#also hey cupid is coming out tonight and you have another night of peace i think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monstersandmaw · 4 years ago

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Nonbinary incubus x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

"Keep the Tumblr stories to around 3k words, Ghosti."

"So how long is this one?"

"Oh... uh..." *shuffles* "...Five and a half thousand?"

Haha, yes, as much as I tried, this one is also a bit longer than I wanted, but, for the third story available for the $5 tier on early release this month, I give you 5.5k words of nb incubus x reader. We also have a new location to add to Starfall Springs, and it's not quite what you might expect for the sleepy little town...

Contents: our incubus would probably have been assigned male at birth but they use they/them pronouns, gender/body neutral reader, erotic dancing, and come-marking if you squint...

This has been up on my Patreon for a week now on early release so it’s time to put it up here on Tumblr.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you asked, blinking at your friend in open-mouthed incredulity. “Starfall Springs has a… strip club?”

The gnoll grinned, the look absolutely feral for just a heartbeat. “Oh yes. The Silkfoot family tried to have it closed down, especially after their youngest son was seen frequenting it, but Sarrigan actually helped to fund it as one of his business ventures after he started up his antiques company… It’s doing really well…”

“Well… I don’t know what to say! I never would have thought that a sweet, sleepy little place like Starfall Springs would have something so…”

Mako’s brows rose - as much as a gnoll’s could, anyway - and he yipped softly in amusement and dug you in the ribs. “We’re definitely going there now for your birthday.”

“Mako, I’ve never… I… I don’t know if it’s my kind of place, you know?”

“Come on, it’s not as if it’s that wild. As you say, it is Starfall Springs after all…”

You swallowed, not entirely sure you believed him, but in the end, you agreed to go.

Your birthday dawned bright and warm, and before any of your friends or family could message or call, you took yourself off to the dinky little harbour in the town to treat yourself to a takeaway breakfast from the bakery, and a coffee from the tiny little cart that made the best damned coffee in the universe. It was something for yourself, and it had become a sacred ritual back in the city. Now, as you strolled through the quiet streets, with nothing but your own footsteps and the whispering promise of the sea at the end of the cobbled lane for company, you smiled. Moving to Starfall Springs had been one of the best ideas you’d ever had.

“Morning!” Khargrin smiled as you stepped into the bakery and inhaled blissfully, eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the sheer gorgeousness of the scent of bread and sugar in the air.

You returned the smile to the enormous orc, and placed your order for two of their fresh pastries.

“Still warm from the oven,” Khargrin chuckled as he slid them into a paper bag for you. “Here.” He frowned slightly. “Anything special about today? You’re earlier than usual,” he asked, still holding onto the bag as you went to take it.

Laughing, you admitted that it was your birthday, and he promptly refused to take any kind of payment.

“I didn’t tell you that so you’d give me free breakfast, Khar,” you groused.

He let go of the bag as if it had burned him and said with such melodramatic flare that a mummer would have been proud of the display, “You’ve touched it now! You have to take it! Get out of my shop, foul human! Begone! And have yourself a wonderful birthday while you’re at it!”

Shaking your head fondly at the big orc’s antics, you accepted but didn’t leave right away.

“Any plans for today?” he asked as he bustled about, stocking the display with goodies from the back.

“Quiet day, I think,” you said, “But Mako has plans for tonight… I’m wary.”

“Knowing that gnoll, it involves Midnight Aurora, doesn’t it?”

“Midnight Aurora?” The name wasn’t familiar to you. “You mean the club over on the north side of town?”

The orc nodded. “Yup. And before you say anything about it, my sister works there…” he added with a twinkle in his eye and a lopsided grin on his handsome face.

“I will think very carefully before I tell you about my reaction to my experiences there then,” you grinned. “Anyway, see you Khargrin.”

“Enjoy your day,” he said. “And your night. And if it involves my big sister at all, I don’t want to know.”

You snorted and headed out into the brightening day. The fresh wind hit you full in the face, bringing with it the sharp tang of iodine from the sea, and you watched two merfolk spiralling through the water like racing dolphins, breaching the surface and sending sparkling droplets spraying up against the side of a moored fishing boat before they cleared the boundary of the harbour and disappeared out into the wider ocean.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” a quiet voice said from beside you.

Tearing your eyes from the horizon, you turned to find someone tall and slim standing beside you. With lilac skin, long, silver-white hair, and elegantly-tapering ears, they might have been a tiefling, but you couldn’t see any horns, and something about the intensity of their ruby red eyes made you wonder.

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally.

Their gaze flickered to the pastries in your hand and their Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a smile that made your stomach flip over, revealing double canines, both top and bottom. “Khargrin makes the best almond croissants in the whole world,” they commented.

“Just needs one of Sophie’s coffees to go with, and I’m all set for my birthday breakfast,” you blurted unthinkingly.

At that, their eyebrows rose. “It’s your birthday? Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure how I feel about being another year older, but -” you shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Well, not to be inappropriate, but you look wonderful. May I get you that coffee?”

Were they flirting with you? You weren’t exactly known for being able to read people all that well. You blinked. “You don’t have to do that,” you said, stepping back. “I mean… you don’t even know me.” People in Starfall Springs were just like that, you knew from first hand experience already, but still, it was… unnerving for someone like you from the city.

That blinding smile never flickered, but they did shift a little. Oh. They had a tail. Perhaps they were a tiefling after all. They also had hooves, dark and shiny, visible beneath the wide cuff of their loose, black linen trousers. Looking a little more closely at them, now that you were no longer distracted by that gorgeous, heart-flutteringly beautiful smile, you realised that they wore a sleeveless vest, white, and that their chest was flat and their stomach obviously toned. Their arms too were slim but muscular, and they bore tattoos in geometric patterns from their fingertips right the way up their arms and neck to their earlobes. You swallowed. You’d never met someone so alluring in your whole life and your skin began to tingle.

At that moment, their pupils dilated visibly and they swallowed, long, tapering ears drooping a little. “Never mind,” they said. “I’m being overbearing. I’ll… leave you in peace. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Before you could call after them, or tell them they’d got the wrong idea, they turned around, their long white hair swinging in a thick plait right down their back to their tail, and hurried away. Halfway across the street, a swirl of dark, inky magic enveloped them, and they disappeared completely.

“What the…?” you hissed.

Even Sophie’s amazing coffee didn’t taste quite as good as it usually did, and for the rest of the day, as you picnicked with your friends on the sloping meadow above the Temple, lounging while music played through a little speaker and chocolate frosting melted in the sun, you kept recalling the way those garnet red eyes had turned from warm and playful to achingly sad.

“What’s up with you?” Mako asked, lolling over onto his back with his front paws bent, like a retriever begging for a belly rub.

Affectionately, you reached over and scratched his upper chest, which still made his hind leg kick. His powerful hyena jaws softened and he moaned. “Oh that’s so good,” he moaned. “You give the best scritches.”

“Hey!” came the disgruntled protests of his boyfriend from beside you. You didn’t stop, and he shook his head fondly. “Honestly, it’s probably true. Good job I can do other things to you, huh?”

Mako growled playfully, but left it at that. “What time shall we come by to pick you up for tonight?” he asked a while later, glancing up at you with his big, brown eyes.

You shrugged. “What time do we have to be there?”

“Nine?” he asked. “We could go for drinks somewhere else first? Or you could come to ours and we could have something to eat and drink there before? Up to you.”

With snacks and a few drinks in you, the three of you left Mako’s apartment that night and headed over to Midnight Aurora. You walked up a narrow, cobbled street to be met by Erin, Aemilius, and Florian - a satyr, vampire, and a cervitaur respectively - halfway down.

Aemilius heard your approach first, turning to face you to clap and cheer. “Happy Birthday!!” he practically sang at the top of his lungs, and you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

Together, the six of you headed up towards the top end of town, which looked magical that night, bathed in summer moonlight, with the bars and restaurants in the area now lively and bustling where they normally sat quietly during the day. Twinkling strings of fairy lights illuminated the way, and a shop sign swung in the slight breeze as you passed beneath it, showing a triple moon in glinting silver.

Midnight Aurora wasn’t as packed as you’d worried it would be, and honestly it was more of a theatre than a club, though beneath the stage was a dance space on the floor, currently full of tables. Tonight was obviously a more formal night. A bar filled the left hand side of the room, illuminated by LEDs beneath the counter in the shifting patterns and colours of the bar’s namesake, and a drow and a goblin worked seamlessly together to keep patrons happily topped up. Erin was apparently dating one of the bouncers, which was how you’d all been able to get tickets at short-ish notice. Normally they sold out weeks in advance.

Mako dug you in the ribs. “Not quite what you were expecting, huh?”

You had to admit that it wasn’t. It was classy but relaxed, buzzing but not overwhelming.

Currently onstage was a tall, powerful, muscular female orc and you tried not to look too hard at her, knowing that somehow Khargrin would know you’d been admiring his sister because… wow.

Swallowing, you looked away and croaked, “Drinks?”

“Thought you’d never suggest it,” Aemilius grinned. “First round is on me,” he said. “Take a seat and I’ll join you shortly.”

“Do we not get a say in what we have?” you laughed as Mako and his boyfriend steered you towards a table right in the middle of the floor while Aemilius strode away, lost in the low light and crush of people in seconds.

“Just let him have his way,” Erin said. “He probably knows what you want better than you do anyway.”

Deciding, not for the first time that night, just to go with it, you let the entertainment wash over you. It wasn’t all erotic dancing - there was a tap group that absolutely blew you away with their skill and synchrony, leaving you as breathless as had the bovitaur and his set of half-naked orcs that had preceded them.

“I think the variety is going to kill me,” you hissed at Mako and he snickered.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. They’re all really good, aren’t they?”

You had to nod. It wasn’t worth shouting over the appreciative audience’s wild applause. An octomer had just begun her set, involving a rope and a tank below, and you watched as she began and her coiling limbs hauled her effortlessly up out of the water by the rope.

Somewhere just shy of midnight, when the final act was announced, however, a strange and excited hush descended on the crowd, and you looked to Mako who just winked at you. “Wait for it,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

“O…kay?” you frowned warily.

The lights cut out without warning, and from the pitch black, two slender spotlights flashed on, illuminating a pair of dark hooves in the centre of the stage. The lights travelled slowly, teasingly, up over smooth purple skin, up a pair of slender, well-muscled legs, revealing a pair of glittering and very tiny silver hotpants, a lashing tail like a whip, a toned stomach with strangely familiar, geometric tattoos going up the dancer’s sides, over their ribs, and up their neck. A long, white ponytail dangled down the dancer’s back, and you gasped as red eyes blinked out at the crowd.

It couldn’t be? The meek and shy person you’d met earlier that morning was… here? Looking like that? They carried themselves with a quiet, contained dignity that drew you in and demanded your entire attention. Where this morning you’d found their bashful, flirtatious shyness alluring, now it was their stance that knocked you breathless as they stood with the self-assuredness of a tango dancer, waiting for the music to begin.

The music started with the slow pulse of a sleeping heartbeat, and they swayed their hips from side to side, eyes now closed. Even from that distance, you could see the way their eyelids had been kohled, adding further length and depth to their already almond shaped eyes, and a shimmering powder had been applied to their high cheekbones to heighten the sculptural quality that their face naturally possessed.

As if they had no idea they were dancing before a crowd, the strange, alluring dancer swayed, sinuous as a banner in the breeze, twisting and turning slowly, caught up in the low, hypnotic beat. You could barely breathe as you stared, transfixed. The energy in the room picked up, thrumming, and everyone seemed to be sitting there with their mouths open and their eyes half-lidded.

The difference between earlier on the seafront and now was almost unbelievable. Gods, they had the most incredible figure, and with the same shimmering powder accentuating every highlight on their bare chest and stomach, their dark purple skin gleamed in the lights.

When the beat changed, becoming faster and more energetic, they finally opened their eyes but their gaze locked above the crowd, as if they were still pretending not to have noticed you all staring in wonder at them. It didn't take an expert to see that they’d been classically trained at some point, and the graceful arrangement of their wrists and hands over their head made you think of meadow grasses blowing in the wind before the tension returned with a snap and they evoked the sheer commanding power of a paso doble dancer. They were mesmeric, and it was easy to see why they’d been placed last in the order for the evening.

Erin leaned over to whisper in your ear, “They’re an incubus…”

“Oh,” you breathed. And suddenly your reaction to them earlier made sense. Your stomach dropped unpleasantly. “Oh,” you said again. Had your reaction just been an accident then? As far as you knew, incubi and succubi could control the way their influence worked on people, but if they’d simply sparked that lust in you, did that make it real? You felt a little sick at that.

The longer you thought about it, the less the show held your attention. They were undeniably exquisite, and an extremely talented dancer, but it lost its magic for you the moment you realised that your reaction probably wasn’t real. The incubus was feeding off the lust in the room, the crowd’s desire for them, and the action of feeding created more lust.

As the dance seemed to be working towards its finale, you found you could bear it no longer. Abruptly, you stood and turned away, heading for the bathroom. You were the only person moving in the room besides the incubus on stage, and no one even noticed you leaving. Mako tried to grab your wrist as you left, but you were gone before he could follow or stop you.

At the door to the bathroom, you glanced back and found that the incubus was looking straight at you while dancing without breaking step. Even at this distance, they were truly stunning. You smiled sadly, and ducked out, remaining there until their set finished.

When you emerged, the theatre was buzzing. The chairs and tables had been cleared as if by magic, and the space had been opened up for the patrons to dance now. Mako and his boyfriend were quietly making out in one corner, though they were being relatively subtle for them, Erin was nowhere to be seen, and, as you looked around, you spotted Florian with two dancers and… was that… underwear dangling from one antler? Well, he was certainly entertained at any rate.

A movement to your right caught your eye, and you saw that Aemilius had found a partner to dance with, drawing the eyes of anyone nearby. With his sense of rhythm, he could probably have worked at Midnight Aurora himself.

“Flashy vampire,” you chuckled fondly as you watched the pair of them dance. The elf he’d found had glowing white skin, which complemented his own extremely dark skin beautifully, and you watched for a while before going over to the bar. Leaning against it, you waited alone for the glass of water you’d ordered to come your way.

To your surprise, when you turned around to pick it up, you found the incubus standing beside you. They were clothed now in a loose, white t-shirt that mostly hid the form of their beautiful body beneath, but anyone who had seen them dancing knew what lay under the shapeless top anyway. Their long legs were still on full display though, covered down to the mid thigh by the white t-shirt, and they wore a pair of platform heels that did obscene things to the muscles of their thighs and drew the attention of passers by.

“Hi,” you smiled, not wanting to be seen as prudish, especially after they’d witnessed your exit during their spectacular performance. “You dance beautifully…”

“Thanks,” they smiled. “Can I get you a drink since I didn’t manage to get you that coffee this morning?”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

Their smile broadened. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t get to give you your actual present.”

Something anxious twisted inside you. “My actual present?”

“Mmm,” the incubus hummed. “Your friends were hoping I’d give you a private show.”

“They were?” you asked, turning to find Erin graining at you from the other end of the bar. “They already paid you?”

You watched with sinking dread as they nodded. When they saw your evident lack of enthusiasm, however, they said, “I don’t have to though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” you said. “And I don’t doubt your… uh… talents… I just… I’d rather have something… real, you know?”

“It’s just a lap dance,” they said, prickling slightly.

“I know,” you hastened to reassure them in case they thought you were thinking of other things they could be doing to you which the club definitely wouldn’t allow. “I’m not suggesting otherwise. I just mean… this isn’t really my thing, you know?”

That sad expression you’d seen earlier crept back into their red eyes and they nodded. “Not everyone is comfortable with being around an incubus. I understand. Let me use the money to get you a drink, and you can give the rest back to your friends.”

The congealing atmosphere between you suddenly made you want to choke. As they turned away, you reached for them and grabbed their forearm. The tattoos on their arm flared white hot and you gasped, reeling backwards as a short but intense blast of energy sent you staggering backwards. You hit the bar and wheezed as the air was knocked from your chest.

“Fuck,” the incubus gasped, darting over. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

This was not going the way you hoped at all. “What was that? I didn’t mean… I wasn’t going to hurt you…”

“They’re protection runes,” the incubus explained, touching you carefully at the elbow to steady you and get you to raise your head a little. “They stop people grabbing me while I’m working…”

“That happens a lot?” you asked, flexing and making sure nothing was bruised. You were fine. Surprised and winded, but fine.

With a wry look, they admitted, “It’s an… occupational hazard.”

A few people were watching the exchange now, tossing you dirty looks, and you wanted nothing more than to leave the place altogether. “Look, I didn’t mean any harm. I was just trying to get your attention before you went.”

“Well it worked,” they grinned, and you found yourself laughing. They glowered over their shoulder, and the small audience bustled off elsewhere.

“Guess it did.”

“Should we start over?”

You looked at them and nodded. “Sure.”

“I’m Ferren,” they said, extending their hand to you. When you eyed it warily, they laughed. “It won’t hurt you.”

Taking it, you saw the black, geometric shapes pulse white for a moment and let the tingling rush of sensation sweep through you at the contact. Then rather hoarsely, you grunted your own name. Their fingers tightened around yours and then they withdrew. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I… I get the feeling like I’ve insulted you, but I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

“Honestly, I understand,” they said. “Some people like the rush that being around an incubus gives them, and for others it feels… unnatural. I’ll be careful with my ‘influence’ around you.”

“Is that what happened earlier today?” you asked as you let them steer you towards the quieter end of the bar.

They shrugged. “I don’t normally have to be so active about controlling it. Normally I actively have to concentrate to turn it on, as it were, you know? To affect people I really have to try.”

“But not with me?”

“Apparently not,” they chuckled ruefully. “Now, please, for the love of all the gods, will you let me get you a drink?”

You nodded.

What began with one drink on your birthday turned into an hour spent at the bar talking with Ferren about everything, from how they began at dance school, and would have gone into the ballet if they hadn’t suffered with a suspensory ligament injury at sixteen, to how they lived in a small, traditional caravan on the edge of Starfall Springs and loved sour apple sweets almost more than anything.

Drinks that night turned into coffee the next morning - despite the late hour at which you’d returned home - and coffee the next morning turned into a long walk along the seafront, lunch, and then takeaway supper, eaten on a bench overlooking the cliffs just outside the small town.

“Ferren,” you sighed, setting your small container down on the ground beside the bench.

“Mmm?”

“How… How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” they asked, “You mean ‘what geological forces created these cliffs?’ or ‘how does the tide go in and out?’ or —”

“— no,” you snorted and turned to face them. “How did I end up spending the entire day with you when it was only supposed to be coffee this morning? Is this that incubus charm of yours, or is it just… you?”

“It’s just me,” they said a little dazedly, staring into the depths of their own unfinished food box. “I promise I haven’t used even a scrap of my magic on you. I’ve been really careful.”

At that, you sat up and looked at them a little more closely. In the afternoon light, with the softly refracted light from the waves below casting a cool glow on their lilac face and dark red eyes, they looked like a sculpture or even a doll. Their skin was flawless, their lips full but without pout or pretence. They were just… themselves. Not a dancer, not even an incubus, just… Ferren. “You sound… You sound as if that’s not exactly common for you?”

They shrugged. “People expect us to be promiscuous. I’m used to one night stands and quick fumbles in out of the way corners. It’s been a long time since anyone’s just… listened to me like you have. I hope I haven’t bored you.”

“Bored me? Ferren, I’ve never had such a full day go by so quickly in my life! I still just thought that… maybe it wasn’t real somehow… that you’d just made me feel at ease around you…”

“So you’d fall into my arms and into my bed, you mean?” they asked with a bitterness that cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about your kind. I was wrong to assume…”

They shook their head and a few strands of their white hair wafted into their eyes. On a whim, you reached up and tucked them back behind the tapering line of their ear and they shuddered noticeably.

“Should I not have touched you again?” you asked, glancing at their tattoos which, mercifully, remained dull and dark.

“No,” they hissed, turning to face you fully. “Gods, no, I… I want your touch but… I don’t want to freak you out. I want it to be what you want…”

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Their red eyes widened and their lips parted. “Are you sure?”

You were. They were beautiful and gentle and sweet, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them. “Can you sense my energy?” you asked.

In return, you were met with a question of their own. “Are you asking me to use my magic on you?”

“If that means finding out how I feel, then yes.”

Raising their elegant, tattooed hand to your face, they traced the line of your eyebrow with the pad of their thumb, and then circled your temple. Their eyes glowed as if lit by the sunset from behind, and they opened their mouth, inhaling deeply. The light in their eyes flared bright and they gasped, letting go of you suddenly and smiling. Their hand hovered in the space between you like a butterfly caught in amber. That smile though, blinding as always, illuminated their whole face.

Their fingers then moved back and traced your jaw as they leaned in to kiss you, eyes locked on yours until you let them flutter shut against the rising tide of emotion inside you.

Ferren’s kiss began with breathtaking tenderness, but the moment you let slip a groan, it deepened and they let their tongue taste you. You were sure you tasted of the meal you’d just shared, but honestly, it didn’t matter. You reached for them and tugged them closer until they shifted and instead sat straddling you on the bench, their knees on the wood of the seat on either side of your thighs. Their hardness ground against you as they kissed you, and you gasped as they pushed you back against the bench.

The air shimmered around them like a dusty road in summer, and you stared in open wonder at them for a moment as they drew away and tipped their head back. Another shudder ran right through them and their tattoos began to glow again.

“Ferren?” you asked, cautiously trailing a fingertip over the white lines on their neck that had, only a moment before, been black.

“I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager,” they panted. “Your energy is incredible. I feel… I feel drunk…”

“You need to stop?”

“We probably shouldn’t do this out here on a public bench,” they laughed, their voice breathless and rasping.

“Your place or mine?” you asked.

“Mine’s small,” they said, letting their head roll forward again to let them look at you, “But it’s up to you. You really want to do this?”

“Can’t you tell by now?” you smiled. If this was all ‘you’, it felt fantastic.

Their answer was a smirk, but they clambered off you, hooves clopping on the stone path beneath the bench, and you saw the obvious tent in their trousers. They raised their eyebrows at you and the smirk became a broad, amused grin. “What a state you've left me in, eh? How are you with teleportation?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised by the conversational sidestep.

They held out their hand to you and that inky darkness began to swirl around them, beginning at their hand and working up their body.

“I have no idea,” you said taking the offered hand and standing. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all,” they smiled as they pulled you close to their chest. “Ready?”

“I have no idea,” you said, “But I trust you.” And you did. Despite having only met them the previous day, you absolutely did trust them, which was rare for you.

The darkness billowed up around you and obliterated your vision, but when it cleared, you were standing in the centre of a small, cosy, colourful waggon, with an arching, painted wooden roof to create a cylindrical space. At one end was a bed that took up the width of the tiny waggon, and it was towards that that Ferren led you, still holding your hand. The whole thing felt extremely personal and intimate in a way you’d not been expecting. This was their home, their sanctuary, and they were sharing it with you.

They lay you down on your back and you rested on your elbows as they undressed you slowly, reverently, revealing your body inch by inch. “You’re stunning,” they whispered once you were completely naked. And, under the vehemence of that ruby red gaze, you actually believed that they meant it. They didn’t waste any time in divesting themselves either, and when they stood before you, you gasped. You’d seen most of them already on stage only recently, but somehow this felt entirely different here. This was just for you.

“I won’t feed on your energy unless you tell me to,” they assured you as they pressed kiss after kiss up your inner thigh until you were gasping and bucking beneath them, begging with your whole body for them to touch you where you truly needed it. “Look at what a mess you’re making of yourself,” they crooned when they finally deigned to turn their attention to your arousal. And it was true.

“Please…” you hissed, head thrown back into the pillow behind you while they still only teased. “Gods, please!”

At the feel of their mouth on you, you bucked, but they held you steady with surprisingly strong hands, and you were nearly tumbling over the edge into orgasm in moments.

“I want… I want you to…” You tried to speak but your mind kept being wiped repeatedly blank by the waves of pleasure that their wicked tongue and devilishly hot mouth sent rolling through you.

Pausing, they hummed their question against you and you yelped a broken cry at the vibration of it, fingers scrunching their sheets to a tangle beneath you.

“I want to feel what it’s like,” you managed, speaking more deliberately this time and trying to focus. It didn’t really work because they started circling their tongue while they stared questioningly up at you with those red eyes. “Oh gods… What it’s like when you… I want you to…”

They licked a long, teasing stripe and you arched again and swore. “You want me to feed on you?” they purred. “Truly? You’ll make me come just from that you know? You’ll make me spill untouched. I can already tell.”

“I want you to come on me,” you said, trailing your fingers up your stomach for emphasis and Ferren inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until their irises were little more than a slim halo of ruby, glowing like hot embers.

Without a word, they moved so that they could keep pleasuring you with one hand while lying beside you. They kissed at your neck, raking their twin set of double canines over your skin, slowing the pace until it was too slow for you to come just yet, but more intense than you’d ever experienced in your entire life. You felt like you were going to tear apart at the seams and burst with want. “Ready?” they whispered in your ear and you shivered inarticulately.

Their tattoos pulsed white, then faded, then flared bright again. They opened their mouth and you stared, amazed, as a coiling, shimmering mist began to float towards them from you. At the same time, your body ignited from within and you yelled with pleasure. White hot and searing, the sensations came from everywhere, not just where they touched you, and you convulsed as your orgasm tore through you with a blinding intensity.

You didn’t even notice that Ferren had shifted and was now lying atop you, cock in hand. They spilled over you a second later, forehead coming down to rest on your collarbone as they emptied themselves all over your stomach and halfway up your chest. That strange energy still twisted between you as they jerked and twitched, finally lying still atop you.

“Gods,” they hissed, a good few minutes later. “Gods, I’ve never ever come like that…”

You shifted and grunted softly beneath them, and they slithered off you to lie on the narrow sliver of bed beside you.

“You alight?” you heard them whisper.

“Are you?”

With a little chuckle, they said, “Ask me again in about ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” you asked, feigning coy disappointment.

They shot you a sidelong look and laughed. “Alight, five. Tops.”

___

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aellynera · 4 years ago

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Accidental Anniversary (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

ACCIDENTAL ANNIVERSARY

💜💘 Happy Valentine’s Fic Exchange, @samrockweil 💘💜

I am your Valentine’s elf (or maybe cupid?) It was an absolute blast writing this for you!! At first I couldn’t decide which guy to write for, but Llewyn spoke to me and I ran with it and I hope you love it even half as half as much as I did writing it. Happy reading and happy beeps!

Also, huge thanks to @sergeantkane for putting this fic exchange together! Love you Clarke!

Word Count: around 8k oops look i had a whole MONTH okay i’m not sorry

Summary: You meet Llewyn Davis one night at the Gaslight, and soon find out that the universe has an odd sense of humor and an even weirder sense of timing.

Warnings: A few curses. Nothing else, it’s 99.999999999% fluffy fluff.

March 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a whiskey, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as your boss flips the power on.

You’ve been working there for a couple weeks, a side job to help make your rent and keep you busy on the weekends. It’s not a terrible gig, most of the time; the patrons are pleasant enough, the performers hit or miss, and Pappi, your boss, is okayish, so long as you can mostly steer clear of him.

You begin to wipe down part of the bar while the next performer sets up on the small, dingy stage. You haven’t seen him before, but whispers from the stools at the counter hint he’s semi-popular around these parts. You quirk an eyebrow; he certainly is easy on the eyes, at least.

From the minute he takes the stage, your focus is ninety percent on him (you do need a little brain power to do your job, after all) and you find that he is also very easy on the ears. Dark curls, dark beard, dark eyes, dark clothes, but a surprisingly bright voice singing lovely songs. He finishes his set, comes off the stage, and sidles up to the bar. You hand him the requested bourbon with a soft smile.

And the next thing you know, Pappi is on the ground and this stranger is holding his hand, wincing, flexing his fingers. Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “What--”

“Jesus Christ, Llewyn,” Pappi groans from the floor. “I was only kidding.”

“Yeah, doubt that,” this Llewyn person mutters under his breath, taking a seat on the stool closest to him. “Can I bother you for some ice?”

You keep a wary eye on him, and on Pappi as he gets up and wanders to the other side of the room like nothing happened, and wrap some ice cubes in a towel and hand it to him. “You decked him.”

He scoffs and takes a sip of his drink. “You hear what he said about you?”

Well, no, you hadn’t actually, but having heard what Pappi has said about others in the club over the past two weeks, you can imagine. “I can handle him,” you say archly.

“I’m sure you can,” a huff of air escapes his lips, “but you shouldn’t have to.” He turns around to look at Pappi, who just glares and shakes his head. The man in front of you flips your boss off.

You refill his glass without him asking and stick out your hand, telling him your name.

He shakes it and says, “Llewyn Davis” with a sheepish smile.

April 14

Llewyn shuffles down the sidewalk towards the Gaslight, really only noticing the early spring chill that hangs in the air. It’s early, before noon, but he wants to run through his set before the night’s performance and the early hour is convenient for him to be able to do so in peace.

He’s about a block away when a sound distracts him. A voice is singing, pure and sweet - if a tiny bit off-key - and if he didn’t know any better - and he certainly does, at least most times - he would call it angelic. No, not angelic. An actual angel. That’s what it sounds like.

Llewyn stops and looks up at an open window on the third floor. He can make out the vague outline of a figure inside, but he’s unable to see any details. But that voice. A few minutes pass as he just listens, staring up at the window, thinking about calling up to get the attention of the mysterious singer. But he doesn’t, and he just stands and listens, until he finds his feet starting to carry him on to his usual destination.

Three steps into his walk, he realizes he knows the song. It’s one of his songs. Part of him can’t believe it, and the rest of him wants to offer pitch correction. Three more steps into his walk, and his face makes very solid, very resounding contact with the light pole on the corner.

“God dammit,” he shouts.

A few seconds later, the window on the third floor slides open and a head pokes out. “Oh my god. Llewyn?”

Llewyn looks up and groans inwardly as he recognizes your face from that last gig at the Gaslight. “Hey,” he waves awkwardly, leaning on the pole.

“Are you bleeding?” you call down to him.

He reaches up near his eyebrow and realizes he is, in fact, bleeding. Quite a bit, honestly. Before he can answer, you call back down, “Come up the fire escape to the side window!” The window drops shut and he can hear another slide open.

So Llewyn Davis climbs the fire escape steps and meets you at your side window, a first aid kit in your hands as you motion for him to sit. He does and you start to patch up his wound.

“You should be more careful,” you mutter as you worked, stopping briefly to look him right in the eyes.

He holds your gaze. “Sorry, I was...distracted.”

“Mmm,” you return. You fold a gauze pad and hand it to him. “Hold this on that cut. I’m going to get you some ice.” You turn to walk to your kitchen.

He mumbles his thanks and leans his head back against the fire escape railing.

May 14

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and although Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, he takes up a spot at the end of the bar and thanks you as you pass him a drink.

“How have you been?” you ask. You’d seen him a few times over the past couple weeks, here and there in the Village, but it’s been several days. You found Llewyn’s company quite enjoyable. You’d talked a bit and even shared lunch once at the diner a couple blocks away.

His lips turn up, a shy smile lighting his face. He opens his mouth to respond, when another voice breaks in.

“He’s been an asshole.”

Llewyn’s head ships around and you follow his gaze. A slender woman with long, straight brown hair and piercing eyes stands about ten feet behind him, arms crossed and glaring. Neither of them says anything for a beat, Llewyn turns away from her, and then she’s on him, daggers flying from her lips, going on and on about assholes and responsibility and electrical tape.

Llewyn keeps his eyes down, the bottom of his glass suddenly staring back at him. “Jesus Christ, Jean.”

You bite your lip as you glance between them. You have no idea who this woman - this Jean - is, but it’s clear she is not a fan of Llewyn Davis. In three seconds flat you decide you do not like her either.

“Is there something you needed?” you break in.

Her eyes flare at Llewyn, then at you, then bore into the back of Llewyn’s head. You resist the urge to literally toss a glass of whiskey in her direction.

“I need Llewyn to stop being an asshole,” she seethes. Llewyn rolls his eyes.

You arch an eyebrow and the words are on your tongue - I need you to back off, you crazy weird bit-- you bite your tongue just hard enough to make your mouth behave. Fortunately, she’s distracted by someone else calling her name and her attention drifts to the stage. With a final mutter of “asshole” and a rude hand gesture, she flounces off.

You point over Llewyn’s shoulder. “Um, what was that?”

He snorts. “A night of bad decisions and a lifetime of regret.” A pause. “It’s...a long story.”

You watch as she adjusts the microphone center stage. “Good lord, is she a singer? Tell me she’s not going to just smile and sing after...whatever that was.”

“Yeah. Well,” he offers by way of explanation and doesn’t say anything else. It’s almost like this woman sucked all the fight out of him and you feel your heart give a little twinge.

You toss the rag in the sink and take his glass. “Do you wanna get out of here?” The air around you has a weird vibe now, and you felt a sudden impulse to get out and take this man - your friend - with you, away from this...whatever she was, somewhere safe.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, a grateful glimmer passing through his dark eyes.

“There’s a great cafe down the block.”

“But don’t you have to...you know...work?”

You look around and shrug. “It’s dead in here, and Bobby can handle it,” you hook your thumb at a co-worker behind the bar. “And if Pappi says anything, I know someone who can set him straight.”

Llewyn’s eyes glint and his lips turn up in a real, honest smile this time. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee.”

June 14

The summer - or very last days of spring, technically - is starting to get hot and your open windows are doing the bare minimum to alleviate the warmth. Of course, the third glass of wine you’re drinking probably isn’t helping things either.

Whatever. It’s your day off.

Shoes kicked off, jeans rolled up above your ankles, feet up on the arm of the couch, a record on the turntable and your glass of red as the dusk slowly melts into dark. The night is tranquil and relaxing and perfect. It has been a shitty week, and all you want is to ignore the outside world and do exactly this.

The shrill ring of your phone bursts that bubble..

You close your eyes and tilt your head back on the couch. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away. The phone stops ringing. Deciding to take no further chances, you switch off the ringer, completely, then sigh happily, settling yourself on the couch and sipping your wine.

Perfect.

A resounding, repeated thump echoes through the room. You bit back a shriek. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away - lightning can strike twice, right? It was extremely rude of people to just call you and knock when all you wanted was--

“Hey, are you home?” a muffled voice comes from the other side of the door.

Suddenly alert and somehow much less annoyed, you spring up and cross to your front door. Yanking it open, you find a very disheveled Llewyn Davis on the other side. He doesn’t seem to notice right away that the door was now open, and you had to jump back as his hand, raised to pound on the door again, almost knocks you in the head instead.

You take a deep breath. You catch a waft like the mat under the taps after a long night at the bar.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” You take him by the arm and drag him inside, appraising him quickly. His eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, his curls an absolute mess, and there’s a dark mark under his left eye and a split in his lip. He looks terrible, smells just as bad, but suddenly all your desire for a quiet, no-other-humans night evaporates. “And did you get in a fight?”

“...yes?”

You sigh and point to the couch. “Go. Sit. I’ll make some coffee, and then you’re getting a shower..”

“You’re incredible,” he slurs, smiling, “And you’re so…I tried t’call you, from th’phone on the corner but you dinnt answer. An’ then I realized, hey, I’m on your corner, so decided t’come up and see you. You’re pretty.”

You take him by the elbow and lead him to the couch, only stumbling twice and managing to catch him as he sways, precariously, once. “Uh huh,” you bite your lip to hide a smile. “Sounds like you’ve had a fun night. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” He flops down on the couch and buries his face in a pillow.

By the time you make the promised pot of coffee and get back to the living room, Llewyn is snoring, still face down in the throw pillow. Turning off the music and the lights, you cover him with a blanket and take your glass of wine to your room.

July 14

Ring, ring, ring.

You’d remembered to turn the ringer back on three days after Llewyn slept it off on your couch, but your phone hadn’t actually rung again until just over half an hour ago, and honestly you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or if it was just sad.

You are sure, however, that the sheer desperation in the voice on the other end when you answered is the reason you’re on this train to Queens. Are you doing anything, Llewyn had asked, because I could really, really use some help right now. Please, I’m begging you. And now the echo of your phone ringing just, well, rings in your ears.

The train screeches to a halt and you exit, making your way to the given address. You knock on the door of a smallish, nondescript row house and it swings open almost immediately, revealing a very disheveled, slightly panicked looking Llewyn.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes and grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

“Llewyn? What is going on?”

“It’s a disaster,” he says. He’s completely serious.

You’re preparing yourself for blood, broken bones, water damage, collapsed ceilings, possible dismemberment, anything, really, that could explain your friend’s current frazzled condition. What you get is completely, unexpectedly, not anything like that.

There are about ten kids, all around ten years old, running around in the living room, which is also full of balloons and streamers. One giant pinata, shaped like a baseball glove and bat, hangs from the light fixture. To Llewyn’s credit, it is kind of...chaotic, but it’s far from a disaster and you can barely contain the guffaw that escapes your lungs.

“Whose birthday?” you grin at him.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

You consider this and try to straighten your lips. Nope, not working. “It’s a little funny.”

Llewyn smacks you lightly on the shoulder. “It’s my nephew’s birthday, and my sister forgot some party thing and made a run to the store. I was stayin’ here last night and she just decided, oh, Llewyn can watch the kids, and she was gone.”

“So what’s the problem, exactly?”

“She should be back by now,” his eyes look slightly panicked.

“Maybe she had to go to a couple stores? Maybe she just got delayed by transit?”

“I can’t do…” Llewyn gestures around weakly, shaking his head. “This.”

“Llewyn, they’re kids. They can’t be more than what, ten years old? Just blindfold them and let them whack at the pinata.”

“You’re the people person. I can’t...can you help me, please,” he turns to look at you. Directly at you. You’re fairly certain his eyes cannot get any bigger or shine more pleadingly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s go wrangle some kids.”

The panic slides from his face and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder and kisses the top of your head in his thanks.

And when one kid takes a wild swing at that tacky papier-mache sports equipment, misses completely, and lands a clean hit on Llewyn’s thigh, neither of you talk about it.

You just get him an ice pack.

August 14

“I’m making lasagna. Come over for dinner.”

You worked early that day, and said this to Llewyn as you left the Gaslight for the day. He isn’t playing tonight, and he’s really just here to stay out of the sun, and as much as he doesn’t like to push his luck with others’ hospitality, he has to admit that a home-cooked meal does sound incredible.

He has a feeling your invitation was partly due to Jean showing up, ready to do unnecessary verbal battle because she just can’t let it go, and you’d asked to both deflect her and keep yourself from actual physical battle. But whatever.

So he finds himself at your front door a couple hours later, a bottle of cheapish red wine in hand and an odd tingle in his chest. He dismisses it offhand; he’s probably just hungry.

You open the door and Llewyn’s nose is assaulted by the smell of homemade sauce - he’s half Italian, he knows these things - and cheese and garlic. You smile brightly at him. Yeah, he’s definitely hungry.

“Hey! Come in, it’s almost ready.”

He hands you the bottle. “Brought wine.”

“Excellent,” you lead him to the kitchen table and motion to a seat. He settles himself into it and grabs a piece of bread from the basket on the table as you grab two wine glasses.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks around a mouthful of carbs.

The timer dings and you pull the lasagna out of the oven. “No occasion. I just felt like making this and I didn’t really want to eat alone.”

“Lucky for you I like to eat,” he chuckles.

Your face suddenly feels warmer. Well, you did just pull a piping hot casserole dish out of the oven, so that does make sense, you suppose. You turn and put the lasagna on the trivet in the middle of the table, then turn and grab two regular glasses for water. There is an outlandish, metallic ka-chunk-ing noise as you turn on the tap, and suddenly water is shooting from under the sink and halfway across the room.

Llewyn jumps up and dives at the faucet, a chunk of bread clutched between his teeth, at the same time you crawl halfway under the sink to try and shut the water off. The stream blasts you in the face and you sputter.

This is not how you imagined tonight. Blasted ancient, rickety building. You make a mental note to have words with the super tomorrow.

You finally get the water shut off, and Llewyn closes the tap and sinks down onto the wet floor next to you. You lean against the cabinets and try to wipe the water out of your eyes.

Llewyn fares a little better; he’s only wet from his waist down. Your head thumps back on the soaked particle board behind you and you turn your head towards him. For a long moment he looks back at you, then rips the butt off the hunk of baguette in his mouth and passes it to you.

You snort. He bites his lip.

“Sorry, I think dinner might be a bit late,” you deadpan, eyes still on him, and take a bite of bread.

He bumps your shoulder with his. “It’s okay. Lasagna is always better the next day.”

Llewyn has to admit, though, it’s still pretty good a couple hours later, after you’re both dry and the lake in the kitchen is mopped up and you settle on the couch with your plates.

And if you use the water glasses for the wine, well, neither of you mentions it.

September 14

It’s pleasantly warm today, the heat of late August dragging itself into the beginning of September, and you find yourself in Washington Square Park, on a checkered blanket, a basket in the middle and a guitar by your feet. Pigeons wander and plot to steal food, but it’s easy enough to shoo them away.

It takes a little convincing, early that morning, to get Llewyn to agree to join you. It didn’t, really; he’s quickly become one of your best friends, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to be, he just likes to tease you.

But he does accept, and you eat some of the bread and cheese you packed and drink the iced tea you brought, and you get out a container of fruit salad and package of cookies your down-the-hall neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, made for you that morning.

“For you and your lovely man,” she’d said as she knocked on your door. You feel the warmth in the tips of your ears and you certainly see the color rise in Llewyn’s embarrassed face, but you don’t have the heart to correct her. She’s such a sweet old lady.

Llewyn plays a song or two while you enjoy your lunch, and even asks if you want to hear a new song he’s been working on, which you are more than happy to agree to.

It’s such a pleasant afternoon.

Until a small, brownish-gray blur jumps onto the blanket and grabs a chunk of bread and darts further onto the lawn.

“What the hell!’ Llewyn shouts as you yelp in surprise. The squirrel, for its part, just stops fifty feet away and turns back with a triumphant gaze, then scoots off into the bushes, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in its wake.

He starts to make a comment about the nerve of the wildlife, but you’re not really listening. Your eyes are fixed on the path the squirrel just ran and you tug on Llewyn’s sleeve. He keeps muttering and you tug harder.

“Llewyn.”

He finally looks up and follows your finger. There’s a flock - an honest-to-god flock, not that he has any real idea on the technical makeup of a flock, but there’s more than one so as far as he’s concerned, yeah, it’s a flock - of geese marching directly at the blanket.

Okay, so there’s only three of them. But they look angry.

The leader strides forward deliberately and bites at Llewyn’s shoe. Another yelp leaves your lips and he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet. He also grabs the remainder of the bread and tosses it in the opposite direction as he takes off running towards the fountain, dragging you behind him.

“Where are we going?” you shout.

“No idea,” he replies. The leader falls for the bread feint, but his loyal minions do not, and they follow behind you, quacking and honking and flapping and Llewyn isn’t sure but he may dislike geese even more than he dislikes pigeons.

He jumps up on the edge of the fountain and pulls you into a protective embrace as the beasts close in. Only Llewyn doesn’t account for, you know, physics, and the force of your bodies colliding sends you both straight into the water.

Spluttering, you try to wipe the water out of your eyes. Llewyn is doing the same when a loud HONK startles you both. The leader is back, flanked by his friends, and they’re all staring at you.

“Um, Llewyn?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“...don’t geese like, love the water?”

His eyes flick to you, then the winged monsters, then you again, then the fountain like he’s seeing it for the first time and all he can do is mutter, “Shit!” and grab your hand as he pulls you to your feet and takes off running again.

You manage to swing by and gather the leavings of your picnic, blanket and basket tucked under your arms and his precious guitar clutched to him, as you beeline out of the park, soaking wet and laughing.

October 14

Llewyn slides the key into the lock and turns it, an odd flutter rolling up his spine as he hears the bolt click open. He’s had a key to your apartment for almost two months now. You gave it to him, insisted really, telling him this way he wouldn’t need to worry about finding somewhere to crash. That your couch is always open.

It still doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t always use it, but tonight he really, really doesn’t feel like making the rounds. You’ve been spending more time together recently anyway, and he feels mostly comfortable around you.

He’s greeted by the sight of you wearing a catcher’s mask and knee high rubber boots, and you’re wielding a tennis racquet. He doesn’t know what to say for a full minute.

“What are you...why are you wearing...what the hell.”

“There’s a bat,” is your whispered response.

Llewyn’s nose scrunches and he isn’t any less confused than he was a second ago. “What?”

“There’s a bat,’ you repeat. Your voice is slightly on the edge of hysteria because, well, “there is a bat. In the bathroom.”

“...okay?”

You jab your finger at the closed door. “I was just going to wash my face and brush my teeth and I went in there and it was just...in the corner, by the shelves. It was staring at me.”

He bites his lip, trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging on his face. It isn’t working. He drops to a whisper himself and asks, “Baby, why are you whispering?”

Your head jerks towards the bathroom, and your shrug nearly sends the tennis racquet into his shoulder. “Because that’s how they...they’re...how they do the...the bat hearing thing!”

Llewyn laughs fully. He can’t help it; you’re ridiculous and his face heats a bit as he realizes it’s entirely endearing. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says, his voice sliding back to a whisper. He avoids your death glare as he makes his way to the bathroom door. “But sit tight, slugger, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Hand on the doorknob, he pauses and considers this. “Just gonna encourage it to go home? I dunno.”

Your grip tightens on the racquet. “How will that work?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a fucking bat!” he hisses at you. “Just, make sure a window is open.” He opens the bathroom door.

Several things happen at once. Llewyn doesn’t so much open the door as he flings it wide and it slams into the wall. The bat makes a squeaky-shrieky noise (you were entirely unaware, until now, that they could even do that) and swoops out, recklessly streaking through Llewyn’s mess of curls. You make an actual shriek and fling the side window open as wide as possible. Llewyn makes a sound he can’t describe and you’re honestly not sure if it was Llewyn or the bat. The bat decides to take a few laps around the living room and you duck under the window sill just before it mercifully decides that outside is the place to be. Llewyn slams the window shut and you spring back to your feet, crash into his chest and his arms wrap around you.

Neither of you say anything, and Llewyn isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s very aware of your hand running through his hair, and your soft words catching as you say you’re just trying to smooth out the bat damage.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, I’ll keep watch out here, make sure that thing doesn’t come back,” he jokes. “You okay?”

You finally - finally, he cheers internally - take off the catcher’s mask and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m...good. Thanks for...thanks.”

Llewyn lets you go and takes the tennis racquet out of your hands, placing it next to the couch. He throws you a soft smile. “Just in case.”

November 14

It’s been a long night at work, a lot longer than it has any right to be and infinitely insufferable. The Gaslight is packed, patrons nearly crawling the walls and not an empty seat to be found. Drink orders stack up and you try to keep up. It’s so crazy that even Pappi doesn’t have a chance to be a smartass like usual.

Apparently it always gets like this, closer to a holiday.

Note to self - skip holidays.

There are two acts tonight. Llewyn is first, and it’s clear much of the crowd is here to catch him. It cheers you slightly, and it would certainly cheer you more if you had the time to pay more attention to him, but the constant call for whiskey and gin takes most of your focus. But for the time he’s on stage, your heart feels lighter.

Then the second act takes the stage, and Jean launches eye missiles at Llewyn from behind the microphone, and your mood sours instantly.

Yeah, it’s a very long night.

Everything is blurry for the rest of the evening, until last call mercifully rolls around and you can finally get to straightening out the mess the bar has become. You notice Llewyn still sitting on his usual stool at the end of the counter, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Don’t even say it,” you point at him sternly. “When will you stop fussing about this?” Ridiculous man. He has a key to your apartment, and still he worries that he’s an inconvenience.

You toss an orange slice at him, and he allows you a sweet grin.

Finally - finally - you’re home and Llewyn follows you inside, locking the door behind you. He heads for the couch and you head for your room, a mumbled g’night the only word that passes between you. You’re far too exhausted to deal with anything higher level.

It could be minutes or it could be hours later - your alarm clock somehow ended up on the floor and the darkish sky outside giving nothing away, and when did it start raining anyway - when a loud SPRONG and then a yelp and a THUMP from the living room jolts you awake.

It takes a few seconds to regain your senses. “Llewyn?”

“Fuck.”

You stumble out to the living room to find him half-sitting, half-sprawled on the floor, the quilt he normally uses tangled around his knees and ankles. He rubs a spot on his lower back and winces.

“Llewyn! What happened?” you cry.

He points to the middle cushion and you see something sticking up from the padding.

“Oh, Llewyn, jesus. I’m so sorry,” you apologize. You really do feel terrible; your couch hasn’t been in the best shape for ages, and it looks like the squeaky spring you noticed a few weeks ago finally gave up and poked it way through. And stabbed Llewyn in the back as he slept. Damn it.

“It’s...it’s fine,” he tells you, still wincing. “I can turn the other way, or sleep on the floor. Not a big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes big deal. My couch just stabbed you, and it’s cold outside, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“S’fine. Not the first time I ended up on the floor.”

You make up your mind before you even think about it and reach your hand out to him. “Come on,” you wiggle your fingers. “Come to bed.”

Llewyn’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to protest, but your look is so firm that he relents with a soft sigh and extricates himself from the blanket. He follows you to the bedroom and asks, no less than seven times, if you’re sure this is okay and says he really has no problem sleeping on the floor. You eventually tell him to shut the hell up and get under the covers.

You both lay on your sides, facing each other, but keep a space between you. Llewyn still looks mildly uneasy but relaxes as you smile at him and the warmth of your duvet and the softness of your pillows pull him under.

“Good night again, Llewyn,” you whisper.

“Good night again,” he replies with a soft yawn.

The rain steadily patters on your window and the sky slowly lightens as morning breaks and you languidly wake, curled into Llewyn’s chest, his arms secure around you.

December 14

Snow falls lightly outside, coats the grass and sticks to Llewyn’s curls, and his breath swirls and makes curlicues in the chill winter air. It’s two weeks until Christmas, and you decide to put up a tree, a real tree, and you tell him he’s going to help decorate it.

You also tell him that a bunch of your light strings have stopped working, and before you can ask him to run to the shop down the block that sells replacements, he volunteers and is out the door.

He can’t remember the last time he was anywhere with a real tree. It was usually those cheap-looking fake ones, the green plastic branches a color that would never exist naturally, if there were any tree at all.

So yeah, maybe he’s a little excited. He comes up the steps to the apartment, a bag perched in the crook of his elbow as he unlocks the door.

“So I got the lights, like you asked,” he says cheerfully, and sets the bag down on the table by the door.

“Help.” That’s...not the response he’s expecting.

It’s two weeks since the entire living room has been rearranged. The new, non-back-stabbing couch is on the opposite wall. You rearranged all your shelves, got a new armchair, and much to Llewyn’s wary delight and bewilderment, a new side table. The side table has blank sheet music and pens and there’s a guitar stand next to it and he doesn’t really know what to make of it. You just smile and tell him he needs a space to be himself, whatever that means.

The newly-opened space under the window is where the tree is going. Or, should be going. Llewyn looks down at the toppled fir and sees a foot sticking out near the trunk.

“Sweetheart? What happened?”

Your voice answers from beneath the branches. “Can you just help get this off me, please?”

Llewyn rights the tree and turns his head to check on you. He’s more concerned about you than the tree, of course, but he wants to make sure it doesn’t take you out again so he secures it to the stand as he takes you in. Thankfully you look fine, a few needles stuck to your sweater and a tiny scratch on your cheek, but otherwise…

He tries to stifle a laugh. “You’re looking very festive.”

Your eyes narrow. “Go ahead and ask,” you bite out, “because I know you’re going to ask.”

“I already did ask, before I had to be your lumberjack.”

You refrain from telling him that lumberjacks fell trees, not upright them. Whatever. You motion your head to the shiny silver tinsel wrapped around your torso. You can’t use your hands, really, and you’re not sure how they got tied up in this mess, exactly, but here you are, sitting on your living room floor in a pile of pine needles, trussed like a Christmas goose in sparking silver twine.

And your best friend is laughing at you. Jerk.

“I was trying to get this around the top part, and I lost my balance. Then like an idiot I tried to catch myself on the tree, and the whole damn thing went down with me,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how the rest of this tangled mess happened.”

He does laugh now, full and rich. “I was only gone for like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, can you maybe...untie me?”

“Oh! Wait, here, I got something else,” Llewyn jumps to his feet. He ignores your request and pokes around in the shopping bag.

“If it’s not chocolate, I don’t want to hear about it,” your grumbled response brings another laugh.

Llewyn’s back in front of you seconds later, holding a small white cluster above your head. The grin on his face is equally charming and infuriating.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you blink at him.

“I mean, I was just gonna, y’know, hang it above the door later and let it happen, but now seems like a better time for some Christmas cheer.”

“I think you’re pretty satisfyingly cheerful right now, idiot.”

He waves the mistletoe over your heads. “Come on. It’s tradition.”

One day, maybe you’ll be able to stop sighing in his presence, but today is not that day. You sigh again, roll your eyes, and lean in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and delighting in the shade of crimson he turns in response. He clears his throat and places the mistletoe to the side.

“Now will you untie me?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

He does, and helps you get the tinsel where it’s supposed to go and you spend the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and drinking hot cider.

Llewyn sings you more than one Christmas song to make up for all the teasing.

January 14

It seems like a good idea at the time. One of your friends at your actual day-to-day job offers to set you up with another coworker, and it’s been ages since you went on a date and you figure, why not? What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out the answer is, a lot. A lot can go wrong. So much that you don’t even want to think about it.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. There is no chemistry, no spark, just an hours-long recitation of how your date is god’s gift to pretty much everything under the sun and possibly also the moon. The name-drops are just the cherry on top.

Maybe your first impression isn’t wrong after all.

You trudge up to your apartment, the bag of your favorite takeout under your arm filled to nearly bursting, and get the door open. All you want to do is stuff your face and maybe take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine. Yes, that sounds perfect.

The melody of a strumming guitar stops as you place the bag on the side table and shimmy out of your coat. The lamp in the corner is the only illumination and you tilt your head towards the armchair’s occupant. You’re surprised that he’s there, but only because he was supposed to be somewhere else tonight. Knowing he wouldn’t be around was at least...half the reason you agreed to this stupid date in the first place.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?” Llewyn asks in a low voice through the dim light.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing at the Gaslight tonight?” you retort, brow raised.

He shrugs. “Might have had a few too many an’ said some things. Might’ve gotten thrown out.”

“Mmm,” you appraise him. He just looks the same way you feel; ridiculously tired. Exhausted. “Might’ve told my date I had to use the restroom but… maybe didn’t mention I meant the one at my house.”

“That bad?” Despite his snort, Llewyn sounds genuinely curious.

You sigh as you flop down on the couch and hold up the takeout bag. “I’d rather not talk about it. You wanna help me eat this?”

In an instant he’s on the couch next to you and you hand him some plastic utensils and a napkin. You get up and grab two beers. For a while you just focus on eating, passing containers back and forth with occasional comments about the food. Your knees bump sometimes as you each reach for different containers or your drinks.

“So what happened?”

You stab a piece of chicken a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. It was a stupid idea to go on a blind date.”

“Kind of a stupid idea to go on a date at all,” Llewyn replies softly.

“What.” It’s not really a question. You definitely don’t mean it as a question and you vaguely think about throwing an egg roll at him but that would be an honest waste of decent takeout.

“I know what the problem is,” he continues in a normal voice. “It’s the fourteenth.”

You look at him with a raised brow. He has an odd look on his face and you wait a beat before asking, “Okay? And?”

Llewyn also waits a beat before replying and points at you with his fork, a green bean stabbed on the end. You lean forward and pluck it off with your teeth. He needs a moment to clear his throat before he can go on. “It’s the fourteenth,” he repeats. “Don’t know if you noticed, but...well..weird things seem to keep happening. On the fourteenth. Of every month.”

“Huh.” He’s right, now that you think about it. You stab your food again. “What do you think that means?”

Llewyn looks like he wants to say something, like he’s going to say something, but instead he just shrugs. You put the container down and lean back on the couch, swinging your feet into Llewyn’s lap.

He idly strokes your ankles as his expression grows serious. “I think it means we should not go out on any fourteenths, ever. Just to be safe.”

You poke him with your big toe. “You’re an idiot. There are things that can happen inside. There are things that have happened inside.”

A smirk creeps through his beard. “Shit, you’re right. One-a your crappy novels might fall off the shelf and crack me on the skull.” He pauses. “More run-ins with wildlife? Oh! I know. Squirrels, but this time, in the walls.”

“That’s not funny!” you try to poke him again and dissolve into giggles as he tickles your foot. Your combined laughter ricochets off the living room walls before dissipating back into silence.

This time, you’re clearing your throat before being able to continue. “It’s been a day. I’m gonna go take a hot bath.” You get up and walk down the hall to the bathroom.

“Please don’t fall asleep in the tub!” he calls after you. “Don’t forget what day it is.”

Idiot.

After your bath, you head to the bedroom and find Llewyn passed out on top of the covers. He has a key, and he stays over far more often than not nowadays, and even though he’s been told numerous times since the broken couch that it’s okay if he’d rather sleep in a bed, you don’t mind sharing, he rarely takes you up on that offer. Okay, so this is the first time since the broken couch that he’s even sort of taken up the offer.

It’s been a weird day.

You grab a quilt and curl up on the other side of the bed, pulling it over both of you and snuggling down into your pillow.

“I wonder what happens on the next fourteenth,” you yawn mutter into the darkness of the room.

You’re asleep, so you can’t notice that Llewyn isn’t, really, and he rolls to face away from you and whispers, “Yeah, me too.”

February 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a straight bourbon, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as Pappi flips the power on.

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, and he hasn’t shown up yet, which is strange.

Another thing that’s strange? This weird feeling of déjà vu. Whatever, you’ve been working more nights at the club recently, and they’re all starting to blend together.

“Your friend’s out back,” Pappi’s voice breaks into your thoughts as he sidles up to the bar and leans back on it.

“My friend?” you ask, confused.

Pappi shrugs. “Said he was a friend of yours. Dark curly hair, worn corduroy jacket, always looks tired or pissed off or both.”

Your expression doesn’t change. “Wait, why is...did he get the crap kicked out of him again?”

“Nah,” Pappi shakes his head. “At least, maybe not yet. Anyway, I dunno, he just asked me to tell you he was outside. I don’t know what the hell he’s up to.” He nods his head towards the back exit and turns to tend to the bar.

Strange.

You duck your head out the door and glance up and down the alley. You see nothing except the usual debris; trash containers, the dumpster, the rusty drain pipes that run down from the gutters, weathered fire escapes. Something skitters off at the far end and disappears between the buildings. Was that a raccoon?

You snort a laugh as you recall Llewyn’s jab about wildlife run-ins. It would be something that happens, in a dark alley behind a basket house in Greenwich Village on the fourteenth of…

Oh. It is the fourteenth.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from the head of the alley.

Llewyn stands there, leaning against the brick, dark curls and worn corduroy and all. He holds a single yellow rose in his hands. He looks incredibly nervous, enough to match you looking incredibly confused.

You step fully outside and the door clicks shut behind you. “Hi?”

“Uhm, this is for you,” he says, awkwardly holding the rose out. “Saw a guy selling ‘em a few blocks down, thought you might like it.”

“Thank you? But what’s the occasion?” Why is everything coming out as a question? Even that.

He bites his lip. “You don’t know what today is?”

“Yeah, it’s the four---” Oh. Oh.

“You wanna get out of here? Have dinner with me, maybe?” Llewyn rubs the back of his neck. It’s a nervous habit you’ve seen him done countless times, usually when he’s thinking about something serious and… Oh.

You twirl the rose in your fingertips and don’t quite meet his eyes. “I thought you said maybe we shouldn’t go out any fourteenths.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well. Um, I don’t know if you also noticed, along with this whole fourteenth business, but I...I really like spending time with you, just hanging out with you, and...I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid, but I thought maybe we could, y’know, have a non-weird fourteenth day of the month for a change.”

He’s rambling and it’s adorable. You hum softly. “...on Valentine’s Day.”

Llewyn’s hands twitch in his pockets. “Well...yeah. I mean, I like spending time with you, but...I also like you. So why not?”

He has a point. And really, now that one of you has said it out loud, you really can’t deny it. All the time spent together, all the shared meals and drinks and late-night talks on the couch and letting him basically move into your apartment...it’s no secret, you realize, it never really was, how close you’ve become over the past many months. How easy it is with him. How natural it is.

All the times he helped you. All the times you helped him. All the times you were together, just being.

The fourteenth of the month be damned.

You pretend to think about it for a little longer than necessary as Llewyn watches you anxiously. “Well, I do have to work, you know.”

“I already asked your boss,” he shakes his head, “and he was more than willing to agree. Something about not getting a black eye on your behalf tonight.”

Your laugh rings out into the street. “But it is the fourteenth. What if one of us gets food poisoning or chokes on dessert or something?”

“Vomit doesn’t bother me and I know the Heimlich,” he smirks. “And I’m already asking you out in a dark alley in the Village, how much weirder can it get?”

“You make a fair point, Llewyn Davis.”

He extends an elbow and a hopeful smile.

If he notices, as he brushes his lips on your knuckles as you take his offered arm, that your breath catches and your heart rate increases, he doesn’t let on.

But later that night, as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck and asks you what you want to do on the next fourteenth, well, Llewyn Davis definitely notices then.

~end~

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #valentine's fic exchange #oscar fandom fic exchange #samrockweil

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seungmoroll · 4 years ago

Text

Electric Love - Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 2.4k

Genre: fluff

A/N: This is the fourth story in the Electric Love Series. If you would like to read the rest, you can check them out here.

One week ago, you definitely did not see yourself being Hwang Hyunjin’s date to his cousin’s wedding. He had been complaining to you and Seungmin at lunch about how his mother was trying to get him to bring her coworker’s daughter to the wedding. Tired of his complaining, Seungmin had suggest that Hyunjin bring you as his date.

“Seungmin! That’s a great idea! Y/N, you don’t have plans this weekend, right? Please say you’ll be my date.” He gives you his famous puppy dog eyes, and in that moment, you knew you couldn’t say no.

Later on that day, when Hyunjin had left for dance practice, happy to tell his mom he had a date, you and Seungmin were walking back to the parking lot, when you asked him, “Why would you suggest me being Hyunjin’s date?”

He responds, “Because I knew you didn’t have any plans this weekend and I wanted to enjoy my rice in peace without his complaints. Shouldn’t you be happy anyways? You get to stare at Hyunjin in a suit.”

“I don’t stare at Hyunjin.” Seungmin gives you a look, “Okay, maybe I stare at him, but it’s not that obvious.” He gives you another look, “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh Y/N,” Seungmin sighs as he pets your head.

Fast forward to later on that week, the day of the wedding. You’re waiting for Hyunjin to come and pick you up as you do some last-minute touch ups. When you hear your doorbell ring, you take one more look at yourself in the mirror.

As you approach the front door, you take a deep breath and then open the door, “Wow Y/N, you look beautiful.” Your face flushes and you look down at the ground to hide it. You couldn’t believe that he called you beautiful when he was standing there looking like that. He had on a formal black suit with a black tie and his blonder hair slicked back. To you, he looked like he stepped out of a movie.

“Do a little spin for me.” Hyunjin asks of you. Timidly, you do a little spin. You were unsure about the dress you chose for the wedding, but Seungmin and Changbin had both urged you to wear the lilac dress, so you had no other choice. Speaking of the two boys, you totally did not realize that they were sitting on the couch in the living room. Embarrassed, you give them a quick goodbye and head out to Hyunjin’s car.

“Bye guys!” Hyunjin says to them as he follows you.

“Ah…they grow up so fast.” Changbin says as he pretends to wipe away a tear.

“I bet you 10 bucks that they’ll be dating after tonight.” Seungmin challenges.

“Make it 15.”

On the drive to the destination of the ceremony, Hyunjin warns you about his crazy family, but from what you’ve heard from him, it just sounds like he’s exaggerating things. You’ve already met his mom and dad, but that was it, so you weren’t really sure what to expect. You had also met his cousin that was getting married, Soobin, a few times, and she was really nice. Hyunjin had also warned you that his ex-girlfriend, Seohee, was attending the wedding. You have never met her, since her and Hyunjin were together before you had met him, but you had heard all the crazy stories from the others, so your goal for the night was to avoid her.

As the two of you arrived at the church, you take in the scenery. The church they had selected for their ceremony was beautiful and had a gorgeous fountain right in the front. Once Hyunjin had parked the car, he had told you to wait, and walked around the car to open your door, and then he held out his hand.

“M’lady.” Giggling, you take his hand and climb out of the car. You let him lead you into the church and as step into the church you let out a gasp. The inside of the church had been beautifully decorated with white lilies and gold accents. As you take in the décor, you hear a loud, “Hyunjin!” Sticking an arm out to let you rest yours on his, he quickly whispers to you, “I forgot to mention, I didn’t tell my mom you were my date.” Your eyes widen from his confession, but as his mom and dad approach you, you give them a sweet smile. Hyunjin’s mom goes to hug him and you hear her tell him he looks handsome, and then she turns to you and hugs you as well.

“Ah, Y/N, I didn’t know you were Hyunjin’s date. It’s about time he– “

“Mother.” Hyunjin cuts her off. He gives her this look that you can’t quite explain, but then he turns to you gives you a smile. Hyunjin’s mom gives you the exact same smile and says, “It’s good to see you again Y/N. We should go sit down; the ceremony is about to start.”

During the ceremony, you two sat next to Hyunjin’s parents. You were amazed at how beautiful Soobin had looked in her wedding dress. She was already gorgeous in her regular outfits, but she looked like a real princess. ‘Dang,’ you think to yourself, ‘there must be something in the Hwang bloodline for everyone to be this beautiful.’ The ceremony itself was beautiful as well, the groom had even shed a few tears. As the newly married couple had walked down the aisle together, you had managed to catch Soobin’s gaze and she gave you her signature sweet smile and quickly turns her attention towards Hyunjin and gives him a small wink. Hyunjin turns around towards you and just shakes his head while laughing. If you could capture a picture of this image of Hyunjin with a camera you would, but you’ll just have to make do with capturing it with your mind.

The drive to the reception was quite short, and all you and Hyunjin could talk about was how beautiful the ceremony was. Hyunjin even admitted that he almost cried because Soobin was like a sister to him. When you arrived at the reception hall, cocktail hour had just started. You and Hyunjin were by a table off in the corner when you heard a squeal and then a loud, “Hyunjin!” You heard him say an uh oh under his breath. Suddenly a girl pops out and goes to hug Hyunjin. You’re not sure what to do so you just stand there awkwardly watching them.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You watch as Hyunjin has to physically pull her off of him. “I saw you at the ceremony but didn’t get a chance to say hi. Oh my gosh, you look so good.” She goes on to touch his hair and his face.

“Ehem.” Sohee finally realizes your presence.

“Oh? I’m sorry, how rude of me to not introduce myself, I’m Sohee.” She flips her hair and waves at you.

“Sohee,” Hyunjin starts, “this is Y/N, my date.” She narrows her eyes towards you as you give her a curt nod.

“Oh, I see. Well, anyways,” She turns her attention back towards Hyunjin, “I expect a dance with you later on tonight.”

“Sohee-“ She cuts him off, “Oh is that your mom over there? I should go greet her. I’ll see you on the dancefloor later, Hyunnie,” She gives his arm a squeeze before departing, not even bidding you a goodbye.

“Nice going, Hwang. It seems like you have impeccable taste in women.” He scoffs at your statement. “She’s crazy, it’s like she thinks she still owns me.” Noticing that his mood has gone down, you say to him, “Hey, forget about her. This night is supposed to be a fun night. The next time she tries to talk to you, just tell her you have explosive diarrhea.”

He laughs at your advice, “Ah, Y/N, what would I do without you.”

“That’s the thing Hwang, you don’t have to worry about being without me because I’m going to be stuck to you like a leech.”

Eventually the doors to the reception hall opens, and the guest are let in to sit at their tables. Upon finding your table, you see that everyone else at your table is already there and you greet Hyunjin’s parents again and are introduced Hyunjin’s other cousins. As you guys mingle, the bridal party begins to enter. You go on to watch the newly wedded couple’s first dance to Dan + Shay ‘Speechless’. You gasp in excitement when you hear ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ start playing for the father-daughter dance and you miss the endearing look Hyunjin gives you. As the night goes on, dinner is served to the guests, and because you and Hyunjin got two different dishes, you both eat off of each other’s plates. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach when Hyunjin tries to feed you, as a result, you end up smacking his arm as his parents laugh at the two of you and your antics.

Later on that night when everyone has had their dinner, the real party gets started. Once the DJ begins to play the ‘Cupid Shuffle,’ Hyunjin drags you onto the dance floor with him. Fortunately for you, this is one of the few dances you know, however, when ‘Yeah!’ starts to play your body freezes, not knowing what to do. Hyunjin, knowing you, grabs you by your arms and starts making you dance as crazily as him. Your body relaxes and lets him do whatever because you know there’s no way to change his mind. When the DJ changes the pace and switches to ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran, Hyunjin had attempted to say something to you, but was cut off by his little cousin, Heejin, who wanted to slow dance with him, and Hyunjin being Hyunjin, he gives you an apologetic look and goes on to dance with his cousin. Luckily for you, you don’t have to sadly walk back to your seat because Hyunjin’s other little cousin, Doyoung asks you for a dance, and being the polite person you are, you agree. As you dance with the younger boy, he goes on to tell you about the funny stories he has about Hyunjin and as the two of you laugh, Hyunjin watches you with fondness in his eyes.

The next song also ends up being a slow song, but as you walk towards Hyunjin, Sohee quickly cuts you off and grabs Hyunjin, forcing him to dance with her. You give Hyunjin a look, but he returns it with a shrug and a mouthed ‘sorry’. Defeated, you return to your seat to give your feet a break. You don’t realize it when Soobin comes up to you.

“Hey Y/n!”

“Hey Soobin, you look so beautiful! The ceremony and reception were wonderful.” You tell her.

“Thank you! Now tell me why you’re out here sitting all alone? Where’s Hyunjin?” You point in the direction of Hyunjin and Sohee, and as her gaze follows your finger, you hear her gag.

“I see…Good to know that Hyunjin’s still an idiot who can’t say no.” You laugh at her remark.

“You want to know something Y/N? I’m not surprised that Hyunjin asked you to be his date for tonight.”

Confused, you ask her, “And why is that?”

“Because, you’re always the first thing on his mind.” Not sure of what she’s talking about, you look out to the dancefloor and your eyes are met with Hyunjin’s that were already looking at you.

“I hope you’re not too worried about Sohee. There’s no way Hyunjin’s getting back with her, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure that tonight becomes your night.” With that being said, she gives you a wink and walks off towards the DJ. You watch her as she says something to him, and he gives her a thumbs up. She gives you another wink, lost in confusion, you hear the DJ say, “Okay, ladies and gents, this next one is for the ones who are feeling electric tonight.” Finishing his sentence, the DJ begins to play ‘Electric Love.’ Your attention was too focused on the DJ and Soobin that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had approached you with his hand out for you.

“May I have this dance?” Not saying anything, you place your hand on his and let him lead you to the dance floor once again. Unsure of how to dance to the song, you’re surprised when Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist. You slowly wrap your arms around his neck and try to move your body along with his.

Giggling he tells you, “You’re such a bad dancer.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best here Hwang.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a bad date.” Tilting your head in confusion, you ask him what he means by that.

“I mean that I’ve kind of been neglecting you tonight. I know you said I should just turn down Sohee, but I just couldn’t, and I felt really bad having to see you walk back without me. I just wanted to let you know that I told Sohee to leave me alone after tonight.”

Playing with the hair against his neck, you tell Hyunjin, “You have nothing to apologize for Hwang. It’s not like you left me alone for the whole night.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to be with you the whole entire time.” His statement makes your heart skip a beat.

“If I didn’t know any better Hwang, I would think that you like me.” You jokingly say, trying your best not to be awkward.

“Maybe what you’re thinking is right.” At that moment, you swore that your heart stopped beating. The two of you stop swaying, and instead Hyunjin looks into your eyes and then down to your lips and with all the confidence he has left in him, Hyunjin kisses you. Surprised, you don’t move for a second, but as Hyunjin begins to pull away, you pull him back in. The melody of ‘Electric Love’ playing through your ears as you kiss Hyunjin.

Around you, you can hear cheers, embarrassed, the two of you pull away from one another and instantly you are met with the sight of Soobin and Hyunjin’s parents smiling at the two of you. You hear an embarrassed whine escape from Hyunjin’s mouth, when Soobin says that he finely grew a pair. Laughing, the two of you separate and continued to dance the night away.

A/N: Wow, I’m already half way through the series. This one was a bit longer than I expected it to be, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! Feel free to let me know what you thought of it

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katerix · 4 years ago

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Hey @pinyapple! I’m your Secret Cupid! Here I am jumping from the horse into the last wagon of the event train:D I hope that the story is interesting, and you’ll enjoy it! @rdr-secret-cupid

Pairing: John Marston\f!Reader Warnings: fluff\angst&comfort\a hint of smut - 3in1: a little bit of this and that Words: 3434 (picture is not mine \ credits to the author)

“Morning, my dear girl,” said your father when you approached a big wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. “Good morning, dad,” you smiled, sleepily rubbing your eye.

It was a Saturday morning and today you woke up exceptionally late, about 1pm.

You were living on a small farm with your father. It was located a few miles away from the nearest town and it would’ve taken a half an hour to ride there.

You loved to take an old Travis the horse from the stable and ran away where the sun was waking up early. You liked to dream about travelling, adventures and far lands in the shadow of a big tree not very far from your house.

“I’ve been in town this morning,” said your father. “Did you? You never told me that you were going to. How was the ride? Everything was fine?” “Yes, sure. I saw Mrs. Anderson. She sent her regards.” “Oh, I appreciate that, thank you,” you smiled at him.

Mrs. Anderson was a nice woman who had a small flower shop and always gave you some flowers when you attended the town.

“I will drop in during the next visit,” you said while making yourself tea and sliced some more bread. “That’s what I’d like to hear!”, he replied.

Mr. (y\second name) was conservative when it came to the questions of manners. You were always expected to be a polite girl from a good family and you definitely were. But the young blood always desires venture. May it be caused by the stars location or chaotic decision of capricious gods, but something led you to the meeting with a man called John Marston on that fateful evening.

You opened the newspaper which was on the corner of the table and looked through some articles before you turned to your father.

“Dad? I wanted to go for a walk tonight. I heard that this evening will be special and the starfall must be observable from our part of the world!” “What do you say!” “Yes! I heard it from Mr. Douglas a week ago.” “You want to go out alone at night? You are a grown up lady and it’s not my privilege to tell you what to do, but don’t you think it’s a dangerous idea? There’re criminal elements in this area, you know that." “Oh don’t worry papa, I won’t be alone. I arranged to get together with our former sheriff’s elder son. He likes astronomy, do you remember that?” “Sure I do,” - he kept silent for some moment then said, - “Well. I think I can agree on that.”

Sheriff’s elder son was a man in his early forties and was married to a town girl and had already earned himself time to do astronomy, so there was nothing to worry about. Of course, getting such an alibi was a bold action, because if your father decides to ask about observing the stars, just from the point of good manners, the truth will be brought to the light. Your actual plan was to meet with John today. You also wanted to discuss a family dinner. The truth was that none of them knew about it - that’s why you were feeling a little nervous about the upcoming meeting. You wanted to introduce John to your father, but he always wanted you to unite for life with a noble young man from a prospective family, occupied in, let’s say, sales. Somehow you and John could hide your relationship for more than a year. His lifestyle, his bonds with the gang were making you question the possibility of your fine peaceful life together one day. And the fact that Mr. Marston never protested against these dreams of yours, was inspiring a warm feeling in your heart.

“So when do you want to leave?” “Around half past nine, it must be almost dark.” “You sure you don’t want me to escort you there?” “No-no, there’s no need for such sacrifice,” you giggled. Your dad gave you a delicate smile and sipped from his cup.

*** There was nowhere to rush now, when the father approved your little prairie voyage, so the rest of the day you spent in the garden behind the house. The territory of the ranch was quite big but the main part of your property rendered suitable land for agriculture. A small piece of it was gifted to you in order to plant flowers there. A lot of seeds were bought from Mrs. Anderson's, and sometimes you even brought her some of your own for sale. Roses of any kind and size, some tiger lilies and peonies- that all made your flower garden look great.

The closer to the time, the more excited you were. You dressed in a shirt and trousers with boots, with a thin fur jacket - for the night ride it was the best option - and took a creamy pink rose to put it in your hair once you are beyond the fence. You went down to find your father and say him goodbye.

“Dad, you here? I’m leaving!”

You looked into the living room, expecting to see him there with a book or at the table, writing another business letter, but it was empty. Then she heard a noise from the second floor and saw your father on the staircase.

“Already going?” “Yes, it’s high time. I’ll do my best to come back before dawn!” “What are you doing to your old man, young lady!” he laughed, making his way down the stairs to give his daughter an embrace. “Don’t worry, I will be fine, I promise. Please, you should think about your heart, papa,” you smiled widely, hugging him in an answer. “Be careful, my dear.” “I will,” you waved with your hand.

*** You almost approached the meeting point, when you felt your horse getting worrisome and saw the skies turning dark quickly. Rains in this area were starting as fast as they finished and you could only wonder “why now?”. Deep dark heavens didn’t condescend to the answer, so you just rubbed your legs in disappointment and continued riding to find a hideout before the first raindrops. You purposely avoided the Thieves Landing, so there were not many placed to hide from the rain on her way. During your and John's last meeting some days ago you decided to meet in the woods in West Elizabeth where there was a perfect spot upon the cliffs to watch the grand river from a distance, where not a single soul could disturb them.

Suddenly she heard a horse neighing then she saw a rider coming from behind the hill. At first you were dismayed as you didn’t have any weapon, but a moment later you recognized a familiar figure.

“Hey, sweetheart, isn’t it dangerous for such a pretty lady to ride alone at night?” then a low laughter followed.

When John’s horse got closer, you couldn’t help but resent:

“You scared the hell out of me! I thought it was a gangster who tracked me down.” “Well, actually I am a gangster, you see!”

As he hoped, your frustration was softened by his silly joke. It always gave him a warm feeling, because his sense of humor left a lot to be desired, but you always found it funny.

His horse drew level with yours, and he leaned down to kiss you, grinning when he saw how modestly you hid your smile.

“Oh no, y\n, do not hide this beautiful smile from me!”

You raised your head and looked at the man. His hand reached out to you and gently touched your chin, leaving a deep kiss on your lips.

“How was the road? Got without troubles?” asked John, picturing the way from the ranch to this point in his head. “As long as troubles don’t follow me - it’s fine by me. Why?” “It’s nothing really. On the way here I saw some gentlemen, heading west.”

John looked up in the sky and his eyebrows got together as he noticed how lightly you were dressed and how the sudden gust made your hair fly. “I know an old abandoned household not far from here. If we move right now, we can reach it before the storm.”

“I feel that something worries you.” “No-no, that’s totally fine,” he replied, taking a last look in the direction you came from.

After a while you finally reached the mansion that John was talking about. In real life it turned out to be bigger and more of a manor than “an old abandoned house”. Suddenly the skies split up in two by bright lightning, then a remote thunder hit your ears. You shuddered. What got into you? You were never afraid of thunder or darkness but this time something was scratching your heart with little iron claws.

You didn't notice that John had already dismounted, came over to you and put his hand on your leg, gently running it up and down.

“We going? Or you prefer to stay under the rain?” “Ah? Yeah,” with these words you tried to get down from the horse, only to end up in his arms, as he readily caught you up. You felt your heart beat faster against his chest, so you even wondered if he felt it or not, when you saw a dorky smile on his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. That, obviously, was not the most non-banal compliment, but he couldn’t help but admire your features and the flower in your hair, which so perfectly accentuated the color of your eyes. John didn’t let you stand on the ground and carried you all the way to the mansion.

When you entered the building, you stood on the floor and looked around. Tall walls were covered in old, almost destroyed by dampness, dull red wallpapers. You walked around the room and stopped next to the beautiful, probably, handmade sofa. John walked up to you and cuddled you from behind. His hand traced along your stomach and slid to your leg. You felt his warm breath on your neck. You turned around and kissed his jawline, moved up to the lips. He answered with a deep, passionate kiss. Then, with a sharp movement, he lifted you up and put you down, pinning down onto the couch.

*** “John?” “Yeah?” his voice sounded low and lazy. “I need to tell you something.” “I’m all ears, sweetheart.” “Do… Do you love me?” you felt how your cheeks were becoming hot. You also realized how silly this may sound, but you couldn’t take your words back.

John looked down at you lying on top of him and thoughtfully twirled a lock of your hair around his finger.

“Of course, princess. Why’d you ask?”

You were not sure how to reply so you didn’t rush to look in his eyes.

“You remember my father? Mr. y\sn.” “I’ve seen him in the town once. But never after that. Is that about him? Did anything happen?” “No, everything is fine. I just wanted to ask if… Would you come for a family dinner tomorrow? I’d introduce you to my father…»

He kept silent for a while. So you started to feel nervous and asked yourself why you even initiated that conversation. But then he answered:

“I’m not in my best shape to show up in higher society, you know..”

Again you looked up at him. Then smiled and gently touched his cheek, fingertips slowly stroking his fresh scars.

“I absolutely love your current shape, John.”

You felt him pressing you against his chest closer, rubbing a little invisible patterns on your bare back.

“It would be a great pleasure to come, but… You sure your father would enjoy my company? Because I’m not sure at all.”

Now it was your turn to make a pause.

He chuckled:

“Let it be.” “So will you come tomorrow?” “I’ll be there. I promise.”

The second you heard that, you felt like a huge rock got down from your shoulders, finally letting you breath.

You spent some more hours together in each other's embrace.

*** You were sitting on the doorsteps when you heard a noise from behind the barn. You didn’t expect John to come so soon and also why he didn't choose an open road to the ranch. After a long talk your father agreed to have dinner all together, so there was no need to sneak. The next moment you saw two riders, coming around the corner, your eyes got wider. Suddenly you heard the sound of a cocked gun to your left and shuddered.

“Hello, ma’am. Mind if I come in?”

You looked at the source of the sound and saw a middle aged man with shirt red hair and a whisker. You never saw him before, but you had no doubt that he was some gang leader. His hazel eyes were looking cold at you and it seemed obvious that an argument was not an option - a weapon pointed at you was a thing to be scared of.

“Move,” he ordered.

Two riders who were supposed to divert attention got closer, and you recognised two customers from the shop a week ago. Their leader with a rifle repeated in low tone:

“Go.”

You followed the order without saying a word. Men entered the house after you.

“Tie her up. I don’t like her sight, and I don’t want any surprise.”

Three more men entered the house and God knows how many of them left outside. One of the newcomers took off a rope and tied your hands up - you felt a slight pain caused by rough material.

“Good. And now, Mr.(y\sn),” he turned to your dad, “let’s talk.” The ginger man made an inviting gesture. You looked at your father and saw fear in his eyes, but he was acting totally cool and calm. Two men, standing next to the door, were holding rifles at the ready. Your dad nodded and went to the kitchen, followed by the ginger man.

You stayed alone in the living room, other gangsters were standing outside. You didn’t hear the conversation and had no idea about the reason for this attack, so you focused on the rope. An attempt to get rid of it has proven unfruitful, so you looked around to find any tool.

When you were about to stand up and search the desk drawers, a loud shot rang out behind the window. You saw three gangsters running out from the kitchen, swearing and shouting curses. You carefully approached the window and looked out. A splash of bright red blood covered the window glass and you staggered back, breathing heavy and fast. You heard a familiar voice from the distance:

“Don’t hide, cowards! Are you afraid of just one man?” taunting his enemies was so much like John.

You already started to worry - what if he would have changed his mind and would never showed up? You were happy that he appeared, and did it right in time. The sounds of battle continued unabated, and you thought that now was the best chance to get to the kitchen. The moment you were already next to the door your sight faced a dark shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway. You looked up and with a horror recognised the ginger man. You wanted to step away, but he grabbed you faster than you could blink.

“Let me go!” you tried to escape this tight grip but he was stronger.

You saw your father making an attempt to hit the bastard, but he didn’t seem to even notice that. He turned around and knocked Mr.(y\sn) down on the floor with his revolver.

“You son of a bitch! You will regret this!” you shouted at him. That was not a wise thing to do, but seeing him hurting your relative made you mad in a second.

“Language, lady,” the gangster chuckled, making an effort to hold you still, as you were kicking furiously, “Relax. I won’t hurt you,” his left, spare of a gun palm touched your cheek.

You were breathing heavily. “Where are you, John» you thought. Another one shot rang out louder , and you heard a voice screaming curses. For seconds you couldn’t hear anything from the outside. All outlaws were probably dead or wounded. But three gangsters were still inside the house - one behind the door corner, two others were next to the windows.

“C’mon, be a good girl,” said the gang leader and pulled you after him. Together you returned into the living room and the man stood behind a small purpur sofa, facing the doorway - the revolver at the ready. You couldn’t see your father was sitting beneath the wall, holding his hand on the forehead, a thin blood line was going down the temple.

The sound of shooting was getting closer, you heard how two or three bullets hit the wall. If earlier the gang leader was a picture of self-confidence, now this confidence of his started fading away. You kept quiet just continuing to fidget slightly.

The minutes seemed endless but the voice ripped you out of your thoughts:

“Hey mister, let the girl go. You don’t want problems, believe me!” “What about you taking your cowboy ass out of here, now?” “I’ll let you live if you free her.” “Put your weapon on the floor so I can see it and step inside. Or I'm gonna shoot this pretty face.”

John hesitated but then followed the order and put the rifle on the floor, slowly pushing it inside.

“I’m coming in. Don’t shoot.”

You felt how the ginger man swallowed loudly. He was nervous. You saw John entering. His right hand was close to body, another one slightly aside, demonstrating that he was disarmed. The gangster revolver was following the cowboy as he was approaching. He said something else, but you already stopped listening. You didn't have time to think that it could be dangerous but suddenly you kicked him hard on the leg with the heel.

Then everything happened too fast. You didn’t notice how John took out a gun with his right hand and shot right between the gangster’s eyes.

“John!”

He rushed toward you, held your tied hands and hurried to untie them with his hands shaking.

“Shh-shh, you are safe, y\n, you are safe now, everything is fine,” he whispered.

Once you were free, he pressed you against him tightly, burying his face in your hair. You crossed your hands behind his back.

“You came!” “How could I not come?” he looked down at you, cupping your cheeks, and kissed you gently.

You hardly kept a smile back. You two remained this way for a couple of minutes until your breath became calm and quiet. You were too overwhelmed with emotions that you didn’t even see a bloody wound on his shoulder.

“Oh no, your arm! You are hurt!”

“It’s just a scratch, baby,” he smiled at you, clumsily hiding a pleasure of you being so lovely and cute, and worrying that much about him. “Let’s help your dad,” said John and kissed your hand.

He stepped aside holding your hand in his and headed to the corridor. Your father was already back on foot and, when he turned to you, you saw an expression of relief on his face.

“Oh, you are safe, my dear girl, thank God!” you ran towards the oldman and hugged him.

John was standing a couple of steps aside with his head slightly bent down and a faint smile on his lips, leaning on one leg, left hand on his side. Only now you noticed that he was dressed not casually, but as festive as possible.

Mr.(y\sn) looked at John and you saw respect in his eyes. He approached the cowboy and held out his hand in order to shake in gratitude.

“To my knowledge, our hero must be John Marston,” he gave a fast glance in your direction, “you saved our lives, young man. I can never thank you enough for that.”

John shaked your father’s hand with a friendly smirk.

“Don’t worry, Mr.(y\sn). That was my duty to protect unarmed people from this bunch of bastards.”

“Well, don’t you mind going to the kitchen? Everything was prepared an eternity ago. Do you like whiskey, Mr. Marston?”

You came a little closer to them to be a part of a talk too.

“Sure, sir.”

Your father went away, and John softly touched your waist to let you go first.

#sorry for the late post #rdr secret cupid 2021 #john marston #john marston x reader #red dead redemption

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sweetrosetta-martin · 4 years ago

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I’ll always need you (John Lennon x reader)

Hey 💗

Im sorry I’m not too late as time zones and my computer keeps messing with me. I really hope you’ll enjoy it as I’m also sorry @towriteabetterlife if we did not get to know each other better. (This month has been as mess, but I send this christmas gift with all my love )🌼🎶

----

“Looking ahead, your day forecast for the 23rd of December consists of… Day There will be a high of -5c, with the record low of -15 …….. Better bring a coat folks. There may also be a snowstorm in the afternoon, so you better stay tuned for others....”

“John are ya ready, stop messing with the radio”

Knocking at the door of your bedroom, you expect a well (as much as he possibly can be) groomed John Lennon, but the only response you get is one of his wistful comments

“Only if you want me to be”

“You have not even put your suit right.”

“...‘I've never enjoyed myself more in boxers.”

Any other night you would have laughed at his manners, but not tonight. After all, it was the annual Parlephone Christmas party, and being more than an hour late to your boyfriend's first ceremony was not on your plans. You wanted everything to be perfect for once, as this was probably one of the biggest steps in his career and making a good impression on his superior was essential.

After some minutes of waiting, he finally decides to open his door

“So how do I look”

He was wearing a sober yet well tailored gray suit. With it’s dark shades, straight lines and him wearing his glasses, John seemed way out of character. Yet somehow managed to be adorably handsome with his cheeky smile and disheveled hair. How could you stay annoyed at him?

“Like one of those men you deem to have dull jobs, "You smile at him, sticking your tongue as you come close, putting your arms around him and forcing him to sit on your boudoir. “Now pass me the brush will ya.”

As you softly brush his dark auburn hair, he suddenly puts his hand on yours.

“What if we stayed rather than pretending we are entertained by the words of some white collars snobs”

He turns his head, giving you a mischievous look.

“But this is not supposed to be an important-"

Before you can continue, he interrupts your rant with a sweet kiss.

“Let’s Macca handle all that posh talk he’s so good at shall we.”

You could not resist him as he leads you close to his bed.

“I’ll go to get some food then.”

“I still think we have some unfinished business don’t we miss “(y/n)”

-^-^-^-^-^-

“Well… At least we are not trapped at the party right?”

Getting up from his side, you notice that your vision could not be one of more than 2 meters outside. The snow seemed to have appeared suddenly, and the idea of going for some dinner was now out of the question. Yet your tummy was not on the same page.

“Yeah but with something to bite”

You drowsily put on some more comfortable clothing and head to the kitchen. John follows you, not without poking your back, as you both walk. He’s always more touchy and needy than he’d ever admit to the lads.

Now searching through the counters and fridge, you only found yourselves with some milk and single egg, the rest being long gone. Your stomach grumbles once more

“Hey (y/n) I’m sure we’ll be able to", he looks unsurely at counter,”manage something edible.”

That’s when the idea suddenly hits you.

“Mmm didn't George buy that flour for the bloody cookies he ate almost by himself?"

He seems to catch on your plan, as he picks up some sugar and butter from the dinner table.

“Well, then what are we waiting for?"

^-^-^-^-^-^

“Mom is surely a genius to figure this by herself,” you think as you try to stir all the ingredients at the time.

Owning no cooking book, you had to invent the measurements yourself and this was proving no easy task. The mix becoming to liquid or sticky at each try

“Trial number five… Are you ready Johnny”

“You know that I love you (y/n) but if aunt Mimi saw you at the kitchen she probably would not have let you put a foot on her house.”

He was holding the cutting board he’d be using for the last minutes as a protection of all the dough flying in the air.

“Well… Here we go.”

You close one eye as you put the mixer on the bowl, hoping that this time it would work.

Surprisingly enough, both you and what has stayed clean on the counter suffered no collateral damage. This time it has worked.

“I did it?”

“You did it?”

He sticks his finger to take a taste and by his satisfied looks you knew you were on the right path.

“I always believed on your marvelous cooking skills you know that darling,”

“Tell me about it”

Slowly shaking his head, he ruffles your already messy hair as he disappears to the living room.

“You know there’s still one step right.”

“Not for me if there is no other music besides that bloody machine”

As you finish placing the cookies on the tray and preparing the oven, a sweet Holly melody fills your ears and some arms embrace you from the back.

John has never been the most confident dancer, but the way he tossed his head from one side to the other always made you smile.

“Well, that'll be the day when you say goodbye.

Yes, that'll be the day when you make me cry"

“I’m sorry for making you stay.“

You stare for one instance at his eyes, as you place your head on his shoulder. It was rare to see him excuse himself in that way.

“It’s just that it becomes pretty upsetting to play their mind games all the time y’know.”

“You know your friends love you, Johnny, Paul loves you... I love you.”

“Well, when Cupid shot his dart

He shot it at your heart.

You embrace him as strongly as you can.”

“I assure you it’s all gonna be alright,I’ve seen you from strumming some chords on trucks to playing Liverpool’s greatest clubs”, you smile at him,”and besides, those shoes were killing me so thank the lord I’m not obliged to used them for some more hours.”

'Cause that'll be the day when I die"

Suddenly your peaceful moment is interrupted by the fire alarm going off. There goes the food.

“Maybe I did confuse Fahrenheit with centigrades…”

“And you tell me I’m the one blind as a bat… At least I’m not trying to set the house on fire.”

I give another look at the disaster and mess.

“I think I can wait for the lads tomorrow.”

“Not a bad plan.”

------------

^-^ Merry Christmas y’all 💗💗🎉⛄

#casaflowersecretsanta2020 #the beatles #beatles #my writing

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closer-stars · 4 years ago

Text

Precious - Seonghwa (2)

Member: Seonghwa Genre: Drama and Horror for the most part Word Count: 7.3k Requested: Yes Content: Seonghwa finds out what the fuck goes on. Slightly inspired by the fact they went to Spain. A lot of weird things happen. Mentions of body horror, food (it’s not a Stars work if there’s no food involved). Religious references. San is Protective of Seonghwa. Eden knows something that we don’t. Note: Okay so Part 2 of Precious is here. I had to read about various Biblical references from academic papers, YA books I’ve grown up reading and some classic literature books I’ve had to read at one point. Some architecture readings, some history readings because I have a short attention span that wants to know everything. Things might not be accurate, history/biblical mythology wise but an Attempt was made.

Part 1

The plans of going abroad to record their next album was a surprise for them, even more that this time it’s not going to be in the US. For the majority of the boys, this plan was met with excitement and curiosity. New places, new experiences and most importantly new food. Only Seonghwa met this idea with hesitance. Something about it didn’t sit right with him but did he really have a say in this? San noted his uneasiness at the news. “Hyung, is everything okay?” He asked in the midst of excited murmuring around them. The older’s eyes gaze over the other members and he found it better to keep his peace so he nods.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Once we get back to our dorm we need to start packing.” He returned. “Also, don’t get lazy packing this time please? The last time you did, you forgot your toothbrush and toothpaste at home and we were already in America.” This was met with a small whine from the younger.

“Okay okay! I’ll get started on it tonight.” San doesn’t press on his hyung’s discomfort. One way or another he does come clean about it. It was better to wait, he supposed.

-------

Fast forward to a week later. They’re now in Spain. They’ve been assigned into their rooms. Instead of having Hongjoong or Yeosang as his roommate this time, it was San. Not that he didn’t mind it but it was a nice change, even if the younger teases him to no end. Since it’s their first day and everyone’s still clearly jet-lagged, their staff let the boys free for the first two days to get used to the change.

The first day was quiet, as quiet as it can be with eight boys in a new city. Most of the time was spent getting their body clocks to fall in sync with the city’s life. Some of them went out on their own with some of their staff, exploring the shops. Others went and explored the restaurants, wondering where to eat for their next meal. Seonghwa opted to go and quiet down in a coffee shop, the spacious and antique interiors are complete opposite to the ones he knows back home. It’s a rare occurrence too to have San accompany him into a coffee shop, knowing him he usually opted to go around and buy clothes or trinkets to remember the trip.

“Coffee? I thought you didn’t like coffee.”

“I don’t like Americanos, San. My coffee’s just the usual mocha.” The older reasons with a pout. The younger giggling softly at the sight.

“Alright, alright. I’ll just get the Americano and we can just split the strawberry cake you’ve been eyeing since we arrived.”

The rest of their stay in the shop goes by smoothly, his mind distracted by the food in front of him and San excitedly gushing over the planning of their next album. “I wonder what Eden-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung have. I mean we know what this next one’s supposed to mean but song wise and choreo wise? Ugh, Hyung, I want to get back on stage soon.” San confesses and it makes Seonghwa wonder if his energy was from his itch to perform or from the coffee. Instead of saying anything, Seonghwa nods in empathy. He misses the stage too and he hopes that they’d be able to get back on it soon.

It’s when the others found a quaint restaurant a few blocks away from their hotel that they realize that dinner was rolling in soon for them. San notices the message and the time. “Should we get going?” He asks, as he finishes the last of his coffee. Their cake long gone.

The older male nods his head as he takes a few sips of his water. “Let’s go. We don’t know how long it would take the others to get back and knowing Wooyoung and Yeosang, those two get distracted along the way easily.”

------

Seonghwa’s sleep for the night wasn’t terrifying but it wasn’t peaceful either. Every few hours he’d wake up disoriented, the images in his dreams nonsensical but at least he didn’t have any bout of sleep paralysis. It only takes a few minutes for him to get back to sleep but every time he does, he sees weird things.

Colorful flames dance in front of his eyes, feathers of various birds falling into the flame, some unharmed, some turning into a crisp. It’s the first time he’s seen a flame so intensely blue that leaves some of the feathers safe from the damaging heat. He swears he could hear someone call his name somewhere, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the damaged feathers, too entranced by how it burns red, ashes of what was falling from the body until all that was left was a charred crisp of ashes. His name continues to be called, it’s when he feels a jolt that he’s pulled back into the waking world.

“Seonghwa-hyung!”

His eyes shoot open, immediately shutting them again from the glare of the morning sun.

“Hyung, it’s 8AM. The breakfast is open for two more hours only.” San says as he fixes himself infront of the mirror.

His hand roams across the expanse of his bed until he finds his phone. 7:45 AM. “Dammit, San. It’s only fifteen minutes before eight... “ He lies back in bed, rubbing his eyes as he tries to remember what he had just seen minutes before. “Wait, you’re awake before I am.”

San looks back at his hyung, hand on his hip. Mingi’s been rubbing off on him. “Glad you noticed! Mingi kept calling my phone to wake me up. We’re going around the city today while Hongjoong-hyung, Jongho and Eden-hyung finalize the guides.”

A whine nearly slips from his lips, wanting to rather sleep in and do nothing all day. Another side of him reminds him that it was rare to get such an opportunity to just live and so he thinks. When he reaches for the phone, San asks what he’s doing.

“Room service. By the time I finish showering, the food’s going to be here.”

San stares at him for a few moments before groaning and throwing himself on the bed.

“Why didn’t I think of that… I could’ve gotten a few more minutes of sleep…”

-----

It was Yunho’s suggestion that they look around the city, see the history and the like. Considering that their leader, their maknae and Eden were in the studio, not too far from the hotel, it results in Seonghwa and Yunho being the heads of the group along with one manager as the rest of them sightsee.

“There’s this really cool park we saw yesterday but we didn’t get to go inside. There’s so many pretty stuff in there too!” Yunho explains, already looking at their map and leading the rest of the group.

------

They arrive just outside the park. One that seems to be well known for having locals and tourists flock to for the history and scenery. Some of the boys try to read the name of where they were but San was the closest to the actual pronunciation. A quick translation: The Park of Pleasant Retreat. Seonghwa could see why from where they stood. People lounged around the greenery, taking in the warmth of the sun as they mingled with their loved ones. If Seonghwa squints a bit, he could even see a few people playing music under the shaded refuge of the trees. There even seems to be a body of water where people rowed small boats around, some lingering by the steps aged by natural forces and people who have come before them.

The boys have already learned that if they act like they should be hidden, they’ll be noticed by the public. It’s because of Wooyoung that they decide to go and explore through this path. A part of him thinks back to Jongho who would’ve loved to see this place and take photos. Even if Seonghwa didn’t know the history that this park holds down to the details, he knew that it seems to hold a large piece of the country’s history judging by the architecture. Grandiose pillars, crowned at the top with designs that curled inwards, though the temple-like pathway looks pristine, it has definitely been colored and worn through time. His eyes take in the scenery, occasionally stopping to take a few photos. It was a good change of scenery he thought, away from the chaos of his daily life, everything felt serene and calming. He could see why people flock to this park. He notices that his members had slowed to a stop and their manager was about to get in between them and the stranger that has made their presence known to them.

She looks like a local judging by her clothes and how she just seemed in her element. Seonghwa’s eyes study her features from where he stands: high cheekbones, pink lips that were adorned by a dainty cupid’s bow. Her almond shaped eyes were revealed after she rests her shades atop her head. Her skin, unblemished and unmarked, tanned by constant hours under the sun. She carries herself with so much poise, the male would’ve thought she was some sort of local celebrity. It was when she started to speak in Korean that they somewhat relaxed. “Hey, I’m just a local, I promise. My name’s Kayla. You guys just seemed like you would prefer getting the rundown of what this place is.” She explains as she brings out an ID to show to their manager and to the rest of them. “Also, I work as a local tour guide in my free time so…” She trails off with a shrug. The boys look to each other and under their breath they ask.

“Should we?” Yunho mumbles as he eyes everyone.

“I mean we only have this day…” Yeosang points out, brushing through his hair that's starting to become a nuisance to his eyes.

“If she’s shady, we can just make an excuse and go.” Wooyoung adds.

“So yes?”

They looked at each other one more time and figured: nothing to lose. They turn to their manager who has told them of their rules since Day 1: Don’t do anything stupid. To everyone, it wasn’t. To San and Seonghwa, it was bordering on stupid.

So the rest of the boys agree, the minority: San and Seonghwa just letting them be and trailing behind the group.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

Seonghwa doesn’t register the younger’s question. Since the group was so busy discussing the opportunity, the male had been stuck in his thoughts. Those features were familiar but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Did he see her online somewhere? Hell, who was she even? It was impossible for him to have seen her in his dreams, he barely remembers what he dreams about nowadays. He should’ve taken a peek at the ID when he had the chance earlier.

“Hyung.” San calls out again, bumping his elbow to the older and this brings him out of his reverie.

“Huh? Yeah, sorry what? I was spacing out again, I think.”

This time San lets out an exasperated sigh, much similar to the ones Seonghwa lets out when they act up. “I’m worried. You’ve been on edge since you heard we were going to come here for work.” He was right. The days leading up to this trip, he hasn’t been calm. His nights consisted of tossing and turning as he tries to get some peace. If none of those movements bring him that rest, he ends up doing the same home workout routines he sees San do until he feels exhaustion and considering that he’s an idol, it takes a long while until his body gives in to the comfort of his bed. So the older one lets out a soft groan, making sure no one hears it.

“I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right.” He mumbles, opting to use dialect just to make sure she didn’t understand. How sure was he even that she wouldn’t understand him? “I had a nightmare… a few weeks or months prior to this and it’s just really weird.” He continues as the walk through the wide paths. For a moment, everyone gets distracted by a couple walking dogs they’ve never seen before. While he smiles at the sight of his members finding glee in the furry companions, he catches sight of the couple’s eyes and his blood runs cold: icy blue. It’s not like the eyes he had seen in his nightmare but these two carry a weight that made him think: it was better to stay in his side. He looks away immediately and opts to fix his attention to what the woman explains.

“This park’s been known for their architecture. This park was commissioned roughly in the 1630s, constantly being expanded and improved upon by the Spanish monarchy. It was open to the public by the second half of 1800s and what you see people doing today, it was the same back then. I guess you can say not much has changed since then. Countless monuments and buildings have been made here over the centuries which you can see by the change in architectural and artistic design.” She explains. She gestures to a glass structure some meters ahead of them. “That over there was used as a winter garden for flowers that weren’t usually found in Spain, nowadays it’s for exhibitions and the like. Insanely pretty isn’t it?” She muses as some of the boys take a few shots as they get closer. A few moments of silence pass over them until she speaks up again. “Actually, there’s this monument I’d like you boys to see. No other place in the world has something like this. By any chance, is any of you easily scared?”

That prompts the boys to gesture at Mingi, which he accepts with grace. “I’m not good with scary.” He explains with a bashful grin. He takes this cue to hold onto their manager, thus earning him a soft chuckle from the woman. As she sweeps her gaze across all of them, lingering for a moment or two at one particular man, she smiles. “I assure you that this isn’t too scary but it might be a little unnerving.” With a turn of heel, she leads them through another path, slowing down as they are greeted by a tall monument.

At the foot of the monument are eight faces of beings no one can quite tell spouting out water from its respective orifices. The beings, so ambiguous, so odd it’s hard to look away from were unnerving upon a closer look. Seonghwa looked up at the top of the monument and he immediately knew: they needed to leave. At the top of the monument rests a statue, twisted in turmoil as he falls backwards. The fall clearly did not look like something the subject wished. The wings of the statue are somehow still outstretched, in a feeble attempt to protect the owner from further pain. While he couldn’t see the statue’s details closely, he could note that there were things that wrapped around its wrist and ankle. He could only guess that those were snakes or reptiles that looked just like the ones at the foot of the monument.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you the Fountain of the Fallen Angel.” She starts as she gestures to the anguished being on top. “It’s rather an oddly proud moment for us to be the only ones with a public monument dedicated to the Fallen Angel-- as far as I know that is. To start, this was inspired by John Milton’s book Paradise Lost. Nothing has been definite as to whether or not this fallen angel is Lucifer the Morningstar himself, falling from grace or just any other angel that has fallen but some do like to believe it is the Lucifer being depicted up there.”

At the mention of the word star, Wooyoung teases Seonghwa. “Heh, don’t you call yourself a star too?”

Yeosang raises his hand, just like an obedient boy in class. “Wait, why did he fall?”

Before she could answer, San beats her to it. “Because of his pride isn’t it? That guy up there wanted to be as great as God and tried to make other angels rebel with him.”

This pleases her. The way her lips curve into one of pride has Seonghwa’s skin crawl with discomfort. “That’s correct. Did you also know that this statue stands 666 feet above sea level?” She asks, only to further explain the math of where they stand, how tall the pillar this monument stands on, and how tall the statue is. It was a reasonable guess and considering what the statue was, the connection just seemed right.

“On our eye level,” she continues. “We see eight different types of demons and other symbolisms related to the Bible.” she gestures to the eight different phases at the bottom. “This statue has seen a lot of things throughout history that if you have perfect eyesight, you can actually see some bullet holes on the body and wings. Those being remnants of the wars this land has experienced.”

Everything about the statue made Seonghwa want to run, run far away from this place and head back home. The adrenaline starts to make his head pound, that he holds onto San’s forearm.

“Hyung, are you-”

“I’m fine. I just got lightheaded.” He mutters as he breathes in through his nose and out his mouth. The air didn’t seem as cooling as it did earlier anymore. No one takes pictures of this monument, the history surrounding it and the context behind the figure makes it too unsettling for any of them to hold a little piece of memory.

As they walk away from that work of art, Wooyoung asks her. “Miss, are you religious? I hope I don’t come off as rude..” he mumbles a little embarrassed.

“Dear, what makes you think of such?”

“You just seemed like you knew a lot about that statue and its context…”

So she hums in thoughts. “Your friend earlier, the one that answered your friend’s question. Is he also religious?”

“He used to be.”

“A wise decision.” She nods. “To answer your question, is being knowledgeable in one belief equivalent to being religious?”

Seonghwa wishes he didn’t hear that.

Wooyoung purses his lips, “I suppose not.. To be honest, you sounded like you believed in the stories.”

Oh how Seonghwa wishes he could tell Yunho to make Wooyoung shut up.

“Now tell me dear, Why should I believe in beings I have not seen in their flesh? The farthest we have seen of these beings are through art and the stories passed onto us.”

It unnerves San how she talks in such riddles all of a sudden.

Seonghwa’s phone rings all of a sudden and he has never felt more relief when he finds out it was Hongjoong. Everyone’s phones seem to ring at the same time. A group chat message.

Yunho’s the first to read the message and his face falls for a moment only for an apologetic smile to quickly replace his pout. He turns to the lady, as he keeps his phone. “We’re really sorry but we have to go. Work’s calling for us.” He explains simply.

“Oh? You guys are already working? But you look so young..” She notes, her eyes studying each of their features closely.

“It’s okay we like what we’re doing anyways.” San says in return, his arm around Seonghwa was the only thing keeping the male steady as he tries his best to appear nonchalant.

The lady’s bottom lip juts out at the abrupt ending to the tour. “Mhm, I suppose that’s more important isn’t it? Happiness.” No one knows if she’s talking to them or to herself so they take the cue to bid her goodbye. “Very well! I hope to see you boys soon, good luck with your work.” She gestures at the direction they came from just so they don’t get lost along the way.

It’s only when they arrive at the same place where they started earlier that Seonghwa speaks up. “Let’s just make our way to the hotel then head to Hongjoong.”

The guides were finished and all that was left was for them to record the songs.

-------

For the next few days of their stay, all they’ve done is practice and record the songs until Hongjoong and Eden were satisfied with the quality. Even with the troubles of the new equipment that came along the way, it was a relief to everyone to have finally finished the songs. All that was left was to decide on when the shooting and promotions will be. Seonghwa pats their leader’s back lightly. “You did well, Hongjoong.” He mumbles, throat a little worn from having pushed himself to reach a few notes that weren’t in his usual range. Hongjoong on the other hand hums in response. There was only so much he could do with what they have but if time allows, he would definitely ask for them to re-do some of their lines, maybe not here but back home.

Eden tells everyone to call it a night after such a tiring and intense week, even forcing Hongjoong to not touch his music software for the night. Even with those words, they know better: Hongjoong would stop when he’s done solidifying all the ideas in his head.

------

The entire week of recording and practicing had made Seonghwa forget about their tour guide and his sleep problems. The past few nights just being pure dreamless sleep, that or he forgets what his dreams were within the first few seconds of waking consciousness. Now that the week is over, he still hopes he could get the same dreamless sleep that wasn’t plagued by the stress of his work.

His eyes were closed by the time he throws his body onto his bed.

He doesn’t feel the heavy weight on his chest this time, but he still can’t get his body to move. He hoped it wasn’t the same being that visits him now, he wasn’t sure if he should hope for a different being either. While on his side, he looks around, San’s sleeping body just a few feet away from him. It’s only when he looks by the door that he notices the being. Human looking just like the first one but with an air that carries pain masked by regality.

“How has your stay been in our humble abode, Sir?” He asks, tone gravelly, as if his throat has been abused by cigars, alcohol and more. Seonghwa could barely make out the rest of his features from where he lays. He wants to answer but he doubts his own throat could do the same effort as the being that leans against the wall. “Oh don’t worry, you can speak around me. I suppose my sister had been rough on you the first few visits?” The stranger adds. He steps further into their room. Though spotless, the bottles of soda and packs of instant noodles are enough to tell him that these boys were not too far into their adulthood.

At his words, Seonghwa opens his mouth. “How did you get into our room?” He mumbles, there’s still a restriction in his throat but better than the first time. Did all of whatever they are have the same sort of power?

“Oh please, the sleep paralysis thing we do isn’t everyone’s. Just my family’s.” The unnamed male returns, reading Seonghwa’s mind. “Call me El, I’m sure you’ve met my sister, Kea. My bloodline is besides the point, I’ve come to visit to see how my people have treated you and your hm, group?”

People? Seonghwa looks at the man once more, unsure of what he means, and fears if he were to explain any further.

“What the fuck?”

Seonghwa’s eyes dart to his roommate, already sitting up on his bed. At his words, El looks at him and with a shit eating grin, he manages to stride across their room and out the window. A grandeur exit. While Seonghwa wasn’t able to see the male unfurl his wings, if he was indeed telling the truth, he wouldn’t be surprised if his wings looked anything like his aforementioned sister.

He regains the feeling and control in his body and sits up from his bed, San already contacting someone about what had happened. “So you saw what I saw?” Seonghwa asks, as San tries to contact someone in his phone.

San uncharacteristically shushes the older once the recipient of the call picks up. “They’re here. One of them visited our room and talked to Seonghwa.” A few more minutes pass and San hangs up. “Hyung, I’ll explain later but we need to get everyone to wake up and head to the studio. Go get ready, I’ll wake up the others.” It’s rare to see San so steely and dark. Besides him, San was the next scariest person when angry so he does as he’s told. He kicks off the sheets and gets his clothes ready for what could be a long day.

---------

“We need to go back.” Eden says, as he finally saves all their work into the hard drive.

This shocks everyone, at least those who haven’t known what happened. Those being anyone that wasn’t Seonghwa and San.

“We just got here, what’s wrong?” Yunho asks, sitting up from his spot on the couch. Hongjoong already had an idea of what was going on thanks to Eden, if his dark look is anything to go by. No other words were shared by the rest of the boys, but upon seeing Seonghwa, San and Hongjoong pack up their things from the studio without a word, they figured something was up. Hongjoong shoots them a look that tells them to start moving, any explanations will be done when they’re on the way back.

They move back into the van, and even then nothing has been said. The air is stiff with tension, worry and confusion. Seonghwa’s face was unmoving but the lines of fear appear on his features. He looks out of the window, watching aged buildings blur past them. He wonders if any of these buildings house these odd beings as well. They might have, just not in the buildings he supposes. Wooyoung’s persistent nature of wanting to know what’s happening nearly has Hongjoong snap at the younger. It’s not until San places his hand on the leader’s shoulder that tells him to cut them slack. They don’t know, not yet at least. Seonghwa glances at the two share a conversation with loaded gazes. “Quit it, all of you. Once everything quiets down, I’ll explain.” he mumbles as he rubs his forehead, a weak attempt to smoothen out the stress that hasn’t left him since they’ve stepped foot into this country.

It’s rare to have Seonghwa speak up like that. It’s all it takes for everyone to behave.

They arrive in their hotel and immediately make their way to their respective rooms. San and Seonghwa speed to their room, packing everything they’ve brought out from their luggages and back inside. It only takes three hours, considering that they haven’t stayed too long in the country yet, to get everything back in.

The older male is too busy in his head, making sure he hasn’t forgotten anything: passport, charger, wallet, among other valuables. It’s when San calls his name and tosses him his hat that he remembers that he’s going to need to keep his sight limited to what’s directly in front of him to keep him from losing his sanity. “We’ll get back safely.” San promises him. His luggage was already strapped and ready, much like his. It’s only then that he releases the breath he’s been holding since they were in the studio.

“I hope so. I don’t think I can bear to see any of you in danger just because of me.” He says under his breath. They take one final look around their room and seeing that everything’s clean, they make their way out. The pair’s greeted by the other members already making their way towards the elevator. While the others only have hats or sunglasses covering their features, Seonghwa had to take both for safety.

Eden was already at the reception, waiting for everyone. He looks at his phone, counting the hours from where they are to the airport, alone with their flight back. He needs to explain to Seonghwa especially what’s been happening to him. But to that, he wants to make sure there are no ears on the walls. The producer’s greeted by everyone and he already nods towards the doors. “Our rides are already waiting for us outside.”

“Rides?” Seonghwa repeats, the idea of splitting up didn’t feel right but at this point he wasn’t sure if these feelings are of paranoia or gut.

Eden glances over at the covered boy and a bit of his heart twists, he could only imagine the stress this boy was going through and being separated from the rest of his members probably was making it worse for him. “We’re too many plus our luggage but I made sure we’re with people we can trust so let’s go.” He doesn’t expound anymore as he strides out.

The ride to the airport is quiet, and it’s the one of the rare times Seonghwa’s sleep was peaceful. His body slouched over, leaning against the younger. Throughout the entire stay in Spain, San hasn’t left the eldest’s side and it’s from there that the others figured that San knew something they didn’t know.

Hongjoong’s the first one to speak up. “San-ah. What’s been happening?” His voice quiet to make sure he doesn’t disrupt his sleep. He should’ve noticed the bags under his eyes since they arrived. The younger looks over at the exhausted member and tries to find the right words at least for this moment.

“There’s been something that’s been bothering him. It only got worse when we came here. We’ll explain when we’re back in Korea.” Who knew being knowledgeable in all those religious stories would be useful to him?

The rest of the ride is quiet but no one else falls asleep. San gently rouses him awake. “Wake up, we’re here.” The older one groans at how his peace has slipped away and he’s greeted by the sight of his members jumping out of the car, to be greeted by their managers and staff who also had their luggages. San couldn’t help but chuckle softly as the other curses in discomfort as he stumbles out, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

It doesn’t take long until everyone’s by the boarding gate. Everything feels like a blur to Seonghwa. The nap in the car made him realize just how his body ached for some peace. As they fall into lines to get into the airplane, Seonghwa leans against the back of his manager, resting his forehead against his back. He craves for sleep, for an escape from all of this and to be frank, he doubted he’d be able to escape this hell he’s in.

By the time he’s in his designated seat in the aircraft, he’s knocked out once more. He only manages to wake up when the stewardesses serve their meals. He doesn’t even bother with the fact all of them are in business class. He’s sandwiched by San and their manager and while he can probably talk about what’s been bothering him, he doesn’t trust anyone else. While his thoughts run amok, his eyelids feel heavy. His physical body needed rest but his mind wouldn’t let up, with a disgruntled huff he puts in one earphone, letting music be a distraction from his paranoia. It’s clockwork for the entire flight, sleep, eat, worry, sleep, repeat, until they land back in their motherland.

It was a miracle nothing had happened during the flight. Seonghwa doubts he’d be able to forgive himself if anyone became a victim to his misery. The ride back home was quiet as well, no one expected their sudden return after the chaotic entrance into the airport a few days back.

By the time they arrive at their agency, it was mid-day. Everyone feels the exhaustion slowly steep into their bodies but their need to understand what’s going on somehow keeps them awake.

The eight boys file into the conference room, Eden following them into the room shortly after. “I’ll make this quick and bearable since you boys need to catch up on rest for the time being.” He starts. The producer’s eyes studies each boy, and can’t find it in himself to put them through another hectic meeting, not now at least. “Seonghwa’s been considered a hot topic among the fallen angels which I assume is what has been disturbing his sleep for who knows how long.” All eyes were on him now as he sighs.

“San explained bits and pieces to me before I told all of you to pack up.” He doesn’t go into detail unless someone asks, out of pity over their exhausted conditions. “Simply put, someone, i’m presuming one of the fallen in Spain ended up finding out we were there too.” Eight pairs of eyes gaze at him, most of which were heavy in need of rest, one had fear and confusion mixed in their gaze, but everyone carried the question of ‘Why?’. So he sighs, “I wish I knew why but for now, I need all of you to be careful and keep an eye on each other.” He hands Seonghwa a gold necklace with a pendant that seemed to depict a holy figure, judging by the round band over their head. “You guys need to get rest first. Seonghwa, while I’m not sure of what we’re dealing with exactly, just wear that first for protection.”

“Since when were you religious?” Seonghwa asks, as he studies the pendants. As far as he remembers, the producer was far from a man of faith.

“I’m not but because we’re dealing with fallen angels, we might as well make sure we’re on equal ground.” The adult reasons with a shake of his head.

This cues him to look at the male, keeping the necklace in his pocket. “You know they exist but you don’t believe in them?”

“Seonghwa, I know there’s a more powerful being above all of us. Even them, but I don’t know if they are really the God that they talk about.”

There’s too many questions but Seonghwa shakes his head free of them. “We’ll get going, get some rest too, Hyung.” He reminds as he opens the door, letting everyone out first before him.

-------

The feeling of being home doesn’t bring him as much comfort as it should and he’s not sure of how to process that. He didn’t want to sleep yet, even if he’s exhausted from the trip and stress, so he lets the other members wash up first before he does. As he waits, his fingers fiddle with the golden chain of his new necklace. He’s back trapped in his own thoughts with no answers to his questions. When he feels like he’s got some sort of direction, it splits into several directions trapping him in a web of ideas that make no sense.

Mingi’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, telling him that everyone else was finished.

The hot water manages to calm him down even for a bit. The water beating against his back and shoulders softening all the knots that have formed over the past few months. Once he’s finished cleaning himself up, he finds himself able to breathe a little better with the loose clothing of his sleepwear.

When he feels his body land against the worn comforter, he blacks out. The necklace laid underneath his pillow just for safekeeping. It’s worth a shot even if he doesn’t believe.

When he opens his eyes, he feels the same weight again on his body. He’s gone past the point of scared, he’s tired. He just wants sleep, peace, a clear head to juggle his work and his personal life. He knows what’s next. Another of those fallen angels is somewhere in his room. His eyes dart from various points of the room, looking for the presence.

There she is.

The same being from the first time. The same lady, only she looks like she finally knows what she was looking for.

Once Seonghwa gets a better look, he realizes it’s the same lady when they were in Spain. Even in his inability to move, he wants to lunge and fight her. While he isn’t one to raise his hand on anyone, he was willing to throw that rule of his to the wind just to deal with her. Alas, he’s constricted to the bed.

“How was your stay in Spain, dear Seonghwa?” she muses, knowing full well that he won’t be able to answer. “I see that you have people around you that know of what’s been happening.” she continues as she saunters to the unmoving male.

He despises how his body feels so numb.

“Who knew that what we would be looking for wasn’t an object?” Seonghwa stares at her, anger burning in his orbs. Not like he knew what she was on about, he didn’t even know how they existed or how they live. He feels her pointed nail drag across his skin, just below his neck. “You’d be useful to us, sweetheart.” Her voice felt like it was laced with honey, tempting him to submit to her. “Do you want fame, my star?” The endearment makes his skin crawl. “You’re a well known artist aren’t you? Wouldn’t you want the immortality of your name? I can guarantee that as well.” her nails dig into his skin as she speaks. “Or would you rather build an immense following? That’s something we can do for you too.”

We?

She stands up, smiling upon him. “Oh of course, you can’t speak.” She grabs his face, handling him roughly as she makes him look at him. “Dear, I know you’re powerless under my presence so I’ll offer you this until we meet again. Everything you want is yours, just as long as you submit to us.” Her nails dig into his skin once more and this time it’s starting to hurt. Her free hand trails down his back. “You won’t need the wings you’ve seen, you’ll have the throne right next to our leader.” With others, she leaves her mark, to prove that her visitation was no mere dream but a reality. That her words and promises were true to their ears, and that they’ve sworn an oath. As she was about to leave three parallel lines down his back, she feels her back burn.

The same burn that she felt when she fell.

So she lets out a pained shriek, letting go of the unmoving male and he lands back on his comforter like a discarded toy. He stares at her, questioning what had just happened.

He sees what causes her pain.

The feathers on her wings are singed. The feathers were slowly burning to a crisp until it reached the main body of her wings. The part of her wings that are closest to her skin are raw. As if someone had decided to peel off the top layer of skin in a swift manner. Her skin looked terrible, none of the horror films his members watch prepared him for such a scene. He doubted any film maker could come up with something so graphic and merciless. This is something beyond human comprehension.

The painful screams are so raw, so real, it sends chills down his bones. While he’s aware of how capable the throat is in creating sounds that thrust the listener into the deepest emotions, the screams carried years, if not centuries, of pain and anger.

Of all things that made him believe that there was something stronger out there, it was a fallen writhing in indescribable pain in front of his numb body. He didn’t know how she’s able to still stand, how she’s still conscious but all those are discarded when he meets her eyes.

It’s how she shoots icy daggers at him that makes him feel some sort of fear.

Primal fear.

“Just as powerful as the first bearer’s.” she hisses through pained sobs. That’s when he realizes she was indeed crying. Instead of transparent water that humans produce, her tears looked thicker, darker.

It looked like blood.

The two of them hear someone banging on his door, trying to budge it open. The lady-- the fallen takes her cue to escape.

“Mark my words, Star. We will find a way, know that your peace is temporary.” With that, she slips through the same window.

Somehow, Seonghwa believes those words. He worries how short lived his peace will be.

As she leaves, he regains control of his body. San and Hongjoong manage to barge into the room, greeted by the sight of a pale Seonghwa.

“What happened? We heard loud noises.” Hongjoong asks, then he spots the open window. “San, tell Eden we need to get this place reinforced.” The leader orders, as he shuts the window and locks it.

The eldest sits up from his bed and for the first time in the months of disturbed sleep, paranoia and confusion, he weeps. He weeps the pressure and pain he’s kept to himself over the past few months. The two couldn’t do anything, too surprised to see him break down all of a sudden. The anger has ebbed away and given away for him to feel the other emotions that he has suppressed.

No one knows how long it takes until Seonghwa manages to speak up. The other boys have woken up by the time he regains a bit of his composure. “The tour guide we had back in Spain, she’s one of them. The one who made me go for nights without sleep and anxiety.” He mumbles. He then recounts the first meeting, Hongjoong who was there but unaware wonders how they’re able to keep themselves from the eyes of others. The same question that Seonghwa poses for all of them. The way she manages to appear wherever she pleases, how he goes through sleep paralysis when she’s in the room as he sleeps. He tells them of her attempt to mark him, maybe as a warning to those who were in close proximity of him but just as he was about to feel the pain, she backs away, body twisting in pain.

It’s San’s turn to pale at his recounting. “I’m going to ask if my dad’s free. I’m not letting him drive here but a call with Eden-hyung would do soon.” He brings out his phone again, already typing up a message for his father.

“What for?” As far as everyone knew, his dad was just a pastor.

“Besides Eden-hyung, he knows what we’re dealing with. I think he might know what got her acting like that too.” San explains, waiting for the small number 1 to disappear from his message.

“Do you know?” Seonghwa stares at San. Following that logic, he does know his fair share of religious practices and the like.

“I think you got a mark. The name slips from my mind but it’s a strong mark and if I remember anything else, these fallen have a plan that they’ve been dealing with since their fall..” San trails off, keeping his phone for now, keeping his eyes trained on him.

“What does that even have to do with me?” He knows he’s got some sort of connection but the details are nonexistent in his mind.

“Hyung, I’m starting to think you’re going to be a vital piece to the safety of this world.”

#my writings #seonghwa scenarios #ateez scenarios #this is not an ateez x reader fic #also if you can catch some symbolisms then hehe #im not sure if i'll make this into a series as a i have other reqs to deal with #but if you want to talk about this fic then hmu #ateez fanfiction #slightly proof read #will proof read tomorrow

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mightyfineblog · 6 years ago

Text

‘Stand By Me’ -2-

Ben Hardy x Reader

Ch. 2

Series Summary: You are moving in your boyfriend’s flat. As you unpack, you remember the long road you two have walked down from when you met to where you are now.

Chapter Summary: Ben remembers your first date.

Warnings: none; fluff and kisses;

Words:1.8k

Song: Elton John – The Way You Look Tonight

So, here is it. Enjoy:

You pull Ben for another kiss, savouring his salty lips. He sweetly places small and soft pecks all over your mouth. From the cupid’s bow, to the edge of your lips, you hum and smile. Pulling away, his mouth follows yours.

“Babe” your hand stokes his cheek.

He flutters his eyes open and you meet him.

“What is it, baby doll?” he cocks his head to side, examining your state.

“I can’t wait for us to start our life together after everything we’ve been through.” your other hand holds his in your fist.

He smiles and pulls you by your wrist over him.

“Me too. We’ll be so good, as long as you’re standing by my side. Here.” he takes both of your hands and brings them up to his lips. While he places a kiss on each knuckle, you gasp

“I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” he murmurs between each kiss.

Untangling your fingers, he brings your palms to each side of his face. You smile at the view.

“What a sight! The man I love, right here in my hands.” you lean, not breaking contact to place a kiss on his lips. “Are we still going to dinner? As a living together couple?” you pull away, repositioning from his lap.

“If you want baby.” he bites his lip, spreading his body to the sides of the sofa.

“You know I do. I love getting all dolled up for you Ben.” you wink at him, sitting up from his lap.

“Hey.” his hand grabs a hold of your thigh, giving you a smirk “I love it you when you are all dirty.” he squeezes, making you jump a little.

“Me too Benny Boy, but not when its actual dirt from carrying boxes around all day.” you chuckle, spreading his legs apart. Situating between them you lean forward, arms supporting your weight on his knees, you give him another kiss on the lips.

“On a second thought…” he gives you bedroom eyes, as his hands wander up your bum.

“Oh, we’re not skipping dinner tonight Hardy! Call your mates, We’re celebrating. Since the place isn’t in shape for guests, it’ll be a nice restaurant.”

“You wish is my command princess.” He sweetly charms you up.

You press your lips together, letting him know you got his incline “What about the shower we talked about earlier?”

“We can take it together.” He lifts a suggestive brow.

“You know” you step back “I’d love run me a hot bath, with you in it” your hands glide over his chest, feeling his toned abs through the fabric.

“Exactly what I needed to hear.” He stands up.

Lifting your chin up, his thumb brushes over your lips, separating them a little “My pretty.”

“I’ll prep the bath. Make the phone call.” You kiss him tenderly.

After a few minutes you are dipped in the hot tub, leaning against your boyfriend’s chest. He brushes your hair to the side, revealing your back. Ben’s lips placing lingering kisses over your shoulder. He hums at your soft skin. Taking some foam, he gently spreads it over your back and shoulders, while rubbing them. You don’t hold back your moans, as his thumbs ease the soreness. He smiles letting out a small chuckle.

“Whaat? I’m sore as hell.”

“Nothing babe. Your moans are so cute.” He places a kiss on your cheek.

He adjusts himself and lays back with you on his chest wrapped in a cuddle. The foam tickling your bodies, it feels peaceful. It feels at home. It feels so good, so right.

“Hmm. Home.” Ben lets you rest in his arms.

“I didn’t quite know what home felt like until your arms were around me.” You confessed.

“Anywhere with you is home.” he nuzzled on your neck, leaving small kisses.

A smirk appears on the corner or Ben’s lips, a sweet memory surfacing up on his mind. One particular moment, at the beginning of your relationship.

…

November 2015,

Hammersmith, London, UK.

I can’t believe she lives in such shithole. The place is awfully disgusting. At least I’m taking her out tonight. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. The pure fact she agreed to this is a miracle of it’s own. It totally was worth ruining the burberry. Okay, serious now.

Suit? Dapper.

Time? Like a swiss train conductor.

Hair? Sleek.

Teeth? Clean and shiny.

There she comes. Scratch that. I’d let her ruin me in pieces. Damn those legs, so fine in that tight number she’s wearing.

Fuck, I’m staring, I’m staring. Not good Ben. Not good. I quickly divert my graze.

“It, it’s a wonderful night.” I quickly look up to the sky. She chuckles in response.

Phew. That was close.

“Are we going to the restaurant or are we staying here?” she observed.

“Of course not. It’s just, you look lovely.” I take her hand and place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Her skin is so soft against my lips, so delicate I might break her. She smiles warmly at me.

I open the door for her and can’t help but fall in thought at the sight. Her grace. Quickly running to the driver’s seat, I pop on and start the engine. It roars super manly, I bet girls dig that.

“Whoah!” she snickers.

“I thought I was a Mercedes guy, until I tried this baby.” I proudly pat the steering wheel.

After a while, i am sure she is convinced i’m a cool guy, my driving is good and I’m looking good tonight. Fingers crossed the night will go smooth and according to my plan.

I park outside the restaurant. Hopping off my seat, I hand the keys to the valet and rush to open the door for my lady.

I extend my arm for her and watch her as she steps out, lights revealing her beauty. The way she shines is more than enough to make a mall fall in love with her. I smile.

“Um, Ben.” she shrugs, “Why is everybody staring at me?” she shyly brings her head to my shoulder, while still holding my hand.

I hum and my smile turns into a smirk “Because they’re all jealous.” I lift my chin down to her ear.

“It’s alright. Let’s go inside.” I squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Wait!” she pulls me a step back. “I forgot my purse in the seat.” she nervously chuckles.

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll have the valet to bring it, yeah?”

She nods and turns around. I place my hand on the small of her back to prompt her forward.

As we make a few steps she seems to loose her confidence. That’s where I entwine my fingers with hers.

Once inside, away from the flashing cameras and people’s stares, we are seated by the panoramic window. It certainly is the best place in London to take a date. The food is amazing, the wine is heavenly and view is breathtaking. Well, not as much as she is. I just gotta keep it together and don’t mess this up. Everything else will be alright.

“When I agreed on a date with you, I definitely didn’t expect the whole package.” she ponders.

“I, I don’t know where to start my apologies. I like you and I’d hate myself if I ruin it for us.”

“Well, seems like we’re on the same page here” she winks at me.

“Sorry, what?” I don’t quite follow.

“I like you too.” her voice is soft and girly, like a sweet melody.

I exhale, eyes locked on the ground. I feel so embarrassed.

“Shall we order some food? I’m starving.” she brightens up.

“Oh and as for what comes with in the package, i think i can handle a few snaps.” she perks up “Just gotta make sure i show my nicer profile” she casually pages though the menu.

“And you’re not gonna run away?”

“For a few photos? Nope.” she concludes.

“You’re so adorable” i can’t help myself.

The rest of the dinner was very nice. She seems so intelligent and cute and funny and witty. But it’s time for my special plan to put in action.

“Dear, I’ve got another plan for tonight.” I stand up from the table.

“What? I haven’t even finished my glass of prosecco.” she chants.

“We’ll have plenty. Come with me, or we’ll be late.” i extend my arm to her “Trust me”

“Okay” she warningly replies.

On the elevator to the exit I decide to reveal my plan. “I’m taking you to theatre.”

“You are?” she gasps.

“Mhm.” I straighten up, feeling accomplished.

“Means you remembered. That I’ve never been.” she is wide eyes beside me.

“You gonna love it.” i squeeze her hand.

Once at the theatre we move around the grand lavish auditorium to find our seats. Thank god I have my connections with the theatre to be able to get us the best balcony seats.

“I’m so excited!” she claps her hands quietly, squirming on her seat.

“I’m glad.” i take her wrist and bring the back of her hand up to my lips. “There’s something about the way you look tonight. I can’t quite explain but, it takes my breath away. You, take my breath away.”

“Oh Ben.” she panted.

Before I knew it, her lips were on mine. Good lord, have mercy on me. She has the sweetest, cutest kissable little lips in the world. I can’t help but run the tip of my tongue along her bottom lip. She parts her lips and out tongues meet. I could die a happy man right here, right now.

But i also got to remember we’re in public, so I pull away slightly, but she follows. She probably is as eager as me at this moment.

“Hey” I cup her cheek. “I can kiss you all night long, but there’s older people around.”

“Of course” she nervously chuckles, returning her fixed posture on her seat.

Soon after the start, I couldn’t pay any more attention to the stage. My eyes are glued on her. Watching her watch is all the joy I can feel. I study every little expression of her face, every little squirm she does. The way she’s holding my hand in her lap for reassurance suddenly feels like home.

…

“Babe” you brush your fingers along Ben’s cheek. “You must be so tired Benny.”

“Huh?. What? No I’m awake” he shakes his head.

“I love you” you lean in to place a kiss on his nose.

“Let’s go to dinner, shall we?” you mess with his damp hair.

“Mhm” he nods at you.

Exiting the bath you both roll into fluffy robes to get ready for your first dinner as living together couple.

____

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