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notnctu · 3 years

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jaehyun: the charming

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, nicknames, dirty talking, possessiveness, rough sex, praise kink, oral (giving and receiving), spitting, choking, unprotected (wrap up yall!!) ☆ WC: 4.1k ☆ SYNOPSIS: A harmless game of Truth Or Dare with your housemates reveals Jaehyun’s true desires and has him eyeing you the entire night.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: this is the only part for jaehyun ! sorry for the long wait,, i started this during my writing hiatus and did not have much motivation to finish it since its been really difficult to write smut lately :/ regardless, i hope you can leave me some feedback if you liked it <3 doyoung’s part will be the next in the series once i get to it !

“If you could kiss anyone in this room right now, who would it be?” Johnny beckons his drink to Jaehyun, who blinks at him with knitted eyebrows and a quizzical expression.

It’s one of those rare nights where all your housemates are home and Doyoung is actually out of his room to participate in everyone’s foolishness. All six of you sit comfortably in the living room as the fifth round of Truth or Dare commences.

You share the large couch with Jaemin and Haechan, sandwiching you in between them happily. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Johnny are seated in their own respective chairs that circle the tiny coffee table in the center.

And if your housemates could be any more distracting, Jaehyun sits laid-back without a shirt on and grey sweatpants that fit loosely on his legs, manspreading as if he has all the space in the world. His soft hair falls messily around his face from constantly running his hands through it and his abs flex without him needing to do much.

It’s hard not to stare, but no one in the room calls you out for doing so. They’ve all stared at you plenty enough times on other occasions, so it would be hard for any of them to give you a counterargument. Jaehyun simply looks good enough to devour, and he can say the same for you as he steals sly glances your way.

Every subtle connection of smoldering eye contact sends a thrill down your core, and the smirk paired with his dotted dimple has you swooning for him over and over. Jaehyun knows every way to drive you wild without needing to say or touch you.

It’s unbelievable how that man has only allowed you to see his intimacy once with the way he whistles whenever you walk down the stairs in a cute outfit or how often he compliments your butt just for the pure satisfaction of you having one. Despite having the highest body count in the entire house, he has great self control and never comes off as being too needy.

And every time he is needy, he already has another girl in his room to satisfy him. So, this never gave you another opportunity to sleep with him as much as you wanted to. If you weren’t so bashful, you might’ve had enough courage to just walk into his room and ask.

Nonetheless, here you both are: sitting across from each other during a slowly escalating game of Truth or Dare and eyeing each other every chance you can get.

“Shouldn’t you ask y/n that question?” Jaehyun mumbles, finding Johnny’s question rather ridiculous since the ratio in the room is 1 girl to 5 guys and finds no curiosity to know how bad of a kisser the rest of his housemates are. “I think you’d rather know her answer than mine.”

You clear your throat when every attention is drawn toward you, expecting you to give a truthful response when it isn’t even your turn. “What if I didn’t pick truth?”

“You want a dare?” Jaemin rests a hand on your bare thigh and turns delightfully toward you with a dark mischievous gleam in his eye.

Gulping, you try your best to diffuse the situation. “It’s not my turn.”

“I’ll give my turn to you.” Jaehyun smiles and proceeds to gesture toward you to speak.

Bewildered, you’re looking to Doyoung to protest about such unfair grounds of switching the rules. However, he doesn’t say a word, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal. “You’re all unbelievable.” You scoff sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s just a friendly game. Everyone wants you to go.” Haechan clicks his tongue out of impatience, the anticipation practically suffocating the whole house.

“Ask me when it’s my turn.” You stand your ground and send Jaehyun a quick glare.

The tension drops instantly from the stiff atmosphere. Haechan’s groan erupts beside you as he sits back against the couch with his arms crossed.

“Okay, buttercup. I’ll answer Johnny’s ridiculous question, but know that I have a good one for you.” Jaehyun leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together loosely. “I’d kiss y/n.”

Your breath hitches, but no one else is actually surprised by his answer. “Yeah, I’d kiss y/n too if this was my selection pool.” Doyoung remarks with a roll in his eyes.

“I mean,” Jaehyun sits back coolly in his chair, hands stretched behind his head and every muscle flexed in view. Every movement has your mouth watering at his impressive body on display. “Even if we were playing with other people, I’d still choose y/n.” A dimple smile causes your heart to beat rapidly.

Johnny scoffs, “if we circled up all your flings, you’d still choose y/n?”

Jaehyun ponders the hypothetical for a second, but his eyes land back on yours and every hesitation disappears. “Yeah. She has the softest lips.” He says, very matter of fact.

Your fingers unconsciously graze against your lips briefly, before you clear your throat and shake away the power of his arousing words. “Okay, okay. Let’s move on?”

“Okay, y/n. Truth or Dare?” Jaehyun picks this open opportunity to bring the attention back to you. Your housemates wait patiently for your choice, with eyebrows raised in the thick tension that this simple game has built up.

With shifty eyes and a dry throat, you mutter. “Dare.”

There is a notable sparkle in Jaehyun’s dark lustful orbs. “I dare you to kiss the person that you think is the hottest in this room.”

“Well, it would be difficult to kiss myself.” Rolling your eyes, the edge in your tone is enough to make the rest of them snicker.

“I’m done after this round. It’s always the weirdest twists whenever we play games like this together.” Doyoung crosses his arms, throwing a small fit at the request.

Johnny smirks, “because you know y/n wouldn’t kiss you?”

Doyoung’s mouth opens to protest, but he falls short of a defensive response. He takes his defeat and slumps back against the chair, pouty and grumpy. “Just get it over with and kiss Jaehyun.”

With a turn of events, you get up from your spot on the couch. Jaehyun follows your every move, your stare never leaving his own. Like a lost puppy, you lead him into thinking the kiss would be for him. However, you lean forward and hold Doyoung’s chin gently, planting a soft kiss on the equally shocked boy.

“I think Doyoung is the hottest because he treats me with the most chivalry.” The sweetness that taints your mocking words has Doyoung turning red and Jaehyun turning into stone. The charming smile that lights up your darkest parts is gone, and Jaehyun blinks back at you with a tight jaw.

Jaemin and Haechan read the room too well, excusing themselves before the tension reaches its peak. Doyoung gulps, glancing between you and Jaehyun, and awkwardly makes his way back to his room. Johnny chuckles at the abrupt end of the night, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly before also heading up to bed.

Every next move is crucial. With your weight barred on your left leg, you cross your arms with as much attitude as you can to push Jaehyun’s buttons further. “Jaehyun, if you really wanted a kiss, you could just ask me without wasting a turn.”

“Where’s the fun in that, buttercup? You clearly like testing your limits.” His voice drops at the end of his sentence. Jaehyun stands up, approaching you slowly. “But if you want my attention, you could just ask me without trying to make me jealous.”

His boldness catches you off guard, leaving you a bit speechless to formulate a proper explanation. Your hesitation gets caught in your throat when Jaehyun lightly places his hand on your waist. “It’s late, we should probably get to bed.” His raspy baritone cadence rumbles your chest.

Fingers graze his arm softly, but he pulls away before you can get a hold of him. “Are you actually going to sleep?”

Jaehyun walks to the bottom of the staircase, motioning you to walk first. “No, I’ll be up thinking about you.” A smirk finishes his sensual taunt and you cautiously head up the stairs.

He follows directly after you and a whistle escapes his lips. “Have I given you your daily ass compliment yet?”

“Got one this morning.” With each step, Jaehyun is quick to match.

“Well, you look amazing everyday.” He meets you at the top of the steps and when you’re ready to part back into your room, he stops you. “Where’s my kiss goodnight, baby?”

You can’t possibly count the numerous times you’ve rolled your eyes being around him. “In my room, if you dare wish to enter.” Though your statement was clearly sarcastic, Jaehyun raises an questionable eyebrow.

“I’ll only come if you let me in.” His innocent eyes do not match his sinister tone and his hidden innuendos.

“I guess I always go into your room, it would be nice to have a change.” Taking his hand, you lead him down the hallway. The doors of your other housemates are oddly closed, but you figured they wanted some privacy. His warm hand feels rough against your palm and your heart drums as you two inch closer to your bedroom.

Jaehyun gently closes your door and examines your room as if he’s never been inside. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say, dropping his hand and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Do you leave your underwear drawer open for all your friends to see?” He snickers, his pinky holding your special red lace panties up in the air. Your eyes go wide as you quickly yank the material out of his possession and shove the cabinet closed.

“I wouldn’t have figured you were the nosey type.” You grumble, but he takes this close proximity to pull you into his bare chest. His firm hand gives your ass a soft squeeze.

“It was quite obviously on display.” His dark whisper sends a chill down your spine and butterflies to swirl in the pit of your core. The faint smell of his body wash suffocates you all around and his sultry stare has you melting in his hands. It is so difficult to resist him, you want everything that is Jung Jaehyun.

Your words are quite possibly caught in your throat, but the hesitation does not show in your expression. Lightly, your fingertips trace the outline of his biceps and his dark stare follows every drag. Admittedly, Jaehyun will find any excuse to grab your attention. Call him possessive for no good reason, but something inside him bubbles with envy whenever your other housemates even leave a lingering stare.

Although he’s not the type to be vocal about it, his facial expressions speak volumes. May it be his competitive nature, but he can’t let the others have you. You have unknowingly become off-limits to the rest, but frankly, you don’t care all too much. Your prize is already in front of you.

“Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait all night again?” With every will, you try your best to control the nervous tremble in your bold rhetorical question.

Jaehyun wastes no more time; soft lips crash into your own and you feel like you’re floating. Only he can make you feel this way. Hands in hair, the tug on his fresh locks has him moaning through the kiss. Jaehyun loses himself in you, rubbing his semi-hard cock against your thigh and gripping your ass harshly in his hand.

Every drip of saliva is swapped in the mess of your connected mouths and you’re reminded of how rough this man enjoys to be. Your knees buckle at the thought of him and Jaehyun is quick to hold you up, placing you strategically at the end of your bed.

Pulling away, he stands in front of you with the largest dick print against his sweatpants, along with a small wet spot. There are no bashful words exchanged as the room is filled with heavy breathing and sultry looks. Jaehyun guides your hand to his waistband, silently waiting for you to free him.

Looking up at your beautiful boy, the neediness of release almost ruins his perfect charming look. Hair is tousled wildly across his eyes and his bottom lip escapes underneath the top row of his pearly teeth. He just looks so fucked out already, you can’t imagine how much he was holding back earlier.

You pull down enough of his pants for his dick to spring up right in front of you, not expecting the lack of underwear. Your small gasp cause him to chuckle, pushing the back of your head forward toward his hard cock. “Surprised?”

“You weren’t wearing underwear the entire night?” You question him as your hands cup his balls. A sharp intake of breath is his only response before he can compose himself.

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun stutters, “Like you were?” He throws his head back when your warm tongue flicks against his throbbing red tip. Every vein in his arm and neck pops on display as he grabs a hold of your hair.

“You wouldn’t know.” You snicker, running your tongue up and down his shaft. Jaehyun looks back down at your piercing eyes and his dick right above your cheek.

A smirk grows devilishly, “I’m about to find out.” Pushing your shoulder back gently, your back lands comfortably on the mattress. Your heart is racing as Jaehyun gets down on his knees, situating himself in between your open legs.

“May I?” He asks, warm hands on your inner thighs as he patiently waits for your answer.

“Yes.” Jaehyun pulls your shorts down to reveal your favorite comfort cotton panties that have faded from their original color. Naturally, you grow embarrassed and quickly slap your legs closed before Jaehyun can process.

He blinks at you questionably, quite taken aback by the abrupt motion. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t completely expecting to sleep with anyone tonight. I’m not quite prepared down there.” Your gaze drops and you anxiously fist your sheets in your sweaty hands.

Jaehyun nods, understanding your implications. “I don’t care about those things. You are…” landing a quick peck on your bare knee, he rubs reassuring circles with his thumb. “.... the prettiest baby ever. And if you’d let me, buttercup, I want to make you feel good.”

He has always been suave with his words, as if he knows the handbook to get butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slowly, your legs open back up before him and the slightest groan rumbles from his throat.

The wet patch on your panties is hard to ignore and he’s mesmerized, to say the least. He peels down your underwear and uses his thumb to spread your lips. Leaning forward, Jaehyun lightly licks at your erect clit and your twitch in response is enough to feed into his ego.

He dives hungrily, eating you out until your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back is arching off of the bed. He flattens his tongue against you, pushing in and out of your dripping hole in a rhythmic motion. His nose is deep in your skin, intoxicated by your arousal, and his eyes are drinking up your uncontrollable reactions.

It’s as if electricity shocks through your lower half. The pleasure that comes with every lick and sweet suckle has you panting for more. His name echoes from your tender lips while Jaehyun inserts two fingers to stretch you out. The initial ache subsides into an indescribable pleasure; it’s the feeling of being full of anything mixing with the sensitivity of tongue against clit that has you practically on the verge of release.

Jaehyun isn’t going to give it to you that easily. The moment your moans grow bolder, your legs begin to shake, your hand putting a little more pressure on his head, he pulls away and gets up. A desperate sigh crushes your chest as the build up leads to dissatisfaction. Jaehyun wipes his chin with the back of his hand, his two fingers glistening before being shoved into your own mouth.

“That’s my good girl, give yourself a taste.” His hot words cause you to flood a bit more, the feeling of wetness pooling at your core. However, you two toy each other with no end as he is provoked by the way your tongue sensually swirls around his digits and how your hips keep squirming closer to the edge. “How badly do you want to get fucked?”

His firm hand holds your moving hips into the bed and you’re aching to be filled with his dick. He’s so hard that it slaps against his abdomen, red tip and spewing precum. Nonetheless, his self restraint is quite strong as he notices the defeat in your expression. Enough teasing, your body wants him endlessly.

“Jaehyun, I want you to give me all that you got.” At the end of your request, he enters you slowly with a breathy moan. The stretch is much more than his two fingers, causing you to squirm and wiggle. Inch by inch, Jaehyun fills you to your brim and pauses for you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, it’s been awhile since we’ve slept together. I almost forgot how tight you are.” How could this man possibly smile with so much innocence while saying such foul things? The next action causes you to go a bit dizzy as he spits down at your clit and rubs it lovingly with his thumb. You practically see stars on your mundane ceiling.

He starts moving his hips, deep long thrusts pulling out to only sharply fill you up again. Jaehyun is relentless as every thrust forward has you moving more and more up the bed. Your legs are pressed against your chest, folding you over to hit your sweet spot. When his tip grazes upon the greatest feeling ever, your grip on the sheets grows tighter and he’s smirking at how your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy and shock.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.” He pants, moving faster than before. “My baby hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, has she?”

You’re at a loss for words at every drag and push. Regardless of you wanting to speak, no words seem to make its way out. Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, dark grin and a menacing taunt in his low voice. A chuckle begins his sentence, “I know… it’s hard to talk when you feel so good right, buttercup? I can feel you getting more excited down there.”

Placing your legs around his waist, he leans down over you. His sneaky hand travels up your torso, giving your boobs a light squeeze through your shirt. Then, he wraps his hand around your neck gently and carefully, only applying enough pressure to drive you wild.

He breaks his rhythm, reverting back to the previous slow pace. Something about the way you feel around him, hot and tight, needy and wet. Jaehyun just loves how your body reacts.

The feeling of soreness occupies your lower half and you’re more than certain it’s going to be rough tomorrow morning. Every thrust is agonizing, yet powerful enough to be felt in your guts. Jaehyun never fails to leave an impression.

Through your moans, you manage to stutter out his name. “Please, harder.” Jaehyun picks you up, hands supporting your butt and pressing your back against your door. Placing your legs down, you’re standing up right facing him with a confused expression at the change of location.

For a brief moment, his lustful glare is warm and friendly. It’s the same look that greets you in the car when he drives you two to campus. It’s the one he often looks at you with across the dinner table, usually accompanied with his robust laughter. Jaehyun looks at you as if he’s only ever seen you.

However, his next words are far from romantic and his hand finds its way to your throat, pinning you up against the cold door. “I want them to hear how good I fuck you.” Them. The rest of your housemates. Knowing that the house is far from soundproof, Jaehyun wants everyone to know how enthusiastic he makes you feel.

“But--” As you begin to protest, he drives his hips up and nestles into you. His free hand grips your waist steadily as he barely pulls out, fucking you deeper until you feel him at the pit of your stomach. There is no ability to hold back your pleasure, moans just naturally fill the room and bounce off every wall.

“Cum for me, I know you’re close.” Jaehyun has no intentions to stop, the feeling of both releases being at the tip of your tongues. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me.”

The small bubble inside of you is ready to burst. Jaehyun sucks on his fingers to coat them with saliva and reaches down to stroke at your clit. Like a switch, your internal light bulb explodes and every spark of electricity fuels your every vein.

Your orgasm electrifies you, causing every limb to shake uncontrollably and sporadically. Jaehyun keeps thrusting up, helping you ride out the intensity of your high.

“There you go, baby.” A small kiss on your shoulder, he pulls out and the emptiness is felt immediately. Getting on your knees, you take his cock in your mouth to help him finish. He rests his fists on the door, hovering over you as his abs flex beautifully under the fluorescent light. Hollowing out your cheeks, your throat invites him deeper and this causes him to mindlessly thrust into your mouth.

Jaehyun sounds breathy above you, whining about how close he is to cumming. Silence in the room has been replaced with his heavy pants and soft groans, the sound of suckling and slick saliva droning out anything else.

“Fuck, y/n.” He says, as he holds your cheek in his palm and maintains eye contact with you through his brown locks. The view of his dick being swallowed up in your mouth is more than enough to drive him to his edge, strings of cum coating the back of your throat from his release. The saltiness immediately hits your palette.

Jaehyun tosses his head back until the satisfaction dissipates. Slowly pulling himself out, he moves quickly to find you a tissue. For a moment, neither one of you speak as he silently dresses himself and you wipe the remaining spit off of your lips.

He helps you up from the floor, lightly dusting off your bare knees for you. And he says something to break the slightly awkward atmosphere, “are you kicking me out like you do with the rest of your hookups?” Jaehyun laughs, wide smile and dimples deep in his soft cheeks. The glow in his skin radiates in the dimness, he’s a sight that’s too difficult to look away from.

“Did you want to stay?” Tossing on a pair of fresh underwear and pajama shorts, you have a vague memory of Jaehyun holding you after your first fuck together.

Though Jaehyun is your friend before anything else, he responds like every other hookup unsure about the next steps. He shrugs, turning around and tapping his back for you to hop on. “I’ll take you to the bathroom to wash up.”

Jumping on his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you down the hall to the shared bathroom. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, knowing how embarrassed you are going to be the next morning when facing the rest of your housemates.

“I know you’re just going to come into my room anyways, right?” He sets you down and the door to the bathroom swings open to reveal an equally surprised Haechan.

“Shit, you two scared me.” The dramatic boy rests a hand on his chest to calm his startled heart. “You might want to air out the bathroom before doing anything in there.” Jaehyun and Haechan share a laugh as you groan, irritated by the putrid fumes that cursed the poorly ventilated bathroom.

“You’re so gross.” You say, punching Haechan jokingly on the arm.

“Says you.” Haechan pauses to poke at Jaehyun’s bare chest, “and you. We are never playing Truth or Dare ever again.”

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game bro.” Jaehyun snickers.

Haechan pays no more attention to the two of you, back turned and hurrying into his dark room. “I do hate the game now!” He yells in a whisper, shutting his door to end the conversation. You sigh out of relief that Haechan didn’t press for more details or jokes.

Housemates, you never know what adventures you’d run into with them. Nonetheless, you don’t mind and getting to see a shirtless Jaehyun parade around the house is always a treat.

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

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for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?”

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined.

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his.

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking.

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment.

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace.

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play.

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling.

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around.

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

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shes-a-gryffindor · 3 years

Text

I'll Stay With You

A bit of Angst, lots of fluff and a just a touch of smut 🤭

James looked frantically around, dodging the rubble exploding around him, flashes of red and green flew past his head as he tried desperately to find Lily. It must have been their hundredth raid by that point and yet they were no more prepared for the onslaught that had been waiting for them and even less for the Death Eaters - as they called themselves - to be waiting alongside Voldemort himself. Following her voice through the thick haze of the battle he was sure he’d find her being tortured or worse… until finally, too riddled with adrenaline to feel any relief, he found her mid duel, two against one, her face scrunched up in determination. Almost blind with rage, he shot at the cloaked figures curses a younger version of himself had probably once sworn against and even as they lay unconscious on the ground in front of him, the curses continued to explode from his wand, until Kingsley’s voice came, barely audible through the fight raging around them, ordering them all to retreat. Without thinking twice he pulled Lily closer, apparating straight back to the safety of headquarters.

Worse than the attack itself perhaps was the aftermath… Time seemed to move excruciatingly slowly in these moments when they could do nothing but wait anxiously for their friends to return, to see who else had managed to get away, thinking dreadfully of who might not have and whether they should go back.

Relief like an enormous tidal wave flooded through them at their friends’ safety; heavily outnumbered and surrounded on every front, it was by some miracle that they’d managed to get away with their lives. Despite their elation at everyone’s miraculous survival, on days like these and especially now, what James wanted more than anything else was Lily, and home. He’d never been very good at keeping a poker face and his body language always gave him away - the anxious tapping of his foot or the strum of his fingers at his side - at least that’s what Lily had always told him and it was perhaps for this reason that after sharing a knowing look with Sirius, she took James’s hand in her own, smiling ruefully at him before nodding slightly as if to say ‘let’s go.’

Landing with a crack in a quiet lane in Godric's Hollow, they made the short walk home in stony faced silence, their hands inconspicuously gripping their wands, James with an arm wrapped protectively around Lily, looking over his shoulder every so often.

The familiar smell of home seemed to ease some of the tension they’d been carrying since apparating from the fight; grateful to be out of the cold and within the safety of the cottages protective spells and enchantments, they closed the door behind them, shaking off their coats and kicking off their shoes they made for the kitchen; there was almost nothing a cup of tea couldn’t make even a little bit better and it had become something of a tradition that this was the first thing they did upon returning home from a particularly gruelling mission. Lily pottered about the kitchen in silence, making their tea - she found at times like this doing it the muggle way was almost cathartic. It wasn’t until they were both sitting in the nook, their hands cupped around mugs, that they finally spoke.

Lily could feel the tension radiating off of him, “That was too close… “ he said quietly, frowning down at his tea.

Knowing exactly where this was going, she sighed, “It could’ve been any one of us James…”

Scrunching up his eyes he shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of a particularly unpleasant thought, “yes but it wasn’t anyone, was it? It was you, There were two of them Lily, if I hadn’t found you in time-“

“But you did,” she reassured him. “James…” she continued, reaching out to place a hand over his, “it’s o-“

“Don’t say it’s okay” He interjected, standing so abruptly the loud scrape of his chair against the hardwood made her jump. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, jaw tense.

“Obviously none of this is okay,” she said, frowning up at him, “I only meant that we all made it back, I’m fine, we’re fine.”

He paced aimlessly around the kitchen before stopping to lean against a bench. Looking at her for a moment, he took a breath as if to brace himself, “If you would please just consider-“

“No” she cut him off coolly, “how many times do I have to tell you, I’m no less capable than I was before.”

“You’re a right side better than half the bloody Order on a bad day Lily, it’s not about-“

“We’ve spoken about this,” she said frustratedly, “I told you, I won’t sit on the sidelines while you all go out and risk your necks!” She was standing now too, “we made a commitment, I won’t back out,” she finished stubbornly.

“People will understand if we just tell-“

“Yes that’s exactly how I wanted to break the news,” she scowled, “hey everyone, oh, sorry can’t come along, I’m up the duff,” her tone dripped sarcasm, “besides it’s not about that! Do you honestly think I could stand it? Sitting here waiting for you every time, not knowing what’s going on?”

Throwing his head back he ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “I’ll stay with you,” he told her, looking utterly defeated. It was at this - his willingness to sit out with her at the expense of not fighting alongside his friends, a prospect so out of character for him - that she understood how genuinely desperate he was to protect her; the vulnerability in his expression, so misplaced in comparison to the usually confident, bordering on cocky, grin he often donned. James, so unyielding in his principles, found it incredibly hard to swallow that he was so utterly powerless over something he considered, however outdated Lily told him the concept was, his duty, the safety of his wife, his unborn child, his family. “Please,” he said thickly, “I’m no good to anyone like this… If something were to happen to you, or the baby…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering briefly down to Lily’s stomach, not far along enough for it to be obvious she was pregnant.

Softening a little in her resolve she sighed heavily, walking over to where he was standing to weave her arms over his shoulders and around his neck; looking up at him, her eyes darted back and forth between his own...“Do you honestly think you could stand it?” she said, quietly.

And he thought of his friends…she was right, he knew it.

“No,” he admitted despondently, “you’re right, I couldn’t.” Trying to repress the thought of what might have happened had he found her only minutes later, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer before burying his face at the crook of her neck.

“Imagine if I’d said yes,” she sniggered, “you’d have had to tell Sirius he might be paired up with Peter on missions from now on,” making him smile involuntarily against her neck; Pushing gently away from his embrace to look up at him again, she cupped his face, kissing him swiftly, “I’ll go and run a bath,” she said, before stalking out of the kitchen

He felt a small, irrational pang of anxiety as he watched her disappear into the hall, out of sight. Pouring their half finished tea down the drain, he dropped their mugs into the sink before trudging up the stairs, pulling his shirt up over his head as he went.

Along with his glasses, all fogged up and useless, their battle-worn clothes lay discarded in a heap on the bathroom floor, and steam rose curling up off of their skin, as they sat in the warm, soapy water. It was much easier to forget the dark thoughts that crept unwanted into his mind when he could focus instead on the weight of Lily’s body against his as she lay with her back against his chest, skin on skin… to think instead about how much he loved her hair this way, piled up into a messy knot, strands falling haphazardly out over her neck.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Much,” he responded, lowering his lips to press them gently against her shoulder.

“Mhm… thought you might,” she said, raking her fingers across his leg; he felt himself tense beneath her and she grinned with satisfaction at his reaction.

She was teasing him, his stomach lurched excitedly, this was a game they played often, one he enjoyed immensely. “You know,” he said, through a smirk, trailing kisses across her collarbone, “if we’re not careful, we’ll end up with our second baby before we’ve had our first.”

Chuckling softly, hands tracing higher still, she responded, “reckon we’ll have a whole quidditch team on our hands at this rate.”

“Reckon you’re right,” he grinned, now painfully aware of her hand on his leg and the way she was laying across him, she relished in his increasing impatience to have her closer still.

Sliding his arms around her waist he let his lips trail past her collarbone to her neck, grazing her ear, the barely stifled sigh that escaped her made him grin widely again.

“Okay,” she said, suddenly, her voice low.

“Okay what?” He responded, still peppering kisses up her neck.

“No more raids,” she responded.

He chuckled, “I’d have gotten you in the bath a lot earlier if I knew that’s all it’d ta-”, he tilted his head back to look at her, “… you’re serious?” He asked, brows furrowed, “what’s changed your mind?”

“Well...” she began with a sigh, “much as I don’t want to admit it, I have been feeling a little...off, lately, it’s hard stuff y’know, this growing another human,” making him laugh, “anyway,” she continued, “ I suppose it’s not just about me anymore…besides, can’t have you running ‘round after me like a lunatic… get yourself killed.” She rolled her eyes at James’s barely disguised glee, feeling like an immense weight was being lifted off his shoulders and sounding much more like his usual self he laughed heartily.

“I have conditions!” Lily quickly added.

“I’d have expected nothing less,” he said, through laughter, “go on.”

“I’ll still be at headquarters before and after every raid, and I’ll still continue to do all the other stuff I’m doing now, and if Voldemort shows up again you’re to apparate straight back, no questions asked.”

“Okay,” he said, still grinning.

“James, I’m serious…that’s three times we’ve crossed him now, and each time’s been an even closer shave than the last.”

“I know… understood,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her, “I promise.”

“So… we’re telling people then?” He asked, his grin widening to its full extent, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of finally being able to share with everyone the best news of his life.

She was laughing now too, “yes,” she said, twisting her neck to grin up at him, “we’re telling people.”

Her lips were only centimetres from his before he happily closed the gap, kissing her, both their mouths still tugging up at the corners, smiling against each other.

Any lingering anxiety from the events that had transpired earlier had now vanished and James was once again painfully aware of her body on his. Her fingers now dug at his neck and with a gradual intensity he could feel her need for him just as intensely as he felt his own, losing himself in how completely she overwhelmed all his senses… the feel of her lips against his, her tongue sliding across the inside of his lip every so often, the smell of her hair, sweet and hot in the steam floating around them, the tiny sounds she made, her heavy breathing drove him wild and he ached to have her as close as was physically possible.

Giving into the carnal passion that threatened to overwhelm him, gently as he could, he twisted her around, hands gripping the underside of her thighs he hitched them up to his hips so that she was straddling him and lifted her easily out of the tub, eliciting from her a gasp, "Eager are we?" she laughed, making him grin against her lips and she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her arms around his neck as he carried her to their bedroom; and soon, they were laying tangled in damp sheets, their legs entwined, chests heaving up in down in the same rhythm, sheepish grins plastered on their faces.

Heavy eyed and almost drunk with happiness, they lay wrapped up in each other still, talking and laughing into the evening, guessing at their friends’ reactions to their news, musing over names and who he or she might look like, which of their traits he or she would inherit, making jokes at each other's expense about which ones they hoped wouldn't be inherited... until eventually, safe in their momentarily indestructible bubble of bliss, they succumbed to exhaustion, drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#jily fic #jily #jily love #jily fluff #jily smut #fluff #mild smut #harry potter fanfic #james potter x lily evans #angst with a happy ending #marauders era

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

the end of being alone (4)

warnings: mentions of Roman's tragic backstory, health concerns, chronic fatigue mentions, but really mostly fluff

“Roman!” A hushed whisper-yell came from halfway across the cave.

Roman looked up from where he was carefully taking apart and cleaning out his communicator, feeling a stab of exhaustion upon seeing Patton crouched next to their resident baby Human. They’d just spent what felt like half a suncycle entertaining the kid, who seemed to wake up with more energy than all three of them combined.

Virgil was in fact the source behind the crumbs of mud and dirt that had worked their way into the cracks of his communicator: Logan was currently at the ship working inventory, and the kid had insisted on checking up on him as often as he remembered that the Ulgorii wasn’t with them, which was often.

Still, they’d managed to tucker him out eventually, and he’d fallen asleep in their presence for the third time ever, which felt like some kind of accomplishment in itself.

An accomplishment that they were about to undo if Patton didn’t stop making a ruckus. Roman drew his hands apart slowly, signing ‘quiet’ at his friend as he cast one last look at the partially assembled communicator and then padded over.

“What is it?” he signed, since whispering was both rough on his throat and not always guaranteed to come out as low volume as he’d like.

Patton took a moment to gesture wildly at the Human, who was slumped over on his side. Roman felt a sudden stab of fear, and leaned over to check his breathing.

To his relief, Virgil was simply sleeping, no injuries or illness visible in him. He turned a frustrated stare onto Patton. If the Ampen had called him over here and scared the scales off of him just to have another fit about how cute the Human was, he was turning right around and walking to the nearest river to dunk his head under and scream.

Before he could say as much, Patton finally found his words. “Roman, he’s purring!”

Roman jerked back slightly in surprise. “He’s what?”

“Purring!” Patton looked up at him, antennae fluttering back and forth rapidly like he couldn’t contain his confused alarm. “He’s never done this before! Do you think…,”

Roman moved closer, ears pricking forward attentively. Sure enough, there was a low little buzz coming from the Human. He couldn’t help but notice the purr’s odd tone, the weakness of it, the way it stuttered and paused and occasionally seemed to falter entirely.

“It’s not right,” he muttered to himself, placing the pads of his hand on the Human’s torso and feeling the faint buzz.

Patton whistled in worried query, glancing between them both. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s Human, Pat, I don’t know if—,” Roman froze midway through lifting his hand away; Virgil was making a short, high noise, almost like a whine. His little face had crinkled up in sleep, the way Human distress looked, and his purr had turned to hitching breaths.

Roman glanced at his broken communicator and swore under his breath, feelings strong enough to make Patton fluff up with secondhand panic.

“I’ll go find Logan!” he said, twisting and scampering out of the cave, quick enough that his skittered footsteps had vanished by the time Roman’s wordless sound of protest made it out of him. Roman had longer legs, and Patton was better with the kid, so why had things turned out like this?!

He looked back down at Virgil, who had begun to unconsciously curl inward, leaving his back exposed. The motion hardly made sense; according to the body scan Logan had coaxed the kid through, the center of all his nerves met there, with only a thin layer of skin and muscle surrounding it.

He had no scales or rough hide or even fluffy plumage to protect his back, but he still curled up with it facing out, as though defending his squishy underside like a Crav’n.

The thought made something in him twist, and his scales went slicked back as another whimper tore through the tiny Human. He glanced at the cave opening: There was no sign of the others’ return. It would probably be a while yet.

Regardless, Roman couldn’t wait around and watch a kit cry any longer. He carefully lifted the Human up into the curl of one arm, crooning lowly at him. Virgil settled slightly, but the tiny, haphazard purr had yet to start back up, and the thought was enough to make him feel nauseous with worry.

He reached back and only hesitated a fraction before unhooking his plate armor, pulling it free and setting it away for the first time in the kit’s presence. Despite the sounds of metal, Virgil didn’t wake, head slumped against a shoulder and gangly limbs pulled in tight.

Still, no purr. Not even that sickly little stutter.

If Virgil had been a Crav’n, a true pup, he would have spent each night cuddled up with his family, falling asleep to their low rumbles and quickly developing his own. It was an automatic reflex, a vital part of deep sleep, a vibration that kept their bodies in good condition.

There were ways it could go wrong. If a pup was abandoned, they’d have problems developing their purr alone. If a pup felt... unsafe enough, they’d stop purring entirely, quiet even in the deepest sleep. When it was a choice between being healthy and not being hunted, even the smallest pups knew which to choose.

Even after rescue, it could be a struggle to regain the reflex, especially without close family. It had taken Roman years to manage, and he could still remember how much better he’d felt when he’d woken up after a full night of low, purring sleep. The sense of relief that came with realizing the ache in his bones didn’t have to be permanent.

Roman wavered, looking down at Virgil. The kid was Human. There was no guarantee this was even what he needed.

But if he did need it, the way Roman had needed it so long ago…

He pressed a thumbpad to the little crinkle in the Human’s brow, smoothing it out, and then sat down with a little grumble of acceptance. He shifted to lean back, his tail keeping him balanced as he settled Virgil’s little curled up form atop his chest.

It had been a while since he had purred while conscious. Parents got plenty of practice, of course, but once a kit was old enough, everyone would greet them with their own rumble, let them know they were safe. It was the best way for older kids to keep practicing their purrs while awake, too.

He hadn’t practiced in a long time, but looking down at the kit, he found his own deep, consistent purr started up with barely a hitch.

It took a few moments, but Virgil cuddled closer, seeming to lose a little of that fearful tension. Roman carefully adjusted him as he got floppier, and frowned at the little sharp bits of bone he could feel under the skin. Patton was right; the kid needed to eat more.

Embarrassingly, his purr got louder, as though he could heal months’ worth of living off a scavenger diet through pure force of will. He should tone it down. He wasn’t a brand new parent looking after their first pup. He didn’t even know if this would help at all.

…

Well, it couldn’t hurt to keep trying, though, could it?

—

When Patton scrambled into the cave ahead of him and then stopped short, Logan feared the worst.

He’d always known that this venture could end in disaster, from the moment they’d realized they were dealing with a Human. Roman had been worried about aggression or violence, the classic fears when it came to Deathworlders and the expected response considering the Cravon’s past.

Logan had been more worried about the situation itself. The black market trafficking industry had led to an abhorrent number of cases with rescued feral children. Very few of them had been successfully socialized, and though Virgil was older and seemed to be improving with them, his worry about the child had never quite gone away.

“Is he…,” Logan felt his throat buzz with some sort of wordless grief, and Patton turned to look at him with wide eyes.

He chirped a negative as quietly as possible, and Logan felt some of the weight on him fall away. Reaching out, Patton curled his little fingers around Logan’s wrist, tapping an apology against his chitlin.

“They’re okay,” he whispered, and then pulled him forward excitedly. “I was just surprised, really surprised— look!”

Once his eyes had adjusted to the slight change in lighting, Logan could see Roman, who was laying on his back up against the wall of the cave, his face lax with sleep and a low rhythmic rumble emanating from his chest. This in itself wasn’t entirely unusual; Roman needed a lot of sleep, and he often took naps here and there.

No, the unusual element was the Human that currently had his cheek squished up against Roman’s neck, sprawled out in the most relaxed position he’d ever seen from the pupa. Roman’s chest plate had been set aside entirely.

“They’re cuddling,” Logan said, bewildered.

“They’re cuddling!” Patton squealed, ecstatic.

He clapped his hands over his mouth, but going by the way Roman’s purr shifted to a growl, the damage was done. Roman’s eyes slit open, and without a moment’s pause his tail curled in front of him defensively, his scales pricking up to make a wall of sharp points between them and Virgil.

The Cravon looked entirely ready to disembowel whoever had dared to try and disrupt the kid’s sleep.

“Roman,” Logan called dryly, “it’s us.”

He ran through his identifying ‘friend-safe’ clicks to cement the statement, but Roman was already settling his scales back down and averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” he forced out, ears flattened back with embarrassment as his growl settled back into that low purr Logan normally only heard while they were settling down to sleep. “Didn’t mean to—,”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan interrupted, unable to completely conceal the amusement he felt. Roman had yet to shift in any way that would jostle Virgil. “Though this is a touching scene, I was under the impression that something was wrong.”

Patton piped up to answer his non-question, though his antennae had yet to stop their excited swaying. “We found out Virgil purrs!”

As if on cue, a haphazard little buzz started up, a rough, faltering pattern that was barely audible. Roman lowered his own purr’s volume, though it seemed to make his ears twitch with reluctance.

They all went quiet to listen to the undersized sound for a moment, the Human still blissfully unaware of all the attention.

“It’s too weak by far,” Roman said, his Common a little more accented through the purr. He was looking at the Human in his arms with blatant worry, a far cry from his original reluctance to interact. “I didn’t know a purr could be this weak.”

“That’s because it’s not a purr,” Logan said, trying to keep any hint of fondness from his voice. His shipmates turned to look at him with wildly varying expressions.

“I’ve seen this phenomenon before,” he continued. “I used the medscanner to check Virgil over, because I had also originally assumed it was a purr, and if it was…,” he faltered.

He’d been just as alarmed as the two of them now were, hearing it. If it had been an internal maintenance process like a Crav’n purr, it would have been even quieter than Roman’s when they’d first started travelling together. He and Patton had witnessed firsthand the difference in Roman’s mood and health once he’d gotten through those rough nights.

Next to him, Roman’s ears were tucked completely flat, as though he knew exactly what Logan was remembering. Logan didn’t understand why Roman was so embarrassed by moments of weakness-- was often frustrated by his friend’s reticence, even-- but now wasn’t the time to address it.

“I was simply concerned about the possibility,” Logan finally settled on, “but after investigating his scan thoroughly, I found it was simply the result of soft tissue vibrations from a partially blocked airway.”

Patton blinked up at him. “What does that mean here?”

“It means I-- we freaked out for no reason,” Roman grumped, carefully pushing himself up as his purr ground to a stuttering halt.

Logan held out a stilling hand. “Not necessarily.”

“So, it is a bad thing?” Patton asked, drooping.

“Not at the moment, however,” Logan cast a meaningful look at Roman, “I have no control to work off of, but I do believe Virgil’s general skeletal and muscular health is in worse shape than they should be. He may not have the capability to self-maintain like you, Roman, but that doesn’t mean he gains no benefits from this. The opposite, really.”

Roman slumped back down immediately, eyes wide. “It’s helping?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “I was planning to bring the topic up with you, actually, once you were more comfortable around him.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Patton chirped delightedly, darting forwards to bump his head against Roman’s chin. “You really stepped up when he needed you, Roman.”

“Of course I did, who do you think I am?” Roman shot back confidently. Everyone politely pretended not to notice the flustered twitching of his tail. Patton peeked over Roman’s shoulder, crooning slightly at the sight of Virgil.

“Cuddle pile!” he cheered softly, using Roman’s arm as a helpful bar to climb up onto him. Roman shifted obligingly, shifting his horns into range for easy handholds when Patton inevitably slipped.

As soon as Patton was settled, feathers puffed out for maximum soft padding, the two of them turned to look at Logan with matching pleading expressions, as though choreographed. Logan clicked with faux reluctance even as he stepped closer.

“Oh, very well,” he conceded, and was pulled into the haphazard pile posthaste.

He mentally tabled the rest of inventory for later, knowing quite well that nothing was going to get done for as long as the impromptu session lasted.

Still, with his friends beside him and Roman’s pleased purr rumbling through him, he couldn't seem to find anything to complain about.

#sanders sides #teoba #wibar #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #writing #my writing #the end of being alone #humans are deathworlders #yaaay i wrote #*claps for myself*

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mybillyhardgrove · 4 years

Text

He loves you, he loves you lots b.h.

A/n: if you haven’t read Mango Kisses, check it out :) this piece may be my favorite thing ive written so far and im excited for you to read it!

Disclaimer: i don’t own any Stranger Things material

Word count: 2467

Warnings: some cheeky remarks from billy and a couple curses

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female)

Summary: after being with Billy for a few months, it has become clear how he shows his love for you

Physical Touch

The touches had been deliberate at the start, meant to convey the interest you two had in each other. Flirty touches of his shoulder or arm as he talked to you in the school hallways or at random parties on the weekends. Gentle touches of your lower back as he walked past you, his chest rubbing a bit on your shoulder blades, though there was room enough for him not to need to be so close.

As your relationship developed, the touches became more frequent and less subtle. His arm draped around your shoulder or his hand in your back pocket, your legs crossed on his lap or your fingers intertwined with his. No matter what, it seemed that you were connected in some way almost all the time.

Finally, when you accepted Billy’s invitation to a date and you were officially his girl, the touching didn’t stop. Not that you minded. You found it so endearing that Billy seemed to reach for you, sitting with his knee touching yours, his hand on your back, his shoulder rubbing against yours, his hand on your thigh while he drove. It also seemed he didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time. It was an unconscious pull he had to you whenever you were near. One of your favorites was when you and Billy laid together and he played with the ends of your hair, rubbing his fingers together and smoothing the bumps away. It tended to relax you so much that you had to fight to keep your eyes open, lulled by his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body wrapped up in yours. “That feels nice, Billy.” You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed, pulling you closer and lightly scratching your scalp as you let sleep fall over you.

It meant even more to you that Billy was so comfortable being physically affectionate with you after you learned about his childhood and the physical and verbal abuse of his father. This point was driven home when you were sitting at a diner one evening, Billy’s sneakered feet rubbing yours as you sipped your milkshake. You grabbed his hand resting on the table, softly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and giving him a soft smile. He squeezed your hand in response, wiping his mouth and making sure he had your attention.

“I’m glad you’re my girl.” Your smile immediately widened, teeth popping out.

“I am, too, Billy.” After a beat, “What made you say that?” He grabbed your other hand across the table.

“I’m just happy to have you. It feels nice that I can reach out and I know you’ll be there. Your hugs, the way you touch me, I’ve never felt that before. Usually it’s rough and my dad or a girl wants something from me. I like that you touch me and let me touch you so much because you’re happy.” You could see he was losing his nerve, pulling his hands away and preparing to put on the devil-may-care attitude that was common when with friends.

“I love you, Billy. And I love that you feel comfortable enough to share that with me. I hope I can always make you feel that way.” He looked up, smiling a little, the tension leaving his shoulders. You didn’t want to make him feel awkward by focusing on the confession too long, so you continued. “Now eat those fries before I steal some.” He chuckled and grabbed your hand again, reaching across with a fry for you.

Once he had dropped it in your mouth, he cleared his throat. “I love you, too.” You smiled widely again, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

Words of Affirmation

You were rushing to get ready, imagining the look on Billy’s face as he sat on the couch all ready to head to the party. Your hands were shaking a bit as you dusted the rose blush on your cheekbones and nose. As Billy’s girl, you could expect as always to be the center of attention for most of the night as girls looked at you in jealousy and boys looked at you while they talked with Billy. It wasn’t that you wished you weren’t with Billy, it just got tiring to have all eyes on you both.

“Are you almost ready to head ou-” as you turned towards the sound of Billy’s voice, you watched him lower the sunglasses from his eyes, dragging his baby blues down your body and back up. You could feel your cheeks get hot as he let out a low whistle. “God damn, baby, you look like that and we may never make it to that party.” He came closer and wrapped his arm around your side, his hand fanning across your lower back and with a small pull, your body was flush to his. He leaned down to press his lips to your jaw, murmuring compliments as he spread the kisses down your neck and behind your ear. “You’re so beautiful.” Kiss. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Kiss. “So smart and kind.” Kiss. “I am the luckiest man in Hawkins.” Kiss. “I love you so much.” After this last profession, Billy pressed a soft and meaningful kiss to your lips, lingering there as his hands came to rest on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

You tilted your head to the side into the kiss, slipping your fingers in his hair and scratching a bit at his scalp before pulling away and grabbing your purse. “I’m ready to go. Let’s get this over with.” You grabbed his hand and led him out of your room.

He followed with a lovesick look on his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gifts

“Bill, shift your legs a little, mine are falling asleep.” You and your boyfriend were currently watching Red Dawn, your head resting on one side of the couch as Billy’s was resting on the other, legs intertwined and a thin blanket over the both of you. Sadly for you, it wasn’t quite enough to keep goosebumps from rising on your skin. Although the day had been fairly warm and you felt good in a sundress as Billy showered you in compliments all day, you were now verging on cold. Alone in the Hargrove’s house for the evening, the cool air coming in the open window was making you shiver.

Finally too distracted by the chill, you rose from the couch and shut the window, returning to curl up against Billy. You lifted the blanket, wiggled between his legs, and rested your back against his chest with the blanket up to your chin. He shifted a little and wrapped his arms around you, putting your hands in his. “Jeez, babe, your hands are freezing.” He pulled them up to his mouth, blowing warm air into your curled fingers, rubbing his palms together in an effort to bring them back to normal. You moved your feet a bit and accidentally pressed your cold toes to his bare leg. “Your feet are like ice cubes! Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold? Scoot forward, I’ll be right back.” You did as you were told and he swung his leg over your head, retreating to his room for a minute before coming back, a mess of fabric in his hands. “Here, put these on.”

You took the lump to the bathroom and laid it out, finally determining what he had given you. A cozy pair of his sweatpants, a long-sleeved henley shirt, and a pair of thick socks. Humming, you slipped your clothes off and changed into his, surrounded by the smell of cologne and a hint of smoke. You grabbed your things, dumped them next to your purse in the living room, and crawled back under the blanket with Billy.

“Feeling better?” He rubbed his hands down your arms.

“Much. Thank you.” You turned your head, pressing a kiss to his lips before settling to watch the rest of the movie.

A while later when the movie was finished and it was time for Billy to drive you home, you explained you would return his clothes the following day. “Keep them. They look better on you anyway. My gift to you, so you don’t freeze your ass off anymore.” You giggled and grabbed your things, admiring how loving Billy was to you.

Acts of Service

It was a bit of a tradition that had developed where Billy would climb up the trellis to the roof outside your bedroom window, tapping lightly so you would let him in. You loved when he did this and never asked why. He loved that about you - you didn’t need a reason or an explanation, you were there with a smile and a kiss, ready to snuggle and whisper until the morning.

This particular night was a bit different than usual. When he began the climb to your room, he could see the window was already open, likely because it was a cool night and the breeze felt nice on your skin. Smiling as he thought about seeing you, he peeked in the window and saw something that warmed his heart. The light next to your bed was on and illuminated the pile of books and clothes around your room as you slept in the middle of your bed, a notebook still open on your lap.

Billy let out a breathy chuckle as he quietly climbed in, careful not to wake you. He shrugged off his jacket and slipped off his shoes, placing them by the window. Who knew a girl who so lovingly helped Billy clean his room when Neil rode his ass about it would be able to make such a mess herself. He knew from your recent conversations that school was kicking your ass at the moment and it seemed cleaning was taking a backseat for the time being. He looked at the soft rise and fall of your chest, your tangled hair, and the pout of your mouth for a minute before getting to work. He gathered empty water bottles and crumpled up pieces of paper, throwing them in the small garbage can under your nightstand. He collected the school books that lay in a halo around you, gently lifting your hand to grab the notebook and pen you had been writing with before nodding off. Placing those on the top of your dresser in a neat pile, he went into the hall to grab a laundry basket.

After Billy had picked up the discarded clothes on your bed and floor, as well as those in your hamper, he tiptoed to the basement to throw the load in for you. Carefully avoiding the creaky spots on the staircase, he returned to your room, pleased with himself that it once again resembled the way you liked it. He pulled the socks from your feet, knowing you hated sleeping in them. As he did so, it dawned on him that they were his socks. In fact, you were also wearing the pair of sweatpants and the henley shirt he had given you the night you were cold while you watched a movie together. That memory brought a smile to his lips. Finally, he grabbed the rolled edges of your sheets and comforter from the foot of the bed, lifting them over your legs and up to your chest. This caused you to shift, taking a deep breath before rolling over, giving him enough room to slide in next to you. He did just that, humming a bit as he wrapped you in his arms, drifting quickly to sleep to the sound of your soft breaths and the warmth of your bed.

Quality Time

“Really, Billy, I don’t mind. I’ll just stay home and see you later.” You were currently on the phone with your boyfriend, trying to convince him to go to the party alone that you were going to go to together. It had been your plan all week to go to this party together and you even had an outfit laid out for the occasion. Unfortunately, you had woken up with a sore throat and a completely stuffed nose. After a few hours of blowing your nose, taking Vitamin C, and praying this would go away, you were resigned to call Billy and tell him he’d have to go without you.

“I am not going unless you’re there and I can tell from your voice that you’re really sick. Lay down and get cozy, I’ll be over in a little.” You sighed, disappointed that you were altering the plans for the evening.

“I’ll be fine. I feel bad that-” Before finishing that you felt bad for throwing a wrench in the evening, you were interrupted.

“I am not going to that stupid party, baby. I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Now get under the covers. I’m coming over. Is the door unlocked?” You answered in the affirmative and with one more order to get under covers, he hung up. You shuffled your feet across the carpet, burrowing under the large throw blanket, tissue box close by.

For a while, there was silence (apart from the sneezing and the pounding in your head from an annoying little headache that had formed since your call with Billy). You were somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, praying that this would end and missing the time you could breathe out of your nose. As you lay staring at the ceiling, you heard a familiar rumble in the distance get closer until it finally stopped in front of your house.

A few steps up to the front door and the creak as it opened and shut brought your boyfriend into view. “Shit, baby,” and with that, he kneeled next to the couch, running his fingers through your hair, wincing a bit as they ran over your forehead. He put his cheek there to confirm before saying, “I think you have a bit of a fever, too. You got it rough. But don’t worry, I brought all the things to make you feel better and I won’t leave your side until you’re good again.” He reached behind him, dragging a plastic bag full of medicine, chocolate, more tissues, and even a couple movies. You knew you were in for a troubling evening as you fought against the fever, headache, and sore throat. But with Billy by your side, it would all be okay.

By the next morning, after a night of movies, talking, snuggling, and even Billy spoon-feeding you soup, you felt almost your old self again. You were so grateful for your wonderful and caring boyfriend who showed his love all different ways. You made sure to tell him a million times, though he already knew.

masterlist

#billy hargrove x reader #reader x billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things/reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfics #billy hargrove fanfiction

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honeyju · 4 years

Text

home run; lee minho

The four times you try to ask Lee Minho to the winter formal, and the one time he asks you.

genres: fluff, friends to lovers au, high school au, sports au (baseball player minho!!)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: merry christmas!! this is a christmas collab that i’m doing with my friend alice @jjacob in which we write for each other’s ult biases! (mine is juyeon, so if you’re interested in the boyz, i recommend reading her story here, especially since our storylines are a bit connected!) i had a lot of fun learning more about minho during the writing process, and i hope this story represents him well <333

TRY ONE: KEEP IT SIMPLE.

If there’s anyone in the world who knows Lee Minho better than you do, it’s Lee Juyeon.

The two of them have been joined by the hip for as long as you can remember, and if Minho is the relentless tease, spirited and carefree, Juyeon is the gentle thinker, all sweet smiles and wise words. So that’s how you end up frantically dialing his number at nearly one in the morning, too panicked to consider the possibility of him being asleep. You wait with bated breath as the phone rings once, twice, three times before Juyeon picks up the phone, his breathy laugh greeting you instantly.

“I was waiting for this.”

Juyeon’s words cause you to let out a small noise of surprise, and his chuckle sounds in your ear, a little choppy and distant-sounding due to the poor connection, but bright nevertheless.

“What do you mean you were waiting for this?”

“Silly girl,” Juyeon says, and you can tell he’s grinning despite not being able to see him. “Don’t think I didn’t see you look at him when they announced the dance this morning.”

Your face turns red as you recall the mention of the winter formal during the school announcements and the way your head had immediately turned to Minho’s. You were certain that no one else had noticed the longing upon your face when you looked towards your close friend, but hearing Juyeon now leaves you unsure.

“Was I that obvious?” You groan, burying your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t worry that much, it wasn’t too apparent,” Juyeon assures you, and yet the spark of doubt in your mind still lingers.

“You think he knows?” You question as you run your fingers through your hair.

“That you like him? I don’t think he’d get that from just one glance.” Perhaps he’s right, for you know that Juyeon is just naturally more perceptive than others, and the things he picks up on don’t tend to be the same as what others notice.

“I hope you’re right. This isn’t how I wanted him to know,” you groan.

“Oh? So you’re planning on telling him? That’s why you called, right?” You know Juyeon’s teasing you by the tone of his voice, and you resist the temptation to whine at him.

“Help me ask Minho to the dance, Juyeon,” you plead, trying to let every ounce of your desperation show in your tone, praying that his response will be yes. There’s a pause, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation as you await his next words.

“Well, I can’t exactly ask him for you,” he starts, “but I’ll try to give you some advice.”

“Thank you, Juyeon,” you breathe in relief, switching the call to speaker mode so you can peel it away from your cheek.

“Don’t mention it. First things first, though . . .”

Juyeon trails off without an explanation, and you understand why a few moments later when you catch a flicker of light erupting from your phone out of the corner of your eye. When you lift it up a little higher in your hands, you see that Juyeon has turned his camera on, his face just slightly too close to the camera and his smile filling the screen. You rush to turn yours on as well, switching on a lamp so your face can be seen in the near darkness of the room. After an exchange of waves, Juyeon clears his throat, and even through the blurry quality you catch the blaze in his eyes that suggests he’s gotten idea.

“Y/N, Minho’s at your place right now, isn’t he?” Juyeon asks, and there’s something about his tone that strikes you as a bit too bold for your liking.

“Well, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, “but I think he’s asleep right now.”

“How about you just ask him whenever he’s awake?” Juyeon suggests, and you raise your eyebrows incredulously as you watch him shrug his shoulders like he’s just told you to do the easiest thing in the world.

“Are you insane?” You shriek, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth when you realize how loud you’ve gotten. Juyeon only laughs, his eyes morphing into crescents and his bunny-like smile widening. “You think I should just ask him like that, no preparations or anything?”

“Trust me, Y/N. It’s nice to make things special, but I think that Minho will appreciate your honest confession more than anything else.” Juyeon’s advice is laced with sincerity, and you don’t need to look at his face in the camera to know that he wants the best for you.

“I’m blaming you if things go wrong, Lee Juyeon,” you sigh reluctantly. “But I suppose there’s not really any other way to do it.”

“Give it a try,” he encourages. “I think he’ll like it.”

“Thanks, Juyeon. For picking up so late and for the advice,” you tell him genuinely, and he smiles.

“Anytime, Y/N.”

With that, the two of you hang up, and your head automatically drops to the table to rest in between your arms.

“Just ask him whenever he’s awake,” you mutter to yourself, “How am I supposed to do that? Oh, good morning Minho, breakfast is over there, and by the way, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the winter formal with me?”

The words sound stupid no matter how you say them, and you can’t stop yourself from the feeling of hopelessness that strikes you as you trudge back to the bed where you find Minho laying peacefully on his side. You smile, tilting your head as you watch him for a moment until he suddenly turns over so he’s lying on his back, blinking repeatedly until his eyes focus on you.

“You’re back?” His words are hoarse and followed by a yawn, which you laugh at softly.

“Sorry, Minho, did I keep you up?”

Minho says nothing and instead pats the space beside him on the bed, to which you oblige, instantly climbing in to lay next to him. He inches closer to you, resting his head next to your shoulder and quietly snuggling into your side. Trying to ignore the way your heart has sped up in response to his figure latching onto yours, you recall Juyeon’s words from before, realizing that he’s awake right now, and perhaps you have a chance.

“Minho?” Your voice comes out in a whisper, and you don’t dare to look at him out of fear for your heart.

“Hmm?” Minho’s response is sleepy, slightly muffled from your shoulder but unbelievably soft.

“Are you by any chance going with someone to the winter formal?” You ask hesitantly, squeezing your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Minho makes a small noise of disagreement, and you can feel his head shaking against your side as if in extra confirmation.

A relieved sigh falls from your lips, but your next words get stuck in your throat when you come to the realization of just how scary it is to confess. You can’t stop the swarm of worries that hit you, overcome by the question of whether he doesn’t see you as anything more than a friend, and if asking him to the dance will jeopardize your relationship with him. You know that you can’t hold your feelings in forever, though, and you think of Juyeon’s kind motivation when you say your next words.

“D’you maybe wanna go to the formal together?”

There’s a heavy silence, your question lingering in the air unanswered, and your heart sinks in your chest at the lack of response.

“Minho?” You try again quietly. Dread overtakes you as you guess that perhaps his silence is a form of his rejection, and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to get yourself out of this one. When you turn on your side to face him, however, you find that he’s already fallen back asleep, light snores emitting from his parted mouth. A small smile creeps up your face as you unconsciously lift your hand to stroke his hair, mindlessly dragging your fingers through the silky strands. He leans into your touch, eyes still closed as he mumbles meaningless words out of fatigue and shifts so he’s closer to you.

Maybe tomorrow, you think to yourself, resting your head on the top of his and letting your eyes fall shut as sleep overtakes you.

TRY TWO: MAKE IT SPECIAL.

Your heart pounds as you tug the door open to the café, peeking inside to find the area mostly empty save for a handful of students at the far end. You thank the heavens for appearing just on time, the familiar sight instantly soothing your nerves. You set the large plastic bag you’d brought along with you on one of the tables, laughing a little as you begin to empty it of its contents one by one.

“Look at you, Y/N,” you mumble to yourself, “bringing this food and getting all dressed up for a man.”

The last item in the bag makes you smile, despite yourself, and you pull out the small box of chocolates that you had bought in the morning, setting it down to complete the collection. You marvel at the assortment of treats you’d gotten for him, shaking your head as you sit down to try and calm yourself from the slight tension of it all. Glancing up to check the time in one of the clocks hung up on the wall, you realize with jittery anticipation that he’ll be arriving soon.

Five minutes pass, and he’s nowhere to be seen.

You think nothing of it until another ten minutes pass, and you begin to wonder what’s holding him up, trying not to let the feeling of unease get to you as you assure yourself that he might just be running a bit late. Your foot begins to tap quietly against the tiled floor, an anxious habit of yours you’d never managed to quite get rid of.

Thirty minutes pass, and you pull your phone out from your side pocket, unlocking it to stare at his contact in part hesitation and part concern.

Should I call him?

You weigh out your options, wondering if you’ll sound too demanding if you call to ask if something’s wrong. However, your phone appears to solve the problem for you, the shrill sound of its ringing interrupting you from your thoughts. You jump at the sudden noise, but accept the call instantly upon seeing the caller ID.

“I was just about to call. Is everything okay?” You ask, and your eyes widen in worry at the sound of Minho panting on the other end.

“Y/N,” he breathes, “I—I’m sorry. Coach is keeping us in an extra hour, and—”

“Slow down, Minho,” you urge, “first catch your breath.”

He hums in agreement, and your face falls when you process his words, realizing the true reason he called. Although you know he’s not the one to blame, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that creeps up inside of you as you glance down at the chocolates and favorite foods of his sitting on the table.

“You’re saying you can’t make it today, right?” The words come out softer than you mean for them to, and Minho sighs regretfully.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know we have that big game coming up tomorrow, and—look, if you want, I can leave practice.” His voice is gentle, apologetic, and tears sting your eyes upon hearing how willing he is to risk getting kicked from the team for you.

“No, you can’t,” you shake your head frantically. “I’m not letting you suffer the consequences of that for something this small. Go have fun, okay? We do this regularly anyways, we can just meet up next time.”

You hear a rustle on his end, followed by the voices of his teammates calling out for him. “Are you sure?” Minho asks, a twinge of concern in his tone.

“I’m sure! Now go, they’re calling you,” you encourage, trying to sound as cheerful as you can to convince him.

It works, to your relief, for Minho’s next words are bright. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice before he ends the call.

There’s a moment of silence as you look at the goodies once more, before your eyes land upon the box of chocolates, and you pry the lid open to find them already beginning to melt. Reminding yourself that you won’t be seeing him today anyways, and that there’s no use wasting a perfectly good box of chocolates, you pop one of them in your mouth. The corners of your lips tug upwards at the savory taste, and you let out a deep exhale as you remember that you’re not out of ideas just yet.

“More for me, I guess,” you mutter, trying not to lose hope. “On to try three!”

TRY THREE: GO ALL OUT.

The sign leaning against your legs serves as a constant reminder of just how whipped you are for Minho, and at times it amazes even you just how far you’re willing to go for him. Making sure no one else can see it, you take yet another glimpse at the cardboard sign you spent the entirety of last night making, lifting it enough for it to rest in your lap. You stare at the bolded words drawn on the surface in capital letters, surrounded by small designs and stickers in a variety of colors.

I might strike out asking, but will you go to the winter formal with me?

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of your throat and you find yourself yet again bewildered by the sheer cheesiness of it all. You can’t bring yourself to raise it, however, telling yourself that tensions are too high right now and that you’ll show him later when there’s no potential of the sign distracting him. You set it back down at your feet, and you look past the sea of people to search for Minho in the group of players on the baseball field.

Murmurs of “the score is so close,” “we need a home run to win,” and “we’re gonna lose, aren’t we?” echo around you in the stadium, and your mind immediately flashes back to Minho’s words from before the game.

“If I win, you have to do any one thing that I want for me.”

You had teased him and asked him what he’d do if he lost, but Minho had only shrugged nonchalantly, telling you that he’d do anything you wanted if that was the case.

Looking down at him on the field now, you watch as he readies himself at the batter’s box, and despite the near-impossible chance of him securing the team a win, something about the blaze in his eyes tells you that he won’t be losing today. Just before the pitcher can pitch the ball, he looks up towards the stands, his eyes scanning the crowd to find you. When he does, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t mouth anything, but somehow through his gaze, you already know exactly what he wants to tell you: he’s going to win.

The pitcher steps forward, raising his leg and leaning back with the ball before he throws it with a single fluid motion. The ball spirals forward towards Minho with immense speed, and you watch breathlessly as he positions himself to hit it. He swings the bat, and a gasp leaves your mouth.

What happens next is a blur, and by the time you can process what’s happening, Minho has already tossed the bat and reached base one. You squint your eyes as you search for the ball, managing to glimpse it right before it falls outside the gates of the field. You cover your mouth with your hands in shock as you look back down to Minho just in time to watch his foot touch the second base.

“He hit it all the way out!” Shouts and exclamations of surprise reverberate around you as the audience rises to its feet eagerly.

Base three.

All attempts to stop him are useless at this point, you realize, for Minho’s already making his way to the final base, his features hardened by determination. Just before he reaches the end, Minho finds you in the crowd once more. His gaze remains locked on yours as he flashes you a small grin, his foot touching the home plate at the exact same moment.

Home run.

For an instant, there’s nothing but dead silence, and then the entire audience erupts into applause, the noise turning almost unbearable as it rings in your ears. The edge of the sign scratches against your leg as you stand up, and you’re reminded of the dance as you impulsively grab hold of the cardboard, getting on top of your seat as you prepare to raise it. When you inspect the field one last time to ensure Minho is still there, you find that he’s lost in the arms of his teammates, all shouting excitedly and clapping him on the back among cheers.

Your shoulders slump as you realize that there’s no way he’ll be able to see your sign with all the ruckus, and you dejectedly get down from your seat, making your way off the stands and exiting the stadium.

As you trudge home, you wonder if you’ll even be able to face him without blushing, let alone ask him to the formal.

TRY FOUR: NO INTERRUPTIONS.

The next time you see Minho, you’re stepping through the open door of Chan’s house, and you’re met with the sight of the entire team laughing recklessly, joking around and shoving each other playfully over a set of pizza boxes. Small decorations and streamers are hung up in colors of red and green to highlight the approach of Christmas, and something about the setting makes you feel delightfully warm. It’s somehow exactly the kind of celebration you imagined, and when you look towards the team once again, you find Minho in the center of all the chatter, just as you always do.

When he catches you standing before them, he freezes, and his gaze morphs into something different, almost hungry, as his eyes slowly trail over your figure from top to bottom. The intensity of his stare seems to burn into you, and you watch in quiet anticipation as he separates himself from the group to walk up to you.

There are no excuses now, you think. No interruptions, no distractions, no reasons to prevent you from asking him.

“‘Come to the celebration party at Chan’s place, and I’ll tell you there,’” you greet, quoting his text from hours before, and Minho smiles sheepishly. “Well, I’m here now. What is it that you want?”

“You look beautiful,” is his response, and your next words are forgotten as your face goes up in flames.

“I’m glad you think so. It took me a long time to find this dress,” you mumble, staring down at your feet to hide your blush.

“I’m not talking about the dress,” Minho says, and your eyes widen as you look back up to search his face. He turns away before you can look too hard, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turn red. “Anyways,” he mumbles, avoiding your eyes, “you told me you wanted to ask me something too, right?”

“You first,” you blurt, still too flustered from his compliment to think straight. Your words, however, are drowned out by a particularly loud screech emitting from the other end of the room, followed by the booming laughter of the rest of the team. Furrowing his brows, Minho cups his ear and leans closer to you, prompting you to repeat the words in his ear. Another series of laughs sounds from the room, and Minho takes your hands in his to bring you to a more empty section of the house.

“Finally,” he breathes when the two of you are safe from disturbances. “I swear, they can get so loud sometimes.”

You giggle at his words. “Tell me what you want for winning,” you urge him, trying to do whatever you can to delay your turn. Minho’s face darkens, and something about the way his gaze turns intense makes your heart race.

“Look up,” he whispers, his hands tightening around yours. You obey, your eyes drifting up as you find yourself staring at what you think could be one of the most beautiful bunches of mistletoe you’ve ever seen, hanging from the ceiling and twinkling under the soft light. You gulp upon realizing its implications, your tongue swiping over your lips out of nervous habit. You look back down to face him, and you find that his expression reflects the same desire he displayed before, his eyes sparkling as the corners of his lips turn up.

“We can’t break tradition, now can we?” He teases, leaning forward just enough for your noses to touch, his lips barely ghosting over yours so you can feel the warmth of his breath upon your face. When you close your eyes, your own lips parting, he closes the distance.

Time seems to freeze in place as his soft lips meet yours, his hands dropping to your waist as his lips move slowly against yours. There’s a passion in his kiss that you’re reciprocating before you even know it, and a slight smile shapes his lips that you can’t help but mirror. He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours for a moment as he catches his breath.

“You have to do any one thing that I want right?” He breathes. “Go to the winter formal with me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes flying open in shock and immediately finding his as you soften at the sincerity in his face.

“You mean that?” You murmur, and a smirk graces Minho’s features, one you’ve become so familiar with after countless years of him teasing you.

“’Course I do. That’s what you were gonna ask me too, right?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. You blink for a moment, tilting your head slightly as you process his words. Then it hits you.

"Juyeon told me I wasn’t being obvious!” You grumble, pouting in dismay.

“Well,” Minho laughs, “I only had a small idea that you liked me. What confirmed it was that sign you made—I might strike out asking, right? I may have gotten a peek at it when you left to get water before the game.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t look! That’s not fair,” you whine, hitting his shoulder playfully.

“It’s the reason I’m asking you now though, isn’t it? So tell me, Y/N. Will you go to the dance with me?” Minho smiles softly, the light in his eyes is akin to that of the mistletoe berries gleaming above you. You can’t stop your mouth from pulling into a wide grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to you, letting your lips answer his question as they meet his once more.

LEE MINHO; TRY ONE: SUCCESS!

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lustbile-archive · 4 years

Text

Abandoned Part 2

MarkxReader

Word Count: 7.4k+

Summary/Warnings: You can try to pretend that the monster you met on halloween night didn’t actually exist, and you can definitely pretend that he didn’t do what he did. You can pretend all you want but that doesn’t change anything, and it also doesn’t change the fact that you cant stop thinking about him every night. Monster!Mark

PART 1 HERE

It took you about three full weeks before you could return to the warehouse again. It wasn’t that you weren’t thinking about it, you thought about it every single day in fact. The building itself stood tall right in the center of town, looming over you and everyone else who was blissfully unaware of what lived in its walls, and you were forced to pass it every single day of your life.

So no, its not that you weren’t thinking about it, or him more specifically, but the fear of facing the truth of what had happened that night, what you had done and let him do to you, made you avoid the building like the plague. Just the cringe you got from remembering the unconvincing lie you had to conjure to explain to your friend why you returned with wrinkled clothes stained with black liquid made you wish the building would just disappear.

You’d drop your eyes whenever you had to pass by the building, a queasy and unsure bile stinging your throat, and every time your friend would bring up your little halloween adventure to impress someone irrelevant, you’d brush it off with a comment of, ‘nothing really interesting happened, just an old gross building.’

But your avoidance or denial did nothing to erase him from your mind. He plagued your dreams, lived freely in your thoughts and every minuscule space in your bones. The things your mind subjected you to in your unconscious state, for any other person, would be things of nightmares.

Everything was all sharp teeth, a thick dripping black liquid, and a grinning boy whose tongue was longer than your forearm danced in your fantasies like the building blocks for your own personal fucked up prince charming.

But regardless, the idea of seeing and experiencing him again, and maybe even stealing a few answers in the process, pulled you to the building like a magnet. The whistling air the ran through the rooms, the broken glass, and crumbling walls called to you like a siren, and after three weeks of denying it, you were getting dressed and sneaking out in the middle of the night to go find him.

It was colder than it was on halloween, the biting cold of a dark November night greeting you as you escaped the walls of your home. Every step you took as you walked to your fate was followed by a harsh bite pressed deeply against your bottom lip, and the moment you were faced with the same decrepit door way that you and your friend had snuck into that night, you knew that it was the point of no return.

Trekking through the rubble of the old building was different now that you were alone. Every room devoid of light felt darker, the creaking of wood louder, and it felt like every step you took was seen by millions of invisible eyes. The only thing that stopped you from letting out a yelp in surprise when a couple of large rats ran directly in front of you, was the fear that something other than the creature you were searching for would hear and find you before he could.

It took you about half an hour to find the room again, but your lack of company and the fact that you kept your arms wound tightly around yourself stopping you from reaching for your phone made it feel like an eternity. You silently scold yourself for not remembering better, or leaving some form of marker to remind you where to go, but as you finally stand in front of the glass filled room, the only feelings that truly remain in your chest is the dread of unknowing and a silent wish that your search had taken just a little longer.

The door to the room lets out a jarring scream that echoes down the halls and makes you flinch as you push it open. The heavy metal has become uneven with age and scraps along the floor loudly, and you find yourself conflicted in hoping that the sounds you cause tipped the creature off to your presence and praying that he didn’t hear it at all.

You cringe as your breath and heartbeat are the only noises that drum against your ears after the door slams shuts behind you. And as you stand frozen in the hallow room, a small part of you is disappointed that he’d isn’t standing there waiting like your knight in shining armor.

The glass still glitters just as beautifully as it had so many nights before, and you almost curse it for being the thing that got you into your position in the first place.

But as you stand scowling at the inanimate pieces, it’s at this moment you realize you have no idea how to get him to know you’re there, as well as realizing that you’re not sure if you want him to know as it would mean you’d have to face something that you hadn’t even fully decided was real.

Your mind was still struggling to wrap itself around the events that had happened in the room that you stand in, and even with proof that the room at least exists, you can feel your mind trying to convince you that you had completely fabricated the creature. Something about the air that whips around you makes you feel like your losing your sense of reality, and with a last push of courage you decide there’s only one way to learn whether or not your mind is turning against you.

With a timid tone and a slight crack to your voice, you whisper out a quiet ‘hello’ as you finally move further into the room, your shaky voice bouncing off the cement walls almost as if to mock you.

When you’re met with nothing but deafening silence, you try once again only slightly louder.

You finally untangle yourself from your own arms, the heat you had accumulated almost immediately spilling from the sleeves of your sweater as you move to pull your phone from the band of your skirt and bush the button that will illuminate the room with its flashlight.

You let out a few more calls, the tension slipping from your shoulders each time before you find yourself pushing around the glass with your shoe as if you were kicking rocks. You almost cover the entire surface area of the desolate room and start to even slip into boredom before you have to face the fact that you are most definitely avoiding any space within three feet of the pitch black doorway of the closet that the creature had emerged from the first time you saw him.

With a deep breath that rattles your chest, you move closer to what feels like the visual representation of your personal demise. Glass loudly crunches under your shoes as you get closer and closer to the doorway and it feels like your heart has made residence in your throat.

You feel like your getting closer to a forbidden world as you now stand less than a foot away from the space who’s only hint of life had been the boy you had seen weeks ago, your flashlight close enough now to illuminate it a bit, but the only thing the article light exposes is a blank wall that mocks you.

The voice that resides in the back of your mind screams at you to turn around and leave, but your body moves with a mind of its own as you take your first step into the closet.

Without thinking, you lean forward, your hand pressing gently against the cinder wall that acts as the back of the small closet. You’ve convinced yourself that maybe it’s a false wall, that it will collapse and reveal the boy that’s lived in your dreams for so many nights. You feel slightly silly letting your mind wander to something that’s only been done in mystery novels, but considering you’re looking for a boy with a shark teeth and a demon’s tongue nothing seems imposible now.

With a harder shove and a deep huff from your chest, you start to cave into yourself for being foolish enough to let yourself believe in a secret passageway. You’re ready to tuck your tail between your legs and run out of the building in shame, when you feel something softly brush your shoulder.

Just the same as last time you jump, your phone slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor. A muffled crackling noise telling you that the crack that ran from one corner to the dead center of your screen had just been made bigger and even possibly had gained a few acquaintances. The sound of the loud yelp that leaves you being the only sound to join it other than the quiet gasp that comes from beside you.

He’s close enough that you can make out his features regardless of the dark, his mouth hanging in a soft o shape and his eyebrows lifted towards his hairline in shock from your reaction. You both stand there for a moment, a heavy silence between you showing that he was just as shaken by your presence as you were with his. And as realization and reality begin to bleed back into both of your brains, you feel your muscles relax as you lean back against the wall and the black liquid starts to drip out of his mouth again in excitement.

His eyes dance with happiness at seeing you again, the sight endearing enough that you’re weirdly unaffected by the liquid that begins to splash on the floor between his feet. With the images that had filled your mind for the past weeks, you find yourself pleasantly surprised by how cute he is, also slightly disappointed in yourself for letting yourself forget.

“Hi,” you speak first, your voice airy with relief. He’s not even half as scary as you had convinced yourself, and you could feel your heart start to beat rapidly at the sight of his excited grin, sharp teeth and all.

“I didn’t think you’d come back!” he speaks louder than you expected, his giddiness making you smile but his words slightly breaking your heart.

You only get a moment to sulk over the idea of him thinking he’d never see you again, before he’s all but jumping on you and latching his dripping mouth to your neck.

You freeze for a moment, the shock of his eagerness and the tingle that runs up your spine at the scrape of his teeth making you mind skip a beat. You almost allow him to continue on, greedily accepting the feeling of his warm tongue lapping at your skin, but your consciousness returns to you quickly enough that you can will yourself to lift your arms and gently push him away.

There’s a wet pop as he reluctantly pulls away, his mouth leaving a trail of liquid behind to drip down your skin. You’re ashamed of yourself for the way your heart clenches at his look of confusion and disappointment, but you tell yourself you can’t let anything happen again without talking to him and getting answers.

“You don’t have to do that,” you whisper gently, your hands sliding up to hold the sides of his face.

You’re both slightly panting already, your breath puffing from the feeling of his mouth, but his seems to come from his confusion and worry.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes, his eyes widening as his words spill out, “you seemed to enjoy it last time so I thought… you did like it last time didn’t you?”

You smile softly at his concern, “I did,” your head bobbing slightly to reassure him, “I did a lot. I just- we can talk first. Like what’s your name?’’

His eyebrows thread together, his head tilting to the side reminding you of a confused puppy, “name?”

Just the one word asked with a questioning tone threw you off, and it takes you a moment to collect your thoughts enough to understand you’ll have to explain what a name is.

“You know…” your hands move away from his face as they flail slightly as you think, his own hands compensating for the lack of physical contact by landing on the bend of your back, “like is there something specific that people call only you. Y’know to get your attention and stuff.”

“Oh!” he says, excited to understand slightly better, “well…. my friends call me Mark!”

“Mark…” you test out the weirdly normal name on your tongue, a small spike of shame running through you at the fact that you assumed it would be anything different, “cool…”

You offer your own name, the way his eyes light up at the syllables making your chest swell. There’s a beat of silence after he takes his turn in repeating your name, and you can feel yourself melting into the moment.

“I wanted to talk to you more,” he speaks up again, his fingers flexing against your back as his tongue dips out to wet his lips, “but I had to run off, and you took longer to come back then I thought so like…. but we can talk now!”

Your chest feels hallow when he mentions the time it took you to return, and you start to stutter to defend yourself, “well I.. what happened I had… I had never had someone do what you did so quickly after meeting so like, I’ll admit I was a little freaked out by the whole thing.”

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he steps closer, his body heat crowding you and blocking you from the cold air, “you just smelled and tasted so good… I wished you had said something.”

“No no no,” you rush to correct him, the idea of him thinking any different from how you actually felt stressing you out, “maybe freaked out was the wrong word. Um, it did throw me off a little, but I liked it. I feel like you could probably tell how much I liked it.”

“Yeah..” you both huff out a breath of air after the word lingers around you, “towards the end though you… what was that?”

“The end? I mean um, I came if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Came?”

“Oh you know, an orgasm?”

“Orgasm?”

You huff, your mind reeling at the idea of having to explain another word that came so naturally to you. You shake your head softly in disbelief, before taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, you know,” you start trying to string the right words together to describe such a thing, “you know when you did what you did. And you know what happened at the end. It felt good the whole time, but at the end it felt really really good. I’m sorry I’ve never explained this before.”

He laughs at your exasperated expression, before leaning his forehead against yours, “that sounds weird,” his bluntness makes you choke a bit on your breath before he continues, “can I do that?”

“Do it…?” you feel like your brain is working a million miles a minute as you stand with him in the pitch black, “I mean yeah, probably.”

“Probably?” his laugh almost taunts you, and you start to believe that he may be messing with you slightly, “do you think we could try?”

“You mean you want me to,” you gesture to his crotch, your eyes darting between his eyes and the space between his thighs, “like we have sex.”

“Okay,” he reasons, his head shaking as he pulls you even closer, “I’m clearly not getting this, but if sex will make an orgasm happen then yeah, I want to have sex.”

“Right,” you say, your face warming in embarrassment as you start to remember that whatever the boy that’s in front of you is, the last thing he is is a child. He knew enough to do what he did to you the first time, there’s no real reason for you to be beating around the bush like you are, “cool.”

“Cool.”

Any anxiety that still lingers in your chest, you swallow down, your hands lifting to return to the sides of his face in the process. With a soft sigh, you tilt your chin up, your forehead brushing against his as you move to press your mouth against his.

If it wasn’t for the first time you met him, you probably would have never dared to put your mouth against the mouth of a boy who drools a thick black slime. But with his slightly chapped lips brushing eagerly against yours, and the fact that the liquid slips into your mouth warm and smooth pushes any questions you may have out of your mind.

His lips are sloppy, his lips covering yours as he tries to follow your movements. He seems to be very aware of how sharp his teeth are, as they scrape gently across your bottom lip just enough that they won't break the skin. Your eyes slide shut and a soft moan rolls from your chest as he presses you flush against the wall.

It’s not hard to dip your tongue experimentally into his mouth as if hangs open in awe of the situation. You greedily lick across the roof of his mouth, reveling in the way it makes him shiver against you, and it's only a moment before you realise how much you're enjoying the taste of the liquid that spills from his mouth into yours.

It’s a soft sweetness, a dull taste that only hits you when you’ve had enough of it spill onto your tongue that it's dripping from the corners of your lips. The after taste of cotton candy after a long day at the fair, the smell of fresh strawberries so strong that you can taste it like a memory on the back of your tongue, licking your thumb to get rid of a smudge on your friend’s cheek only to taste the remains of the piece of candy she gave you hours ago. And as he pushes himself in the space between your legs in the cramped space, you can feel yourself fall into an addiction with the way he tastes.

He follows in your steps, his own tongue hesitantly dipping itself into your mouth along with the sticky substance, and when you feel the sharp tapered end of his tongue lick at the back of your teeth, you waste no time in sucking harshly on the muscle and pulling it deeper in your mouth.

The way the liquid coats your tongue makes you feel like you're swimming in syrup. Your body relaxed and lax to the extent that even when you feel his long tongue prod at the back of yours, your gag reflex is non existent, and you start to question if it just tastes good, or if it's truly making you lose yourself against his lips.

When he moves slowly away from your mouth to travel across your cheek, is when you finally get a moment to think. His tongue drags out of your mouth at a snail’s pace, the tip curling and tugging at the corner of your lips making you let out the first sound that’s not muffled by the space of his mouth, and you feel him grin against your jaw.

“Mark,” you try his name out once again as your hands move against him. One hand curls around the back of his head to thread your fingers through his wild hair, as you use your other to push the moment along.

You drag your nails slowly down his arm, your lip tucking between your teeth with a grin when he shudders again. When your hand finally reaches behind you, you wrap your fingers around his wrist. It doesn’t take much strength to tug his hand away from you back, and even less effort is needed when you guide his twitching fingers to slip under your sweater to press against your chest through the thin bra you wear underneath.

After flexing your own hand over his a few times, he picks up immediately. His own fingers kneading softly at the flesh, as your hand falls to leave him to his own devices and reach underneath your skirt.

It only takes a few tugs at the fabric of your underwear for them to pool around your ankles, and with a few steps and a small kick, the fabric is forgotten on the dirty floor a few feet away.

His tongue is back to showing its full potential, the thick muscle curling around your neck as he mouths at the skin below your jaw, and your traveling hand now dips into the band of his pants to tug him closer to you, your hips softly canting against his.

“Mark, please,” you quietly plead. He hums curiously as his body curls tighter against yours and you’re reminded that it’s better to be blunt with the boy against you, “can I take this off?”

“Yes,” he mutters against your neck, treating the sensitive skin protecting your jugular as if it’s his source of life and refusing to move away, “please.”

You tilt your head the best to your ability with the way his tucked against you, your own teeth desperately biting like a rabid animal to get as many bites at his soft skin as you can, your hand moving to push the fabric of his bottoms down his hips until you can feel his length release from the restraints.

You waste no time to wrap your hand around the base of him, and as you move your palm and fingers to drag up the length of him, you can’t help the quiet gasp you let out.

He’s bigger than you’d imagine he’d be with how slight his frame is, and even as you remind yourself that your sense of touch is probably tricking you a bit into thinking it's larger than reality, you know it’s not tricking you with the fact that something is slightly different.

It’s not abnormal in any sense, which isn’t surprising since, aside from the tongue and teeth, Mark just looks like a normal human guy, but some nagging in your mind tells you there’s something that’s unique.

You chance a glance down, rolling your eyes at yourself for letting your curiosity override your full knowledge that it’s probably too dark to see anything, but to you’re very pleasant surprise, you see that regardless of the busted screen, the flashlight of your phone still shines brightly enough to light up the space around your feet.

There’s still shadows dancing across you as you slowly begin to stroke him as he’s pressed against your hip, but you take what you can get in the moment.

Your hand had tricked you a bit, he wasn’t as large as your fingers had told you, but he’s still larger than expected. Though, your eyebrow raises slightly at the rest of the visual information you see. The swollen tip leaks a similar black as his lips, and you silently wish you were more shocked by the fact. And truthfully the small dusting of a royal blue color that covers the tip of him doesn’t fully surprise you either, but you admit the two bulbs that you can only describe as knot-like that rest above his base does give you a weird combination of confusions and excitement in your chest.

You shake your head, silently deciding you had come too far to act surprised now, so instead you brush your thumb against the liquid that now spills from his tip, and start to guide him closer by wrapping one leg around his hip.

His hand that’s not busied by groping at your chest jumps immediately to wrap around your lifted knee, his body pressing tighter against yours and a groan rattling against your neck in response.

You hesitate before you go any further, everything feeling suddenly too fast, and in an attempt to drag it out just a little longer, you let go of him. Regardless of the way it makes you feel, you ignore the quiet sound of disappointment he lets out against your skin, and instead run your hand up your body and across both yours and his neck to collect as much of the liquid on your fingers as possible.

It’s only when you feel like you’ve dipped your hand in thinned honey, do you return to the space between you where both of your bodies are begging for attention. You coat his skin in his own mess, the quiet noises he makes filling your ear again.

You pull him closer with your leg, finally allowing yourself some relief as you begin to drag his head against your dampened skin, the warm tip bumping against your clit in a way that makes your hips twitch.

The liquid worked as well as you had hoped as you slowly guide him to press into you, his slicked skin making the intrusion perfect and smooth. It doesn’t take any time at all before he’s seated fully inside you, and the way he stretches you out makes your head tilt back until it knocks against the cinder of the wall and your fingers harshly tug at the strands of hair caught between them.

You hold him against you for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being completely full and the small hums in content he lets out along your own. You feel your body flutter around him as you try to adjust to the foreign feeling of him, the widened bulbs around his base stretching your farther than you had ever imagined. His body reacts to you clenching with stuttering hips that aid in the air being knocked from your lungs and his monstrous tongue flexes around your throat tighter, slowing the blood flow to your head and making you feel like you’re floating in the dark space.

“You feel so good,” he speaks truthfully, his voice muffled and strained as he speaks around his extended tongue, his sharp teeth scraping against your skin as he slurs.

“Okay,” you find your voice finally as you start to calm down. One hand falls from his hair, trailing slowly down his body making him shiver against you, and finally gripping at his hip, “you can move.”

With your words, you push him slightly away from you. Your body clenches in protest at losing even the few inches of him that slips from him, the space that he slips from already becoming greedy for the heavy weight of him inside you.

He must agree with your hungry body, as even though he stays pressed against you everywhere else, he lets out a small whine at the feeling of you pushing him away.

The sounds of protest quickly die when you slip your hand under his shirt to press into the small of his back. Your nails dig slightly into his soft skin as you pull him to fuck into you again, every inch of him dragging against the nerves inside you perfectly making your teeth clench. He in return lets out a pleased purr that makes a goofy grin stretch across your lips.

“Just like that,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, before you let your own tongue slip out to lick at the sensitive skin. His hips stutter again as he chokes slightly, but thankfully the action doesn’t affect him enough to distract him from being a quick learner.

He pulls out about the same amount you had shown him, the widest parts of him tugging at your opening slightly from how snugly you’re wrapped around him, something about him moving on his own this time making your eyes flutter and roll.

Though he retreated gently, his excitement seems to take over his senses, as when he thrusts back into you, it's rough. Any air you had collected since he first filled you escapes again, a surprised yelp joining it.

Once he gets a taste of controlling the motions, it's as if something snaps inside of him. As if he’s become slightly wild, he starts to move faster and faster with each thrust. His hips are sloppy and erratic, his drool almost doubling in volume as its pools and drips around your neck, and for a moment you silently ask yourself what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Your hand remains on his back, your nails now digging harshly into the skin of his back in a desperate attempt to have something solid to cling on to. Your head knocks into the wall behind you with his thrusts, but the feeling of him drilling into you as your combined fluids drip around him turns your brain to mush and any pain is drowned out by the pleasure that bites at your stomach.

Broken syllables and slurs of his name and pleads slip through your teeth as you start to lose yourself to his rapid movements, and you're only vaguely aware of the way your own hips start to rock against him.

The way his body twists and presses against you makes it almost impossible to hold on to him, this and the small voice inside your head that tells you that this probably won’t be lasting as long as you may hope makes your hand move up and away. Instead of holding onto his back, you desperately grope to find the hand that still presses against your chest.

Slipping your fingers under your shirt along with his, you tug his stubborn hand away from your chest. His fingers are stiff with confusion as you pull his hand down your body until it’s tucked between your legs, but when you press the tips of them against your dampened skin he relaxes.

“Here,” you whisper again, your voice almost too timid to raise in the crowded space. Your fingers begin to move in slow circles guiding his to do the same as they press softly against your neglected clit, “touch me here please.”

After the words leave you, you remove your hand to rejoin the other that’s still tucked into his messy hair. Mark shows to be a quick and eager learner, as his digits swipe against your buzzing nerves perfectly, the feeling pushing you closer and closer to your finish.

You fist his soft hair between your fingers, making both of your feet shuffle around the floor as his hips pulse quicker from the pain. You guide him again, his tongue dragging against the center of your throat and making you groan as you lead his mouth back to yours.

“Somethings happening,” he mutters before your mouth pushes against his, your lips greedily sucking at his warm tongue as you finally admit you’ve become obsessed with the taste of him, “feels so good.”

“Don’t stop,” both of your words are muffled and slurred as you refuse to move too far from the others tongues. You know he’s close, and the way he focuses on rolling smooth circles against you, you know you are too, “want you so bad Mark.”

The sound of his name sputtering out of your messy lips is his trigger, the sound of it hitting him in the chest and his lower belly, and soon he’s feeling washes of pleasure all over his form.

Regardless of the noises that slip from him and the way his hips become even sloppier than what they were before, his determined fingers never let up. This and the feeling of him coming deep inside you, a feeling that feels almost unending as he fills you with an inhuman amount of his come, has you reeling.

As if it was even possible, you cling to him even more. A tight knot snapping in your belly as you clench and shiver around him. Every moan and whine you let out matching his perfectly as they swirl together in the minuscule space between your mouths.

He doesn’t stop moving as he carries you through your finish, wet noises surrounding you as the evidence of his orgasm starts to push and drip out of your from the speed of his thrusts. The muscles in your back begin to go lax as you let him get in his last pushes as you anticipate him stopping soon, but after a moment you realize he’s not slowing down or even going soft inside you.

“Mark?” your head tilts as you break the sloppy kiss you share, but any other words that could follow up die on your tongue as his fingers continue to move and make sparks of almost painful pleasure shock your body

“Feels so good,” he repeats, his head falling until his forehead rests on your shoulder, and with a strained and shaky moan you realize he has no intention of stopping, “wanna make you feel good.”

“You did Mark, you-“ your words are cut off again by an overwhelmed moan leaving you at the feeling of him nudging against a spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your jaw drop.

“I could do this forever,” he promises, and for your sanity, you pray he’s exaggerating.

It feels as if your own body betrays you when you feel even more of your own arousal gush around him, or maybe you are losing your sanity and it’s only more of his come being forcibly pushed from your body by his hips. Either way, you feel a terrible promise of another overwhelming orgasm creeping down your spine.

His hand abandones it’s hold on your leg, as he wraps it around your waist again. His arm holds a surprising amount of strength as it squeezes relentlessly around you, and as he pulls you against him enough that your lower body is pulled away from the wall, the way he pushes into can only be described as animalistic.

Any hope of keeping quiet flies out the broken windows as the way he pulls you apart with his fingers and thrusts has inhuman sounds ripping their way out of your throat. Your nails claw harshly into his scalp, and your entire body thrashes in his hold, and for a moment you start to think he’s turning you into a monster just like himself.

The second orgasm is almost painful in the way it makes you fall apart. Your eyes ache from how far they roll back into your skull, and your back arches at the exact spot his arm is wrapped around you. You fear that the muscles in your abdomen may cramp from how rapidly they flex, and the arches of your feet join in from the way your toes curl.

Mark revels in the way you let go, he’s enthralled by the way you feel and look against him as you lose every ounce of your shame and guard. He’s sure however you’re feeling is different than the way he feels with his finish, and he loves nothing more than the idea that it’s him making such a beautiful creature fall apart by just fucking in to you.

The now familiar tightened feeling returns to his gut as he watches you. His hips pick up again as he chases the finish. He’s unsure what leaves his body when the pleasure overcomes him, but he’s for certain that he loves the feeling of it filling you completely to the brim and he wants nothing more than to witness it again.

He doesn’t mean to bite you as hard as he does when he starts to orgasm again. It’s as if his mind blanks completely and his mouth is moving towards your shoulder before he can stop it. He feels his dagger like teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder, and for a moment he panics. But the way it feels to empty himself in you, and the pleasured scream that you let out from somewhere deep in your belly makes him clamp down harder.

You breath out the remaining air left in your lungs in relief when you feel his hips stuttering to a stop, his own breath panting hot and damp against your shoulder as he slowly pulls his teeth from the shallow wounds he’s made in your flesh.

You cling to him, your hands slipping out of his hair to let your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug, and his tongue makes a final appearance to lave over your shoulder to collect the beads of blood that form.

He pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting harder than you had thought it would and making one last shiver wrack your body. It almost feels like you’ve had a pile of bricks lifted off you as you become aware of the weakness of your limbs, but Mark seems more than willing to support your weight as you lean against him, both of your breathing calming to a normal pace as his come starts to slowly trickle down the insides of your thighs.

“No words could have described that feeling,” he speaks, breaking the small lull of silence that had fallen over you, and you can’t help the endeared laugh you let out in response.

“Yeah it's pretty cool,” you retort awkwardly, not completely sure of how to respond.

You reluctantly let go of his shoulders, your hands falling to your sides as you lean back into the wall. The weird energy that surrounded you when you first saw him returns, and you’re unsure how to interact with him again, but regardless he either doesn’t seem to mind or doesn’t notice at all.

He makes no effort to hide his distaste for the sudden distance, and after he moves his hands away to tuck himself back into his pants, they move in search for some kind of contact again. He reaches down to take a hold of your hands and pulls them up until they sit wrapped in his, on his shoulders.

“I think you’re cool,” he puts bluntly, and his sparkling eyes as he speaks makes your heart thud against your chest, “what just happened was really cool, so please don’t take so long coming back next time because I want to talk to you more and do more of that okay?”

His rushed words make you breath out a laugh as your head bobs in agreement, “I promise, I’ll come back sooner.”

“And you can come in the daylight if you’re not busy,” he assures, his head nodding in determination, “I know this place can be freaky at night and I don’t want to think you’re uncomfortable when you’re with me.”

It’s so easy to slip into the idea that you’re just talking to some simple sweet boy when his wide eyes dance across your face, but the tapered end of his tongue slipping out to lick at his lips is all you need to remind you that he isn’t at all.

“I‘ll try, but even at night, I’m not uncomfortable with you Mark,” you speak truthfully, the fact even surprising you a bit, “but… can I ask you something?’’

“Anything. Anything at all,” he nods quickly, and you silently question why you were ever apprehensive of the boy who stands in front of you, no matter what he is.

“You… you’re not like me,” you say making his eyebrows knit together in thought. You almost want to kick yourself at his reaction, because obviously he’s not like you. You quickly stutter to explain yourself, “I mean like not human right? So if it’s not too much… what are you?”

You shrink slightly in apprehension as his face falls blank in thought. The gears in his head turn as he turns your question over in his mind, before a soft, shy smile pulls a little too wide across his face.

“I’m me,” he shrugs, “I mean I know I’m different from you. You’re the first person i’ve been this close to, but i’ve seen people before. Like there’s these men that come every once in a while to look at the building and write stuff on papers and some kids that run through, so I know enough to know that we aren’t the same. But my friends always kind of blow me off when I ask about it. They say that what humans are to us is what a dog is to a wolf, but I don’t really know what they’re trying to get at if I’m being honest.”

The analogy he offers rolls through your mind, but for your own sanity, you put the implications of it to the side and decide maybe it’s better if you don’t know.

“Hmm, yeah I don’t really understand what that means either but,” you sigh deeply, your hands flexing to squeeze at his fingers, “I guess it doesn’t matter too much. I was just curious, as long as you’re here that’s all that matters.”

Even in the dark, you see a warm blush flood his face at your words, and a boyish giggle slips from his lips. He shakes his head again before letting your joined hands fall to the side.

“As long as you’re here too,” there’s a heavy silence that falls between you, but unlike earlier it's softer, not awkward and cold.

“It’s late though,” he says with an air of disappointment around him, “I might not be human, but I’m also not nocturnal so I do have to go unfortunately.”

“Oh,” you speak softly, your own disappointment joining the air around you, “I know I should have come earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No no no, don’t be,” he leans his forehead against yours as he reassures you, the action being more intimate than you had anticipated and makes a cheesy smile tug on your lips, “just come earlier next time. We can talk and do what we just did as long as we want.”

“Or as long as I can handle it,” you huff, making him grin, “that’s another very inhuman thing about you Mark, I’ve never met someone with stamina like that in my life.”

“Is that a good thing…?” he asks with a ting of concern in his tone.

“Oh yeah definitely,” you nod, your lip tucking between your teeth momentarily before you continue, “definitely a good thing. It was a little overwhelming, but it felt amazing.”

“That’s so cool,” the word comes out one last time as his eyes sparkle in pride, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me too,” you speak one last time before he moves away.

As he retreats to the pitch black that is the hall of the false closet in front of you, you become very aware of the fact that you’re alone again. The cold air takes its claim back on your skin, and the sticky liquid that dries against your thighs makes you shiver.

A sudden need to be out of the building rushes over you. Regardless of how sweet Mark turned out to be, the building itself feels hollow and mean when he’s not distracting you from it.

You're relieved when you see your phone still holds enough charge that the light still shines, at least making it easier to find. You bend quickly to grab it, a slight shiver running up your spine when you catch the state your lower half is in, the black liquid from his mouth mixing with the evidence of his orgasms that still drips from you that is the exact same black void color. Your fingers scrape against the floor as you grab for your phone and you silently hope you can find a way to clean up before you get home.

A gasp flies from you when you turn your phone over in your hand. The cracking noise proved true in that the screen is more destroyed than when you arrived, but as a cherry on top of the most confusing sundae, you find that on the way to the floor, somehow your phone’s camera had turned on. And from the blinking time stamp on the top of the screen, you see that it had recorded your entire encounter with Mark.

You quickly stop the filming, your thumb pressing harder against the screen than normal and it feels like your heart is lodged in your throat. You can’t even fathom the idea of having video evidence of what you had done together, and what Mark was capable of, but there’s a small devious voice in the back of your mind that taunts you. With a smug arrogance it whispers, ‘at least you can’t convince yourself nothing happened this time.’

#nct smut #mark smut #nct imagine #mark imagine #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 3 years

Text

Take It Out On Me

Happy Smutty Saturday! I seem to like writing things revolving around the pandemic lmaoo I'm sorry, I don't want to make that a habit. This is escapism, after all. Anyways, request from god knows how long ago about angry fucking with our fav gremlin boi

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (Female)

Warnings: 18+. There's some angst, some words exchanged in anger but nothing too crazy. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls don't be dumb) Rough sex, dirty talking, hints of BDSM if you squint, praise kink if you squint.

Word Count: 3K

Tag List: @edteche2 @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar @txmel @gloriousdarkangelsworld @paradoxicaltornado @404-not-found-xix

Enjoy!

When the pandemic started, things weren’t so bad. Your job allowed you to simply work from your laptop, you had turned the second bedroom/storage room into a makeshift office and it worked just fine. Merriell, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He had been laid off, and, at first, was incredibly stressed about it. Thankfully though, you made enough money to cover the rent and the government came through with some financial aid that helped Mer pay for the bills. You’d be okay.

In fact, once the financial stresses were taken care of, it was actually kind of nice. You two hadn’t lived together long, but long enough that you had noticed your schedule differences and long enough to know you had missed each other. Gone were the late nights at the shop that left you lonely and missing his touch. Quite the contrary, during the first few months, you had fucked like rabbits. He had taken you in every room of the house like you were christening the damn thing all over again. The kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, hell, he even had you in your ‘office’ at one point. It was fun, being together all the time.

Until it wasn’t.

Eventually, being cooped up in the same goddamn space all the damn time got to both of you. And you loved him dearly but god he was so fucking annoying sometimes. Usually, you could avoid creating tension either by slinking away to your office for a bit or politely asking him to take a walk. But the office door had been a lost cause ever since he fucked you up against it so hard it came right off its hinges and it was raining outside, so he couldn’t leave. You were stuck.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but the little things that usually didn’t matter had gone unchecked and undiscussed and were beginning to bite at your skin in a way you couldn’t ignore. For you, it had started when you went to the bathroom in the morning, only to discover he had left the toilet seat up and you fell right through. For him it had started when you unconsciously kicked him awake at 6 in the morning on a Saturday. And from there it spiraled. By the time you were ready for coffee, he had drunk the whole pot.

“Thanks for leaving me some.” you had grumbled, and maybe you meant it in good fun, but your sleepy attitude struck a chord, and you knew that because it was met with silence.

So maybe that’s why you didn’t ask him if he wanted some of the eggs you were making for breakfast. And maybe that’s why he decided the be extra loud when he finally made his own breakfast. Pots and pans clanging as he threw them in the sinks, cupboard doors slamming shut and using his fork just a little too violently in a way that set your whole being on edge.

By the end of the day, you had snapped at each other a few times and the tension was so thick that you could barely stand just being next to him. You hated that you were feeling this way, that these stupid lockdowns were driving you away from each other when all you wanted was the opposite. But you couldn’t let go of your anger and annoyance, and it bled through your veins, poisoning any conflict resolution that threatened to act as an antidote to your frustrations.

The last straw came at dinner. He had asked you what you wanted to eat and just the question had you gritting your teeth. So you had replied, telling him that he could make whatever he wanted. That, apparently, was the wrong answer.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he snarled, slamming his hand down onto the kitchen island, “Can you please jus' tell me what the fuck you want?!”

You had done nothing more than glance his way and roll your eyes, not getting a chance to respond before he was launching into a tangent.

“Seriously, what the fuck do ya think I am? Some kinda mind reader?” He asks, one hand gesturing wildly while the other keeps the counter in a white-knuckled grip, “Ya been in this fuckin’ mood all goddamn day and Darlin, I gotta say, ‘m fuckin’ sick of it.”

You bark out a sharp, bitter laugh, “Oh, you’re sick of it?” You stand up from the couch, walking behind it so you can get closer to him, “Like you haven’t been intentionally pissing me off all fucking day.”

His jaw pushes out in annoyance, both hands now gripping the countertop, “I promise you,” and you gotta give the guy credit for trying to regain some composure, “whateva’ I did to make you this goddamn bitchy was not intentional.”

“Oh, so I’m a bitch now?” You counter, folding your arms over your chest.

His eyes close and his chin tucks into his chest, recognizing his mistake but unwilling to apologize for it, “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Tell me.” you insist, stepping closer to him, “Tell me what a bitch I’ve been. Blame all your problems on me. Because that’s just easier, isn’t it?”

It’s not true. You know. He knows it. But right now, all you can focus on is the anger that’s been boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y’know what? Maybe this-” he cuts himself off, but his quick gesture between the two of you finishes the rest of his sentence for him. Silence fills the kitchen and now there’s salt added to the wound. Hurt swirls with your anger and you can’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried.

“No, say it.” you encourage bitterly, crossing the line into the kitchen, “Tell me how moving in together was a mistake. Tell me how you can’t fucking stand living with me. Tell me how I’m so bitchy and how sick you are of my shit. Tell me-”

Before you can finish antagonizing him, he’s got you pushed up against the wall, his hands braced on either side of your head. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath, angry and panting on your skin. You look into his eyes, seeing them hard and cold with his anger but something else lying behind them.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and before you can even begin to be angry about it his lips are on yours and you can’t breathe.

His anger is very apparent, even as he kisses you. It’s rough, bruising, but it’s an outlet for all the negative feelings you’ve been experiencing so you kiss him back just as hard. You reach for him, unsure if you’re working to pull him closer and push him away. It doesn’t really matter though because he doesn’t let you touch him for long. Within seconds both your wrists are taken in one hand and pinned above your head. You fight against his hold, despite knowing it’s futile. In retaliation you bite down hard on his lip, feeling only a little satisfied when he pulls away in shock, his free hand coming up to check for blood. There's not.

You meet his eyes with a defiant smirk. He wants to play dirty? Fine. You can play that way too.

He steps away and for a second you think he’s actually going to walk away. But then-

“Get your ass to the bedroom.”

You almost laugh. If he thinks you’re, in any way, going to be compliant tonight, he’s sadly mistaken. Instead, you cross your arms, falling back to lean against the wall, your eyes never leaving his. He chuckles, an angry smirk crossing his features. He looks away, shaking his head, tongue poking against the side of his cheek in complete disbelief. Before you can think of your next move he’s got you thrown over his shoulder, marching the both of you down the hallway to your shared bedroom. You squirm, trying to push yourself to an angle that would let you fight his grip but it’s no use. By the time you work his hold free, he’s already dropping you on the bed. Although dropping may not be the right word, he all but slams you down, leaving you momentarily breathless.

Even then, he moves quickly. His hands move to his belt, quickly working the clasp back and off so he can slide his jeans off. Despite your anger, you feel heat pool between your legs when the fabric drops to reveal bare skin. It’s nothing new for Merriell, but it never fails to do something to you. He knows it too, a cocky smile gracing his face as he sheds his shirt too. He only lets you look for a second before he’s quickly flipping you onto your stomach. He forces you up onto your knees, hand finding the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you as he climbs onto the mattress behind you.

You put up a bit of a fight, although you’re becoming less and less focused on your anger and frustration and more focused on the feeling on his cock pressing against the back of your jean-clad thigh.

“Always seem to forget how fucking stubborn you are.” He growls into your ear, pressing himself against the line of you body while his free hand starts to unbutton and work off your pants, “Hard headed and difficult.” he continues, biting roughly on your earlobe just to here your intake of breathe and to feel you struggle against his hold, “A fucking brat.” He punctuates the last words by tugging both your jeans and panties down around your thighs roughly. You hiss at the forcefulness of the action, feeling the burn of the fabric against your skin contrasting with cool air against your bare pussy.

You’re completely at his mercy.

His presence is dominating, even though you can’t see him, his hands, one pressing on your neck to keep you still and the other caressing the swell of your ass, let you know exactly who's in charge. You don’t struggle, both of you knowing how much you want him, but you still hold an air of defiance. Your face is turned so you can breathe, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. He tries to draw you out, teasing you by dragging his cock against your wetness. He alternates between taking the tip and rubbing it between your folds and fucking the space between your thighs. He knows what it does to you, can see the way you fight the urge to beg by pressing your lips together.

But you don’t fold.

“C’mon baby,” he taunts, venom laced in his words, “I know you want it.” As he talks the hand on your neck slides up into your hair, “Know you want that attitude fucked outta ya,” He tugs your hair roughly, pulling a gasp from your lips and forcing you to look back at him, “All ya gotta do is ask.”

You breathe heavily for a second, eyes locked with his, “Go fuck yourself.”

He growls, shoving your head back down into the mattress and thrusting into you roughly. Your back arches, eyes rolling back in your head as he begins to fuck you, not allowing you even a second to catch your breath. The second he sees bliss cross your features, he’s insufferable.

He laughs against a moan, “Feisty,” he comments, “but the second my dick’s in ya, you’re putty in my hands.”

You’re desperate to prove him wrong. You force your eyes open, locking them with his and pushing back against his thrusts, the headboard already banging against the wall with the force of both your movements.

“Feel’s good doesn’t it?” He asks, free hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack.

“I’ve had better.” Your voice bounces with each thrust, but you’re determined to keep your composure, despite the pleasure that makes your toes curl.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and he lays another harsh smack to your rear, just to see your body react, “Liar,” he hisses, fingers digging into your skin.

His angle changes ever so slightly so that his cock now drags against your sweet spot with every movement and you can’t force your moan back. His eyes light up, laughing delightedly at the sound, “Had betta’ my ass.” he comments, leaning down to bite roughly on your shoulder, effectively leaving marks all across them, “Ya jus’ can’t help ya’self. You love it. Love the feeling of my cock in you.”

“Who says I’m thinking of you?” You shoot back.

You know it’s not true. Merriell was unlike any lover you had before, you were hopelessly and utterly ruined for anyone else. But that didn’t matter. The comment, however untruthful, hits his possessive streak just like you knew it would. He pulls out of you, flipping you onto your back and nearly ripping the remaining fabric off your body before resuming his brutal pace, this time using your wrists on either side of your head to hold you down. In this position he can ensure that you’re looking at him, leaving no doubt in either of your minds that it’s him that makes you feel like this. Only him.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growls, leaving bite marks all along your skin. By the time you’re done, there won’t be a part of your body that’s not marked by him.

He stops talking for a second, focusing instead on giving you the fucking of your life. He’d never fucked you like this. He’d been possessive, sweet, caring, loving, jealous. But never angry. Not like this. Every ounce of frustration and anger he’d felt was redirected to his hips, the air tense with the hurtful words you’d both said earlier.

“C’mon,” you taunt when he slows for a second, lips turned up in a sneer even as you pant, breathless, “That all you got?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, hoisting your legs up onto his shoulders, releasing your hands so he can move one to your throat, pressing you into the bed that way instead. It’s hard for you to breathe that way, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. And if you thought he was fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to the way he’s fucking you now.

The new angle allows him to trust deeper into you and your stubborn resolve begins to fade a little. Your hands scramble to latch onto his forearm that holds you down, not trying to push him away but just searching for purchase, for support somewhere you’ve always found it. He’s not faring much better, head rolling back onto his shoulders with a groan as he fucks you. You’re both quickly abandoning your anger in favor of the pleasure that you provide each other.

“Merriell,” you mewl, a peace offering without even realizing it.

His head snaps back to look down at you, eyes sparkling at the sound of your name on his lips for the first time tonight, “There she is,” he pants, leaning down to kiss you, open-mouthed and filthy. It’s still harsh, but the anger behind his motions is nearly gone, “My good girl, huh?”

You don’t even need to nod, to voice your confirmation. It’s not even really a question. You both know you’d come to an unspoken agreement.

“Fuck, baby girl.” he moans against your mouth, slowing his trusts just enough so he can really make you feel the drag of his cock inside you, “Oh, you feel so good.”

You love it when he gets like this. When all he can do is fuck into you and voice his pleasure. It’s a sure sign of surrender.

“Yes,” you gasp, back arching up against his as you feel your pleasure begin to reach its peak, “Merriell, I’m close.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding in agreement, “C’mon, baby I gotcha. Let go for me.”

Your eyes lock with his the second you feel yourself slip over the edge. You see the way his eyes watch you, full of love that he had hidden behind his anger earlier. Your nails dig into his arm and your eyes roll back, unable to help yourself as pleasure courses through your whole body. You think that maybe you're shaking, but you’re completely detached from your conscious, knowing only the bliss he’s brought you.

Your senses come back to you just in time to feel him finish inside of you. His head buries into your neck, muffling his moans against your skin. The hand that had previously held you down now cups the back of your neck, the other gripping the back of your thigh with a grip so tight, you’re sure you’ll wear his fingerprints for a week.

He collapses against you, staying buried in your heat but pulling back enough so he can kiss you passionately. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his hair as your emotions begin to rise. When he pulls back your eyes are wet with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

He nods, rubbing your noses together affectionately, “Me too,” he says, just as quiet, “Don’t leave.”

It’s a rare moment of sheer vulnerability, much needed after the heightened tensions throughout the past few days. You both knew, on some levels that the words shared earlier were spoken only out of frustration. But there was always that glimmer of doubt that you both felt. For him, it was always that you could find someone better. And for you, it was always the possibility of him growing sick of you.

You shake your head, kissing his softly, lovingly, “Never.”

After a few more moments of holding each other, he pulls out of you but doesn't move much further. He pulls you tight against his chest, kissing the top of your forehead. You bask in the silence for a handful of moments, just listening to each other breathe, finally feeling the tension between the two of you dissipate.

“Next time, can you just please put the seat down?” You murmur against his chest, a teasing tone to your voice.

He barks out a laugh and you grin against his skin at the sound.

Everything was going to be okay.

#merriell shelton #merriell shelton x reader #merriell shelton / reader #snafu #snafu shelton #snafu x reader #rami malek #rami malek smut #rami malek x reader #smut #angst

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junhuiste · 3 years

Text

next level (ex-wip)

pairing: wonwoo x gn reader

word count: 2200

tags/warnings: fluff, angst, slightly suggestive, cursing, friends to enemies to lovers, college au

a/n: so i said i’d publish my other ex wips and here’s another one! i planned on making this a 3 parter where y/n asks wonwoo for help on a computer game even though they were enemies but before that they were friends …does that make any sense i didn’t think so! also this is an ex wip so sorry for the asterisks everywhere! those words were the ones i was gonna replace later on lmfao!!!! also i wrote this 2 years ago when i was 17 so my apologies if its utter bullshit 😭

as wonwoo help you leveled up, you wondered if you should do the same regarding your friendship…errr…enemyship….

It’d been an hour or so of Wonwoo verbally guiding you through the various moves and strategies but once he stood up your breath suddenly hitched, for whatever reason.

Breathing seemingly became somewhat harder as you saw from the corner of your eye that wonwoo was coming to stand behind you.

“it’s gonna get harder,” he said softly, his hand finding yours, “let me help you.”

as much as you appreciated his help, you didn’t need wonwoo to baby you; you were perfectly capable of taking verbal directions without needing guidance like a rookie. “i can do it; i swear!”

though it was hard to train your eyes on both wonwoo and the computer monitor simultaneously, you managed to do it anyway. “that’s not what you said last week when i offered you my help.”

it wasn’t that you didn’t need wonwoo’s help, and it wasn’t certainly that you didn’t want it, but there was something mischievous yet somehow alluring and amusing pushing him away. it was honestly quite ***horrible ** for you to admit it, but playing cat and mouse was refreshing, though it was a game hard to keep up with.

eventually you gave in and you took deep breaths slowly and surely as wonwoo’s hand rest atop yours. it was warm, but not sweaty; relaxed, but not ***heavy***. his head was most definitely closer to yours than last time, even though you tried to focus solely on the computer monitor, he was within an ear’s whisper from you. as he guided your hand, your thoughts glided slowly away from the game entirely and onto the boy behind you. it was hard, really, to ****focus*** on the 146th level of the game when the boy you liked a while back had his shoulder barely leaning into yours, with his warmth radiating onto you so so comfortably.

it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since wonwoo had stood up behind you that his arm was now resting ***comfortably***on yours. the weight of his top half ***barely*** on yours wasn’t even what went into consideration, for the most part. it what you could feel was ***slowly*** developing in the room, moment by moment, and it was excruciatingly painful how much time it took to build up. palms clammy, fingers ready to give out, and breathing ***most definitely*** not under control, you were ready to tap out and give into your instincts.

a mosh pit of psychedelic colors reflected onto both of your faces as the round ended. with the blinds only half drawn and how bright the screen was turned up, you winced at what seemed like a light source that envied the sun glared at you. the heat from the screen wasn’t the only **warmth**** prevalent, however. you certainly hadn’t forgotten about wonwoo’s shoulder ***leaning** onto yours.

avoiding all what you’d learned in high/secondary school about what freud said about the ego calming the id, you surpassed straying from your normal actions. you’d leaped from them, and it couldn’t be fathomed by anyone, by you or soonyoung, or especially jeon wonwoo, what lead you to remove your headphones and turn around in the computer chair and then kiss jeon wonwoo. what was most surprising was that he leaned in too, so much didn’t have to be done on your part.

as he leaned in closer, you pulled wonwoo closer, as if it were instinct and you’d kissed him a thousand times before. knowing him for quite some time, it was evident that he didn’t link up with anyone, whether that be for a single night of pleasure or months of commitment, so it was ***most definitely*** more than alike to a jack-in-the-box when he knew what he was doing, and so well too. his hand **softly*** stroking your cheek with your thumb and your hand ***softly **rubbing*** his neck were a pair you never would’ve expected in light years would be together. the whole ***thing** was just unbelievable…and undoubtedly **breathtaking***, as such as you would ***hate*** to ever tell him.

flashes of blue and red glossed wonwoo’s face again as you looked up at him. “would you look at that,” a slight tinge of satisfaction laced his tone and captured his expression, as you heard a faint “level 147 unlocked” behind you.

the exact reason you were at the dorm for you had completely abandoned; your endeavor was ***seemingly** cut short by your id, too strong for it to be tamed by your superego. in fact, all goals for the game were temporarily thrusted into the iceberg of your unconscious thoughts as you looked up at wonwoo again while tugging his shirt.

it was a precarious game of truth or dare you were playing with yourself, and you were losing to nothing none other than your current desires? mere attractions? repressed feelings? whatever it was, it didn’t really matter as wonwoo leaned into you again, this time more ***forcefully/intensely**, with both of you managing to slip a tongue in here and there. french kissing wonwoo? not exactly on your bucket list but something you were glad to have checked off, be it for lust, regret, or simply nostalgia of how you once felt for the boy who’s sweater you were tugging at to bring him closer and closer and closer.

it had **certainly** been more than a few good minutes of locking lips with jeon wonwoo, and what resulted was both of you panting heavily and looking each other in the eyes a little too intensely for your liking—not necessarily a look of sin but rather of repressed longing and ***regret**. the tension swore to engulf you and spit you out but what was sprinting through your mind instead was that wonwoo kissed you back.

had the naive, freshman you known that making out with jeon wonwoo would become a reality, you would’ve jumped at the thought. was he cute or irritating? bold or brazen? or was he simply just there that you immediately caved in and let your libido think for itself? it was just like that class where he palpated you; did feelings resurface because of a craving for affection? or was wonwoo a person you genuinely wanted to pursue something with. restating what he’d said earlier, that’s not what you’d thought a few months ago.

confusion. that’s what it was at most, at best, with the clearest label. wonwoo was there, yes, but he was also ***caring** (yet competitive), offering (yet **pretentious**), and someone you’d cared for back. the way he carried himself around you was *annoying** at times, sure, but he was never malicious. wonwoo had not one bad bone in his body, and you were willing to stand by that statement. his competitiveness and bold nature that peeked in once in a while were far outweighed by his humility.

no matter how many times he corrected you as naive and curious freshmen, you’d always find yourself falling back to feelings. just like now. but what was it really? did bubbles reappear just because of his hand on yours? because of his somewhat secret smiles when he knew you enjoyed his company? maybe. but it certainly wasn’t because he was just there.

even if bubbles popped and didn’t reappear, it would be better to get feelings out, right? it would lessen the blow, for both you and wonwoo. would you come to terms with what you once harbored for jeon wonwoo? maybe not.

sitting on the bed, wonwoo perked his head up at the sight of you in the chair finally facing him. “this…this isn't a heat of a moment thing…” you began, taking as much of your precious time as possible. if you were going to confront how you felt and didn't feel simultaneously, it might as well have taken some thought at the very least, especially for wonwoo’s sake.

the raven-haired** boy hunched over with a quirked eyebrow to continue to hear you out.

“i like you—i’m sorry, i mean i used to like you. like a lot. sometimes a lot for my own good. back in freshman year.” it was a struggle to get it all out in one breath. confrontation should be something you’d never have to do again. wonwoo stayed silent, his eyes no longer **trained* on yours, but shifted **somewhat** nervously to the floor. the way your heart pulsated mercilessly at the brutal sound of silence forced the temperature to shoot up suddenly.

it didn’t work; you didn’t feel clean, worse actually, and from what it looked like at the moment, wonwoo probably did as well. he usually did well when it all boiled down to fear, feelings, and *rationality* mixing, because he pushed it away. everyone knew that, and you especially. he didn’t take any hard hits when he was third-wheeling soonyoung or roaming mindlessly at one of **NCT’s** notorious frat parties.

maybe it was time to leave. perhaps those moments of silence where you had to recollect yourself, your dignity, and your feelings were a pure waste.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i just threw that at you. i’ll leave now—and uh, thanks for the help.” sometimes feelings weren’t merely felt, other times they were ruthless and just sprung up at the worst of times. maybe that’s why your body was unforgiving and threatening to prick your eyes with water. hurriedly, you grabbed your headphones and clenched them tightly in your fist before taking a step to leave.

however, a pang of something hit. it was unidentifiable, that thing that was keeping you from taking any more steps to leave wonwoo’s room. it was agonizing at the same intensity as it was delirious, and wild and tantalizing even. whatever it was, it was piercing you, forcing you to stay in place.

once again, the air around you was impassioned and the evident thumping and thrashing and thrusting in your chest occurred as wonwoo stood up in front of you. his tall stature didn’t threaten you, only how you felt did.

“how long?” he pried with a *cold** kind of warmth before sitting down in the computer chair. his knees were almost touching yours, and he leaned back with burning curiosity.

“i…don’t know. it was a while back…and for a long time; that’s all i remember.”

the unspoken miracle had graced you as river that almost formed around your eyes earlier had finally dried up.

wonwoo had that same look on his face he always had when no answers or solutions came to mind right away. it wasn’t expressionless, far from it. you didn't know if it was inquiry or discontent, or even a thrill; the latter you’d wished but was far from being a reality.

the way wonwoo struggled to get out what he wanted took you aback. he always knew what to say, whether witty, spiteful, or helpful, and to plain sight of him also choking on his words threw you for a numbing, yet throbbing** loop.

“do you still like me?” wonwoo finally made eye contact with you, the kind of eye contact someone makes when they itch for the answer to so badly be yes.

it was at that moment that he locked you in again. but you spent the last year convincing yourself you hated him. indeed, hate was too strong of a word for it. something else. and just as you’d told him, it was absolutely not the kiss that stirred you to confess in a half-assed manner. it was just so bothersome to not know what those feelings were.

it almost choked to say it, because you *genuinely* felt it, but didn’t know what exactly to do about it.

“i-i don’t know.” you couldn’t keep up with eye contact. it was much too biting.

wonwoo captured your eyes again, but this time it wasn’t the same confused gleam they held, but rather one of clouded elation. you couldn’t exactly tell, but you knew it was just electricity in there somewhere.

“do you want to kiss me again?” was the million dollar question that was lurking. wonwoo asked it with such subtle amusement. instead of taking advantage of your feelings and vulnerability in this situation, which he would never think to do, he decided to act upon his own.

there was an evident yearning in his tone, his body language, his eyes, everything. you knew the difference between when wonwoo was simply waiting for an answer and when he was aching for it immediately. this moment called for the latter.

his inclination provoked a smile out of you. whatever it was, you didn’t know how you felt; you just knew you needed to kiss him again.

you dropped everything you had been clenching so tightly in your hands and and bent down to hold his face in your hand as you leaned in. his soft lips finally met yours again, and unlike the first couple of kisses you shared, this time it was *softer***, slower, driven by an avid and throbbing want to be as close to the other person as possible. this time it had meaning. and you couldn’t find yourself pulling away as wonwoo’s hand came behind your thigh to pull you closer to him.

he was never one to make the first move, for most things, and it surprised you when he popped the question and pulled you to him. practically falling on him in the chair, you whispered out a faint “sorry”, as he rushed to hold you. he *giggled softly** before he continued to kiss you. eventually you repositioned yourself to straddle him in the chair and oh my god you were making out with jeon wonwoo.

videogames, huh?

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagine #seventeen #wonwoo

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wicked-mind · 3 years

Text

Soulmates: Chapter Two

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate when you’re about to meet them. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Small bits of nudity with sexual tension

All Writings Masterlist

Note: Still debating if I’ll turn this into a series, but I figured you guys needed a little more interaction between the soulmates.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated❤️

*gifs not mine

Previously

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N.” Natasha began as the whole team stood outside the cell Y/N was in, watching her through the mirrored glass, “She was at The Red Room Academy with me. She was the top of her class, a year older than me. Y/N adopted the name ‘Queen of Hearts,’ a name I helped come up with. I thought it was ironic given that it didn’t seem like she had one. Y/L/N left the academy before she graduated, refusing to kill an innocent man. Last I heard she was doing mercenary work.”

Steve nodded at the information, looking towards Bucky who was just observing Y/N through the mirror, “What was she trying to steal?”

Natasha pulled out the flash drive she had obtained when Y/N was unconscious, “She was stealing information from us. Information of Barnes.” She said, her eyes flickering towards Bucky, “Whoever paid her, wanted to know everything about you, including all the information we know of how you became the Winter Soldier.”

Chapter Two -

“I want to talk to her.” Bucky said suddenly, his eyes still locked on Y/N through the glass who was pacing, staring back through the mirrored glass as if she knew he was there.

Natasha shook her head, “No. Absolutely not.” She told him, “Whoever paid her wants information on you, how you became the Winter Soldier. We can’t give her anymore information.”

“It may not be the worst idea.” Steve said, looking over to Natasha, “They’re soulmates, they’re connected on a deeper level. Bucky may be able to get more out of her than any of us.”

Natasha frowned, “Look, Y/N and I were trained the same. We are wired to think about the mission and mission only, letting nothing stand in the way. That includes soulmates.”

Before Natasha could finish, Bucky was already through the door. His body was carrying him towards Y/N, everything inside him begging to be closer to her. His blue eyes ran along the tattoo that covered her left arm again, hypnotized by how much it screamed for him.

Y/N watched Bucky enter, freezing in her spot from where she paced at his presence. She could feel the spark inside her again that she had felt when she saw him the first time but pushed it back down, “Come to stare some more?” Y/N asked, a small smile curving onto her still red lips. She knew from the moment she saw him the first time that they were connected on only a level soulmates could. It was like a fire erupted in her chest that she couldn’t extinguished and the closer he got to her, the more the flame grew.

Bucky watched her closely, his corner of his lips twitching slightly into a smile. All he could do was stare at her, take in everything about her. She was perfect and her voice was like music, drawing him closer. He slowly shrugs the black jacket off his shoulders, leaving him in the black short sleeved shirt, “You’re tattoo… All of that is parts of me.” He told her, walking closer and stretching out his right arm to show the tattoo on his forearm.

Y/N flickered her eyes from his face to his arm, tilting her head, “Oh wow, would you look at that.” She said, “Even got the card right. Those are custom made, you know?” Y/N had designed the cards herself. The queen had an eery similarity to Y/N’s features and held a heart in her hand with a small dagger through it. Her eyes ran along the marigolds, knowing what they symbolized- grief. How Y/N ended up at the Red Room Academy was only known to her, something she kept very private and it was caused by an enormous amount of grief. Her eyes flickered to his other arm made from vibranium, her tattoo making sense of why it covered her whole left arm, “Yeah, listen. I know we both feel the spark and flame and all those delicious feelings,” She said toward him, her eyes flickering back up to meet his, “But I don’t do the whole soulmate thing. So I’m sorry you got a dud.” As the words passed her lips, she could feel her tattooed arm ache as if the tattoo didn’t agree with her words.

Bucky gave her a knowing look, he could feel the same ache she did when the words passed her lips, knowing they were a lie Y/N was telling herself, “We were made for each other, doll.” He said as he got closer to her until his face was inches from hers, breathing in her sweet perfume, “We both know the world won’t spin again for either of us until we are together. It wasn’t just a coincidence that whoever hired you sent you to get information on me, it was the universe’s way of bringing us together.” Bucky was determined to make Y/N his. After all, you only get one soulmate and he wasn’t about to let his chance at happiness slip through the cracks.

As Bucky stepped closer to her, Y/N kept the smile on her lips. She could feel her body wanting to crash into his, like they were each other’s gravity and meant to orbit around each other but she held herself back. She put on her flirty eyes, flickering them from his eyes to his lips as she leaned closer, “Well then, who am I to stand in the way of the universe.” She whispered to him before planting a soft kiss on his lips, before watching him fall to the ground paralyzed from the small amount of paralyzing agent still painted on her lips. Y/N looked at him, “Sorry, sugar.” She told him as Bucky’s eyes were still locked on her from the floor. Y/N looked to the mirrored glass, knowing the rest of the super squad was watching, “Are you sure this ones mine? He seems a little dense. Could’ve at least warned him, Natalia.” From the information on Bucky’s file, she knew he wouldn’t be down for long with the super soldier serum in him.

Y/N spent the rest of the night in the detention cell alone after the man named Steve helped Bucky out of the room. She continued to pace the room, trying to figure out a way she can get out of here. Y/N had never been complacent staying in once place, part of the reason she became a mercenary for hire. She got to travel anywhere in the world to get to her target. She couldn’t help her mind drifting back to Bucky, her soulmate. The presence of his lips still lingered over hers and even if she did just kiss him to paralyze him, she wanted more of him. In the morning, Natasha came in to speak to Y/N who seemed to be waiting for her.

“We need to know who wants the information.” Natasha told Y/N with her arms folded.

Y/N rolls her eyes at Natasha, “Yeah, I get that.” She said, the red on her lips had faded showing that the paralyzing agent was gone, “It was an anonymous hire.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Y/N, “You and I both know those gold cards they give you when you get a job can track the buyer. Where’s your card?”

Y/N smiled a little, “In a space place. And no matter what you do to me, little Natalia, you know I won’t give it to you. The only way either of us is getting that card is if I go and get it myself.” She said, knowing that this was her only chance of getting out of here.

Natasha walks around the room, thinking of any other alternative than letting Y/N out to get the information, “Fine. Steve and I will go with you to collect it.”

“Sorry, no can do.” Y/N said, standing from the bed she had been sitting on, “Captain America is far too much of a good boy image to go where the card is kept.” A sudden smile came across her lips, “However, Barnes could come. He’s got a certain darkness to him that’ll make him fit right in.”

Before Natasha could open her mouth to disagree, Bucky was in the room looking at Y/N, “I’ll go.” He said to her, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Something inside him told him it wouldn’t be long until Y/N would reflect the same things he was feeling for her. After all, they were soulmates bound to be together by an unknown and undeniable force.

Y/N led Bucky and Natasha to Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children, chuckling slightly as they both looked confused. When they walked through the doors, it suddenly made sense. The bar was filled with men and women who had dark looks on the complexions, watching the three. All of them were hitmen for hire. Y/N went to the bar and snapped her fingers to get Weasels attention, “Hey, Weasel. I need the key to my room.”

Weasel turned and looked at Y/N, “Oh look, you survived and I lost the dead pool.” He said before looking towards the redhead and tall dark haired man who followed her, “Or maybe survived for now. I still have a chance to win.”

Y/N smirked at Weasel, “Oh darling, no matter how many times you bet on me to die, I’ll rise from the ashes.” She held out her hand as Weasel passed her a key, “Why don’t you get to know Natalia?” Y/N said, pushing the redhead to stand in front of Weasel, “Just put anything she drinks on my tab.”

“You never pay your tab.” Weasel said before looking to Natasha, “Oh.. hi..”

Y/N looked at Bucky, “C’mon lover boy,” She told him, beckoning her finger at him to follow as she passed through a door behind the bar. Y/N led him up a creaking staircase until a hallway opened up with rooms lining the hallway. She walked down until she was almost to the end, unlocking the door and walking into the small room. It wasn’t very decorated, just a simple bed with a dresser that had a bottle of whiskey on it as well as a notebook. The curtains were drawn, blacking out any light that entered, “Home, sweet home.” Bucky followed Y/N willingly, part of him excited to see what Y/N was like on the inside of her own four walls. But it wasn’t much, very minimalistic. He noted the notebook and the whiskey sitting on her dresser, it had a similarity to him. Bucky’s room was littered with notebooks of his memories and empty bottles of whiskey. He turned his eyes to Y/N who was fumbling through the dresser draws for clothes to change into. He felt his cheeks turn hot when he watched her pull out a red lace bra and matching underwear, “I thought we were here to get a gold card?”

Y/N looked over toward Bucky, seeing his cheeks a slight shade of pink made her chuckle. She walks towards him a little, holding the bra and underwear in her hand, “We are, but I need to change first.” She slowly lifts her black tank top off followed by pulling the matching shorts down, leaving her in just her underwear. She watched him hurry and advert his eyes, making her laugh a little, “Oh c’mon, Barnes. We are soulmates. You must be a little curious.”

Bucky slowly placed his gaze back on Y/N’s body, swallowing hard at the sight. She was beautiful, perfect. And it was like her skin was calling to him, begging to be touched. His eyes lingered for a moment over a large scar that sat on her left hip, knowing that scar meant someone had stabbed her at some point and from the looks of the scar, it was a pretty large knife. He watched her turn away from him and slide off the remaining of her clothing, following her fingers strip her skin clean of clothes as if she was teasing him and before he knew it, she was in the new pair of underwear and bra. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her, watching her pull out some black pants and followed by a simple blue v-neck shirt, “You can call me Bucky.” He said, finally breaking the silence once Y/N’s skin was covered and his focus broke.

“Alright, Bucky.” Y/N said, walking towards him and staring into his blue eyes, “Did you like what you saw?” She asks flirtatiously, running her tongue along her top lip as she stood close enough to where they were almost touching.

Bucky couldn’t help himself, watching her walk close enough to him and hearing his name drip for her sweet lips. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her so their bodies were touching. He stared down at her eyes, “You’re perfect. But I have a feeling you already know that.”

Y/N smiled at his grasp, everything about him touching her felt right in her body. She could see the want in his eyes and she was sure her’s reflected the same. As much as she wanted everything he had to offer, she pulled herself out of his grasp and went to the red notebook that sat on the dresser. She flips through the pages before pulling out a gold card, “This is the card I got when I accepted the job. It came in anonymously, but your super squad may be able to figure out something with all their fancy tech.” She said, holding it out towards him.

Bucky took the card, examining it. It was like a pure gold credit card but the only name on it was his own- James Buchanan Barnes. His eyes flickered back to Y/N when she continued speaking.

“You should know, as soon as you guys hack that card, the buyer will know. They’ll assume I was killed trying to procure the information, but they’ll probably send someone to make sure I’m dead, or a few someones.” Y/N said, tilting her head at him. Whoever the buyer was with the amount they offered, she knew they were powerful and would want to make sure she wasn’t compromised, “And with the amount they offered just to get the information, I’m sure they’ll be willing to track me to the ends of the earth.”

Bucky suddenly frowned at her words, realizing what she was saying. By taking this card, he was putting her in danger. But if he let Y/N give the buyer the information on the card, the buyer could be looking for a way to create more Winter Soldiers like him. He watched her carefully, “Come back with me. I’ll keep you safe.” He said walking towards her, placing his flesh hand on her cheek, “I’ll make sure nobody finds you, I’ll help you hide. I thought I would never find you, and I’m not going to lose you.” The words echoed honesty in his voice. Bucky would be whatever he needed to be to Y/N whether it was a lover or protector. And he was determined to keep his soulmate in his life.

________________________________________________________

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n

164 notes · View notes

chanluster · 4 years

Text

two types of fireworks | {f} ; mild {c}

oneshot | tangled! au | historical! au | 21.2k words

“ who could be better adventurers than a wanted thief and a girl with magical hair? ”

s u m m a r y > > when you find a notorious thief wounded within the woods you wondered, you heal him, not realising that the same man will lead you to your destination, and the few feelings you’ll develop along the way.

c o n t e n t s > > long haired flynn rider! hyunjin, rapunzel! reader, irritated companions to lovers, a lot of fluff, kkami is a horse, hyunjin gets SOOOO angry with you all the time, teasing, hyunjin gets flustered easily, everyone in skz included cause i miss them everyday, jisung is the villain iMSOSORRY, a few swear words sprinkled throughout, perhaps? sexual tension? never r e a l l y addressed, and of course, some familiar disney scenes

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e > > once again, i cannot control myself and wrote double the intended word count!! i hope you like and reblog if enjoy this homies, and remember, long-haired hyunjin domination!!!

back to masterlist

YOU WONDERED WHEN YOU WOULD FINALLY GET OUT OF THE FOREST.

Bag slung over your shoulder, your naked feet skimmed through the soft grass as you trudged on, waiting for an opening within the infinite trees to your destination beyond.

It was days like this that you wished Mother had a horse at the foot of the tower. Even though it was a creature you had never seen, you had studied its striking figure within the illustrated books your mother gifted on countless birthdays, their natural-coloured coats, long, beautiful faces and poses of them galloping across green fields.

Green fields you wished had greeted you sooner.

The only sound of the entire forest was the rustling of leaves upon branches, woodland creatures here and there scrambling for food, or for shelter within the thousands of trees surrounding you. Even the sun could not break through the dense masses of nature, only slivers of light shooting through the leaves, providing light for your journey.

Hard. The paths were hard, your feet getting slightly muddied, and even your water was slowly running thin, leather skin holding about a day’s worth of water left. Your food was stocked, collecting apples from the nature above, but you knew you needed a proper meal if you had not a clue of when you were to arrive at your hidden destination.

You knew what you were searching for. You just did not know where to search.

Sighing, you felt your spirits dampen the further you lumbered on, the mass rings of hair wound around your other arm a heavy weight. The locks were endless, making a trail behind you. You tried to gather up as much hair as you could manage, but the damned mess refused to listen. Irritancy furrowed your brows, and you let out a shallow sigh, cursing fate for being so cruel.

Within the trees, you spotted an opening - a sliver of light beyond the tunnel of nature. You gasped, picking up the pace of your feet, running out and breaking free of the leafy barrier.

Before you were not the opening fields you expected, but rather a small pond, cocooned within the trees you ploughed through. The water looked pure, glimmering from the sunlight which now freely fell upon the opening. It was a peaceful sight, but still could not stop the disappointment reaching your face as you slumped your shoulders.

Brilliant.Yet another dead end.

You were about to head for the pond when you heard distant shouting.

Fear froze over you, expecting your mother breaking through the bushes.

Your instincts had you dashing for the trees again, gathering your hair and hiding behind the bushes. The aggravated voice grew louder, but the closer it came, you realised with confusion that it was not laced with anger. It was laced with pain.

Suddenly, something broke out of the bushes. You nearly let out a childish yelp.

It was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Hell, it was the only man you had ever seen - you would have kept staring in awe were not your features distorted with worry. This man stumbled to a nearby tree looking over the pond, one hand clinging onto the trunk as the other hugged his abdomen, fingers stained with the blood caked upon his turquoise vest. Dear God, there was so much blood.

He whirled, back to the trunk, and slumped down, legs spread before him as his mouth parted, letting out shallow breaths as he tried to stop the bleeding. His head frantically darted, looking everywhere, and then tilted his head back against the wood as he closed his eyes. Sweat matted his locks, beaded down his cheeks, and he hissed as his hand held his bloodied side tighter. His satchel had been discarded before the pond, a few papers and food spilling from the opening.

You watched him whither slowly, fingers threading through your hair. You wanted to help; of course you did, but you held back. Perhaps fear still crept at the back of your neck, but you hid behind the bushes, waiting for what might happen.

Minutes later, you wished you ran to his help instead. The man, after heaving rapidly, left his hand upon the wound, thumping down on the ground, slumping fully against the tree.

Your eyes widened at the realisation.

In that space of a few seconds, you knew.

Whoever he was, you had to save him.

Feet nearly stumbling upon huge tree roots, you rushed around the pond. Hair getting caught in a few twigs, you did not glance back as you tugged at the meters of locks, the man’s face now closer in your vision.

You dropped down to where he sagged against the trunk, unrolling your locks from your arm, eyes darting frantically to his figure. Instantly finding the horrific wound, cutting through the fabric and his skin, you slide your hand through curtains of your hair, taking out a long trail and tugging the ends to you.

With hesitation, but then determined certainty, your hands unbuttoned the man’s vest, taking every single nerve in your body not to glance at his face. The white shirt underneath was stained with blood as well, which you raised up to his top part of his chest, exposing his granite-hard abdomen. You would have even blushed were it not such a grave situation you found yourself in, blood oozing out of the injury.

With a final, long draw of breath, you grabbed the locks of your hair, carefully tying them around the man’s waist. You made sure the strands covered every single ribboned area of his stomach, praying to fate for this miracle. The only injuries you had treated were cuts from paper and burns from hot trays of cupcakes. A slash this deep and serious was going to be another matter entirely.

Once you were done securing the hair, you put your hand upon the locks guarding the injury, and closed your eyes.

The words that left your mouth nearly silenced the forest.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

A spark.

“Let your power shine.”

You felt the glow hum beneath your fingers.

“Make the clock reverse.

“Bring back what once, was mine.”

You dared not open your eyes as you sang, sensing the miracle of your hair threading itself around the unconscious man, assessing the wound, driving inside and repairing the damage done upon his skin. You dared not stop singing, fearing for his life.

“Heal what has been hurt.”

The magic obliged to your call, slowly knitting the wound, working on the scarring, the loss of blood.

“Change the Fate’s design.”

The lost flesh formed miraculously underneath your fingertips, tendrils of muscle knitting within itself, saving the abdomen from complete ruination. You carried on, squeezing your eyes further shut.

“Save what has been lost.”

You felt the damp blood dry in the moments, the newly created muscle now raising your hand slightly as warmth radiated around you, courtesy of the otherworldly glow of your hair. It comforted your nerves, still there despite knowing you had brought the man out of grave danger.

“Bring back what once was mine…”

You took a deep breath, both hands upon his wound.

“What once was mine.”

You paused.

Opened your eyes.

There he still was, leaned back before you, dreaming away with a restored peace, lost when he got slashed in his gut. His top half was splayed out before you, abdomen all healed save for a dried blood scattered here and there. You turned to the pond, straining as you cupped some water and splashed it upon the crust, hitching your dress and using the ends to wipe the mess away.

As you wiped you looked up at his face — it was then you noticed the little details; his closed eyes, the groomed brows — the straight nose, gosh, the full lips, slightly parted mouth. You could not help but stare at the man, sleeping in tranquility with the nature around him. It was almost like he did not possess a grave wound moments before.

You realised when you glanced down that he was still bare waist up, and with heated cheeks raised your hands to the hem gathered at the top of his chest. Your eyes darted, and locked with his open ones, and reverted back to the shirt to yank it down—

You stopped completely in your tracks.

Widened your eyes.

Tilted your head up to see the man’s opened eyes, just as wide as yours, the lips you shamelessly stared at not so long ago parted more.

It was a few seconds before the heavy silence was shattered.

With the man’s rather shrill scream.

“OH MY GOD—!”

Suddenly he wasn’t slumped against the tree, but shooting straight up, backing away from you. Stunned, you retreated a few steps too, watching his slender eyes nearly shoot out of his sockets.

“Who are you?! What did you do to me?! How am I not dead—?!” his questions kept coming, head darting to where his satchel lay. He jumped towards it, frantically searching for some kind of weapon only to find a few posters and salted meat. He then perked his head towards you, immediately positioning himself in a fighting stance, fists out.

“Don’t make me fight you, girl!” he exclaimed, warning written in his face. “If I have no sword I can fight with my fists!”

That was a convenient time to whip out a weapon of your own, but you only argued with words.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise!” you reasoned, hands raised.

“Then why were you so close?! Bombarded in my face and fiddling with my shirt?!” he showed off his chest, now covered by the white material, turquoise vest still open. “Oh, dear God, what did you do?!”

“Nothing!” you proclaimed, pointing towards your chest. “I only healed your wounds!” You took a step closer. “You were going to die!”

Hesitantly, the man followed your finger, lifting his shirt up to see his side, completely free of scarring, of the slash that haunted his skin. He then looked to you once more, anger being replaced with pure fear.

He let out another unnecessary scream.

“WITCH!”

The tree stopped him backing up any further, and he watched you with pure horror, expecting you to grow fangs, form claws and gut you mercilessly. You only regarded the beautiful, yet rather silly man with incredulity.

“I’m not a witch,” you grumbled, crossing your arms, “I just have hair that glows when I sing.”

That did not help your situation at all.

“Because that’s normal, is it not?!” he yelped, and dashed behind the tree, taking notice of your hair. “And having a kingdom's worth of hair on your head isn’t something out of a grim fairytale?!”

“Well that ‘grim fairytale’-like hair is what saved you from death,” you snapped, hand slipping into your satchel, feeling the handle of your frying pan. “Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!” he growled right back.

“Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!”

“Ungrateful man!”

The man soured up, his raven locks caressing his cheeks as the wind rustled the forest. Both of you stared each other down, pan-handle jutting out of the satchel, and the other’s fists raised once more, half of his figure behind the tree still. None of you backed down. None of you dared lose to the other.

Minutes past, the only sound being the water softly lapping in the pond. The man let out a sigh, breaking the stare.

“I’m leaving.”

He picked up his satchel, a stray poster falling to the ground. You watched it descend, asking, “What, where?”

“None of your business.” He dusted himself off, buttoning up his vest. “I can’t waste my time here.”

You ignored his cold answer, and picked up the poster. It advertised the day of the Fireworks, a couple of weeks away, and boasted of the activities happening in the Kingdom of Corona.

An excited gasp escaped you.

“You!”

The man turned, frowning. “What now?”

You ran to where he stood, blocking his vision with the poster. “You know of Corona? Do you know where it is?”

Grunting, he waved the paper away from his face. “Of course I do.” He slung his bag over his head. “I was going to go there before I got rudely stabbed.”

A thrilling wave washed over you, barely containing your smile. “You’re still going then, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—” the man stopped talking.

Began glaring at you.

“You’re not coming with me.”

The smile fell instantly.

“But wait!” You hurried over to him, but he reflexively dodged your advances. “We’re journeying to the same destination!”

“So?” He straightened his vest once more, and turned his icy stare towards you. “That, if I can remember correctly, is not my problem.”

“But I do not know where the Kingdom is!” You tried to break his shell, the constant rejections of teaming up.

“Refer to my previous point, witch.”

“I’m not a witch!” you sniped, getting more and more irritated with his discouraging demeanour. “I save you from the claws of oblivion, and this is how you repay me!”

He gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to save me.”

You scoffed, shocked by his total lack of gratitude. “Oh, really?” You finally brought out your own weapon. “Then I can gladly bring you back to your original state!”

The man stared at the black frying pan before bursting into laughter.

His shameless laughter made you even angrier, and you swung the pan back, another bad remark and it’ll hit home.

“A frying pan!” He gasped out, clutching his stomach. “What are you going to do? Fry my food to hurt me?”

You let out a roar as you swung the pan right onto his head.

With a sharp PANG! It banged against his head and the man let out a hideous yelp, gripping his head.

“What are you doing?!” he cried out, doubling over before the pond.

You only positioned yourself once more, the weapon hovering above your head. “Don’t insult my frying pan ever again. Nor my hair, you bastard.”

He groaned painfully in response, massaging his head to soothe the pain of the metal. “How do you think,” he guttered, looking over his shoulder at you, “I’m ever going to let you come with me after you nearly knocked me out?”

You did not break his stare. “Because I can easily do it again.

“Take me to the Kingdom of Corona. I saved your life, and it’s the least you can do in return.”

Again, the battle of eyes, refusing to surrender. You did not even know the man’s name, but you wished to swing the frying pan upon him, really make sure to wreck that awfully beautiful face.

That made you scowl further. Why was he so ravishing?

Whether it was your stubbornness, or the promise of another beating, the man stood straighter, a heavy exhale leaving his lips.

“Fine. You win.”

He turned fully to you, not leaving your eyes.

“You may accompany me to the Kingdom.”

The minute the words left his mouth, you flung your arms back, letting out a howl of victory.

“I’m going to see the fireworks!”

You ran around the tree, hair looping around the trunk as you hooted in pleasure. “I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks!

The man, still caressing his head, hissed at the commotion you made. “Oh, be quiet!”

Ignoring him completely, you continued your unpredictable running, until the former trudged up and stopped you in his tracks, gripping you by your arms.

“Stop!”

You returned his sour expression with a brilliant smile. “I can’t help it! I’ve been wanting to see the fireworks for a very long time.”

“Whatever.” He let you go, looking around the forest. “But before we go anywhere…”

He settled his eyes upon you. For once, there wasn’t any scorn alight in them.

“At least you can tell me your name.”

You pondered a bit. “Tell me yours first.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held out his hand.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, at your service, even though I don’t wish to be.”

You stared at his hand.

“Why did you raise your hand at me?” You asked in confusion, pan still in yours.

The man — Hyunjin — regarded you in disbelief. “You...you don’t…?” He cocked his head, retracting his hand. “Where did you come from, witch?”

“Again with the witch!” You exclaimed, cutting distance to his face, hovering the pan under his chin in warning.

“How about,” he started, lowering your weapon with his hand, “You pause the constant threats, and tell me your name?”

With a cautious eye still upon him, you obliged. “____.”

“____,” he repeated. “____,” he continued, as if tasting the very name that identified you. “Well, then, ____, the first thing we’re to do is search for Kkami.”

“Kkami?” Your eyes followed his every move, as he brought out his own leather skin, filling it with the water from the pond. You reflected his move, replenishing your own water.

“My horse,” he clarified, placing the skin within his satchel, closing the straps. “He must not be far.”

That snippet of information nearly had you screaming. “You have a horse?!” You asked eagerly, earning a hiss from the man.

“What are you so excited for? It’s just a horse.” He then sighed, tying locks of his hair in a half-up ponytail. “Yes, I do have a horse. So does half the kingdom.”

“I’ve never seen a horse before my eyes,” you explained, wonder misting your eyes, yet clearing your mind. You knew you had to find this ‘Kkami’ soon.

Hyunjin glanced at you, curiosity knitted onto his features. “You really do surprise me. It’s as if you’ve never left your home in your life.”

You could only offer him a smile. “You can say that again.”

“Come.” He started up a rather fast walk, separating the bushes with his hands. “He must not be far.”

You followed his trail, sparing one last look over your shoulder at the pond, then turning towards this Hwang Hyunjin, the man who would lead you to your destination.

The Fireworks of Corona.

For the next hours calls for Kkami were being pursued by the two of you, with little to no result, for a horse could not possibly call back on his searchers. Hyunjin showed no mercy in his marching, and you refused to let him show you mercy, despite your legs on the brink of collapsing.

After another hour the both of you broke away from the forests, and found a cobblestone road, leading to an unknown destination. Signs decorated the pole standing on the opposite side of the road, and the man stepped onto the path, assessing the places mentioned.

“Ah!” He spoke out after. “The Wolf’s Den.”

“What is that? Your home?”

“An inn, not far from here.” He looked to his left, the continuing pathway. “I stop there often in between journeys, so perhaps Kkami went there to wait for me.”

“Well, what are you standing around here for?” You sprung up in front of him, a tired grin etched into your features, a beacon of hope now beyond the road. That inn better be within the next ten steps.

Sure enough, there were only mere minutes of walking before you set your eyes upon a wooden cottage, it’s sign, displaying The Wolf’s Den, swaying within the cool woodland breeze. Distant noise was heard while you both walked towards the inn, howling and boisterous laughter ringing through the forest.

Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief, picking up the pace of his stride.

Confused, you followed his line of sight, and let out an excited gasp at what he ran towards.

Horses. Real horses, right before your eyes.

There were different colours of the animal, slick brown and black and white coats, but the one the man strolled towards, almost a skip in his step, possessed the opposite colours, black and white scattered upon its body, an unusual yet beautiful combination. The horse softly neighed when its owner laid a nurturing hand upon him, whispering greetings to him.

It was so...ethereal. Even if horses were common animals, seeing one for the first time from your own eyes rather than the pages of a children’s book made all the difference.

Hyunjin, feeling your blatant staring, glanced back, a groomed brow raised. “What is the unnerving staring for?”

You snapped out of the bubble of your thoughts, instantly souring over his comment. “I was just looking at your horse,” you mumbled.

“Oh my. You really were not kidding, then.” The other brow then joined its partner. “Are you going to faint if we come across a donkey?”

You gave him a scowl. “Shut up!”

He huffed out a laugh, patting his horse once more before walking around to the entrance, tilting his head up to assess the whole inn. He then looked past at you, still admiring Kkami. “I’m going to go inside for a bit. You stay out here.”

Again, you perked up, furrowing your brows. “Why can’t I come in?”

Gritting his teeth, he said, “Don’t argue! The inn’s full of madmen, and you’ll get scared.”

“You don’t know that!” you cross your arms, shooting him a mean glare. “I can take care of myself!”

“Just stay outside!” he exclaimed, wrenching open the door and storming inside, a loud bell indicating his presence as the door closed behind him.

You scream in anger at the door as if Hyunjin was still there in front of you. Dear God, he didn’t have to be such a pain in the rear!

Stubbornly, you stepped right to the door, opening it just a little bit, sticking your head inside.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the inn.

About a few dozen men were creating disorder, drinking away in big glasses, shouting and hollering, even threatening to throw punches at one another in a rather strange state of mind. Sweet singing was heard over the melody of the piano, a man’s rich voice adding softness to the anarchy. You noticed men stumbling around tables and slurring their words, your curiosity being stained with a little fear.

Why were these men acting like fools?

You opened the door a little wider, hand on it still as you stepped inside, the other hand holding onto your bundles of hair.

Your eyes settled on Hyunjin squeezing past the crowd, walking up to the counter, where a line of men were already settled, different coloured drinks in their hands. A handsome man, of similar age to your companion, greeted him with a dazzling smile. “Hyunjin!” he welcomed warmly, raising his hands.

You saw your grumpy companion sit down on the high chairs, not particularly returning the smile.. “Chan,” he started, putting his elbows on the counter top. “Any news?”

“The news is that you should rest,” this Chan countered, pouring a dark-red liquid in a glass, sliding it to his friend. “When was the last time you slept properly?”

His concern was waved off, as Hyunjin sipped on his drink, completely unaware of your presence. “When Jisung didn’t run off with my treasures.”

Chan’s smile faded, as he looked frantically around, lowering his voice. “What? Jisung betrayed you?”

Hyunjin kept darting his eyes back to you. “Let’s not dwell too much on it. My main objective is to find him.”

The bartender parted his mouth, worry in his features. “And...and what will you do when you find him?”

You saw the man’s face darken. “I will make him regret fucking with me.”

A small gasp escaped you, hands coming to your sides. This fury was of another scale entirely, and it made you almost shudder at his need for vengeance.

You were about to take a step further when the door shut completely.

The bell rang, a lot louder than you had imagined.

The chaos quietened at the sound, all eyes turning to the door.

Then at you, with all your seventy feet locks, trailing out the shut door.

And if that didn’t ennerve you entirely, then the look on Hyunjin’s face as he slowly got up from his seat, that same cold fury now focused on you, definitely did.

You nearly yelped out a cry of help.

The melody of the piano continued, and before all the men could come pounce on you, your hands dropped the tumbles of hair, falling at your feet as you grabbed your pan and raised it in warning.

Hyunjin thundered past the others, though, hair bobbing with each step as he stopped right behind the pan you raised in defence.

“I told you to stay outside,” he guttered.

You only craned your neck back, matching his stare. “You do not tell me what to do.”

“I swear to God—”

He was cut off when Chan eased past his customers, stopping beside Hyunjin as he widened his eyes at your arrival.

“Oh my,” he started, a small glance at the pan. “Miss, none of us intend to hurt you, do put the...your weapon down.”

Your eyes did not stray from Hyunjin’s. “One of you does.”

The owner of the tavern raised a brow at his friend. “Well, he won’t hurt you as long as he’s under this roof.”

He then blessed your eyes with a smile. “The name’s Bang Chan,” he said, hand stretched out. You took it, just how the ladies in your books did, and felt the expected kiss on the back. “What may I call you?”

“____,” you offered.

“Don’t let Hyunjin’s usually foul demeanour dampen your spirits,___,” Chan continued, leading you further into the tavern, the men unable to keep their eyes from you.

“Oh, so he’s always like this?” you mused, the already sour glare grilling into you.

The man leading you to a seat laughed, a single cheek dimpling. “Don’t you worry about him,___.” he snapped his fingers, the man playing the piano stopping, being replaced with another as he came down the stairs. “Worry about what drink you would like.”

“No!” Hyunjin cut in immediately, daggering the men around him with his gaze. “Do not even think about giving her anything.”

You scoffed louder than usual so the long-haired man would hear. “I would very much like a drink, thank you, Mr. Bang.”

The manager chuckled at the game of cat and mouse, pulling a seat for you to settle down into. “Chan is perfectly fine, ____.” He then turned to his friend. “Don’t fret too much, I’m only offering some ale.”

As if on cue, another fine, slender man, who was just playing the piano, presented you with a huge mug of the diluted alcohol, a soft smile etched onto his lips. You melted at his demeanour, accepting the object with a thank you. He then glanced at your companion, smile slightly fading.

“I assume you have heard about Jisung?”

Hyunjin cocked his head, a watchful eye still on you as you took a careful sip, eyes widening at the slight, sweet tang to the drink. “Of course. The bastard tried to stab me.”

“Dear God,” was his answer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” The feline gaze was more prominent, and you did not know why you began to drink the ale a little faster. “I escaped death...perhaps by witchcraft.”

You held in the urge to roll your eyes.

Hyunjin then fully focused his attention upon the musician. “Wait, Seungmin, how did you know of this?”

“Jisung came to the inn.”

Chan looked to his coworker. “I did not see him arrive.”

Seungmin shook his head, you right in the middle of these men as you finished your first mug. Another sweet customer poured you some more from his serving, and you clinked your drink with his, continuing to watch. “You were tending to Kkami. It was very quick, he came and went.”

“What did he tell you?” Hyunjin demanded.

“Well, firstly he told me you and him had gone your separate ways.” Seungmin propped a finger of his chin, thinking some more. “Which made me a little sceptical, since both of you are joined at the hip. Anyway, he said you gave him whatever you both had picked up on your adventures, and that he was going to Corona and sell them off.”

A curse was emitted over this information. You wanted to know why that was such a problem, but in reality all you wanted was more ale. “Chan?” You called, holding out the mug. The owner of the inn immediately took care of your request, filling the mug to the brim and setting it upon the wooden table.

“That is quite enough,” Hyunjin declared, trying to pry the drink from you when you slapped his hand away, shooting him with what you thought was a terrifying glare.

In reality, the men around him began to laugh at your attempt of intimidation, which looked more like a child pouting over a scolding. Your companion tried again to take the mug away but this time you hugged the drink as tightly as you could, some of the contents spilling lightly onto your top.

“I swear—” he muttered, but then angrily shook his head, dismissing you entirely. “Seungmin, do you know when he plans to go to Corona?”

The said-man furrowed his brows in thought. “He did seem in a bit of a rush. I reckon he has already found buyers and is riding to the city as we speak.”

Hyunjin poked his tongue out under his cheek, clearly not content with this new information. Chan, sensing his discomfort, put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much,” he reassured him.

“I must leave for the capital now,” the younger said, and the other knitted his brows in irritancy.

“But you just arrived!”

“I can’t let Jisung get away with this,” Hyunjin muttered, and suddenly the words of his departure truly hit you.

“NO!”

All the men flinched at you shrill call, the one you knew the most sending you his typical bitter glare. “You, firstly,” he drawled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “Need to stop drinking!”

“But I’ve only had two mugs!” you exclaimed. “And it only tastes like water!”

“It’s three, actually,” he corrected, propping both hands on his hips. “And I do not want some whiny, drunk witch while I travel.”

“Hyunjin!” Chan scolded, instantly at your side. “Why are you calling the poor girl a witch?”

“Mr. Chan,” you recited, as if you were a bard about to sing poetry, “This insufferable man has been abusing me with this term all day!”

A gasp escaped the owner of the bar, who then frowned at the man accused. “You monster!”

“Dear God,” he mumbled, ready to leave the inn then and there. It was a shame that he owed you a favour, or else he would have abandoned you in the forest.

Hwang Hyunjin did not like doing favours for others. Even if they derived from pretty young ladies with magical hair.

A scowl marred his full lips at the strange thought.

“I am not leaving,” you declared, dragging him down to reality as you took a hefty gulp of your ale. You smacked the cup down, eyes never leaving his. “And you are going to stay with me till I am done.”

That’ll show him. You were extremely confident that he would listen, now that you told him off. Your brain, now a little fuzzy, praised you for standing your ground, along with a smiling Chan and Seungmin. Wait, did Chan have a twin? He did not before, so why was there two of him before you?

“Oh, hurry up, then!” The man roared, and you flinched from his tone before the words settled in. That then caused you to harbour a complacent smile upon your face, and when he caught sight of it he let out a groan. “And for God’s sake, get me something to drink!”

Seungmin obliged, chuckling at his friend’s tantrum, and Chan only ruffled his half-ponytail, messing it up slightly. “That’s the spirit, Hyunjin,” he said. “Learn to relax.”

“How can I relax when my ex-partner is about to sell off everything we made together?”

“Even Jisung would need his rest,” the elder countered, sitting the younger down onto the seat opposite yours, which looked a little less sharp even with your blinking. Were these the consequences of drinking? Were there consequences for drinking?

Well, you did not seem to care. Not when it tasted so divine.

“If I do not catch the bastard because of this wit-ow!” he was interrupted by a pinch of his gut, done by Chan over his lack of manners. “I mean girl!

“If this girl—” he knifed you with a look, which you returned with a feline grin, as you drank some more. “—is the reason I do not catch Jisung, I will willingly kill her in his place.”

“Whatever you say!” you hollered much too loud, earning a deep snarl from the man as Seungmin curved through the customers and brought more drinks, propping his friend’s drink before him.

Hyunjin wrapped his fingers around the black handle, and on cue, you raised your own mug.

“To catching whoever annoyed pony boy this time!” you declared in a mighty roar.

Laughter rang from all around the tavern, yet the man you targeted only grumbled, awkwardly clutching tufts of his locks before taking a swig of his drink.

Alcohol was shared throughout the evening, an airy and boisterous atmosphere lingering in the candle-lit room, orchestrated by you as you told your dream of seeing the famous fireworks of Corona. You informed them through ale-tainted words of their importance for you, as they happened on your birthday without fail every year, and when the men around you heard they all hooted an early happy birthday to you, all toasting to you and your contentment.

At one point, at what you thought was your fifth glass, you scrambled on top of the table, to Hyunjin’s absolute horror, and you requested another toast.

“To people like me and you!” you exclaimed to the tavern, and everyone cheered so loudly that you thought your ears would lose its purpose.

You then had the brilliant idea to try and jump down from the table - why, you were ready to take the leap when you heard a frightened yelp. Looking down, blinking hard to differentiate one man from another, you saw Hyunjin shooting up from his seat, arms reaching out.

With your mouth parted you felt his long, slender hands grip each side of your waist, and a small gasp escaped you as you as he lifted you in his arms, setting you down upon the tavern stone as quickly as he picked you up. His hands nearly left their place on you when you looked into his eyes, yours so wide at what he did he reflected your action.

Even in the chaos of the tavern around you, you found slight peace within his stone-cold eyes.

The tranquility was short-lived, when he shook his head, hands straying as they gripped the empty mug, turning to Chan, who was downing his own third beer of the night. “I’m going to take my leave now,” he said.

“But it is past dusk!” The owner stood his ground, gathering all the empty mugs. “I cannot have you trotting about in this forest.

“And look—” he pointed to you, who was asking around for yet another mug-full of ale, being guiltily refused by the men surrounding you. “—she is in no state to travel. You both need rest.”

“We are fine,” Hyunjin insisted. “I will take care of the damned witch.”

“Stop it,” Chan warned, setting the objects upon the counter. “Just because she has hair which could wrap around our inn ten times, doesn’t mean she’s a witch.”

“Pony boyyy!”

Grimacing, Hyunjin turned to catch you, offering him a lop-sided smile as you stumbled up to him. “Ponyboy, serve me some ale!”

“Oh my God,” he muttered, looking you over, assessing your rather ridiculous state. “____, we are leaving.”

“Leaving?!” You repeated one horror. “But we cannot leave now!”

“That is what I am saying too!” Chan chimed in.

Hyunjin did not acknowledge his friend’s comment, though. Only your refusal, as he propped his hands on his hips, leaning into you with brows furrowed.

“___,” he whispered, and, oh, why was your breath abandoning you? “You come with me, or I can easily leave you here. You carry on drinking, hmm?”

Well, there it was. Of course, all you wanted to do at the time was drink till only the Den’s ale ran through your veins, but in reality, you knew your situation. The fireworks were mere days away, and although you would have gladly asked any of the others to accompany you to spare the agitation of this long-haired man, you could not dump yourself onto his friends. At least the former owed you a favour.

You had to see the fireworks. And only Hwang Hyunjin could show you in time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, but Hyunjin raised a hand to his ear, mocking a confused expression.

“Wait, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Damn you, I said fine!” you exclaimed right into his ear, making him flinch. “I’m coming with you!”

His amusement had not faded entirely, though, as a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. He turned to Bang Chan, who already had his arms held out. “You better not die,” he mused, and the long-haired man only scoffed before hugging his dear friend.

Seungmin, then playing on the piano, waved his hand in goodbye, sending a flying kiss Hyunjin’s way, smiling adorably when the latter rolled his eyes.

Chan also kissed your hand in respect, holding onto to it as you tried to steady yourself. “Farewell, ____,” he said with a radiant smile. “We will try and find you both in the capital if we can find the time.”

“Thank you for the drinks, Mr. Chan!” you yelled with too much enthusiasm, earning a chuckle from the man. “I wish I could repay you, but-”

“There is no need,” he countered kindly, waving off your concern. “Any friend of Hyunjin’s is a friend of mine.”

Scrunching your nose at the thought, you found the said-man already at the door, calling for you to hurry up or else he’ll dump you here and go alone. Sticking your tongue out, you bid your remaining farewells, waving to Seungmin before whirling, the whole tavern chanting goodbye to you as you followed, rather clumsily, Hyunjin out of The Wolf’s Den.

The cool, night air kissed your face as you stepped out into the forest, blinking excessively to familiarise yourself with your surroundings. Soft neighing was heard beside you, and you turned to the sound, finding Hyunjin going through his satchel, now strapped upon Kkami. The boy spared a glance towards you before saying, “Let’s get going.”

You looked at the horse, and suddenly you realised how big the animal really was. You feared even trying to slide your foot in the stirrup, knowing you would fall flat on your rear.

Hyunjin, noticing your uncertainty, huffed out a malicious chuckle. “Oh, so now the bold little witch is scared, now? Of riding a horse?”

“The pan is right beside me,” you warned, wishing your glare would have intimidated the man who teased you. In reality, it only made him laugh some more. “And you already know I’ve never seen a horse in real life, let alone ride one.”

The man watched you rather pityingly, stroking Kkami’s mane before sighing. “Come here, then,” he started, patting the saddle.

You tilted your head, confused. “For what?” You scowled at him, lower lip jutting out. “I am not going anywhere near you.”

“Well then, I hope you enjoy walking in forests at midnight,” he said, holding onto the reins as he propped one foot atop the stirrup. “All alone.”

He was about to hoist himself upon his horse when you groaned out, running to him, hair trailing after you. “Fine! Help me get up the bloody animal!”

Shaking his head, he descended upon the grass before you walked right up to Kkami, a little too big for your liking. He inhaled, a little too loudly, and then his hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up.

You nearly yelped at the contact but remembered to grip onto the reins, propping one leg over the other. Your dress hitched a little higher with the distance, and you felt the eyes of your companion upon the exposed skin for barely a second before he grasped the pommel of his saddle, and climbed atop the horse.

It was then you noticed the sheer closeness of him, right behind you, even more so when he leaned forward, taking the reins from you, his head hovering near yours. If you were not influenced by alcohol, you would have screamed at him for daring to approach you, but you were influenced, enough for a strange, sensational feeling to hit your gut. You tried your best to ignore it as you swiped the air with your raised pan, holding onto your bundles of hair.

“To the Kingdom, Pony boy!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Was his answer before snapping the reins, Kkami instantly obliging.

You instantly lurched back at the sheer force of the horse’s galloping, a shuddering breath whooshing out of you as you collided with Hyunjin’s chest. The animal picked up the pace immediately and swept through the vast expanse of the forest, the light of the moon guiding your way. You held onto the pommel of the saddle, occasionally letting yourself lean against the man behind you. If he noticed you closing the distance, he did not say anything of it.

Soon, the ball of light which accompanied you on your journey was halfway through its own, indicating that midnight had long passed. Fatigue crept up your mind, but with every bounce of the horse had you perking up, irritation marring your features.

“Hyunjiiin,” you whined, watching trees upon trees sweeping past you. “Can we rest already?”

You rather felt more than heard his sigh. “We need to get to the capital.” He snapped the reins, urging Kkami to gallop faster. “It’s already a two-day journey, we need to be as fast as possible.”

This was not acceptable in your mind. Holding onto your hair, you looked over your shoulder, catching your guide watching his path ahead. “But Hyunjin, I am tired!”

“That sounds more like a personal problem to me, ____,” he only said, raising a brow at you. The pathways became thinner, branches barely missing your heads.

“Hyunjiiiiin!”

“What?!” he demanded, turning a right, past the signs. “Stop vexing me, already!”

“Pony boy, I will jump off Kkami if you don’t listen to me!” You warned, already sliding slightly off the saddle. With slight concern you realised that the horse was riding a little too fast for your drunken liking.

“Oh, I dare you to,” the man growled in your ear, already so irritated with your constant rambling. You, on the other hand, found no fear from his threat, only wishing he had not dared you to do something so risky.

Because now, you were going to do just that.

A thunderous shout escaped Hyunjin as you swiped your left leg over, sitting sideways upon the horse and ready to jump off and to your very possible death. With one hand guiding the reins his other immediately stopped you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you straight against his chests.

“What in fine heavens are you doing?!” The man screamed in anger, causing you to wince. Kkami slowed with the pull of the reins.

You looked up at him, wide eyes with confusion. “Why, what you dared me to!” You answered, as if it was a reasonable action to commit.

Hyunjin did not seem to agree with you on this. “You...you—”

“If you do not stop over, Pony Boy, I will jump once again!” you warned him, already wanting to squirm out of his grip if the damned man was not so strong.

You then flinched when an enraged cry escaped Hyunjin, pulling harshly on KKami’s reins. On command, the horse began to slow its galloping, and when your companion searched for a place to stay he spotted a little opening within the trees, a plain, grassy area among the oaks and bushes. Hyunjin, leading the group into this space, sighed in relief when he saw a little pond among the greenery, and stopped his horse before the calm waters.

The man, swinging his leg carefully behind you, got off the horse, and you waited for him to bring you down, only for him to create distance between you two as he propped his satchel before a large oak tree.

“Ponyboyyy,” you called, but he only looked back, knifing you with a glare.

“Oh, so now you’re afraid to get off the horse?” he taunted, fisted hands upon his hips. “What about ten bloody minutes ago when you were ready to jump to your death?”

“I was a different person then.”

“No!” he countered right away, practically ripping out an apple from his bag. “No, you are still the same, drunk, witch who keeps putting a giant dump on my plans!”

You had the audacity to giggle. “I did not take any dumps on your plan, silly! In fact, was it not me who saved you?”

“Oh, be quiet!” he only demanded, making you laugh a little uncontrollably.

“Will you help me down, already?” you sang out, only to irritate your companion some more. “Or will I have to risk breaking my legs?”

The prolonged silence had you nearly sliding off the horse when you heard his heavy footsteps, harsh grumbling sounding from the trees until Hyunjin advanced to where you sat, dropping your locks of hair upon the ground. Strong hands held onto your waist, and you grabbed onto his shoulders quicker than you thought, clinging onto him as he descended you from Kkami, neighing from the lack of passengers.

His hands left your sides instantly, and you did not know why you missed their presence. Perhaps the alcohol messed with your mind a little too much.

You watched as Hyunjin began to collect some wood, a few thick branches from the trees and bushes scattered around the grasslands. Hair trailing behind, you walked to where he dumped the wood beside the pond, settling yourself with your satchel strapped to you.

Your eyes lingered on him still when he sat down beside you, maintaining a distance as he brought out his flint and steel. Creating fiction, he swiped against the materials until a spark was ignited, and quickly he brought it near the wood until the spark caught on. The man began to blow softly as the fire expanded, catching onto every twig and branch until it spread to the very ends of the wood, illuminating the empty expanse.

Hyunjin brought out a few edibles, while you hugged yourself a little tighter, the past-midnight air powering over the fire. He looked over the strips of meat, and slid his eyes to your satchel.

“Pass me your pan.”

You squint your eyes at him. “And why do you want my pan?”

The man cocked his head, locks of raven hair spilling over his shoulder. “Why would I want a frying pan, ____?”

“Don’t be smart with me!” You chanted, opening up your satchel, the black utensil in display.

“Just give me the damned thing,” he ordered, holding out a hand. You, on the other hand, curled a smile upon your lips as you brought it out, refusing to give him the pan.

“What is the magic word?” You asked, all sweet and sugary.

Hyunjin’s brows dipped in annoyance. “Now!”

“Wrong!” You sang out, swinging the pan in your hand. The gesture seemed to tick the man off even more. “Guess again.”

“____!” He snapped, and you let out a cackle at his reaction. “I am extremely tired and hungry, so stop toying with me and hand me the bloody frying pan.”

“Fine!” You responded, and did not realise the full intensity of you whacking the pan to him till it hit Hyunjin right in the face.

A pained groan escaped him as he dropped his meat, hand instantly rushing to his face to cover the scratch marring his cheek. You let out a shocked gasp, eyes instantly looking at his covered face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you began, hands reaching to his wrists, but he turned away from you, hissing.

“Damn it,” he cursed, pulling away slightly, and with slight distress saw an angry cut across his cheek. “Are you crazy?”

“Hyunjin, I’m so, so, so sorry, please—” you were about to beg for forgiveness when you had an idea.

“Oh yes!” you exclaimed, which was not received well with the injured beside you. You ignored his grumbling, and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, Ponyboy! Stop covering your face!”

“Stop calling me Ponyboy!” he retorted, but that was not important when you knew how to fix your little mistake.

You brought his hands from his face, and you blinked several times to notice the slash of the rusty pan. “Wait, stay still—”

“What are you trying to do?” he demanded, trying to pry your hands off but then you impaled him with your stare.

“Ponyboy, let me help.”

He matched your glower. “What are you going to do, huh? Save me again?”

You did not answer him, separating a small section of your hair as you wrapped it lightly around your finger. You then reached that hand out, bracing yourself for the touch.

The first caress of your fingers against Hyunjin’s cheek had him completely freezing his complaints.

Noticing, you were careful — so, so careful, when you relished the softness of his skin. It was incredibly unfair; had this man not travelled places, gotten himself in filthy situations, only for his skin to be flawless? You knitted your brows at this detail.

“I’m going to sing, now, okay?” you murmured to him. “Do not be scared over what happens.”

“Oh, because something magical is going to happen, no?” he taunted, eyes darting between you and you hair-engulfed fingers.

You only smiled at his ignorance before you closed your eyes.

Wait, how did the song go again?

Oh yes. I remember. Stupid ale. I’m never drinking again.

You parted your mouth and began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

Hyunjin stopped breathing.

“Let your power shine.

Make the clock reverse.

Bring back what once, was mine.”

Hwang Hyunjin stopped breathing, ceased completely because the moment the words fluttered from your mouth, the moment your hair began to glow all over, like molten lava slowly spreading over a volcano, he did not know how to function.

You continued to sing, distinctly aware of his eerie stillness as the hair, brushing against his cheek, performed its healing on the cut, forming more flesh from the damaged skin and repairing itself.

“Heal what has been hurt.

Change the Fate’s design.”

The verses rolled off your tongue, never opening your eyes as your fingers caressed his skin, wonderfully warm underneath you as additional warmth from your hair radiated all around the opening. The fire seemed so insignificant now, when you possessed all the light in the world, threaded within the locks of your hair.

And Hyunjin only watched, eyes starstruck over your transformation.

“Save what has been lost.

Bring back what once was mine…”

At last, you opened your eyes, meeting with the sole man in the forest. His awe-filed gaze beheld you, in all your celestial glory, and more warmth radiated from you, specifically from your cheeks.

You nearly forgot to end the healing poem.

“What once was...mine.”

The glow lingered when you closed your mouth. Your fingers lingered along his cheek.

His eyes, too, lingered upon yours. Almost unable to stray.

Even when his hesitant hand raised to your fingers, feeling the cut on his skin - now gone, courtesy of your witchcraft.

No. Not witchcraft. Magic.

“I…” he tried to say, but his words were paused, crippled under your fantastical abilities. “It...it is healed.”

You felt your hair’s light begin to dim. “I do not lie, Ponyboy.”

His gaze darted all over your face, one glance at your parted lips and felt another sense of warmth heating his face. “Hmm. I guess not.”

Something within you wished he would lean a little closer, share some of the heat which you were losing the longer you stayed silent. You dared not take the step, despite your entire mind begging you to stop being a coward.

Come on, Ponyboy. Do not fear like I do.

Perhaps it was only wishful thinking.

For the man clasped your fingers, and brought them down from his face, the hair curled around loosening. His hand, letting yours go, strayed to his side, where the damned frying pan lay discarded.

Hyunjin did not feel much like cooking anymore.

“We should sleep,” he said, leaning against the tree trunk. “There is still a day’s journey left for Corona.”

You only nodded, rounding up your locks and attempted to create a make-shift bed from the volume. He watched you work, shivering slightly from the icy night air, despite the fire still burning.

When finished, you dusted your dress, laying down upon the hair-bed, facing Hyunjin’s left, the side of his face darkened by the direction of the moonlight. He spread his leg before him, sighing out, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes.

Even then, he heard your teeth chattering.

Of course, he could always ignore it. It was not like him to care for the wellbeing of others, especially those who managed to piss him off every time they opened their mouth.

He glanced at you.

There you were, knees raised to your chest, curled up in a little ball with your masses of hair, engulfing you almost completely. Even with your magical advantages you trembled under the midnight chill, cursing nature for being too, literally, cold.

Hyunjin cursed too, but himself, when he took off his turquoise vest, sliding it off his arms, and stretched towards you.

It was your turn to still under another’s presence, as the leather attire settled on you like a blanket, instantly warming you under the shade of the oak trees. You let out a soft hum at the heat, and the man widened his eyes at the reaction. He found it annoyingly endearing.

“Thank you, Ponyboy,” you murmured to him, a lazy gaze on him.

He did not say anything in return. Only went back to his original position, fingers pinching his hair grip, sliding it out as his locks escaped from the tie, cascading his shoulders as he smoothed them down. He then sat down, leaning against the tree, spreading a leg before him.

A comfortable silence settled upon the both of you, save for the leaves rustling from the breeze and the sound of crickets scattered around the forest. You closed your eyes, fatigue creeping over you, but you held on to your conscious, a few unanswered questions in mind.

“Hey, Ponyboy?”

You heard, rather than see, the man sigh.

“Hmm?”

Keeping an eye closed, you observed his lack of movement, a hand upon his raised knee. “Why did you agree to letting me come with you?”

A soft scoff emitted from him. “Because you would have knocked me out with that damned frying pan if I said no.”

“No I would not!” you argued, but when he shifted his eyes to you in disbelief, you found yourself doubting your own words. “Well, well...you would have defended yourself just fine!”

“Whatever you say,” he said, facing ahead once more.

The quiet was blanketed upon the both of you once more, yet you still looked at him. Dear God, nature was truly unjust for making him so ethereal.

“Is there something else you wish to ask me, witch?”

You pouted at the name. “Do not call me that.”

“And you can keep calling me Ponyboy?”

The mention of the endearment had you giggling once again. “And what about it,” you mused, smirking,”Ponyboy?”

You smiled harder when Hyunjin tutted. “You are truly...impossible!”

A laugh escaped you, you shifting in your bed of hair. You could not help biting your cheek, as you wished to say one more thing to your companion, the man who had closed his eyes, ready to sleep.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he said, making you blink away the slight daze you were in.

You bit your lip before parting your mouth. “I…” you brought his vest closer to yourself.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Hyunjin opened his eyes.

“For what?”

“You know…” you ran a hand over his turquoise vest. “This. The inn...letting me come with you in general.” He was about to open his mouth to object, but you stopped him. “No, shush! You did not have to.”

He rested his stare upon you, locking his hands over his knee. “You saved me from death, ____. It is the least I can do.”

“Well,” you murmured. “Thank you anyway. For putting up with me.” you let out a huff. “Drunk and sober.”

A small chuckle emitted from him, raking his locks back. “I am never letting you drink again.”

“I bet.” you could not help the slight burning of your cheeks. “I must have been such a bane to your existence this entire time. I would not have been surprised if you left me at that inn.”

There was a pause after, and you figured he was tired of talking so you closed your eyes, ready to lose yourself to temporary oblivion.

Then you heard his whisper.

“I would never do that, ____.”

You dared not look at him. God, you could feel him looking at you, but you did not dare, for you feared what would happen if you matched your stare.

So you kept your eyes close, the image of a certain long-haired man lingering in your mind as you slept.

And the certain long-haired man you thought of, slumped against his tree, only watched you drift away to another world, wondering whether you truly were the bane of his existence.

The answer he received, as he closed his own eyes, scared him.

For no matter how drunk, how tenacious you might be, he would still not have abandoned you at the inn.

He could not have abandoned you at the inn. Anywhere, for that matter.

It was that rather strange thought, and his even stranger heart rate, which finally had him joining you in slumber.

THE TWO OF YOU TRAVELLED FOR ANOTHER TWO DAYS BEFORE YOU REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.

By that time you had fully recovered from your drunken state, and went through with the dire consequences that brought with it. Of course, Hyunjin made sure to mock you as your head hurt throughout the journey, and only ceased when you whipped out the frying pan, promising to hit him properly this time.

You both were actually arguing over the last slice of cheese when you looked towards the path, and spotted the giant, cream-coloured turrets, shooting up in the sky, peeking out from the trees. You let out a scream then, making Hyunjin nearly drop the cheese, and you took the reins from the boy as Kkami galloped faster towards the kingdom.

“Slow down, ____!”

But you did not listen to him, your hair about to fall from the horse had your companion not held onto the masses, and your blood began to thrum under your skin when the lining of the trees broke.

An excited scream lurched out of you.

A baby pink bridge stretched beyond your vision, guiding you to the entrance of the kingdom. It was plated in solid gold, and several people walked up and down, smiling politely at you as you stopped Kkami before the start. The entire castle was in full view, despite the length of the bridge, and you could barely contain the thrill which drummed in your veins.

“Hyunjin, do you see this?”

He did not share your raging enthusiasm. “Just carry on riding, witch!”

You stuck your tongue out to him before you snapped the reins, Kkami starting off on the bridge. You heard the waves lap against the stone, the clear blue water twinkling in the sun, and the citizens watched you rush past in mild surprise, not expecting someone to be this excited for entering the capital.

But of course you were excited. Especially when you arrived at the place you’ve been dreaming to see on your birthday.

“____, you heathen, slow down or you’ll get us killed!” Hyunjin shouted over the rapid clicking of the horseshoes over the stone.

You only obliged when you passed the entrance, guards nodding, and slowed Kkami’s gallop to a mild trotting around the streets. There was buzzing all around, thatched houses displaying colourful banners, depicting the fireworks which were to occur that evening, and many people seemed to have dressed up, enjoying each other’s company, children running around with kites and ribbons, playing and simply having fun.

It made you smile a little, seeing everyone in such harmony. You hoped you would be able to join in.

Hyunjin jumped off the horse, to your surprise, dusting himself off. “Off,” he ordered, hands out, and you complied, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you down, bare feet touching the cobblestone. Your hair tumbled down from the saddle, and a few people nearby watched in awe at your neverending locks.

“Why are we getting off?” you asked, picking up as much of your hair as you could.

Hyunjin grabbed onto the ends which you could not carry, one hand guiding Kkami along with him. “The fireworks are still hours away.” He began to walk, leading you deeper into the streets of Corona. “So I’m going to use this time to search for the whereabouts of someone.”

“Oh, is this the whole Jisung business?” your eyes darted everywhere, each flash of colour, of each depiction, drawing, painting of the fireworks.

You saw the man visibly stiffen. “Yes,” he muttered, fingers tightening on the reins. “I know a few friends in the city who might know where he went.”

“Show me the way, then!” you declared, returning each awe-filled smile one sent you. “If you have more friends like Mr. Chan and Seungmin then I want to meet them!”

Clicking his tongue, he said, “If you’re going to end up drunk with them I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re just jealous that your friends like me more than you,” you mused.

“You keep thinking that,” he only said dryly, though he feared that might be true. You had a habit of creating an unforgettable impression of yourself to others.

You certainly left that impression on the poor man who walked oh so carefully beside you.

Another turn of a street and you were met with various shops, the scent of various savories and sugary desserts tempting your nose, and your eyes being bombarded with all the goods from around the country. You demanded Hyunjin to provide you with some pastries, but he only glared in rejection, moving on from the stalls.

The man then stopped before a flower shop, dozens of different forms scattered around the opening. Stepping aside what nature has to offer, Hyunjin went inside, only to be met with more flowers.

“Felix?!”

“Who is that?” you asked, but your question was answered when a small, blond haired man stepped out from the back door, holding a bouquet of roses in his little hands. He adorned a peach-coloured shirt and black trousers, leather shoes thudding as he walked inside the shop.

This man smiled brightly at seeing your companion. “Oh, afternoon, Hyunjin!” he greeted. “I’m surprised to see you here..”

“I was not going to come to Corona so early, as well, but something has come up.” He looked around, tying Kkami’s reins onto the wooden column, holding up the shop sign. “Say, has Jisung met you in the past two days?”

Felix furrowed his brows in thought, sliding the roses in an intricately decorated vase. “No, actually,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him in about two months.”

“Damn it,” Hyunjin seethed, playing with a stray lock. “Is Jeongin here?”

“He’s outside, but he’ll be back any moment.” Felix then looked past you and your companion, and parted his mouth. “Ah, here we go!”

You turned around, and instantly softened at the beautiful boy which skipped into the flower shop, black curls bouncing along his step as he held bags, stained slightly with grease. “Felix, look!” He proclaimed, holding his possessions out and catching a glimpse of all the sugary goodness Hyunjin refused to buy you. “Lunch!”

The said-man rolled his eyes, dusting his hands. “You are crazy if you think I’m going to let you eat all of those pastries for lunch.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud!” Jeongin whined, propping the bags on the counter. He widened his grin at seeing the long-haired man. “Hyunjin!”

“Hey, buddy,” you heard him say, while he brought out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Tell me you’re still as troublesome for Felix as before.”

“I could never let you down,” Jeongin drawled, earning a laugh from his elder.

He then turned to you, and his mischievous demeanour dissolved into amazement. “Oh my, miss, your hair!” His eyes skimmed over the locks, astonishment growing. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

“It can be a nightmare,” you confessed, dropping the masses of hair from your arms. “Carrying it, at least.”

Jeongin studied your phenomenon a little longer. “Miss, may I offer you assistance, then?”

You raised a curious brow. “And what would that be?”

“Well, if it can be bothersome,” he started, locking his hands behind his back, a little shy. “How about I braid it for you?”

“You…” your eyes widened, your fingers threading through your hair. “Can you do it?”

The young boy looked to Hyunjin, who very much doubted him. “I mean, you can go about your business, and until then I can take some trouble away from the lady.”

“Jeongin,” Felix warned. “Don’t go asking things like that!” He turned his eyes towards you, apologetic. “I’m deeply sorry, my lady, but this boy is still learning to hold his tongue.”

“No, no, it’s alright, Mr. Felix,” you reassured him, facing Hyunjin as he, too, pondered over this offer.

The long-haired man eyed the youngest a little warily. “I will be nearby, so I guess ____ can stay.” he then knitted his brows. “If I hear that you caused any inconvenience to her—”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Hyunjin, we’ll be fine!” Jeongin sent you a dazzling grin, bowing. “I will be on my best behaviour.”

Felix propped a little hand to his hip. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Hyunjin slid his eyes to you, parting his mouth. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine!” Raising your hands, you turned the man around, pushing him out of the flower shop. “Go and find that Jisung man of yours and let me enjoy my birthday!”

“Alright, alright!” he looked over his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t miss me too much, Ponyboy!” you simpered, to which the man only rolled his eyes, leaving your sight as he turned to another corner.

You then turned to the two boys, smiling kindly. “In advance, I apologise if I annoy you with my rambling.”

Laughing, Felix gathered up a pot of orange tulips, turning towards the back door. “Ah, don’t be sorry, Miss ____, consider us good friends! I’ll be going in and out to check up on lunch but Jeongin will be here.”

“I won’t bore you, promise!” the younger exclaimed. “I have many good stories of Hyunjin!”

“Now that,” you get out as you laugh, “Is something I wish to hear.”

“Only for you, Miss ____,” Jeongin mused, gesturing towards a stool sat beside the counter. “You can sit here while I braid your hair. I don’t want you getting tired.”

You thanked him, walking over and settling yourself upon the cushioned seat. “If you can tie up all this mess, then I owe you a huge favour.”

The boy stepped towards your back, assessing how he was going to start this difficult process. Making an approving noise, he then grabbed the bags he first held when he came inside, bringing out a sugared doughnut and holding it out. “Snack?”

Seeing the treat had you yelling in joy. “Of course!” you took the doughnut from him, immediately digging in. “Thank you, Mr. Jeongin!”

“Please, Miss ____, just call me Jeongin,” he offered, separating your locks into three sections, splitting them downwards and creating distance between them on the floor. “I feel much too old when you call me that.”

“As long as you call me only ____,” you said as you ate, watching the busy street. You then felt a faint tightness on your scalp, and sensed the boy’s fingers commencing their task.

As Jeongin worked on braiding your hair, you slowly depleted his sweets, striking up conversations of the Kingdom, the shop and the people who dwelled here. You learned a great deal from his words, describing you the constant merriment within the walls throughout the year, yet today was the most important day for Corona - the fireworks celebrating the ascension of the King and Queen who lived in the castle.

The young boy also explained his relation to your grumpy companion, explaining that their acquaintance originated from childhood, when Hyunjin would fight off any bullies which tried to pick on him, yet would be the first to tease him whenever he had the chance. They, along with Felix and others, all grew up together, but Hyunjin had been the first to adventure out of Corona along with Jisung, who, too, was a childhood friend.

It was welcoming, hearing the humble beginnings of Hwang Hyunjin. A true shame he turned out to be a grouchy and annoying bastard.

You cocked your head, reassessing that statement. Well, he was not a bastard. That was a much too harsh a word to describe him. In truth, you wished you still harboured the feelings you first inhibited when you met him.

In truth, you found yourself warming up to him.

I would never do that, ____.

That night, beside the moonlit pond, when he declared in a quiet murmur that he would never abandon you, despite your irritable demeanour. It was terrifying, because it was all you could think about. Although it had not even been a week since you healed him in the woods, here you were, pondering over him as if you had been all your life.

This only added to your fear.

“Isn’t that so, ____?”

You perked up at Jeongin’s question, looking over your shoulder to see him already so far ahead in his task. The plait, each third huge and reducing the original length of your hair. You observed with further fascination that the boy had created another network of braiding, woven into the bigger thirds, and you let out a sigh of wonder, thankful for your miracle for the first time. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t listen.”

“Oh, I was just saying how Hyunjin should have stayed in the Kingdom, but he left to do whatever he did with Jisung.”

You brought your feet upon the railings of your stool. “Jeongin, what does Hyunjin actually do?” You asked, curiosity fresh on your tongue.

“Apart from being a pain in the rear?” A laugh escaped you, and Jeongin continued braiding, nearly finished. “Well, all I know is that he’s involved in a lot of trading circles. Every week I used to see him bringing something new from foreign lands.”

“So a true adventurer, then?”

Jeongin propped a third into another. “In a sense.”

After a half-hour Felix joined the two of you, mitten-covered hands holding a tray of hot bread as he set it on the countertop. He admired his friend’s artistry as well, taking off the gloves and watching for a little while as Jeongin was on the last parts of your hair.

He then spoke. “I have an idea.”

The younger kept working as he said, “Go on.”

Stepping past you so he faced you, Felix propped a finger over his chin. “Hmm...yes…”

You gave him a confused look. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

But he hurried out of the shop, grabbing different variations of small flowers, all ranging from soft, pastelled colours, and walked over to you again.

“May I?” He asked, and you nodded, understanding what he was about to do.

As you thought, the man picked out a blue forget-me-not, and planted it within the folds of your hair.

“Hmm,” he only got out, continuing this as he scattered more flowers in your locks, adding colour as he then moved past you, going behind as the flowers now littered the back of your head, lining against the plaits.

“Felix, this will take you forever!” You said, worried that you may waste their time.

“No it won’t, Miss ____,” he waved off your concern, carrying on the task as if it would not take him a whole day to complete. “We want your hair looking immaculate for tonight. Especially if it’s your birthday today!”

You smiled at the kindness, initiating further conversation with Hyunjin’s friends as they kept you entertained throughout the afternoon. It was the first time meeting them, and already you wished to see them often. Secretly, you envied your companion for having such sincere friends.

You, on the other hand, were never given the chance to create such special bonds.

It was another hour before you heard a satisfied noise escape the youngest, and you turned, catching a victorious grin on his face.

“It’s done, ____!”

On cue, you looked down, and gasped.

The finished braid was a masterpiece: all the networks of plaits were worked intricately into the original big three, and at the end were tied by a band of daisies, knotted so tightly there was hardly room for the locks to be set free. Felix tucked in the last of the flowers, and this added feature enhanced your hair even more, like a little garden of your own growing in your locks. The whole result had you returning their smiles.

“Oh my God, Felix, Jeongin!” you started, swivelling on your stool, braid following. “It's exquisite!”

The two mocked a bow at you, receiving your applause with grace. “It was our pleasure, ____,” the elder said, a toothy grin on display. “I know I like having flowers in my hair.”

“Now you’ll be the talk of the town,” Jeongin drawled, which had you hesitantly laughing. The younger’s eyes then perked up past you. “Oh, look, just in time!”

You turned in your seat.

Stilled at seeing Hwang Hyunjin catching sight of you. Your new hairstyle.

His eyes lit up at the change.

He saw the huge plait, and the flowers which littered in your hair, and thought he saw paradise inhabiting earth. He then saw your face accompanying this hair, and knew paradise will be staying for a while. Taking in the decoration, the intricate consideration of detail within your locks, had you elevated in every single way.

By God, he found you so beautiful.

Jeongin raised a brow over Hyunjin’s dumbfounded reaction. “Are you not going to say anything?”

But the man was silent, hands on his satchel tightening. He then saw an empty expanse in your hair, just above your ear, and had a little idea.

Spotting his favourite flower, he picked it up from the stash outside the shop, and slowly walked towards you, your eyes never leaving his.

When he stopped before you, he raised the white rose, sliding the small stem within your locks. It found home above your ear, and the man nearly swooned at how perfectly it suited you.

He curled his lips at the sight of you. “You look...ethereal.”

You cursed at the hairs at the back of your neck, which stood erect at the soft praise. “Thank you, Ponyboy.”

Jeongin let out a snort, in result receiving a glare from Felix. “Ponyboy?”

Hyunjin’s smile faltered. “Do not even ask,” he only snapped, and returned his focus to you. “Let’s go.”

You stood up from your stool. “Where are we going?”

He began to walk out of the shop. “Our next stop,” he said, smiling at your scowl over his vague answer.

As he glanced at his friends, he saluted, a gesture of friendly mockery. “Thank you, you two.”

“Anytime, Hyunjin,” Felix said, and he took your hand, pressing a chaste kiss upon your skin. “And thank you for letting us decorate your hair.”

“No, please,” you countered, “Thank you for such an extraordinary present. I won’t forget the gesture.”

“Do see us again, ____!” Jeongin exclaimed, which, after you chuckled, you promised you would.

After waving the two goodbye, you followed Hyunjin out of the flower shop, a confident stride in your step as your flower-kissed braid trailed after you.

The streets were fuller, the crowds more loud and excited as you two squeezed through people, with Kkami trotting behind on Hyunjin’s leash. The silly horse tried to pluck a few flowers from your braid but you made sure your hair stayed intact, having no intention of it being ruined in any circumstances.

“Hyunjin, where are you taking me?” You demanded, trudging through the streets. Your feet, still bare, began to hurt. “If we don’t stop soon I’ll collapse!”

He spared a glance at your step, wincing as a pained groan escaped you. “It’s not far,” he said, looking ahead once more.

“Ponyboy, can’t you carry me?” you whined, and when he turned back to see you, you braced yourself for a verbal lashing with the frown he adorned.

Instead, you were hit with something quite different.

After a hard, ragged sigh, he paused his walking, widening his arms from behind. “You better not be heavy,” he warned.

You watched him hunchbacked, dumbfounded at his acceptance. Since when was he complacent on giving you comfort?

Your cheeks then burned when you were reminded of that night again. Of the turquoise vest, which, although was hugging his lean figure now, was hugging you.

“Are you going to just keep staring at me,” Hyunjin jeered, bringing you back to reality, “Or are you actually going to jump on?”

“Oh!” you got out, and stepped towards him.

You slid your arms around his shoulders, locking your hands upon his chest. You then felt his hands wrap around your thighs, and a small breath went free from your throat as he hitched you upwards, grip tightening on you.

“You are very lucky to have me, witch,” the man gritted out.

He then yelped as you pinched his shoulder. “You are very lucky to have me, Ponyboy,” you only mused, and raised your fist in the air, despite the growing nerves. “Come on now, let’s get going!”

Hyunjin obliged you, starting up a heavy, yet steady pace towards their destination. Each time he took a step, it radiated off you, and you hoped to all the heavens above that your body would not give up on you. Every time the man hitched you higher, though, had the possibility becoming much less likely.

You had not realised just how much his hands on your thighs affected your very senses.

A few specifics from the crowd watched the two of you in adoration, murmuring how sweet it was for your lover to hold you when you were tired. When Hyunjin heard these whispers he nearly dumped you on the cobblestone, but you did not miss the scarlet blush which developed on his face. The rather charming image had you smiling as you rested your cheek against his neck.

The man kept his hands secure, never letting you go till you arrived at wherever he wished to take you. You only knew you arrived when his grip on you loosened, straightening his back so you had no choice but to feel the street beneath you. So bizarre that you missed his touch — his warm, welcoming fingers.

You followed to where he looked, and saw the front of the shop littered with shoes. Different types of footwear, all neatly stacked on wooden racks, their sizes carved into the wood. You did not have the time to carefully admire each design before Hyunjin tied Kkami to another column, feeding him an apple before taking your hand and leading you inside the store.

The minute you entered you were welcomed with a homely extravagance, more and more shoes being displayed all around you, different colours and patterns luring you into getting all the pairs. It was a little odd, that your companion wished to show you this place so eagerly, but when he rang a bell atop the counter, and another man with fire-kissed hair entered from another door, furiously sewing on the back of a child’s shoe, you assumed that he must be acquainted.

“Minho!” Hyunjin exclaimed, following the said-man to where he paused his stride, setting the shoe down and breaking the thread, finished.

“And what do you want?” was the heartfelt response, as the seller put the object under the counter. Hyunjin mockingly pouted, to which his friend scoffed. “Oh, you’re not getting any free clothes this time! Pay or go away!”

You let out a small chuckle at his tagline, and the man’s eyes darted to you, brow raised. “And who is this lady?” he inquired, fingers drumming on the countertop. “Who is much too beautiful to be accompanying this swindler?”

“Hey!” the man beside you objected, but you could not help the laughter which spluttered from your lips.

“My name is ____,” you said, locking your hands behind your back. You then roamed your eyes about the room, turning to him once again, awed. “Did you make all these yourself?”

“Why, of course!” Minho opened up the countertop, joining you as he admired his work. “I take pride in my work, and am glad you appreciate them.” He then glanced at Hyunjin, squinting his eyes. “It’s honest money, after all.”

Confused, you looked to your companion but he only rolled his eyes, waving off the comments. “Save the sarcasm for later, buddy,” he drawled, and propped a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Now show me your best shoes for women.”

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjin?”

Minho curved his lips. “Oh, trying to delve into a new world, now?”

“Shut up,” was his answer, as the long-haired man strolled further into the shop, right where all the elegant, more colourful shoes were inhabited. “Ah, here we go.”

You followed him hurriedly, not quite understanding. “Hyunjin, what are you doing?”

He only trailed a finger across the racks, humming to a few shoes which caught his eye. “Getting you a present.”

This only added to your shock. “What?” You breathed out, but he was too busy picking out a pair of boots, dark with silver lining around the edges. “Hyunjin!”

“How do you feel about these?” He held them out to you, who still did not comprehend why he was giving you a birthday present.

Well, it was your birthday. So why did you expect him to give you nothing at all?

“____!”

You blinked. “What?”

He holds the black boots. “What are your thoughts?”

Before you could answer, Minho clicked his tongue, walking to where you both stood. “Hyunjin, do you not know anything of styling?”

“What do you mean by that?” The long-haired man furrowed his brows.

“Whatever you think I did.” The shoe-seller turned to you, mock pity in his gaze. “My lady, let me help you out. This buffoon does not know the art of attire.”

“Ugh!” Your companion grumbled, and you could not help but melt a little at his pouted irritation.

Minho watched his friend cross his arms, looking away in annoyance. “Let him sulk,” he said, and smiled at you. “Until then, I’ll find you something worth your beauty.”

You return his enthusiasm, letting him whisk you further into the women’s section, all the shoes in fashion at the time displayed before you, begging to be worn by you. Minho’s designing eye had to be commended — the man knew how to create.

“Let me see what you’re wearing,” the orange-haired man ordered, and you gave him a little twirl of your violet dress, your flower-littered braid following.

“The flowers are adorable, might I add,” he said, and you thanked him excitedly, watching him choose more softer colours to pick your perfect pair of shoes from.

At last, his hands settled upon soft, ballerina-like shoes, lilac in colour and ribbons flaring out from the back. With a satisfied hum he brought out the pair, holding them out to you. “What do you think?”

You brought out your hands, holding the shoes, and felt your smile grow. “They’re so pretty,” you gushed, feeling the silky ribbon between your fingers. “May I try them on?”

“Go right ahead, my lady.” He gestured to a leather seat, and you sat yourself down, just as Hyunjin walked up to Minho, scowl still there. “Are you done moping around now?”

“Quiet, you,” your companion snapped, but his agitation faded when he saw you dust away at your feet, and slide them inside the shoes. Your other foot pursued the first, and you stood the ribbons scattered to the floor.

“You’re supposed to tie them,” Minho explained, about to show you when a hand stopped him.

He was met with Hyunjin’s determined features. “I’ll do it.”

You watched as the long-haired boy stopped before you, hands landing on your shoulders as he pushed you back on the seat. He then knelt before you, taking the attached ribbon in his hands. “May I?”

Your heart skipped happily a little beat. “Of course.”

Raising your leg slightly, you offered him easier access as he began looping the two strips of ribbon, one overlapping the toner and continuing this cycle till the material wrapped all the way up to your shin. You slid your dress higher, and only stopped when Hyunjin tied a little bow at the top of your entangled ribbon. He then did the same to your other leg, effortlessly wrapping the strips all around your leg till it hit the shin once more. After another bow, his fingers lingered on your leg, barely skimming over your ribbon-adorned skin.

He looked up at you, and an unrecognisable haze lifted in his eyes. “Happy birthday, ____.”

You certainly could recognise the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering much too uncontrollably. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Perhaps you both could have relished in this position forever were someone’s voice not dragged you both down to reality.

“Are you both going to keep eye-rutting each other or am I going to get my fare?”

You immediately stood up, feeling yourself heat up over the comment. Hyunjin, too, snarled at his amused friend, buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his vest. “I’ve got it, you greedy prick.”

“Good,” Minho only said, smirking at the two of you as he retreated to his counter, where all his gold was stored. You and Hyunjin followed him there, the slight distance having too much weight for it to be comfortable.

Your companion brought out a little bag, jingling as he set it upon the countertop. “This alright?”

Taking the bag, his friend weighed it with his hand, and nodded in satisfaction. “Better than that.”

“Thank you so much for this, Minho,” you began, putting a hand to your chest in respect. “I will cherish these shoes.”

“You better, my lady,” he teased, but returned your gesture.

You turned to leave with Hyunjin, beginning to head out when he stopped. “Oh, I nearly forgot!”

He rushed back to the seller, who sighed. “You just can’t leave me alone, can you?”

His question was ignored, and was instead presented with another. “Minho, have you seen Jisung recently?”

This had the fire-kissed man cocking his head. “I did,” he answered, shocking Hyunjin. “Yesterday, actually.”

“By God—” The long-haired man could barely contain himself. He whirled to you, pointing to the entrance. “You go outside and untie Kkami. I’ll be right out.”

“Hyunjin,” you tried to object, but the look on his face, the silent pleading, had you giving in, nodding grimly as you exited the shop, waving to the owner.

Kkami welcomed you with a hearty neigh, and you stroked his mane, slowly untying his reins. “Why does he not tell me things?”

Your answer was another noise from the horse, and you patted the creature, leading it out on the streets. The sun was descending, light still clear yet the first glimpses of oranges had arrived. The fireworks were mere hours away.

The man had not come out after a while, you looking back every now and then, catching concern in his dazzling features. The people’s excitement did little to have you join in, and you began to worry that something may be wrong.

You were about to go inside the shoe shop once more when you caught sight of Hyunjin exiting, hands fisted at his sides, expression grim.

Stopping before you, you worked up the courage to ask first. “What’s going on?”

Surprised, you noticed he could not even look at you. His eyes drifted away, a tick in his jaw, teeth grazing over another. Oh, the man was enraged.

When let in a deep breath, he faced you, catching guilt in his slender eyes. “I cannot be with you when the fireworks occur.”

Silence.

Despite the merriment around the two of you, the pure joy radiating in the kingdom, you felt your heart stop. “What?”

The man tightened his little ponytail, locks still caressing his neck as he tried to avert your gaze. “I have to be elsewhere when nightfalls, but I can show you where you can see them best, so you’ll be okay-”

“Hyunjin-”

He continued, closing his eyes. “I don’t want you missing the fireworks, so let me show you the best spot before I have to leave.”

You could not believe your ears. “Hyunjin, I-”

“And I know how important they are to you, so I suggest we start going right now, so I can be on my way-”

He would have gone forever, rambling excuses if you had not looked down, at his clenching, unclenching hands. If you had not reached your own hands out, clasping them with his. The man ceased his digression at the sudden contact, and finally whipped his head to you. His frantic eyes met yours, and something within you cracked.

You did not let go as you breathed out, “What’s the matter, Ponyboy?”

No irritation responded to you from the nickname. Only his commencing of his thumbs, stroking the back of your hands. “I have learned of Jisung’s location.”

Parting your mouth in surprise, you asked, “Where is he, then?”

“I do not know where he is now, but I know where he will go tonight.” his gaze scrutinised you. “And do not think I will tell you of that place.”

“What?” Bewildered, you took a step closer, and noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. At the time, you took no note of it. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because for the past few days I’ve been with you, the one thing I’ve learned about you is that you’re incredibly foolish.” You scoffed at this strange declaration, but he carried on. “I know that if you learned where I was going you’re going to follow, especially if I tell you not to go.”

You were about to object, but you shut your mouth, glancing sheepishly back at him. “Well, maybe you should let me come with you!”

“Damn it, ____, I probably would have any other time.” He let out a harsh sigh. “It is much too dangerous tonight.”

“Damn you, Hyunjin, what is it that’s so troubling that you even can’t tell me?” you demanded, your grip on his hands tightening. “What did this Jisung do to you?”

The mere mention of his name had the man hissing. “The bastard crossed me,” he guttered, and you felt his rage pour off of him. “And I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

You watched him helplessly, clinging onto his hands. “Hyunjin, please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me help you.”

As you watched his stare peer into you, you witnessed the chaos behind his eyes, a civil war raging within him whether to trust you or not. You prayed to the heavens that this man, this reckless, insufferable, heartwarming man, would let you in.

He opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry, ____.”

Letting go of your hands, he took the reins of his horse. “It’s too dangerous.” he then murmured to himself, and although it was quiet, you heard the words well enough.

“God forbid if I let you get hurt.”

He then stepped passed you, already walking ahead, leaving you to catch up to his agitated stride.

Of course you were angry. How could you not be? you asked yourself as you followed him, refusing to stroll beside him. You two have been travelling together for nearly a week, yet he still does not trust you enough to tell you of his troubles. Disappointment washed over you more, for ever thinking he would give you a chance.

You knew that if you were in his position, you would tell him everything.

After a few twists and turns of the street, you were met with a network of ports, a whole civilisation mingling upon wooden stilts. Boats of all shoes and sizes docked along the wooden lines, and you saw with mild surprise that barrels of fireworks were filled to brim on each deck.

“Around the evening, this place will clear away, and all the little boats will enter, offering places to see the fireworks.” Hyunjin glanced at you, but you refused to meet his eyes. “Find yourself a boat, and have him row you beyond the kingdom.”

Nodding, you began to descend on the steps, until your wrist was caught by his hand. “____.”

Still, you looked ahead.“What?”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “You know I’d let you come if circumstances were different.”

Silence was his answer, to his immense dismay. He let go of your hand, and instead had you gripping your horse’s reins. “Take care of Kkami while I’m gone.”

Holding on, you looked back, and made sure he drank in the solemnity of your gaze. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little laugh huffed out of him; it was all he could offer, when he turned, and strode into the crowds of Corona.

God. It physically hurt seeing him leave.

Kkami neighed softly. “I know,” you only said, already wishing dusk would arrive.

At least the fireworks were still happening. Something you’ve been wanting to see for years is right before you now.

So with that small consolation, you sat down on the stone steps, watching the port’s business as you stretched your feet, now adorned in a Hyunjin’s birthday present, and waited for time to pass. Sometimes, when your mind drifted to that certain man, you would run a shaking finger over the white rose embedded in your hair.

This was harder than you thought.

The sun began to descend some more, the blue sky morphing into more oranges, reds and pinks. The atmosphere was hushed now, chatter still here and there, but almost awaiting for something. The larger ships had set sail long before, and, just as Hyunjin had said, smaller boats populated the docks, devoid of the fireworks.

Curiosity peaking at your mind, you heaved up to your feet, dusting the back of your dress, and, tugging Kkami, decided to go upon the wooden wharf, taking the longer route without the stairs.

The horse, seeing the water, began to stomp its hooves, but you reassured him, stroking its long face as you led him along the dock, careful of the sailors.

You reached near the end of the dock, and noticed a small boat anchored at the very edge, fireworks stored all around it. There was a small man settled inside the boat, tying up stray objects with rope, whistling sweetly away. You tried to take a step forward, but Kkami neighed loudly, frightened to get closer to the bed of water.

“Kkami!” you seethed, trying to calm the creature down, but it only made more noise, stirring the people around you. Sending them apologetic looks, you took out a carrot, seducing the animal with it until it settled, munching on the vegetable.

“Careful with that fine horse of yours, Miss!”

Startled, you turned around, and saw the same man you were looking at now staring back at you. He had a friendly, curious smile upon his face. His dark locks were swiped back with a dirtied cloth, tying at the back of his neck. His loose shirt followed the sea breeze, and as you took a step closer, his hands came into view, roughened with labour.

Catching your expression, he chuckled to himself, a sweet little sound despite his appearance. “You should know horses don’t like the water much,” he explained, continuing with his work.

“Ah, sorry,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s my first time taking care of a horse. It’s my friend’s, you see.” You could not help the irritation slip.

The sailor sure sensed it. “Oh, no,” he mused, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Has this friend let you down in any way?”

Careful to tie Kkami along the railings, you walked towards him, fisting your hands. “I was going to watch the fireworks with him,” you confided. “But he just abandoned me! To go heaven knows where!”

The man scoffed, tying the fireworks. “A man, I presume?” you nodded, and he sighed, setting the bunch in his boat. “Just tell me the name, my lady, and I’ll take care of him for you.”

You huffed out a laugh at his offer, waving it off. “Oh, it’s alright. I just wish I knew where he was.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” the man reassured you. “As long as he has not gone anywhere near the castle walls.”

You paused as the words left his mouth. “Why?”

He turned to you, leaning back in his boat. “A lot of suspicious dealings happen there, my lady. Almost every thief in Corona sells their faux possessions along the abandoned walls of the palace. Especially today, with everyone distracted by the fireworks.”

The moment you heard this information, you felt your interest spike to the clouds. “Oh?” you sat yourself upon the docks.

“My lady, please.” He gestures to a free seat upon his boat. “I cannot have you sitting on this dirty wood.”

He held out a hand, and you took it, taking a mindful step onto the boat, and, making sure you weren’t going to fall into the waters, stepped inside, hull shaking as you settled down before the man. He let go, and put that hand on his chest. “I’m Changbin, by the way,” he introduced. “I need to prepare for the fireworks but I’m only just behind.” He then regarded your hair, wonderment in his gaze. “How long is your hair?”

“The name’s ____, and longer than you think,” you replied, bringing the massive braid in front of you, stroking the flowers. “You said there were thieves in the Kingdom?”

Changbin looked at you incredulously. “____, there are crooks everywhere around here.” his incredulity then turned a little timid. “I must confess, I was one myself.” he then sat up. “Not anymore, though! I swore never to degrade myself like that ever again.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you consoled him. “I assume it would have been entertaining.”

“I guess so.” He relaxed once more, watching the lazy waves lap over each other. “Though I had never done anything too fantastical.” He pondered some more. “Actually, there was one adventure I partook in. Hellish, but incredibly delightful.”

The sailor then exhaled deeply. “Maybe that’s because I was on a job with Hyunjin.”

You were about to ask more when you stilled.

Hyunjin.

“Did…” you knitted your brows, not sure you heard him properly. “Did you say Hyunjin?” You leaned in, now fully focused. “You know him?”

Changbin stared at you for a few seconds before he burst into laughter. “Who doesn’t know of Hwang Hyunjin?

“The most famous thief of the Kingdom.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Hyunjin? A thief?”

“Why, the greatest one out there!” He chuckled some more. “I was very lucky to go on an exploit with him, but he usually stole treasure alone.”

He then corrected himself. “No, in fact, there was someone else he always committed his plundering with. Damn it, I can’t remember the name…”

Your assistance was barely a whisper. “Jisung?”

“Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “Those two were joined at the hip. Though, mind you, ____, I spied the man wandering around the streets alone.”

“You did?”

A nod was your answer. “He had this big bag with him, and from my previous adventures with them I knew it was Hyunjin’s.” Changbin drummed a finger upon his chin, lower lip sliding over the top. “Something suspicious is amiss.”

With the way your eyes widened, everything coming to you in an instant, you knew.

Something horrific will go down.

Jisung’s apparent betrayal, from the conversation at the tavern. Hyunjin saying it was too dangerous to disclose wherever he was going to go. Changbin revealing a huge trade off occurring around the castle walls, including the big thieves of Corona.

It all made sense.

You suddenly shot up, yelping as you nearly fell off the boat. “Careful!” the man warned, but acting with caution was the least of your concerns when you now knew where that long-haired bastard was.

“Changbin, I have to go to the palace walls,” you said, hopping quickly off the shaking boat.

The sailor, steadying it, stepped onto the docks, too, puzzled over your sudden change. “Good God, why do you want to go tonight?”

He then looked into your eyes. Saw the desperation, the realisation that hit you not moments before.

“Oh dear God!”

Walking to you, he planted a hand upon his forehead.”Hwang Hyunjin’s the friend?”

“Changbin,” you began, looking back on the streets. “He’s in deep trouble. He’s gone near the castle walls to confront Jisung and I’m so scared something’s going to happen.”

Looking ahead, the sailor bit the inside of his cheek, weighing in his options. He glanced at his boat, and the fireworks, needing to be transported near the palace. “We need to be quick, _____.”

Bringing out a dagger, glinting in the new moonlight, he asked, “Do you have a weapon with you?”

You searched through the bags strapped upon Kkami, and whipped out your frying pan. “Got it.”

Changbin raised his brows, but decided against commenting on your choice. “Keep the horse here, then. We need to be as quiet as possible when we arrive at the wall.”

He then stepped past you, leading you up the steps and back into the crowd, making sure you’re close behind. The two of you made little noise as you left the populated streets, diving into private neighbourhoods, avoiding questionable groups who stared at you, and only averted their gaze when Changbin flashed his dagger in the moonlight.

As the palace came closer in view, you felt your nerves return. Not even for yourself, you realised, as you turned another corner, walking silently along the muddied footpaths. More for the long-haired thief who may or not be in extreme danger.

You prayed to the heavens he was okay. Because if something happened to him, you really did not know what you would do. Did not even want to comprehend the turnout of events if things turned sour.

“____.”

You perked up at the mention, realising that you had reached the start of the palace barricade. The walls towered over the two of you, fencing you from the inside of the royal lands. Changbin looked at your right, and sure enough, at the far end, from the houses clustered together in a close, a group of men were gathered. The sailor beside you crept closer, back against the house walls, and you journeyed nearer, the former quickly switching to another residence, taking you with him. Beyond the building, you both studied the group closer. Before you, with his back to you, was a slender figured man, his black longcoat blowing in the night breeze. Although you could not see his face, you heard his uncontrollable cackling, taking a step closer to the group, holding onto a certain fugitive.

You nearly let out a scream. There he was, your esteemed Ponyboy, struggling to free from the thieves’ hold as he raged against the man before you. His semi-ponytail was left down, stray locks tumbling over his face, and his boots dug into the cobblestone.

“Look at you,” this man cooed, leaning into your companion. “All angry and ready to slit my throat.”

“You took what was mine!” Hyunjin roared. He was met with another round of heartless laughter, and you realised that this man was no doubt the notorious Jisung.

“We need a distraction,” Changbin said, looking around the dimmed area. “Otherwise…”

He did not need to say more.

“I took what was needed to send a signal,” Jisung clarified, studying something in his hands. However, you could not see. “That I have no desire to share my treasures with you.”

“You bastard!” the captive growled, but was shoved down by Jisung’s men once more. “I did all the work! I put my life on the line and you know that!”

“A shame that life wasn’t taken,” was his cool answer. “Now I’m going to have to take it myself.”

You and Changbin exchanged fearful glances. You needed to act. Now.

Just as the sailor was about to step into the scene, loud music began to play.

Sounding from nearby, it not only stopped you, but the thieves in front of you. It was a sweet harmonising with a flute and a fiddle, and, puzzled, you saw the same expression on Hyunjin’s capturers.

Then, you heard the voice which led the music.

“Who has the right mind to be singing in a neighbourhood like this?” Changbin whispered furiously, but you only answered his question with a knowing smile.

It was the same, mellow call which you drank to at the tavern. And when another voice joined in, you nearly laughed, already remembering the fond memories.

Mr. Chan and Seungmin arrived just in time.

Jisung turned his head to the direction of the music, and you saw the side of his face, doe eyes marred in irritation, thin lips pursed. “Who the fuck is belting out a song at this hour?” He looked to the four men, pointing to two. “You both! Go check the drunkards and shut them up.”

Obeying the command, the rest still kept an iron grip on Hyunjin, who, you could tell with a broken heart, was losing his strength. The fury, however, was still there, daggering his former partner in crime.

“Now, tell me, Hyunjin,” Jisung mused, wrenching the man’s face forward with a hand, clasping his cheeks. “How did you manage to heal yourself so quickly?” His gaze dipped, to the dried blood stains on his turquoise vest. “I was sure you’d die off from the stab wound.”

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”

Jisung, scoffing, dug his nails in his cheeks, causing Hyunjin to release a pained exhale. “I can see that, you little prick. Now I know it was deep enough to take weeks to heal.”

He leaned in, tilting his head in curiosity. “How did you manage to fix yourself up like that? Where did you find such a miracle?”

Your companion was about to snarl out a retort when his eyes darted beyond Jisung, into the dark. He caught the sight of a white rose.

His eyes, then, caught sight of you.

Of you, hiding in the shade.

His mouth stayed parted.

You pressed a finger to your lips, taking a careful step out of the dark.

“Oi! Hyunjin!” Jisung forced him to look at him again, anger simmering. “What was the miracle?!”

Your long-haired thief watched his once best friend, a still peace harbouring his face. With one last glance towards you, he smirked, sliding his gaze back.

“It was no miracle, Jisung,” he rasped out.

“It was witchcraft.”

Just then, when you were about to swing your frying pan down on Hyunjin’s nemesis, a deafening sound erupted from the earth.

Blinding lights shot into the sky. Exploded into millions more, blazing into different directions. More coloured brilliance followed, illuminating the night.

You felt your soul at a standstill.

“The fireworks!”

Hyunjin, watching everyone distracted, took the golden opportunity and raised his fists to the men’s chins, causing them to yelp in pain. They released his hold on him, and the man wrenched free, already on one of Jisung’s lackey’s.

The leader took note of the commotion, widening his eyes. “For God’s sake, it’s two against one!”

Soon, it was two against two as Changbin raised his knife, charging towards the other man. He landed a damaging hit on his shoulder, and the chase began in taking them down.

His back still to you, you raised the pan, watching him about to charge towards Hyunjin.

You were ready to swing it on his head when the second round of fireworks started.

Looking back, completely off guard, this time they were more victorious, like beacons bursting in the cloudless sky. It was a shame the castle blocked the main view of their ascent, only seeing wisps of the blaze.

However, remembering you have a man to knock out, you turned to see the very nemesis.

Jisung, although not very large in build, had a calculating, cunning face which chilled you to the bone. Even your arms felt numb holding the pan, when his stare penetrated through your every layer.

“Oh my,” he murmured, taking a slow step towards you. Reflexively, you took one back, weapon still out. “And who might you be?”

“Hyunjin’s miracle,” you spat, and you dared to take a full swing of the pan.

To your absolute horror, Jisung instantly dodged, ducking and then grabbing the handle from you. He waved it in the air, grinning like a demon in your scary stories.

“Look at you,” he purred, continuing his tempered pace towards you. Fear curled in your stomach, hands slack at your sides, feet backing away. “Trying to fight me with a kitchen utensil.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s almost adorable.”

You did not realise how long you were retreating for till your back hit the murky, palace walls. When you caught the predatory gleam in Jisung’s eyes, your breathing nearly ceased to work.

“You really thought you’d save your little thief,” he crowed, daring another step, creeping closer, too close for your liking. He threw the pan behind him, skidding along the cobblestone. “With what? A sailor and a frying pan?”

When he was only a mere few inches from you, he regarded your braided hair, the flowers which littered among each strand. You froze up completely when his fingers reached out, tucking in a stray curl behind the beloved rose.

“Or perhaps it was your infinite locks that healed him.”

You could not suppress the shiver that escaped you, and he, noticing, snickered, planting the hand beside your head. “Where is your salvaged thief now?” he whispered.

The fireworks erupted behind you still, and you closed your eyes, not able to take in what was to happen next. Hyunjin was right. You should never have come here.

But you would have done it again without hesitation. Ponyboy was in trouble, and hopefully he took this opportunity and ran away from this scene.

You would fight a thousand Jisungs to save him, over and over again.

Jisung was about to take the next step, do something unnamable.

Till you heard the loudest PANG!

Instantly, you opened your eyes, and found the wicked man being thrown to the side, thudding on the dirty cobblestone. From the sound of the pang! You knew that this man was unconscious. He ceased to even move.

You whipped your head to whoever knocked Jisung out straight.

And let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

Hwang Hyunjin stood before you, heaving as he held up your frying pan. His eyes, dilated, were rooted to you, and his mouth was parted, mist escaping his lips and joining the cool night air.

Silence fell upon the close, with Changbin finished dealing with the last of men, and the two of you just stared and stared at each other till you let out a ragged sigh.

“You can never insult my frying pan again.”

You waited for him to laugh, or even scoff at your ridiculous statement after experiencing a life-threatening situation.

The man did not even smile.

Only dumped the pan upon the ground before he was on you in seconds.

His hand clasped onto your wrist, and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his chest, and when he wrapped his arms around you, you found yourself being nearly crushed with his hug.

He nestled his head into your neck, his locks falling to your shoulder, free of the ribbon which tied them. “This is why,” he muttered upon your skin, “I did not want you following me.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, returning his embrace. “If you get to save me, I get to save you too.”

There was a heavy pause. “You missed the fireworks because of me,” he whispered, and hearing the guilt in his voice nearly undid you. “I don’t even know how to compensate for something you’ve waited so long to see.”

Although there was that downside, something within you wasn’t as devastated at the thought as you’d expected to be. “There’s always next year, Ponyboy,” you reassured him. You then smiled deviously. “Or should I say thief?”

Hyunjin pulled away slightly, holding you still as he blushed scarlet with embarrassment. “I suppose you know I’m no adventurer.”

You caught the slight fear in his eyes, and your heart broke. He really thought you’d be wary of him now that you knew of his true identity.

Squeezing his shoulders, you offered him mischief through your smile. “Being a witch isn’t so far off from being a thief.”

A little laugh spluttered from him, but he quickly reigned in his amusement, looking at you once again. “You know, I never really wanted to do this,” he confessed. “As a child, I always had to look out for myself, and stealing was the only way to escape poverty.”

His hands tightened on you. “I really want to get out of this mess. In fact, I was going to let Jisung get away with everything, but he took something very precious of mine.”

He turned to his satchel, the one his nemesis was said to have pinched, and went through the inside until he brought out the most stunning necklace, the diamonds glistening as gold swirls curled along its edges, the golden chain studded with more of that jewel all around.

“Hyunjin,” you breathed out, observing the jewellery. “It’s beautiful.”

The man hummed in agreement. “It was my mother’s,” he said, admiring the necklace. “It is the one of the few things which is truly mine.”

His soft voice hardened. “Jisung stealing it was the last straw for me.”

You upheld his gaze. “I would have done the same.”

He did not say anything for a bit, just regarding you under the moonlight. Well, in his eyes, it was more admiration, awe-stricken marvelling.

You, in his eyes, were a little too stunning under this night.

The thief was to say offer something when he heard more voices.

Freezing, he turned around, only to find more men joining Changbin. The men who contributed in saving him.

After staring at you a moment longer, he let go of you. “Let’s join the others.”

You nodded, not missing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to his friends. Chan, Seungmin and Minho were all talking amongst themselves, despite the unconscious bodies around them. They all noticed you both walking towards them, and instantly they all smiled at your arrival.

“____!” Chan exclaimed, raising his wooden fiddle in excitement.

“We missed you so much at the inn!” Seungmin added, holding his silver flute.

“I nearly died ten minutes ago, prick,” Hyunjin guttered, but was only responded with more laughter.

Minho, raking a hand through his fire-kissed hair, clicked his tongue at you, dipping his eyes. “Not even a day and you’ve muddied the shoes,” he drawled, earning a stuck out tongue from you.

“When did you arrive?” you asked him. “I only heard Chan and Seungmin’s singing.”

“I was handling more men further ahead.” he then rolled his eyes. “Felix and Jeongin were supposed to help me but the little one’s stomach started to hurt. Apparently he ate too many doughnuts in the afternoon.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, eyebrows raised, and you scoffed. “Excuse me! You were taking your time! Not my fault Jeongin and I got hungry.”

“You did not get to see the fireworks, then,” Seungmin stated. You shook your head, hugging yourself a little tighter.

“What a shame,” Chan said, sadness in his usual cheerful tone. “I remember you talking about the event so fondly.”

Changbin, who was quiet throughout, then spoke up. “Actually,” he started, looking at you. “I think I can fix that.”

You and all the men turned to him, baffled. He only said, “Minho, bring Felix and Jeongin to the docks in fifteen minutes. Bring some good snacks with you.”

“What have you got in mind, Bin?” Hyunjin asked, furrowing his brows, but Changbin only stepped past the group, whistling.

“Follow me, friends!” he declared, sheathing his dagger. Everyone, still confused, decided to follow, save for Minho, who turned to another avenue to fetch the absent two.

You and Hyunjin walked side by side, hands skimming against each other as the men in front of you led you out of the network of residences, until you were away from the palace walls, and any more danger.

Soon, you found yourself descending the same steps where the thief had left you to face Jisung. The people had dispersed, as the fireworks had ended, yet when Changbin turned the corner, to the far end of the harbour, his little, firework-filled boat still floating upon the sea. Kkami was present too, waiting patiently for his owner to return, and when Hyunjin saw him he sighed in relief, hurrying towards him.

The horse neighed eagerly as the man stroked his mane. Changbin stepped past him, carefully getting on the boat, searching for some flint and steel.

It was then you realised.

“We’re getting our very own fireworks show!”

The sailor grinned at your enthusiasm. “We can’t let a lady be disappointed.”

Chan tapped on his fiddle. “Seungmin and I can play the music!” he declared, wrapping an arm around his friend.

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, I’d love to dance!”

“Let me join in!”

Stunned, you whirled around, and found Jeongin running up to you, beaming from ear to ear as Felix and Minho followed behind, holding food. You returned his smile, calling, “Jeongin! Feeling better now?”

Blushing, he scratched the back of his neck, raven waves curling under his ears. “Ah, I really wished I could have helped at the palace walls, but my stomach chickened out on me.”

Felix tutted as he set the food along the benches. “I told you to stop eating, but you do not listen!”

“He goes after all of us here, then,” Minho commented.

“Can someone help me with the lighting?” Changbin asked, and the men flocked to assist him.

Only Hyunjin stood rooted as he tied his messy locks back, staring at you with an indecipherable emotion.

It did not go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

You could tell he was thinking. Pondering hard over what he wanted to do next.

He then brought his hands upon your shoulders, turning your back to him. “Hyunjin?” you got out, surprised, but he said nothing as you heard him fishing something out of his satchel.

You were about to turn around and scold him when you felt cold metal upon your neck.

Looking down, a small gasp escaped you when you found his mother’s necklace settled on your skin, tinkling as the man clipped the lock under your head of hair. When he was done, he spun you around, assessing the added accessory upon you.

He smiled lovingly at the sight.

“Hyunjin, I-” you started, trying to untie the necklace. “I-I can’t take this from you.”

Pausing your efforts, he held onto your hands. “Yes you can. I want you to have this.” you tried to argue some more, but he raised his brows. “No! I don’t want to hear more.”

Your eyes swirled with something akin to affection. “Hyunjin.”

His lips curved upwards. “You know, ____, I always call you a witch but…” he let out a shuddered breath, fingers playing with a stray curl. “But you certainly never looked like one.”

Your heart, damn the thing, fluttered at the statement. You only held onto the lapels of his vest, wishing that all these people would fade away, if only for a moment.

The long-haired thief leaned in a little, tugging you closer, and perhaps he would have closed the distance were it not for Changbin letting out a victorious screech.

“It’s happening, everyone!”

He quickly jumped off the boat, others following as the spark was lightened. Everyone took a few steps back, watching the spark fuse closer to the fireworks, Hyunjin holding onto you still.

Chan bumped his elbow against Seungmin, firing up his instrument. “Let us liven up, everyone!”

Seungmin brought the mouth of the flute to his lips, and instantly, music began to fill the docks.

“When will the fireworks start?” Minho demanded, tapping his foot, but when Felix shushed everyone, they all watched as the fuse hit the heart of the firecrackers.

The first thing that welcomed you all was a very loud BANG!

Everyone jumped at the sheer light which flashed before your eyes, shooting for the stars as it burst into the sky, scattering bright brilliance upon the sea. More and more fireworks joined in on this fire-like race, exploding everywhere in the air, igniting gasps of wonder from the crowd.

You were the most awed in the entire group. Ever since you were young, you had admired this show from miles away, but now, when it was a few metres from you, it filled with you with the same light that it spluttered down on you. Although it was not the official fireworks which you wished to see originally, this alternative was just as extraordinary - more so, as it was done just for you.

The fireworks were then accompanied with music, being fired up once more by the innkeepers, and instantly everyone began to dance along the merry beat, singing along to Seungmin’s and Jeongin’s honey voice.

You joined in on this fun, making sure to swing along to the music with everyone, joining arms with Jeongin and then moving to Minho, changing to Changbin and then frolicking with Felix, you even sang with Seungmin, chuckling with Chan as you try to steal his fiddle, and you twirled and twirled in the middle, dress and plait trailing after you.

Hyunjin, sat upon the benches, clapped to the merriment, his smile lingering whenever a breathless laugh escaped you as you danced with all his friends. When you caught sight of him settled alone, you ran to him, ushering him to join in. he refused at first, hurryingly saying he hated to dance, but you grabbed onto his hands and wrenched him off the bench, a yelp fleeing his lips as he was dragged into the center.

Hands still clasped, you led them about your waist, not missing the blush staining his cheeks as you planted your hands on his shoulders, moving him along to the music.

“Oh, my, Ponyboy,” you drawled as you felt yourself being led by hands. “You are a good dancer.”

“I never said I was bad at it,” he mused, twirling you around. You tried to fight your smirk, both pairs of eyes joining in their twinkling.

Yours began to glisten even more when you dared to say, “You know, Ponyboy,” you started, voice dripped with mischief.

He watched you, lips twitching. “Yes?”

“When the fireworks occur…” you lock your hands behind his neck. “You’re supposed to kiss the person you’re dancing with.”

The way Hyunjin's eyes widened at the implication had your stomach in disarray. The surprise quickly darkened when he leaned in, cocking his head. “Oh, really?” his little chuckle was felt on your lips. “It is too bad you’re a witch, then.”

Returning his laughter, you dared raise your fingers to his ribbon, untying the strip and letting his luscious curls fall at his shoulders. “What a blessing for you,” you said, “That this witch does not follow the rules.”

The man’s smile was unforgettable. “Neither does this thief.”

That was all he said, before closing the distance between you two.

The moment his lips touched yours, it was like another round of fireworks had erupted. This time, these fireworks were within you and the man before you, moving plush lips against you and bringing you the finest form of sweetness you had ever tasted. You melted under him, he pulling you right against his chest, unable to accept any distance between the both of you.

A soft noise left you as he pulled away from you, mouth parted, glistening like the diamonds adorning you. Around you, cheers broke out from the boys, whooping at the kiss you and Hyunjin shared. Although your cheeks burned, you giggled at their reaction, staying close with the thief.

The dancing only continued, as the fireworks still illuminated the docks. You turned to Hyunjin once again, whose hands encircled your waist still.

As you moved slowly along to the music, the man dipped his face, settling his forehead against yours. His erratic breathing mixed with yours. “I am...so happy to have met you, witch,” he whispered to you.

Your heart, if it was not already in the clouds, now elevated to seventh heaven. “You’re not so terrible yourself, thief.”

It was his answering smile which had him pulling you closer again, finding paradise in your arms as you and your friends danced the night away under the fireworks.

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