough self respect to stop trying to chase false dreams. 

they’d been walking down the street of melbourne for a few minutes now in a comfortable silence though she’d been surprised lando managed to keep his mouth shut this long. the sky was clear, the stars brighter than she’d seen in a while, the streets were practically empty and the air smelt of saltwater. 

“where are you taking me?” y/n asked realizing they’d passed lando’s car a couple minutes back. 

lando looked at her, “do you not trust me?” 

she pretended to think about it for a moment before meeting his gaze which remained on her. “haven't seen you in two years, maybe you've changed.”

he really had. he’d changed so much but somehow not at all, “you definitely have.” lando seemed to backtrack in his mind as his words came out as an insult. “in a good way I mean, I’ve just missed you.”

he missed her. maybe it’d been her chronic loneliness talking but she hadn’t heard those words from anyone in years. she looked down at her feet, a small smile growing on her face. “I missed you too, a lot.” 

“why didn’t you call or text, I swear I would’ve thought you died if not for your instagram.” lando wasn’t mad or at least he didn’t sound it, still y/n was embarrassed there was no reason for her to fall off the face of earth like she did, maybe she was just destined to be lonely and needed to prove she could do it. maybe that didn’t need two years to prove, she’d been proving it for twenty-two years.

“I’m not mad, I’m just happy to see my idol again.” he bumped into her shoulder with a smirk.

y/n giggled looking at him unconvinced. “your idol?” 

lando nodded, “I'm your biggest fan, don't you know?”  

“mhm of course I knew, reading august in two days must’ve been a new record.” the day lando commented on her instagram post saying he’d pre-ordered her book, she’d gone to her records of past books. he’d bought every book she’d ever read. every single one. even the special edition covers she’d published. 

never had anyone done a gesture like that for her. sure it might’ve been just because he’d like to read, but y/n wanted to live in a bliss where he did it for her.

watching the view change in front of her as they continued down the street she recognized where they’d been walking to. the beach. once they’d reached the place where the concrete ended and sand started. they both took off their shoes, lando grabbed hers holding them for her. 

the sand was soft to the touch, the beach was empty now and spanned for miles. waves crashed down onto the sand in a nice pattern of noise. it was pitch black except the moon which provided a nice soft light into the water far out. the breeze felt stronger here, y/n crossed her arms struggling to provide warmth to her bare arms.

the pair had taken a seat on the slightly wet part of the sand closer to the water. “it’s beautiful out here.” she commented. “like some shit you’d see in a rom-com.” a genre she knew too much about. 

“is this the part where I tell you you’re the only girl I’ve taken here?” lando said looking at her she could hear the smirk in his voice. 

y/n let out a laugh. “is this the part where I act surprised because you’re known for being such a ‘player’?” 

“I’ll do the whole yawn and arm over shoulder thing if you want, make this really realistic.” lando took off his black hoodie revealing a matching black t-shirt underneath. “here by the way.” 

he handed her the hoodie, “oh I’m fine.” she very clearly was not. she wanted to tell him to stop her some kind of hope, to not make her fall for him as she was now. 

“you so are not, you’re shivering and it’s freaking me out.” y/n wasn’t sure if she should’ve said thank you or been offended by ‘freaking him out’. she took the hoodie, it was soft fabric and smelt of his cologne, which smelt expensive. 

she put the hoodie on, relieved by the warmth she suddenly felt. after a while of chatting and laughing about stupid things like they used to, y/n comfortably rested her head on his shoulder, eyes feeling the need to shut but they wouldn’t like she wanted to be conscious for every moment of this, knowing she’d miss his comfort as soon as it was gone. 

“do you have to wake up for your flight early tomorrow.” he asked, his voice soft and he cautiously started to run his fingers through her hair, until she’d relaxed more and he was more confident with his innocent touches.

“mhm.” she mumbled. 

he carefully brushed the few knots in her hair, “should I take you home then it's getting late.” 

everything in her body was telling her to stay no, to stay there, she never wanted to leave. but her mind spoke differently, she had a book signing tomorrow she couldn’t miss her flight nor could she be too tired. she replied again, more disappointed than before, “yeah probably.”

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 856,756 others

yourusername last night in aus was well spent 🫶

tagged | @landonorris

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user34 OH the lando & y/n girlies are screaming rn

yourbestfriend oh my god you finally went outside 🤯

landonorris gotta make sure she gets some vitamin c every once in awhile

user54 i just know twt is going crazy

landonorris hope to see you in japan 🙏🫣

yourusername we’ll see 🤭

maxverstappen as a redbull fan I hope

user89 we are all living for your active era rn

user21 all her f1 posts having lando in them is making me cry they’re everything to me

user54 I’m getting 2019 lando y/n flashbacks

your bsf 🫶 sent you a text!

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted a story

seen by maxverstappen, lilymhe, davidmalukas and 645,765 others

landonorris replied to your story

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ landonorris posted

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 972,342 others

landonorris another race done onto japan we go 😉 ( featuring special guest my celebrity crush )

tagged | @landonorris

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yourusername omg I love when I see my fan pages in the wild 🤭

landonorris ok babe don’t push it 🥰

user53 babe?!!!

user76 they’re so in love it hurts

user32 getting his first podium of the season while she’s there she really is his lucky charm

user98 HIS LUCKY CHARM 😭😭

mclaren y/n should come to more races best race result so far nice job!

user43 even mclaren loves them 🙏

user58 their actually my faves

carlossainz I think I’m your idol actually 🤔

landonorris whatever helps you sleep at night

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx

[rinsoap]

THEM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

includes : ken ryuguji and baji keisuke. they are in their late teens/early 20s.

note : UR WELCOME TO THE FOURTEEN REQS IN MY INBOX BEGGING FOR BAJI CONTENT! i was gonna write mitsuya and mikey but i got tired lol

ken ryuguji as your boyfriend.

he loves taking you out on his bike. he likes how you hold him so tightly, and he likes the feeling of your cheek pressed against his back. when you first asked him, he was a little wary at first because he was kind of scared you might get hurt, but who was he to say no to his girl?

the girls at the brothel fucking love you. you exchange makeup tips and self care remedies, they pinch your cheek and tell you how cute you are. "hi love, what are you doing here looking so pretty!? ain't she pretty, kenny? yeahh he thinks so, look at him, he's blushing" "'course i think she's pretty, i'm the one dating her" oh and they love to give you life advice too; men, money, independance, all of it. draken is embarassed by how they act, but you think it's sweet.

he hates being posted to your socials. he's cool with it if his face isn't in the picture, but he values his privacy. his own social media presence is practically nonexistent, other than one highlight with one story from your birthday of you holding flowers he got you. the song he posted to you is my girl by the temptations.

though he likes his privacy, he does like pda. not intense pda, it's not like y'all have your tongues down each other's throats in public or anything, but he likes a lil kiss here n there. his arm around your waist, or your fingers intertwined with his. a kiss on your shoulder, and always one on your lips before you part. and while he doesn’t typically like to make a scene, when he misses you its a whole different story. he loves when you run to him when you see him after being away from each other for far too long, throwing your arms around his shoulders and his wrap around your waist to spin you around, peppering the side of your face with kisses as you tell him how much you missed him through giggles. "missed you too, angel," a kiss on your jaw. "i'm sorry i've been so busy lately," a kiss on your cheek "'m gonna make it up to you though, i promise." a kiss on your lips. yeah, it's that kind of pda.

he will call you so many pet names, it's not even funny. they're out of his mouth before he even realizes it. it's not like he hides his loving side exactly, it's just that with you, he gets to be a whole other type of gushy. his friends make fun of him whenever they get a glimpse of his softer side when he speaks to you, but he does not care!!! he'll never stop calling you his pretty princess or kissing your cheek or holding all your bags when you go shopping just because his friends think he's whipped. he would happily admit that they're right!!

baji keisuke as your boyfriend.

he may come across as cold, but make no mistake, physical touch is his love language. he always finds himself gravitating to touching you, even in public. whether he's holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder or tracing hearts and stars into the skin of your thigh, he just wants to touch you!!! in private, it is so much more egregious. he'll be on top of you, attacking you with kisses, hands roaming over your skin. he loves when you sleep over because then he can extend his time to cuddle with you. he likes little spoon and big spoon equally, he just wants SOMEONE to be held!!!

he has and will fight someone for you, absolutely no question. he doesn't exactly get jealous, you express how much you love him enough for him to have interalized it, but he does let a threat or two slip out when a man's flirting with you right in front of him. when someone is being creepy to you, yes, he has been known to throw a couple punches. he'll stop when you ask!! its not like he's batshit!!!! when he's finished, you tend to his wounds. muttering about how stupid he is but giving him a kiss to his temple.

he knows how obsessed you are with his hair. he watches you from the corner of his eye, staring lip tucked between your teeth as he puts it up. he complains, but he secretly loves it. "man you treat me like some slut" "true i'm just using you for your hair. one day you'll wake up bald and i'll be half way across the country with a ziploc bag full of your beautiful hair" "i hate you" he loves lying on top of you, cheek pressed against your chest as you run your fingers through your hair. he always ends up mumbling how much he loves you when your fingers find their way into his hair. he also lets you play around with different hairstyles too! his favourite will always be a half up half down moment :p

he calls you bro more than actual pet names tbh. generally, he doesn't use a lot of pet names because he'd rather call you by your name, but when he's being extra sweet or when he's tired, he'll use them. you love how cute he is when he's about to fall asleep, he starts going on and on about how much he loves his pretty girl. "soo sweet to me, love you soo much... my lovely girl... my love" he'll whisper into your neck, not even knowing exactly what he's saying himself as his eyes slowly flutter shut. when he's in a good mood he'll greet you with a lil "hey baby" or "hello perfect beautiful girlfriend" bc he's annoying like that 😞

he can ALWAYS tell when something is wrong. a clench of your jaw or a slight falter in your eyes, he immediately knows. he'll ask about it as soon as he picks up on it. he's surprisingly very good at comforting. he'll listen as long as you need him to, he'll give you a temple kiss, a gesture that quickly became a sign of love and understanding in your relationship. he'll kiss you on one, then the other, and add "to ease your mind." and you laugh because it's corny, and he rolls his eyes and claims he's never doing a nice thing for you again, but he grabs your hand to take you out to eat because he knows food is the best comfort.

[cosmoeticss]

Haven’t I Been Good to You? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (18+)

my masterlist

Words: 2K

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Neice!Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), good old fashioned targcest, p n v, overall bad writing because I haven’t properly written in so long

Note: Reader is Rhaenyra’s heir/eldest daughter and the argument takes place after the dinner scene. I tried not to use any physical descriptors but those gorgeous targaryen platinum locks so I hope thats okay and you enjoy. Literally crawling in my skin right now because I’m about to post this, existing is an embarrassment, if you see this ily thank you for reading.

part two

Aemond was anything but cooled off when he returned to his marital chambers that night. He bound into the room, his displeasure from the night clear in his body language and his labored breathing. His wife sat stoically in front of her vanity, clad in only her night dress as she combed through the length of her silky, silver curls.

Aemond stared her down in disbelief as she barely acknowledged him. How could she honestly be angry with him? It was her bastard brothers who started the disagreement, who started the rivalry to begin with, who teased him their whole childhood and took his eye that fateful night on Driftmark. And here she sat, his wife, shoulders back and proud and angry with him.

Gods, she was beautiful when she was angry. If he didn't know her so well he wouldn't be able to tell. She was so serene and regal and surprisingly calm when she was upset. He often thought of how opposite they were in that sense. He thought of how hot tempered and quick to snap he was, and how she thought everything through before it slipped from her pretty lips. He envied this about her, and yet it was what he had loved most about her as well.

Aemond couldn't help it. He broke first. "Where are the children?" He inquired, steadying himself to the best of his ability.

She hardly gave him the time of day as she answered, her eyes not leaving her own reflection. "I've settled them into bed,” she said.

The Prince furrowed his brow. "Did you not think that I would wish to bid goodnight to my sons?"

"The hour is late. They've had their fill of excitement for the day, Husband."

Husband. Not her usual 'my dearest love,' not 'my darling.' He was in trouble far more than what he had bargained for. He eyed her in disbelief. "You're truly taking their side?"

She finally turned then, vast (e/c) eyes meeting his violet one. "There is no side to be taken, Aemond,” he hated her formality when they argued, "We are a family. We're supposed to be on the same side. Did you see how pleased the poor King was to see everyone finally getting along? Our mothers finally found some common ground after all of these years and yet you ruined an otherwise pleasant night with your wounded pride."

"My wounded pride?" he spat harshly, raising his voice at her. "Did you not see the way your beloved brother laughed as they sat a roasted pig in front of me? Or have you forgotten the torment I was subject to as a child? What do you expect to me to do, (Y/N)?"

She stood then, the silk of her long night dress accentuating her rounded stomach. "You are to be the Royal Consort one day, you will be King!" she scolded him sternly, silencing him. "I expect you to be the bigger person. I expect you to act with dignity and not meet the teasing of a child with the ferocity that you did tonight!"

Aemond softened at this, turning away from her to face the burning embers of the hearth. He did not retaliate, only moving to sit in a chair placed in front of it. He gripped the arms of the seat trying to calm himself, breathing deeply.

His wife watched him carefully. "It is not fair. I know it isn't," she swallowed, her eyes glazed over as she did. "I know that it angers you that I love my family after all my brothers have done to you, after what Lucerys has taken from you and I am sorry, Aemond. I truly am."

He was silent still, eye glued to the flames before him as if they were the most important thing in the room. "I cannot keep atoning for crimes I did not commit," her voice was almost pleading as she stepped closer to him then, slowly, testing the water carefully. When he did not retaliate,  she kneeled on the floor in front of him. "I know that you would not have chosen me to wed on our own, dear husband."

Her hands reached out to take his, and he allowed it, watching down the bridge of his nose as his wife gently held his hands in her small ones and brought them both to her lips, kissing them tenderly and repeatedly. "We have been honest and good to each other in these near seven years as man and wife, though," she stated, eyes wide and pleading as she rested her chin on his knee. "Have I not been a good to you?"

"You have," Aemond's voice cracked, his eyes fluttering shut at her soft inquisition. He breathed deeply, removing one of his hands from hers and carding it through her beautiful hair. “My love.”

"I have given you my body, mind, and soul. I have given you my virtue, and my fidelity. My heart has only ever belonged to you," she whispered as her husbands tensity began to dissolve between her nimble fingers and lips. Her soft kisses continuing slowly up his arm. "I have bore you two beautiful, healthy boys. Boys that will be Kings and Warriors one day, and I carry another inside me."

The air was stolen from her as Aemond halted her pecking and surged forward, lifting her swiftly from the stone floor to straddle his lap as if she weighed nothing. She gazed down at him, moving to gently remove her husbands eye patch. He hadn't minded the action for years now, as it was a bother to wear and his pretty wife had never judged his appearance or what he had lost all those years ago. She set the patch on the end table next to them, not taking her eyes off of him as her hands slid up his shoulders and found their home at his jawline. Her thumbs moved in slow circles on his face.

"I have given you power," he whimpered at this, gripping the soft meat of her thighs. "Outside the walls of this chamber you are my equal, and one day we will rule the Seven Kingdoms side by side, however we see fit to."

"Yes," he groaned hoarsely, continuing his kneading at her thighs, sitting up to press his lips to her throat, leaving hot opened mouth kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts as he detangled the strings of her shift, baring her supple chest to him.

"You would like that wouldn't you, My King?" Aemond growled in agreement, continuing his ravishing as she slipped her fingers to the base of his neck and weaved them into his hair, gripping it tightly. "And in this room, you will rule me as you see fit."

"If that we're true then I would bound you to our bed, little wife," he sank his teeth delicately into the flesh of her breast, tongue swirling against the skin, causing her head to snap back in pleasure and a breathy moan to fall from her lips. "You would never leave these chambers. Who would be left to rule if I'm buried inside this sweet cunt for all of our lives, hmm?"

"You have many years before we are crowned for me to ride you, my dragon. And I plan to mount you morning and night,” she grinding into him, their lips meeting finally in a messy kiss. "Surely you'll tire of bedding me by then."

"Never," he pressed his forehead to hers, their breathing hot as he moved a large slender hand to cover her swollen stomach. "I enjoy no sight more than your belly swollen with our children."

She rutted her hips against his once more, her weeping cunt begging for friction. "Please, my dearest love"

"I wonder how the realm would feel if they knew the truth of their precious Princess?" he smirked as she fucked herself on his covered length. "If they knew how she begged for me each night? How wet she gets without me even having to touch her."

"Aemond, please," she wined.

"You wish to ride your dragon, my Queen?" he began hiking up her night dress to rest on her hips.

She panted at his movements, so tender, so achingly slow and teasing. "Yes," she whimpered.

He cocked his brow at her. "What's stopping you? Claim me then."

She didn't have to be told twice. Her trembling hands moved frantically to the strings of his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down to his thighs. He hissed as she took his length into her hand, stroking it sweetly before he lifted her hips and guided her to sink down on him. Her eyes screwed shut, crying out in pleasure as she adjusted to the size of him. Neither of them moved for a moment, their breathing tense and labored.

Aemond brushed a lock of hair out of his wife's face, her forehead falling to meet his as he cradled her head with his hand. "Alright?"

"Mhm," she hummed needily, bracing herself as her hands dropped to his shoulders. Aemond's free hand moved to cover the swell of her stomach, a lazy grin forming on his lips, before finding it's way to her hips once more, helping to roll them against his. Aemond cursed, his jaw going slack as his wife unraveled above him. Once she found her footing, she picked up her pace, bobbing up and down steadily, her finger nails curling into his shoulders. His hips snapped up to meet hers, and she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Something came undone in him at the sound, his hands were everywhere then, cupping her full breasts, wrapped around her throat, sinking into her thighs. He was pawing at her like she would disappear if he let go for one second, grunting like a wild animal as he rutted against her.

"So good," he captured her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth clashing. "So pretty and all mine."

She babbled something nonsensical in appraisal, her heat clenching around his cock as he worshipped her, their movements becoming sloppy as they approached their peak. "I'm so close."

"Say you love me," he demanded, fingers making their way to her pearl as he toyed with it, causing her to squeak at the touch. "Tell me again that you're mine and mine alone."

"Please," she panted, whimpering as he fucked into her relentlessly, hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."

Aemond's fingers were torture, slow and taunting. "Say it." "I'm yours," she cried out. "Only yours. Please--"

"Let go," he permitted, following close behind as she toppled over the edge, back arching and eyes rolling back as she was overcome with pleasure. They were still, chests heaving and hot breath mingling as they came down from their shared orgasm. Her nimble fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it away from his sweat soaked neck. He fell back into the chair, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "I would've chosen you," he broke the silence after a long moment. She lifted her head slightly to look him in the eye, confusion evident as if she had not registered what he said. "When you said that you weren't the wife I would have chosen for myself. If I had been presented with a choice, I would've chosen you."

Her gaze softened at the sincerity and raw emotion flickering in his eye. "Then choose me now. Choose our family," she gripped his shirt tightly, pleading with him. "Love me more than you hate them."

Aemond sighed deeply, covering her hands with his. "I do love you. More than anything."

"Then promise you will try." Neither wanted to admit what they both knew, that even if he did, it was too late. The King's health dwindled more and more by the day, and the wounds cut between the Greens and the Blacks were too old and too deep for even their love to heal. The time was coming where they would have to choose. War was looming and their last chance at peace had slipped through their fingers like flowing water. So they didn't, and chose in silence to carry on pretending while they still could.

Aemond cupped her face gently, and pulled her into a soft, sweet kiss. "I promise," he whispered, the sweetest of lies, and he met her lips again in a more fervent kiss.

And she let herself hope, she let her self believe, just a little while longer.

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s interrogation II

Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo

Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.

Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!

All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.

I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.

Enzo Berkshire

Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.

Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”

Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. “He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.

Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.

Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.

“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!

“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”

Blaise Zabini

Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”

Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”

“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.

“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.

“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.

“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”

Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.

“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.

“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.

“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.

“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.

Draco Malfoy

“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.

“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.

“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.

“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”

“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.

Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.

“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”

“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.

“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.

Theodore Nott

Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.

”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”

Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”

”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”

“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.

“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”

Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.

Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!

[ittsybittsybunny]

ATLA Live Action Series Review:

The Good

Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!

Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.

Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!

Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.

Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.

Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!

Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.

Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.

The Bad

Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?

Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.

Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.

Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.

Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.

Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.

Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.

Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.

Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.

Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.

Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.

The Ugly

Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.

Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!

The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.

-----

TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.

Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.

[noemilivv]

hey! i love your stuff and think its pretty cool

just wondering if i could get a lucifer fic where the reader is like, adams sister? (lets ignore the lore for a sec) and shes like him but toned down a tad and less straight up bad. and they kinda date in heaven a bit before he falls and then shes sad and ends up falling aswell eventually and he gets all blushy flustered when he sees her again in charlies hotel and charlies just really confused

also maybe a quick flash to him mocking adam abt how he not only stole both his wives but also his sister

sorry if this is written badly i never send requests :>

this is actually rlly cute wtf

anyway, yes ofc i can write it for you, here you go!!

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Sexual References (No Smut)

“Mr. Took-Yo-Sis!”

Lucifer x Adam’s Sister!Reader

Lucifer had his fair share of significant others in his life, but there was only one that he truly loved, Y/N.

They had a relationship during his time in Heaven, which was eventually cut short as he fell not long after.

Y/N’s brother, Adam, didn’t like Lucifer, in the slightest. Lucifer had been with two of Adam’s wives, and he was not happy about that.

Unbeknownst to Lucifer, his beloved, had fallen not long after he did. But that was about to change.

Charlie, your first friend in Hell, was getting her rehabilitation hotel set up for her fathers arrival, various decor was hung, and (burnt) cookies were baked.

Charlie stood next to the door before taking a deep breath, “Okay everyone.” She said, getting ready to open the door, “It’s showtime!”

“Charlie!” A man’s voice says, you couldn’t see him, but his voice rings a bell.

“Hey da-” The blonde man runs up to his daughter, and squeezes her tightly, you finally got a good look at his face and… holy shit, it’s Lucifer.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” He exclaimed in a babyish tone, yep, Lucifer. “It’s uh, good to see you too, dad!”

Luci let’s go of his daughter after a moment, Charlie steps to the side, presenting to her father “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” She says, as confetti pops out of two of Pentious’ non working canons.

“Wait…” Lucifer murmurs, before his eyes widen.

“Y/N?!”

You grin, ‘Fuck yes, he remembers me!’ You think to yourself.

“Hi again, Luci.” You say, a wide smile present on your face, as you approach him.

You both smile at eachother, before some incoherent, awkward mumbles are exchanged, ‘Shit, I did not think this through.’ You thought. Then both just settle on giving eachother an awkward but friendly hug.

“Uh… Dad?” Charlie said, focusing both of your attentions to her, “You know eachother?”

“Oh, me and dear Y/N here go way back, we used to fling around if ya know what I mean!” Luci said, pointing finger guns at his daughter awkwardly, as she gave an awkward yet also disturbed smile, as your face flushes a bright red.

Vaggie steps forward. “Wait. Y/N? Like the Adam’s sister Y/N?” She asks, eyeing you in shock, “Heh. Yeah. A lot has happened since I fell.” You say bashfully.

Everyone kinda stares for a moment, sort of in shock, they had no idea you had a relationship, let alone you fell from Heaven, let alone you were Adam’s sister.

“So uh…” Lucifer starts awkwardly. “Who’s up for pancakes?”

Bonus Scene -

“So this is what you’ve been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you’ve let yourself go.” Lucifer jokes, as Adam attempted to toss him around. “You judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of creation!” Adam says, flying after him.

“Well you’re first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer her.” He said, putting a ‘V’ to his lips with his fingers. “Or the second.” He spoke, continuing to fly. “Or Hell, even your sister!” He said laughing, thrusting his hips back and forth, referring to what they’ve done in bed. “Bicka-chow-cho!”

“I will fucking end you!” You heard your brother scream to your (ex)boyfriend.