#fantasy au oneshot

[thinemoonshine]

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love' type: mini series word count: 10.4k

seven nobles who are corrupt meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

𝒮unghoon scoffs incredulously at his friend, Jongseong’s, decision to sneak into the prostitute house through the back door. “Don’t tell me you’re still playing the role of the refined, virtuous young lord?”

Jongseong clicks his tongue with a frown as he turns his face away from his deprecating friend. “I have to. If I wish to be the head of my house, I have to maintain a polished reputation. My father sees to it that I will.”

The young can only roll his eyes though a ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. “Oh, and you’re doing a very good job with that, aren’t you?”

“How is it that you’ve managed to keep your wickedness hidden?” Jaeyun asks with an arch of his brow.

“Because I’m smart,” Jongseong shamelessly confesses as he faces them once more. “I only use those with either nothing to gain…or everything to lose if they were to be acquainted with me—that includes the ladies.”

The other five of his friends, excluding Riki and Sunoo who seem to be disinterested in their venereal subjects, only stay silent at the side—arms crossed and deadpanned.

“Well then, the three of us will proudly enter through the main door while you have to sneak around like a little rat for daddy,” Heeseung mocks to which Jongseong frowns at but he tells no falsity.

He then turns to the youngest three with hands in his pockets. “What about you lot?”

Riki wraps an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders with a playful smirk. “We plan to watch them dance. They have a performance tonight.”

“And we’ve gotten the VIP tickets,” Won adds and pulls out two slips making Seong knit his brows.

“Only two?”

Sunoo raises a hand. “I’m staying out. The aromas they they use are headache inducing.”

“Suit yourself,” the oldest of the bunch says casually with a shrug before they all haughtily enter the establishment in the red district.

The lone member sigh watches them disappear before he retreats to the lively booths that line the roads. Various savoury smells and appetizing images of food bring delight—rekindling his spirit for fun. He’s always been fond of all types of delicacies.

“What would you like, young man?” The vendor asks Sunoo who so conspicuously eyes the food at his stall with stars in his eyes.

The customer grins happily, ear-to-ear before he speaks. “All of it!”

—

“I’ve eaten too much, ugh,” Sunoo groans and pats on the waistband of his high-waisted trousers that make his every move uncomfortable. Even breathing is distasteful with each inhale causing his slight bloated abdomen to strain against the band.

As he walks at the side of the now much serene and isolated street as it’s nearer the exit of the district, he halts in his steps at the sigh of a maiden standing near the shore of the sea.

She’s clothed in a ragged dress with the hems either disintegrated or chewed away by ants and its colour has faded to the point where one can’t exactly discern its original hue—whether grey or brown or beige or even white.

Furthermore, she lacks shoes—standing with her feet bare against the sand as she blankly stares at the water that rolls towards her toes but not close enough to touch.

Sunoo scowls, disturbed and mainly disgruntled by seeing an obtrusively nameless, untitled woman who so clearly does not belong in the festive and enchanting district. He’s about to turn away but the maiden does so first—meeting his glare that instantly softens to be filled with astonishment.

He’s awestruck.

The beauty the lass beholds is unlike any other. With eyes as clear and scintillating as the full moon yet deep and secretive like the depth of the seas, dewy skin that shimmers beneath the light, cheeks that bloom radiantly with life and lips pulled to the loveliest smile that the young noble has ever seen—she is mesmerizing.

So bewitching that it enthralls him—his every senses—to the point that he believes that she might not be human.

And for someone renowned as one of the most irresistible and pursued men of the time, that statement holds no exaggeration.

“What a beaut!” A man suddenly comes by with his friend. The two are dressed in fine suits and adorned with ostentatious accessories, displaying their wealth and rank in the social class yet their behaviour juxtaposes them.

Their faces are flushed and hair all tousled, clearly blotto.

“Which company are you from, huh?” The man hiccups as he approaches the mysterious girl who’s now focused on the pair. “Pretty girl like you wearing crappy clothes like this in this place can only mean two things.”

She remains still and silent with head lifted to look up at the taller man looming over her.

“One, you ran away. Two, you got thrown out because you’re not ‘performing’ well. Not…satisfying enough,” he continues with a drunken chuckle while his friend snickers.

The first sound emits from the girl when the latter roughly grasps her jaw in his hand, causing her to gasp. He hums as his eyes narrowed onto her. “DANG! With this typa face, tho! You’re too precious to he thrown! You ran away, huh?”

She takes a step back.

“No, no, don’t you dare run,” the man growls and now grapples her by the shoulder with his free hand. His face expresses displeasure but it soon shifts to a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we find out ourselves, hm? If there really is something wrong with ya.”

His hand unlatches from her jaw to travel down her neck to her collarbones and Sunoo, the only witness to the whole scene, turns on his heels to walk away.

‘She’s ravishing, but she’s still a shameful, used woman with nothing to her name,’ he thinks vainly and begins to step away. ‘Whatever happens is not my responsibility—and none will care either way.’

He begins his stroll but is compelled to turn once more at the sound of a painful grunt and he’s met with the view of the young woman biting the hand of her assaulter that rests on her shoulder before she kicks the other in his shin.

And with another swift motion, she retrieves an auger shell from the sand below them before slashing its sharp tip against their faces—almost stabbing one of them in the eye which leads to him stumbling backwards and crashing onto his arse.

“YOU WHXRE!!” The one on his feet roars with pure wrath and the gaze in his bloodshot eyes is baneful. He plans to end the girl right where she stands.

But just as many times before, she stays mute and skillfully dodges him with a mere bend to the side—his drunken self too wobbly to move as agile as he wishes. And right when his back faces her from his reckless offense, she stabs the shell into the flesh of his back without a single blink. Once, twice—and thrice.

His wail of pain cuts through the tranquility of the night as he falls onto his palms and knees into the water. Blood flows rapidly from his three wounds despite them being quite tiny. She dug them deep enough.

“Take him with you,” is all the girl says to the one trembling with fright and thus, forced to sobriety—his face blanched and the centre front of his trousers carrying a warm, dark patch.

He pathetically crawls to his injured friend and carries him onto his back before hasting away like a scurrying rodent.

She who remains behind observes as they further away before dropping the bloody shell and inhaling, exhaling, as if to calm herself—ignoring the second presence who stares her from afar with wonder in his widened eyes and cheeks in a faint rosy tint.

He already found her entrancing enough by a mere glance, but now, seeing what she’s capable of, seeing how a true gem she is, he’s utterly spellbound. And he truly must be because he’s completely unaware of her approach until she stands before him with an arm’s length between them.

“Why did you not aid me?” She queries and the sound of her voice tickles his ears, causing his hair to rise and his insides tingle with a rush of sparks he’s never felt before. “Why leave?”

Sunoo looks down at her as his breaths slow, the adrenaline that courses through him from just watching her beginning to calm. “…There was no reason for me to help. You are an insignificant stranger and neither did saving you will benefit me in any way.”

“How cruel,” she says yet, those words hold no criticism or any sort of sentiment. It’s simply a statement, an observation and still, the softness and tune of her voice in which she uses to speak—a most subtle raise in pitch at the end—makes it seem as if she’s…amused. “It’s a shame you think of me in such way when I think of you so highly.”

The other maintains his position as she takes a small step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I was hoping to gain your attention. I’ve been seeing you since before, Sunoo,” she continues and her knowledge of his name befuddles him. He should be interrogating her, demand answers as to how she knows of his identity however, the fact that she seems to be interested in him outweighs any other thought.

His face mantles and long pretty lashes framing his foxy eyes flutter at his flustered rapid blinking. “Y-you have?”

She nods her head and he’s never seen someone conduct a simple action so gracefully, especially so with that sweet smile that resides on her face. “I think you’re a very noble man, Sunoo. To leave your friends as they fall victim to their insatiable desires… You are different.”

Sunoo is uncertain what it is about her words, but they always squeeze his heart as butterflies emerge in his stomach. And those gorgeous eyes…the bat of her lashes as she looks up at him, the unwavering tenderness in her gaze and undivided attention—it’s unalike any of the many, many he’s received in his life.

He wants more. He wants her. And if acting as a righteous, refined young lord is what it takes to ensnare her, he can play the role for as much as he needs to.

“It must be cold, isn’t it—to wear such a thin dress in this night breeze?” He begins and wears a beguiling smile that never fails to swoon those around him. “If you don’t mind, would you allow me to gift you with a few warm coats and dresses?”

The maiden shakes her head as she turns away. “It is fine. There is no place for me to put them, anyways.”

At this, the noble’s brows raise. “Do you…not have a place to stay?”

Her silence confirms his suspicion and as vile as it is, a sense of relief and delight fill him. An opportunity strikes.

Suppressing the urge to let his smile tilt to a cunning smirk, she asks the girl.

“Then, would you like to stay in my residence for the time being? There are plenty of rooms to offer and I would not mind the company…if you will have me.”

The other lifts her head to him and the expression on her face already tells him of her decision—widening his grin.

—

“He ditched us without a single notice and now he’s disappeared for a whole 2 weeks cooped up in his home?? That’s awfully suspicious, wouldn’t you think so?” Jongseomg clicks his tongue harshly, both annoyed and worried for one of their youngest as he stomps up the former’s grand staircase.

Being friends with one another has its perks, one of them being that they don’t require to send letters to inform them of their visits—their doors always open to each other.

“Maybe he’s been occupied with all his lessons? He told me he’s been slacking,” Jaeyun tries to assuage the older’s frustration but his only response is ignorance.

Five figures trail behind him and their paces fasten when they reach Sunoo’s floor. Their soles brushing against the squeaky clean tiles create rushed, dissonant shuffles and footsteps.

But before they can venture further down the corridor to his room, they’re forced to a halt at an unfamiliar sight—or to be exact, an unfamiliar person.

Slipping out of her room is a girl accoutred in a silk white dress that shimmers softly at every sway, its fabric hugging her chest, following the shape of her bosom down to her waist while its long skirt flows down in freely—allowing for as much stretch of her legs as she wishes.

Butterfly sleeves hide a majority of her upper arms with a sheer fabric layering the silk, creating a more sophisticated and elegant form. Her further adornments consist of a snowy gold bustier corset top to accentuate her frame while the frills that are sewn onto its upper edge give the illusion of being a part of the butterfly sleeves—making it seem as if she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress.

Her ensemble is an immaculate combination of extravagance and yet gracefulness. Whoever made it is surely an exquisite tailor.

Although, the 6 young men would know nothing about it considering they’re not able to dwell on her dress as they’re too busy gawking at the ethereal damsel that stands before them. They’ve seen many women before—some even doing more than seeing—and yet, they’re confident to declare that they’ve never seen one quite like her.

She’s breathtaking in a way where it’s inhuman. As if she’s an extraterrestrial being—or a creature of myth that tends to lure unprotected, vulnerable men like they are at the moment just to bring them to their demise.

A lethal beauty.

Unlike them however, (y/n) merely shifts her glance between them just to identify. Not once does her eyes widen and sparkle nor do her cheeks flush from the fluster of meeting such unrealistically gorgeous young men who can instantly bring anyone—and anything—below their feet.

“(y/n), why did you—Oh,” Sunoo sounds—tone shifting from curious to blunt indifference.

His presence that exits from the same chamber (y/n) emerged from instantly rouse suspicion and intrigue in his friends.

Jaeyun scoffs. “So, this is what this was all about? You’ve found yourself a woman and decide that you’d rot in your mansion with her—neglecting your own friends?”

Sunoo frowns as he shields (y/n) from their prying, scrutinizing eyes. He was never one to really care about their reprimands. “Neglect? It’s not like you’re all under my care. I’m not your parent who needs to coddle you.”

“Kim Sunoo, you know that isn’t what we mean,” Heeseung rebukes, a sharp and fierce glare on his otherwise doe eyes. “You vanished for 2 weeks with not a single word!”

“Do I need to inform you of my activities?” The younger hisses with his own eyes whetting and things would have escalated from the fire growing in the two if it isn’t for (y/n) placing a hand against her host’s arm.

His glower softens almost immediately as he shifts his focus onto the girl—his instant sickening his friends.

(y/n)’s voice is gentle, airy like the morning breeze as well as clear and alluring like the glistens of the water surface from the shining moonlight—charming one to stay and watch the waters glitter.

Or in terms of voice, seducing one to not just remain and hear but listen—just as how they all fall into an unanimous quiet.

“Should I leave?" She asks, shocking Sunoo terribly as dread fills him. The idea itself is horrifying. "It seems I might have overstayed my welcome."

Sunoo shakes his head vigorously. "No, no! Don't leave! I—They are just being rude, they know nothing."

His frantic behaviour that drips with desperation is both amusing and astonishing to his friends who have never seen him act so...pathetic before. He's always been the embodiment of sophistication, of grace to the point that it's boastful at times.

(y/n) looks up at him nervously, her brows tilted with worry. "But—"

"(y/n)," her host cuts her off as he cups her cheek, thumb caressing her skin tenderly. "Don't fret, hm? This is all just a small argument between my friends and I. Why don't you go back in and practice the new piece I taught you?"

Seeing no reason to refute, the girl nods and returns to the room she exited from with quiet nimble footsteps.

Sunoo's gaze that was warm and endearing turns frigid and stern the moment she disappears and he turns his head to his friends. "I'm not going to entertain this useless bicker between us so I suggest we digress. Leave, stay, I don't care what you do as long as you don't disturb us again. (y/n) is my guest and she will remain here for as long I will her and none of you are to defy that."

With one last warning glare, he turns away to join (y/n) whose melodious play can be hear from the momentary opening of the door before Sunoo slams it shut.

A deafening silence overtakes until Jaeyun clears his throat.

"You heard what he said so who's up for an impromptu sleepover?" He suggests with a playful, wide grin as he wiggles his dark brows at the others.

—

It's so fun being powerful. They can make anything happen with a flick of the wrist or a snap of their fingers. With just a simple order from them, those around them easily oblige—eager to execute every command. Just how they need not to lift a finger while their servants back home are panicked—rushing to pack clothes and other necessities for their young masters who so suddenly sent a letter informing them of their plans of staying at Master Sunoo's abode.

Jongseong scoffs as he recalls his maids and butlers running from the gates the moment their carriage arrived and pretending to be all calm and collected as they stood in front of him—as if their skin wasn't glistening with sweat and breaths weren't heavy as they pant.

Knock, knock!

He furrows at the abrupt interruption of his reminiscence and sits up on the bed to face the door. "Who is it?"

"It's (y/n)," the entrancing voice from before promptly straightens his posture as he springs onto his feet.

Clearing his throat and neatening his shirt while approaching the door, he abruptly halts at the ridiculousness of his own behaviour. Why is he trying to impress a poor, insignificant girl anyways? He already heard the talk from the servants on how Sunoo randomly brought her home while she was still in her rags and completely barefoot.

"What is it?" He utters with a heavy sigh as soon as he opens the door.

"Would you like some tea? I made it myself," (y/n) asks with a hopeful mien, eyes sparkling and lips in a small smile.

The other cocks up a brow skeptically. "You know how to brew tea?"

"I watched," she answers, deepening his skepticism.

Another long, unamused sigh leaves him. "Just get in."

She enters cheerily and sets down the tray on his little tea table while watches behind with arms crossed and gaze sharp.

“I thought it would be a nice welcome. Sunoo taught me that it’s good etiquette,” (y/n) says as she pours him a cup of warm tea with calculated, precise movements—shocking him, to be honest—and placing it down in front of him without a single tremor. “I hope you find it to your liking.”

Jongseong scoffs at his futile wish. He’s one of the most picky when it comes to his meals—always thinking none of is good enough and that includes how he enjoys his tea.

He had to personally teach his servants how to brew and how much sugar to be used to actually make one fitting his palate and even then, they still can’t satisfy him.

After a few gentle blows to cool down the hot drink, he brings the brim of the cup to his lips for his first sip and once again, receives another surprise. It’s…splendid. Such aroma and perfect balance between tea and sugar that spreads perfectly on his tongue and warming him from the inside—akin to sitting in front of the hearth during winter.

He lifts his gaze to meet with (y/n)’s as he lags to utter the words in his head—all of them jumbled from both disbelief and yet, amazement. “How did you make this? It’s exactly as how I prefer it to be.”

“I…um, I actually asked your servant beforehand on how you typically enjoy your tea,” (y/n) timidly answers as she stares at her fiddling fingers on her lap. “I apologize for not asking you myself and instead, intruding on your privacy.”

Strangely, he doesn’t mind very much although usually he would find it offensive that someone is investigating him through his servants. Instead, he finishes the rest of his tea before passing to her on its small plate. “Pour me some more.”

His request rekindles a discernible light onto her face as she physically perks up—eyes upturning and corners of her lips curling as she obliges. And Jongseong can’t help but admit that she looks…adorable.

For him to be able to control her mood with a few words or actions, he finds it amusing and truly lovable—so much so that he doesn’t notice how much time has passed with her sharing her experience living at the mansion while he merely sits and listen with a gentle smile retained on her face.

Only when the room darkens to the point the cups in front of them are almost unseen and their faces are shadowed does he finally, take note of the time.

“Oh! I’ve taken too much of your time. I should leave now,” (y/n) exclaims with alarm as she rushes to her feet while collecting all their cups and biscuits back onto the silver tray. With hands on her stomach, she then bows at Jongseong respectfully, bidding him goodbye before she lifts the tray and out she goes.

The lone man remains in his room as his servant enters to light the candles and lamps before leaving him to his own devices.

As much as he enjoys the silence, he never knew how lonely it can be…until today.

Strolling through the corridor is (y/n) who’s reminiscing her conversation with her guest before and a smile stretches itself onto her face. A glint sparks in her eye and a passing Sunghoon espies the ambiguous expression she wears but she disappears down the stairs quickly, ridding him of the opportunity to observe more.

His luxuriant dark brows knit in wonder as he returns to his room.

—

The next day is just like any other for (y/n)—awaking at the sounds of cheery chirping birds, freshening up with the help of her designated servants and getting dressed with the outfit of her choice before she leaves to have her daily etiquette lesson with Sunoo.

One might think she’s the lady of the house from the way she’s treated by the staff and to even be privately tutored by the young master himself—that’s the grandest, most gracious gesture he’s ever done for anyone at all.

But to think she’s only a nobody picked up from the street, it’s a cultural shock to others.

“Good morning, Sunoo,” (y/n) greets Sunoo who’s already waiting for her on the windowsill as he stares at the sunny view outside. “Will we pick up from yesterday’s lesson?”

The noble lad turns to her, his eyes already scintillating with adoration as he approaches her with long, calculated steps. “How about we take a break today? The day is beautiful outside.”

His suggestion excites the other who nods vigorously and he giggles with contentment—hand reaching up to fix her hair and trailing his fingers to the side of her face to warmly press his palm against it.

Electrifying tingles bloom in his chest when she reciprocates his affection by leaning against his hand, her eyes shutting briefly before they open to look up at him.

Sunoo feels his breath hitch. She always does this to him. Every single time. He initiates the intimacy and yet at the end he’s the one breathless and desperate for more, craving for her touch and wanting her to want him just as he does to her.

“I’ll tell the servants to prepare you favourite pastries and tea. Wait for me in the garden veranda, hm?”

She nods and he reluctantly slips his hand away, leaving him feeling cold and bare as he yearns for her warmth and comfort once more.

(y/n) casually makes her way to the garden, humming one of the sweet melodies Sunoo taught her to play on the piano as she ambles.

An air of peace and joy encompasses her, disregarding the predatory eyes that ominously tracks her every move from behind a tall bush. His hand rests on the side of the prickly leaves as he stalks the naive prey.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as a sardonic smirk reveals itself when he sees her stop at the veranda–taking his first step towards her.

“I thought you had lessons,” Heeseung begins and the girl spins on her heels.

Her brows twitch upwards subtly at his unexpected presence. “Yes, I was supposed to. But Sunoo thought it was better to enjoy the sunny weather today.”

“‘Sunoo?’” The male repeats, intrigued by the fact that she’s on a first-name basis with the oh, so majestic Kim Sunoo. He scoffs—though, not of demeaning nature. “I see you address him using casual terms. Will it be improper of me to ask you to do the same for me?”

(y/n) tilts her head, puzzled and he continues.

“Lee Heeseung, that is my name. But you will just call me Heeseung.”

Her lips form an ‘o’ in understanding before she beams brightly—fingers pinching the sides of her skirt to slightly lift them up and perform a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to know you, Heeseung. My name is (y/n).”

“Just (y/n)? No family name?” Heeseung furrows. He knows her origins are obscure but he expected her to at least, be aware of the name of her kin. However, the nod of her head answers his curiosity. And somehow…he favours her even more because of it. “I’ve been told on how Sunoo found you near the edge of the red district unaccompanied and lost. It must have been terrifying.”

The girl’s gaze travels down to her shoes before back up at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…”

Heeseung translates her uncertainty as meekness however—a sign of vulnerability—and he’s more than glad to be the pillar of her strength if it meant she’ll lean onto him. “You can tell me anything, (y/n). I’ll be there whenever you need someone to talk to.”

His hands gather hers before he clasps them together, swallowing them completely and a shaky breath escapes him at the sight. With eyes swirling with ambition, he looks into hers with feign empathy—doe eyes feigning innocence and goodwill as he closes the distance between them.

“Will you let me? (y/n)?” He ask—no, pleads, almost as he continues his pretense of a selfless hero. He lowers himself to a slight extent as to not intimidate her by looming over her completely though, it fives not much of a difference. His frame still shadows away the sun from her anyways, leaving her with dim lighting as she’s nearly caged by him.

The maiden smiles softly before nodding although remaining quiet and Heeseung immediately lets out a breath of relief. For a moment there, her stillness seemed to suggest rejection but she must have merely been nervous.

“Why are you acting so benevolent suddenly?”

Her question takes him aback and he stammers, “P-pardon?”

His gaze falls from her face to their hands when she slowly slips hers out to rest them onto his larger ones—thumb softly drawing circles onto his skin which brings desirable shivers down his spine.

“I know how you are. I’ve seen you. Committing all those criminal acts, indulging yourself in dirty riches and greedy gambles as you find pleasure in women that you deem worthless thus, undeserving of any care or compassion—and neither do you give any compensation for those that you’ve treated with injustice,” (y/n) speaks with an eloquence that leaves no room for debate. She isn’t just reiterating all those rumours she might have heard but she is fully cognizant of every word she speaks, of every allegation that they are nothing but truths.

Heeseung is struck by a turmoil of emotions: displeased and offended by her unvarnished tongue yet at the same time wonderstruck by her character that completely goes against his initial impression.

“You…! I thought you were of low origins? You should not be aware of anything regarding the aristocracy!” Heeseung hisses as he snatches his hands back in attempt to conceal his disconcerted demeanor.

But (y/n) retains her sangfroid as she lets her arms relax onto her sides. With a pretty smile gracing her pretty face, her lips part to speak pretty, pretty words.

“If your genteel veneer is merely a pathetic attempt to lure me, then I’d very much prefer it if you were to bare your teeth and spit your venom into my tea,” she says in a whispery tune, just enough for both him and her to hear. She then lifts her hand up to trail her feathery touches down from his neck to his chest—paralyzing him as he shudders with unashamed titillation.

His eyelids fluttering and breath hitching as she smirks deviously, an image even Sunoo has yet to be graced with.

A kittenish giggle escapes her and the sound of it ignites him—hair rising and pants tightening especially when she pulls him down by the nape to whisper.

“Because at least then, you might have the chance to ensnare me with your sincere wickedness rather than your feeble, futile attempt to be a saint,” she snaps and he groans at the feel of her lips lightly grazing the shell of his ear before she pushes him away. “Sunoo will be here soon. I suggest you leave.”

Poor Heeseung’s head is much too dazed and fogged to respond as he drunkenly drags himself away with a painful throb in his lower region and skin flushed red as he replays his moment with her again and again in his head.

(y/n) is a pretty woman, the most gorgeous he has ever laid eyes upon—but she is as lethal as she is beautiful. And what unraveled just minutes ago shows him that she is so much more capable than what she seems. This is mere child’s play.

And he wants to know everything about her.

—

“But young master, this amount may be overwhelming for the villagers. Some of them may not be able to afford this,” Yoo, Sunoo’s aide, voices his concerns after receiving the list of demands from the noble.

Nevertheless, Sunoo remains quiet as his eyes sharpen at the sheet he vigorously writes on—burning the letters with his fervent glare. “They live and conduct their business on our property thus, it’s only fair that they should comply with our rules and commands.”

“However, this is too sudden! Would it not be best for you to grant them a period of time to prepare their payment?”

“Father has instructed me to collect a certain amount during his leave and although I do admit that I have been negligent in fulfilling his wishes, it is justified as I have more priorities to tend to.”

The aide bites his tongue from blurting out a name at his master’s mention of ‘priorities.’ Clearly, his priorities are—is, actually, (y/n) alone.

From tutoring her personally to spoiling her with endless jewels and clothing—even calling over one of the most renowned tailor in town—and spending his day and nights with her behind closed door doing what ever it is they are doing.

Yoo doesn’t blame (y/n), of course. If anything, he thinks she has been one of the sweetest characters he has ever been graced with. However, he can’t deny that she is a great distraction to his master.

“Young master Sunoo—” He attempts to begin another argument.

“Aide Yoo,” Sunoo abruptly interrupts with his voice only slightly raised but the lowness of its pitch that’s inordinate for one who’s typically said to be akin sunshine causes the other to tremble. He gulps as his face blanches with fright.

The noble gently puts his quill down but his following acts are anything but—with a gaze so banefully intent that threatens to almost kill, he perturbs the assistant. “It seems you are mistaken. I’ve passed that document to you not to hear your thoughts but for you to simply relay it to the village. What is so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“I-I was only trying to help, my lord.”

“Well, it’s futile and in all honesty, irritating. Now leave for (y/n) will be arriving soon—and by then, no one is permitted to enter my study,” Sunoo commands with a hiss to which the aide instantly bows at before scurrying out.

He shuts the door behind him as quiet as possible but nearly screams his lungs out at the sight of (y/n) who’s standing by the entrance. “(y-y/n), Master Sunoo is waiting for you.”

With another small bend at the waist, Yoo dashes away to promptly finish his assignment and the girl slips into the chamber.

Seeing her is like a breath of fresh air for Sunoo and he instantly rises to his feet before rushing to the maiden—seizing her into his arms and laying his head against her crown.

“(y/n), my lovely (y/n)…” He mumbles and the other says nothing, only patting his back in a slow, calming rhythm—its sensation quietening the loud noises in his stressful mind. “Come.”

She follows obediently, letting herself be lead to the couches before he sits them both down. After straightening her gown for her, Sunoo coils his arms below her waist and lays his head against his chest—listening to her heartbeat as if it’s a lullaby.

A small smile graces his face as his breaths slow to relax.

(y/n) gazes down at him momentarily, trailing down his features and tracing their shapes before turning her head to his overfilled desk with its surface covered in sheets after sheets of documents. He’s slacked far too much to spend his time with (y/n).

And the knowledge of that brings a content smile to her face. She has him right where she wants him.

“Busy?” She asks quietly, almost in a whisper to not interrupt the tranquility that encases them.

Sunoo nods, bottom lip sticking out unconsciously at the reminder of his despair. “Father is returning in two weeks. I have many works to settle before then.”

(y/n) hums in acknowledgment as her fingers begin to comb through his dark brown locks, causing pleasurable tugs onto his scalp and he almost purrs in delight—nuzzling more against her bosom as he raises slightly to feel more of her touch. “My poor Sunoo.”

A love arrow straight to his heart.

She’s accepted him. She’s regarded him as hers. It was always him to express his affections, him to initiate the meetings and now, she’s finally welcomed him into her world. Oh, how blessed does he feel. Suddenly, all that pile of work on his desk doesn’t seem so daunting—his being now buzzing with bliss.

And (y/n) certainly knows that. From the way his smile widens, apple of his cheeks glow in a rosy hue and eyes visibly upturned even while shut, he’s overjoyed. Using her other hand, she begins to outline the features of his soft, angelic visage, mourning at the fact that he’s not as sweet as he looks. Still, she’s grown quite attached.

“(y/n),” he calls suddenly. She hums in response, urging him to continue. “What am I to you?”

It’s this question. It’s not frequent but some of her previous victims have too, inquired her the same and with each, she answers differently. An answer she knows has to be believable, not too exaggerated but not too humble and yet impactful enough to occupy his head and ring in his ears—hypnotizing them to believe her fondness of them is sincere.

And for Sunoo, it’s simply too easy.

“You’re my saviour,” she purrs and the allure of her voice upends the hair on his skin and his body quivers ever so slightly as eyes flutter open with surprise and yet, admiration. The pounding of his heart only heightens at the sight of her already looking at him with the most endearing smile cast on her lovely countenance—eyes swirling with an ambiguity but nevertheless, warmth for him.

His own stare softens, melting into hers as they search her face for any hint of falsity—rejoicing internally upon seeing none and his body lifts to place his plush lips on hers for the briefest of moments.

And yet that single second felt like heaven to him.

The feel of her bare skin against his mouth ignites a desire in him he never knew he had, overtaking his senses and ridding him of every thought—the heavy longing for her growing with every breath wasted not having her and it festers inside him, eating away so quickly he feels he might shrivel and perish.

But he can’t yield to it—not now. He might scare (y/n) away, especially after her confessing her heart, professing to him of her trust and devotion by calling him her hero, her knight in shining armor. He might ruin his chances before he even completely captures her heart.

He titters at the surprise painted on the girl’s face and he lifts his hand to caress her cheek with the gentlest of touches. “And I shall be for as long as you wish.”

—

“The fish tell me you’re an exquisite skater.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit as he turns to face the owner of the lulling—yet, with a touch of mischief—voice. “The fish?”

She nods and directs her gaze to the large man-made pond at which he crouches beside. “They tell me you tend to skate here when the water freezes over as you find yours at your own home not as freeing.”

The noble readies to stand but decides against it when the girl joins his side—mindless of the ends of her dress that drape onto the grass as she gazes longingly at the water. “Is that so? What else do these fish tell you?”

(y/n) smiles, as if amused that he seeks to know more despite the ridiculousness of her statements. As an underwater creature, it is a norm for her to speak to marine life but the same can’t be said for a creature of land. “That you possess an extravagant beauty among your kind.”

At this, a corner of his lips twitch to a smirk of intrigue. “And? What do you say?”

Her stare shifts to the man’s reflection cast onto the still water’s surface. “I wouldn’t say I’m against it.”

Her indirect yet direct admission of his beauty makes his smirk widen into a grin and he too, turns to look at the pond.

‘What a shame. A beautiful woman and yet, disturbed by her own insanity,’ he thinks and exhales through his nose. But the smile on his face doesn’t falter. ‘Well, she isn’t completely useless.’

Of all the women Sunghoon has shared his bed with, none are comparable to the woman who now sits a mere forearm’s length away from him. If he plays things right, he might be able to have her tonight.

“So you think I’m handsome?” He asks boldly and (y/n) nods but still keeps her attention to the small fish swimming. “Then, why don’t you look at me?”

His question prompts her to do exactly that—to look at him—and she’s abruptly met with his deep gaze boring into hers. He smiles at her obedience. “Tell me, what you like about me.”

For a moment, a silence encases the two with the exception of the occasional chirps of birds and faint rustles of the flora dancing into one another with the help of the wind.

She's attentive towards him, eyes fixed on his face and although Sunghoon knows that she's only finding the answer to his question, he can't help but feel slightly abashed—tips of his ears turning red as his apple bobs in his throat from the fluster.

"You remind me of winter," (y/n) finally responds and he blinks, nearly missing her answer if it isn't for her tilting her head at the notice of his straying mind.

He clears his throat to gather his voice. "Are you a fan of the season?"

"I suppose. The cold and snow refreshes me in comparison to hot, drying summer," the girl explains briefly and once again turns away to look at the pond—making him frown.

The lack of attention from her is beginning to vex him. What's so interesting about a pond and its small swimming fish? Obviously, nothing much—especially with the Park Sunghoon existing in the same space. He's far more eye-catching and valuable than a pool of water.

He retains his composure however, knowing that he can't lose his head if he wants to succeed in his objective. "You must be good friends with the fish seeing as how you're so engrossed by them."

His comment earns him a soft chuckle and he'd be lying if he said the saccharine sound doesn't placate him. The twinkle in his eyes and fangs peeking from below his top lip as he smiles are telltale signs.

"You're so silly. I was more of looking at the water. My close fish friends are at sea anyways," she answers truthfully but Sunghoon believes it as another one of her crazy talk.

And in order to win her heart, he chooses to entertain them. "Must be lovely to have friends from so many places. I take it that they're very cordial?"

The girl nods and her face suddenly lights up as her figure perks. Sunghoon watches with puzzlement as she reaches into a seamlessly hidden pocket at the side of her dress before pulling out her fist and offering it to the noble.

One of the latter's dark, luxuriant brows arches with skepticism—that is, until she uncurls her fingers to reveal the three irregularly shaped pearls resting on her palm.

Even when they're not in perfect circles, they are still priceless and beautiful—white coats carrying a pearly sheen that shines at every light and the rawness of their forms create an exquisite uniqueness that Sunghoon has never seen on any other jewel. An inestimable grandeur.

"I received these from my friends but now that I see them, I feel that they would be in much better hands in yours," (y/n) claims as she gently places the three orbs onto his opened palm. Eyes upturned and smile bright, she looks at him with an apparent eagerness. "With such smooth porcelain skin, you seem to be a pearl yourself."

Sunghoon is unable to retort a witty remark, nor can he muster a scoff—captivated by the girl as he admires her limitless geniality. How can one be so unconditionally kind and sweet to a naive extent? To casually grant one with prized possessions simply because she thought they would look better on him. It's foolish—and yet, he finds it so foolishly lovable.

Stretching his lips to a smile, he's finally able to let out a small chuckle. "Are you sure your friends won't be upset with you by giving these to me?"

(y/n) shakes her head and stands—hands dusting her skirt and straightening it before she turns towards the mansion.

"How are you sure?" Sunghoon asks once more as he too, rises to his feet and now towering over the other.

The latter titters and brings her hands behind her back, clasping them together as she begins her amble. "Because I ate them."

It's like every single gear in his head has stopped and all senses numbed apart from his hearing as her voice—her answer echoes in his ears like an enchantment.

'She...ate them?' He mentally thinks and yet, instead of feeling horrified or even mildly perturbed, the hunger he's felt since before only grows—bubbling and boiling in his stomach up to his chest and throat as it urges him to just seize the defenseless girl in front of him.

To paint her skin with his tongue and relishing in her taste, coating every surface with his moisture before sinking his teeth and leaving conspicuous dents of his fangs as to mark her, warning any other who dares to approach. He craves to own her, to make her his and his alone and have her sing and scream his name so frequently that it becomes the only word she knows—to be the only one she recognizes.

Oh, how terribly starved he is for her.

"Are you not returning? The sky will darken soon," the girl asks as she twirls to him slightly—skirt swaying and hair flowing in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear to reveal her face. Her pure eyes staring curiously at him as she awaits his answer.

Sunghoon gulps, both mind and heart turning erratic as he struggles to remain composed and stoic despite his flawless performance throughout the years.

"Sunghoon?"

He throbs with need at the sound of her voice calling his name and his lashes flutter from his shaking lids, dazed and mesmerized by just a simple gesture from her before he nods his head with a stutter.

A gone man.

—

Jaeyun melts into (y/n)’s hands that play with his hair—braiding and twirling the dark locks with her fingers, delivering delicious, gentle tugs onto his crown—and his eyes are shut tight as he relishes in the feeling.

It all happened so quickly, unexpectedly, for him and (y/n) to become close. All it took was him loitering in the garden one afternoon from boredom and (y/n) inviting him to join her lone picnic. He accepted, seeing as he had nothing else worthwhile to do but he didn’t expect anything from the activity.

He thought it would be mediocre at best. After all, what else is there to do aside from sipping warm tea and munching on fresh fancy-filled sandwiches? And he can’t even do anything ‘exciting’ with (y/n) being so out in the open.

And yet, after a few minutes in, Jaeyun was filled with a sense of tranquility and comfort that he’s never felt before.

He was embraced by a warm sense of home and relaxation, one that entirely limps his body and empties his mind that makes him believe the respite he’s had all this time before are poor excuses. There’s just something about (y/n), something that makes him feel so casually free and blissful—even while doing nothing and just…reveling in each other’s presence.

Just like now.

“(y/n),” Jaeyun starts quietly as he leans his head against the pillow she put on her lap for his ease since he’s sitting on the carpeted floor and her on the couch. “How would you like to stay at my residence for some time?”

The girl’s motions freeze entirely and that one simple act instantly makes him straighten his back as eyes shoot open, alarmed and anxious.

“(y/n)?” He calls again, shaky, as he spins on his seat, looking up at her with eyes pleading for an answer to her abrupt change. What was it? Did his invitation offend her? Does she think that his offer is with salacious intent? It won’t be a surprise if she did. Did his reputation precede him and affected her view of him without him knowing?

The noise in his head quietens as she begins to speak.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just…I don’t plan on leaving Sunoo, Jaeyun,” (y/n) softly declares as her fingers brush the fallen strands of his hair away from his eyes. His doe eyes blink up at her nervously as his brows raise and angle downwards at the end, an adorable expression for an atrocious man.

Jaeyun gently holds her hand just as it begins to retract. “But, why? It won’t be for long. Just for a brief, even a visit! You’ll love it there, I’m sure of it.”

“Sunoo won’t like that,” the girl rejects again with a soft shake of her head. “He’s my saviour, Jaeyun. He was the one who brought me to his home and cared for me. I’d hate to go against him in any way.”

For the first time in forever, Jaeyun loathes himself for having fun. If only he wasn’t so drunk and occupied with the pleasures of the red light district, he might’ve been the one to find her. He might’ve been the one to welcome her in his home and is able to covet her freely without fear or concern for anyone else.

Because then, he would be the one to own her. The one whom she’s tethered to, just as how she is with Sunoo.

He furrows, frustration imbuing.

“But recently, I have been a bit worried,” she says suddenly and this pulls the other’s attention back to her. “I overheard him last time discussing with his aide regarding the collection of tax. And I know, I know it’s for the greater good but…I can’t help wondering if his aide’s words run truer than I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jaeyun asks, now fully focused as he sees an opportunity to cease her concern, to be her knight in shining armour. His hand squeezes hers assuringly, prompting her to spill the words in her head.

She sighs in defeat. “His aide said that the amount of tax might be too overwhelming for the people, but Sunoo said it was urgent and that nothing could be done.”

Jaeyun restrains from scoffing out loud. He knows that the only reason their host is rushing with the collection is because he had been slacking.

“I’m aware that there must be a reason why he’s putting such great pressure on the villagers but I fret,” (y/n) confesses and meets his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

This is it. His moment.

He smiles and shifts to sit on his heels before clasping both her hands in his. His thumbs draw soothing circles below her knuckles. “If it may bring you some sort of comfort, we can go to the village.”

The rekindled sparks in her eyes bring him more joy than he ever thought they could and he unconsciously wears a grin as his tender gaze is transfixed on her.

“We can?”

‘No. To be honest, no. Not without Sunoo losing his marbles,’ he thinks but his smiling eyes say otherwise.

“Of course.”

—

CRASH!

“Where is she?? FIND HER!” Sunoo shrieks with unbridled wrath as he tightly grips (y/n)’s dress in his fist. Shards of white adorned with prettily painted flowers scatter the sparkling floor from the tea set he hurled towards the wall.

His aide flinches at his piercing scream and gathers his hands together in fear while maids hurry to clean the mess. “W-we’re trying our best, my lord.”

“Do her servants have no clue where she went?” Sunoo snaps as fox eyes sharpen more than they ever have and Yoo shakes his head vigorously. “I should’ve assigned her those guards but I didn’t as I was afraid she’d get uncomfortable. Foolish! Idiot!”

Yoo and the other staff around shudder violently, terrified of what their master will do. They have never seen him be so cross and upset—because he has never been this emotional before. But ever since (y/n) entered his life, they’ve seen many changes in their employer.

“Young lord! We’ve brought a servant who said he saw (y/n) before her disappearance!” A guard declares after performing a respectful bow and enters the chamber alongside his colleague with a shivering slim boy held tightly between them.

Sunoo’s glare shifts to the poor staff member and only then does Yoo feel like he can breathe—stumbling slightly as his abrupt inhale nearly knocks his balance.

“Speak,” the noble orders lowly and the worker gulps harshly.

“I-I saw her in the garden with M-Master Jaeyun. The two were unaccompanied which w-was odd but I thought they were merely enjoying a stroll so I…I said nothing.”

SMACK! THUD!

Gasps erupt from the other servants while hands fly to cover their mouth, taken aback. Widened eyes glance at the noble before they quickly avert them, horrified at the thought of the repercussions if they are caught.

The fallen boy remains ashamed and hurt on the ground while holding the stinging pain against his cheek from Sunoo’s abrasive slap.

“That accursed Jaeyun hyung…” He curses below his breath before turning around, a motion everyone is grateful for as they watch him sit on the missing girl’s bed. He stares at the expensive silk in his hand before running his other against the soft sheets of her mattress. His inordinately unfeeling gaze casts onto her pillow as he smiles at the imagery of her slumbering peacefully but it vanishes as quickly as it forms. “Go to the village. I have a feeling that they might be there…”

His orders are absolute—all necessary figures quickly departing to execute his demand while the servants hastily leave him to the comfort of his own presence, hoping he will simmer down.

Sunoo lays on her bed and buries himself underneath her blanket—basking in her scent and lingering warmth as he clutches her dress against his chest. His head turns into her fluffy, soft pillow and lets his lips brush against the cool fabric as a woeful whimper sounds.

He misses her. He wishes to see her. To touch her and embrace her and be graced with her presence, be spoiled in her unconditional affections. He yearns for her. He needs her.

He can’t live without her.

Knock, knock.

He doesn’t respond to the sound, expecting the visitor to take their leave so when the door swings open, he’s quick to recover to a sitting position as a glower forms.

“Who dare—Sunghoon hyung?” Confusion laces the younger’s tone as the said noble moseys into the room. “What’s so urgent for you to disrupt my private time?”

A scoff emits from the older as his thick, defined brow cocks up with intrigue. “Private time in (y/n)’s room? Seems scandalous, is it not?”

His mockery ticks him off and Sunoo stands, letting go of the girl’s dress in the process. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, leave.”

Sunghoon raises his hands to his chest in surrender. “Calm. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”

The younger’s silence and intensifying glare should be enough as a hint to leave and yet, he still chooses to stay.

“Please, the matter I am to discuss with you is regarding (y/n). I’m certain that you’d like to know.”

The other perks.

“I’ve noticed that she doesn’t seem to be quite…fortified in the head. There seems to be a few screws loose,” Sunghoon says slowly and the younger noble’s silence compels him to continue. “So I was going to suggest a proper facility for her to perhaps, fix her. A new institute has recently opened up near by home and I’ve heard of their excellent treatments—always proving to be effective and the staff are cordial and capable.”

Feeling proud of himself, Sunghoon grins brightly as he expectantly rubs his hands together behind his back. Of course, his ‘helpful’ suggestion is a mere excuse. After Sunoo drops her off to the institute, Sunghoon will only collect her and have her stay in his abode—to be his once and for all.

Sunoo isn’t dumb, he’s bound to be suspicious but among all of them, he is also known to be one of the nicest despite his stand-offish attitude. He’ll accept Sunghoon’s proposal if it meant better lifestyle for (y/n).

But perhaps, he’s become too naive, too complacent and confident to realise that his friend’s affections for (y/n) has run deeper than he bargained for. An affection so strong that it borders with obsession.

The sound of the younger’s scoff pulls Hoon away from his reverie and his dark brows knit at him. “So, you too?”

“Pardon?” Sunghoon sounds, visibly confused and Sunoo stands before striding towards him with a mien, solemn, and gaze, frigid.

“First it was Jaeyun, and now you. It’s laughable how any of you think that you can steal (y/n) away from me,” the host scoffs, a cynical smirk on his face and he tilts his head up to him. "I think it is wise for you to leave my abode at this moment, and never set foot in it until I permit you to."

Sunghoon's luxuriant brows knit as his panicked eyes flicker between the other's, deeply shocked by his abrupt verdict. Seeing the inordinate hostility in his golden eyes and the taut fists trembling on his sides from his restraint, it is as if he no longer recognizes. As if they are distant strangers.

His words are caught in his throat, horrified at the young's unforeseen aggression and thankfully, he needs not to respond as the rapidly approaching clamour and discordance of sabatons against tiles.

Like an alarmed lemur, Sunoo's head snaps to the door instantly as eyes widen with anticipation right as his guards enter while flanking (y/n) and Jake. Relief washes over him, shoulders falling and corners of his lips curling as he pulls the girl away from his men's holds.

"(y/n)! I thought you left me. I was so worried," Sunoo sighs into her hair as he embraces her tighty—a scandalous gesture for unwed figures and yet, none dare to refute. He expects to be reciprocated, to feel her own limbs wrap around his torso with warmth yet instead, he's pushed an arm's length away and is greeted by a face scrunched with pure franticness and concern.

"Sunoo, it isn't his fault! It was my idea, truly! I was the one who encouraged the escapade. Not Jaeyun!" She pleads for mercy—not to grant it to her, but to Jake. And it irks Sunoo, so so much to an extent where he wishes for the older lad's demise.

He casts his focus to the said man, eyes that were previously soft and cordial turning sharp and beady like those of a serpent's as he calmly approaches the apprehended noble. "Jake."

The lack of honorifics shocks the latter who's so accustomed to the other addressing him with respect—even if they were to be in a friendly banter, Sunoo never forgets their proper labels as he thinks of dignity very highly.

Which meant that right now, Jaeyun is very, truly, undeniably fuc—

"Just as I have said to Sunghoon, you are to pack your bags and to never dare to approach my property in any circumstance. And this order is to remain until I, myself, revoke it," he hisses his words that are laced with venom. Glare fixed solely on the man whose face blanched upon understanding his command.

That would mean he can never see (y/n) again. He can't simply accept that.

"It wasn't my fault! If you weren't such a selfish, lazy arse, you would not have needed to burden your people with an absurd amount of tax! (y/n) was just worried for them and I sought to ease her of her anxiety that was caused by you!" Jaeyun argues, seething as his chest heaves heavily. It's unwise to argue with the host whose edict will dictate his fate but that's all he can think of.

Sunoo scowls, brow arches with disbelief. "What?"

The feel of cold, trembling fingers intertwining with his distract him and he grows quiet upon meeting (y/n)'s gaze. She shakes her head softly as she rolls her lips between her teeth, brows scrunch and eyes constantly shifting from one of his to the other.

"Please," she begs wispily and brings his hand against her cheek which she then nuzzles into. Like ice to a bruise and a hearth in winter, Sunoo's tumultuous emotions are pacified, leaving only heavy exhaustion from his mental strain and the shaky exhale he perform is a telltale sign. He overlooks the curl of her lips when he surrenders into her—cupping her other cheek with his vacant hand before he presses his plush lips onto her forehead in a lingering, intimate kiss.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun gawk at the sight, both shocked and envious of his privilege to do such a thing with her, but they are quickly dismissed by him who chooses to abide by her requests. Even Sunghoon is excused as he's now too eager to spend time with (y/n) after being deprived of her for hours.

As the doors of her lavish chamber shut behind the two nobles, they turn to one another and exchange knowing yet simultaneously understanding looks before they separate to their own private rooms.

"I didn't know you would be so affected. I apologize," (y/n) says softly as Sunoo brings her to the bed before gently sitting her beside him. "I promise I will not do it again."

The noble stares at her, hurt flashing across his deep gaze as he recalls how she willingly chose to leave him and follow Jaeyun, but he only shakes his head a smile. She's still his and no one can change that. "It's true I was I upset. But, it was my fault. I knew I was being unfair to the people, but desperation lead me to be...selfish. I shouldn't have." "I'll mend it. I shall revoke my order and instead, retrieve the amount needed from my personal vault. My father would not know if I don't tell him, right?"

He lets out a small chuckle with a grin that spells mischief and slyness. His eyes upturned as they scintillate with excitement.

And at that, (y/n)'s brows raise briefly, pleasantly...surprised at his sudden declaration. He'll use his own wealth to correct his wrongs? Of course, it is to be expected—for one who is morally responsible and selfless—but never did she expect that he, or any of the seven nobles, would make such a decision.

"(y/n)?" Sunoo calls softly, bemused by her abrupt silence before finding himself grappling to remain solid and sane when she presses her lips against his cheeks. His temperature spikes, each nerve end tingling as his face turns pink like a blossom. "(y-y/n)?"

The girl smiles as she cups his cheek, an enigmatic yet, warm gleam in her eyes as she stares tenderly at him. Sunoo feels as if he'll implode from how inordinately quick his heart rate is.

"You're sweet," she says, a strange sense of ambiguity laced within. Her thumb caresses his dewy skin that blooms redder. "I've truly...grown attached."

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 enha are very ew here :C so proceed with caution!! i can't wait for (y/n) to give them a taste of their own medicine :D erm, if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is open—send an ask to be included ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

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[milkteabinniechan]

♡Lessons Learned - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: tutor! Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: if you fail this midterm, you're screwed. Thankfully, your counselor set you up with a tutor who's willing to help you out and he has a very interesting way of rewarding you whenever you answer a question right.

warnings: public sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (f.rec)

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You signed up for an introduction to economics class thinking it would be simple. It wasn't what you wanted to do, but you still needed the credit to graduate. You found the number of a tutor on the bulletin board in your common room and decided to give it a call.

“Yeah?” The voice on the other end sounded groggy and irritated.

“Hi! I saw your number and thought that maybe you could tut-”

“What time?” His voice spat at your ear.

“Oh! Uh, I'm free tomorrow afternoon. Does that work? Or we could-”

You were cut off again. He told you to meet him at the University library late afternoon tomorrow. Hwang Hyunjin. What a tool.

The next day you arrived at the library early. You wanted a table by the window and knew how coveted the seating could get. You placed your books around the table and tapped your pencil impatiently against your thigh. Hyunjin showed up exactly when he said he would. He wore glasses and a loose-fitting sweater vest over a short sleeved polo. His hair was messy and unkempt but you couldn't help but notice how incredible he smelled. Like vanilla and fresh cut cedarwood

The two of you met like that for days; with you showing up early and Hyunjin trying to explain the basics of economics. But you couldn't seem to grasp the concept. It was difficult to concentrate when he would lean in close to you, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You would bite the eraser of your pencil anxiously. He has to know how gorgeous he was. He has to have girls chasing him all over campus. Sometimes when he would explain a formula or application, you could just stare at his mouth. You would watch his touch flick and bounce as he enunciated his words. Your thighs would squeeze together involuntarily at the thought of his touch moving and twisting around your mouth or your hardened sensitive nipples.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

Every once and a while you would catch him staring at your breasts. Or he would catch you staring at his hands. More and more tension was building between the two of you without you getting any closer to understanding the assignments.

One day, Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well, let's do something a bit... different, shall we? How about we use a more practical application?”

You perked up in your chair and tilted your head curiously.

“What did you have in mind?”

Hyunjin grinned mischievously.

“How about we focus on the concept of supply and demand?” Hyunjin leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

"For instance, if I were to... touch you in places you wouldn't expect, how would you react? Would you push me away, or…?”

Your heart clenched in your chest and your hands gripped the edge of the table.

“I…I guess I don't know what I'd do.” You lied.

“Exactly, you don't know. And that's what makes it so interesting." Hyunjin reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Let's conduct a little experiment. I'll demonstrate the concept of supply and demand, and you can observe and react accordingly.”

Before you could answer him, Hyunjin stood up and walked over to your side of the table, kneeling down in front of you.

"Alright, let's start with the supply side of things.” He placed his hands on your knees and slowly started to push them apart.

"As the supply increases, the demand often increases as well.

You held your breath; quickly looking around the library to see if anyone else had noticed Hyunjin's new position in front of you. Hyunjin grinned wickedly as he continued to push your legs apart, moving his body between them.

"You're blushing. Your breathing is getting faster. See how the demand is rising?” He leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours.

You nod your head slowly, your entire body completely entranced with the feeling of his hands on your thighs. Hyunjin's grin grew wider, his hands continuing their exploration.

"Mmm, the demand is high, isn't it?" His hand slid up further, tracing the edge of your underwear.

"And what if I were to... slip my hand inside? Would you push me away or pull me closer?”

“Closer…” you whispered meekly.

Hyunjin’s hand slipped inside your underwear and his fingers made quick work of gently caressing your most intimate area. He let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt the slick excitement that was already leaking out of you. Hyunjin looked up at you, his grin wicked.

"Look at you... taking it so well. You're a natural, Ace." His fingers continued their rhythm, his pace quickening slightly.

"And now, what if I were to... curve my fingers just…”

He slowly slid his fingers in and out, his thumb gently rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves as his middle finger curved and curled. Your walls clenched around his slender finger, your hand now clasped like a vice over your mouth.

Hyunjin smirked at your reaction.

"Found your sweet spot, haven't I?" His fingers continued to stroke that spot, his thumb still rubbing your swollen clit.

"And now, if I were to... lean down and lick you while my fingers are inside you…”

Your head shot up and you glared down at him, your face turning redder by the second.

“Here?! Now?!” You growled. You loved how he was making you feel but you had never done anything so public before.

"Yes, here." Hyunjin said firmly, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I'm going to lick your perfect pussy while I finger you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?"

Hyunjin leaned down, his mouth hovering over your clothed folds before pulling your underwear to the side and licking you in one long, sweeping motion.

You moaned softly into your hand. Your body was feeling like it was on fire. Every nerve ending has been activated and needed stimulation. You tried your best to stay still, to make it look like nothing was happening. To convey the facade that this gorgeous man wasn't absolutely devouring you inside a library. The silence around you was glaringly apparent as Hyunjin gently coaxed your clit into his mouth and gently sucked on it. His fingers continued to curl and stroke your needy insides, his other hand still holding your leg in place. He looked up at you, his eyes shining with desire as sucked and pulled hungrily at your slick folds.

"Look at you... so pretty…”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

[7brownsuga7]

The God who answers after dark ☆ The intro:

Summary: You used to pray to the Gods after dark before you went to sleep, always thinking that you were praying to the good kind. The kind that showed mercy. However you were mistaken, as time passes and you grew older and wiser it will be revealed that your prayers were answered, but not by the Gods you thought you knew, but the dark kind. The kind that your grandmother used to warn you about. Ones you hear in stories. The kind that you should fear, but how can you when it's all you know. How can you when he was the only one who answered?

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, mostly fluff I guess, a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? age gap I guess?!!? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Slight manipulation???! MDNI!!!

Word count: 3k+

Note: making this into a series🫶🏽 this is just a little something that I wrote when I was bored. Be prepared for more obsessive and possessive Jungkook!

Was inspired by the book invisible life of Addie-Larue

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was dark.

The night creating shadows in the corner of your room, allowing your imagination to run wild, creating things scary to imagine.

You wasn’t scared though, because you knew it was your imagination. And because you’ve experienced something way darker. You invited him into your home with a simple whisper, let him talk to you throughout the many dark nights, telling him your dreams and wishes of a better life where you are happy and loved.

You was always an imaginative child. While you watched others make friends, you created your own, that grew along with you. Who only came out at night.

You first called upon him when you were only seven. Mindlessly talking to the open air. You had wanted a friend. A friend you could talk to, play with, share secrets with. So you stared off into the dark and talked about nothing and everything. However, when you saw the shadows in the corner of your room move, and sit before you did you realise that you summoned something else. Not a friend, not an imaginary one, something much darker. Still you spoke to it, and it spoke to you like rough winds in the cool night. It comforted you like a cool breeze in a summers heat.

You found comfort in him. You would mindlessly tell him your dreams. He would make empty promises of giving you that dream felt life. Empty, because they came with a price that you were not willing to pay for. Still he would sit beside you and listen to your stories and dreams.

You had asked him what his dreams were and he had told you that he was the son of a God - he had none, but he could grant them within due time. When he himself became a God. So he settled with telling you stories about Gods and wars. Desperate souls and deals. The kind his father spoke to him about, the kind he experienced himself.

Then, he was an angel, the son of a God he refused to speak of. Now, he is a God himself, the God of Darkness. Like the type you’d find deep in a forest, hidden behind the shadows of the trees, infused within the night that covers the sky like a blanket. Comforting to some, suffocating for others.

You was a child who had a lot to wish for and no control of your imagination back then. His company grew on you so much that he was like an accessory to your room. Like a cushion that decorated your bed, a small plant that had a home on your desk, a stack of books that rested in a pile on your bedside table. He felt like home.

The man that would sit before you, appearance created from your imagination - answered you everytime you called on him. He was always there with you. When you looked out of your window at night, when you wrote in your diary about the stories he’d tell you. In your dreams. He was always there.

It was dark.

So you did what you’ve always done when the lights went out, and people lay deep asleep. The night silent and still.

You called for him.

“Yes my love?” He appeared from the dark corner of your room. Once a shadow, now a man that sat before you on your bed. The only bit of light was the shine from the moon and the small warm lamp next to your bed.

You always expect the bed to shift as he sits down, but his weight is like a feather held in one’s palm. Light and weightless. Proof that the form you see before you is none other than what he has stolen from your imagination. His true form something like a stream in the night. Dark and shallow.

His lean body presented in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Very simple, but styled so well. He was always so well presented, dressed so elegantly. You knew that that wasn’t your imagination that created the fine attire, it was simply him, the Darkness who was a charmer, who had lived many years before you. Of course he’d picked up some style on the way.

“I want to be loved” you spoke out, tone delicate like a whisper, too embarrassed, too afraid.

“Y/n my dear, you are loved by many. Your mother adores you, friends cherish you, need I say more?” His eyes match his soul, dark and intense, yet they still seem to be so warm, inviting. It’s either that or his voice that draws you in. So soothing yet so deep. Like a calm ocean that holds many depth below.

“Not that kind of love. I want to be loved by a man. I want to feel that type of love I read in books and see in movies. The type of love my grandparents have. The type of love that won’t make me feel so alone anymore”

He chuckles a beautiful melody.

You always surprised him. The things you’d speak and dream of so bizarre yet so intriguing. Out of all the souls who begged for his help and all the humans he’s encountered, you’re the one that amused him most. A girl who asked and wished for so much, yet all she needed to do was look in the mirror and realise her worth, her power.

But he of all people knew that wishes were easy to slip from one’s lips. Words slide out of people’s mouths just as easy as a balloons string slips out of a child’s hand, so effortlessly. People are so careless when it comes to words. If only they knew the power it holds.

Wishes, prayers. They were all the same to him. It didn’t matter because they both had the same outcome, the same deal, the same promise, the same fate and the same desperation. The person was always begging and pleading in the end, too desperate to have their prayers answered to form a logical sentence, and to understand a twisted deal.

“You are not alone my love. I am here, I’ve always been here. I am the breeze that embraces you in the night, the darkness that lulls you to sleep. I am here. And you are loved.”

“You are not a man, even if you choose to be in this moment.” Your words are harsh, yes, but that’s what he loved about you. You were honest with him, you weren’t afraid.

“I can be the darkness of the night, a friend when you need company, I can be a man…”

When you make no move to respond to him, he rolls his eyes and sighs. “But before all of that I am a God. A God that answers wishes, say the words and I’ll give it to you, for a price”

This isn’t the first time he’s said this, and this isn’t the first time you’ve asked for something. But it always ends up with the same outcome, an offer of a sacrifice that you refuse. And then the whole interaction is swept away in the night, forgotten.

“Im not sacrificing my soul to you”

“My dear, you’ve called upon me countless of times, I’ve stayed by your side for years, you must know by now that you’re mine. I may not have your soul entirely, but yours is bound with mine, through shared memories and dreams, nights and years.”

“Don’t you get tired of chasing something that doesn’t belong to you? That will never be yours?”

“I have patience” is the only thing he says before he changes the subject back to your previous wish.

“I’d love to help you. You know I always do. But you should know by now that I can’t just give you that. I can’t just muster up a man for you that will make love to you. You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man, that I can’t do, but like I said, I can be a lot of things.”

His hand reaches out to touch your jaw, thumb caressing it. His touch light, smooth. And despite everything, you wish he would touch you more, so you lean into his touch.

“I can be a God, an Angel, a Devil, a Human. Whatever you’d like me to be, as long as I am yours and you are mine”

“That’s not the type of love I’m talking about” your voice is shaky, unsure of what you want. What you need.

“Oh isn’t it? All those nights you would touch yourself to images of me… where you would talk to yourself about wanting to be touched. Those days where you would listen to all your friends stories about being with another, being touched by another. You envy them. You want to be loved in a way that has your skin littered with goosebumps, chills running down your spine” his fingers brush along your collarbone and you feel a shiver come across your body.

You think back to the nights where you would dream of his fingers against your skin. Light, cool and delicate.

“You must know by now that your body is mine. Your mind, your heart, your soul. Stop wasting your time being stubborn and let me give you what you want. The love you hope for, a world where you’re happy, things go your way. I can give you all of that if you would just be mine”

You hate the fact that he’s partially right. You have dreamt about him and thought of many nights where he would lay you in bed and take you as his. It was one of your dark fantasies that you never spoke of, you couldn’t , not to him.

Just as much as you were, he was stubborn. And as a God that always gets his way, he hates being told no.

“I see you’re making it a habit of calling me yours. You may be a God, but I don’t belong to you. I won’t”

“Within due time”

You don’t say anything else, instead you focus on the stillness of the room. The way his presence is so strong, the way you feel relaxed around him.

“You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man? I can’t give that to you if you don’t sacrifice, but I can show you how to be loved, y/n. I can show you what it feels like to be touched” his hand brushes the side of your face. His eyes pouring into yours, if you didn’t know his games you would almost fall for his tricks. Almost.

“Is this how you get people to give you their souls? Is this one of your twisted games? I give you my body and you take my soul as a keepsake.” Your breath is shaky as his touch takes over your body, so intense, so wrong but so right.

“I don’t just want your soul y/n. I want your heart, I want your touch, I want your love and your word that you will be mine.”

“You aren’t capable of feeling those things. you’re n-“

“Not human, I know. You’ve told me many times” his fingers brush along your thigh. “But when you have lived amongst humans and dealt with them for as long as I have, you begin to understand real emotions. I’m more human than you’ll ever know ”

His lips brush along your earlobe. “Let me show you”

He lays you down on the bed, hovering over you.

“No man on earth can give you what I can give you. I’ll take their souls if they tried. I can give you the world, the luxury of never having to worry about anything. A life of happiness, a life of freedom. If only you would let me have you”

He spoke so much about making things happen. He could make things happen with the click of his finger. And you wondered if he ever manipulated you in anyway. And why he hasn’t so far. If he really wanted you like he said he does, then why doesn’t he use his power to get you?

He spoke so softly in your ear, his voice like a blanket of silk. You don’t realise that you have yet again leaned in to him. Drawn in by his words, the way he spoke them so effortlessly and so passionately.

“You have me, I’m here right now” you give up your fight and give in to what your body craves.

Your eyes flutter close as you let yourself escape in everything that is him.

Just like when you were a child, you use your imagination to create your own little world. Just you and him for the moment.

You’re lost in his earthy scent. The night sky drawn around you like a blanket, protecting you. A sense of freedom as you seep into the darkness of the night that is him. But when you open your eyes you see more than just the darkness. You see the stars in the night. His eyes mimicking the galaxy as he watches you with so much want.

There in that moment is when you realised how powerful he was. How powerful his words were, his presence was. And his touch…

His touch that had your body reacting in ways you never knew it could.

His touch light, like a cool embrace of the wind.

Except your skin is like the sun, setting your skin on fire as his hands caress your body. You hate that your body reacts so easily to his touch. But over anything else, you hate how he knows your body when you don’t even know it yourself.

He knows just where to touch you, just where you crave another’s touch.

Just where to touch to have the hairs on your body stand up. Eager for more.

His face is in the crook of your neck lightly running his lips along the service, just before he litters small pecks to it. He smells you, breathes you in, humming in the process.

“I’m so full of everything I can have in life, and yet I still crave you”

You shiver when he pauses just by your earlobe.

“What are you doing to me my love?”

You both lock eyes for a second, the world stopping in the moment that is just yours. You don’t answer him. He seems elated with just watching you anyways.

“You’ll let me have you?”

You hold your breath, unsure of what to say. Yes because you want him to take you here right now, but you know how sneaky he can be, you’re afraid that your words would be used against you.

When you make no move to speak, he smirks against your skin and whispers, “Smart girl, I’ve taught you well.”

He takes no time in playing with the lace of your panties. You feel wetness stick to the fabric, something that started once he laid his fingers on you.

He’s always been good with his fingers. One night he played you a song on your guitar, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. In this very moment you feel like an instrument. The way his fingers work on you, you creating sounds so melodic you don’t even recognise yourself. The way he holds you so gently as one would with their instrument. You’re not afraid when you’re with him. There’s no need to be when he holds and touches you so gently.

His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks to you. His fingers working inside of you making your back arch and toes curl. Your fingers grab your sheet, mind going crazy because you know you shouldn’t be doing this. This is crazy and it’s not like you at all. And with him?

“You’re so stubborn. Why won’t you be mine? Look how your body is reacting to me. The moment I made myself present, your breathing changed rhythm and heart increased pace. You don’t think I know how you feel?”

You release a pathetic moan. A desperate one that has you cringing with embarrassment because of how needy you sound.

He leans in towards the crook of your neck with a low, “hmm?”

You look away. Too embarrassed and too in awe at the way he’s making you feel - making you act.

“Look at me”.

You find the courage to look at him. His fingers that work inside of you have your pussy creating sounds you never knew it could. You take deep breaths, slight frown on your face as your body’s taken over by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet for me. So needy.”

He continues to watch you with half-lidded eyes. Taking in the moment. Taking in everything that is you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into it.

You’ve given yourself to him in this moment - not entirely as he had hoped, but having his way with you in this point in time is more than enough.

He takes you there on your bed. The same place you would speak to him every night, dream of him every occasion.

He’s gentle, careful. His motions precise, enough to have your breath stuck in your throat.

Your mind has been lost in the darkness that is him. You don’t even want to find it.

He’s hovered over you, your legs wrapped around him. Kisses given with each thrust.

He speaks beautiful words to you, hand caressing your face every now and then.

And in this moment you’re sure you’re making love. Even though you know it can’t be because you both know nothing of the sort, but this is exactly how it feels like.

You reach a hand out to him, brushing back his dark stringy locks that fall in front of his face.

He kisses you with so much passion, speaks to you with words that has your heart aching for more.

In this moment you almost give him your word. Your life, your soul. Your head clouded by this intense emotion, a feeling that you can’t grasp. He’s taken you to a whole different universe, mind lost in everything that is him.

You almost give him your word, almost.

And when he brings you to your climax you sink deeper into him, into his embarace. Letting your body infuse with his.

You both lay there in silence for a while until he voices, “Even if you deny it. I’ve given you my word that I’ll stick by your side. There’s no getting rid of me”

You don’t need to ask him about what he means.

You know.

His fingers caress your skin as you close your eyes, letting his words fill the air.

“A soul as beautiful and pure as yours is a soul to wait a lifetime for. And I’ve got a lot of time”

And when you open your eyes, you’re met with nothing but the darkness of your room.

The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

[violetsiren90]

Nothing But You | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x f!human!Reader

Genre: hybrid AU; non-idol AU, strangers to lovers; love in adversity; cozy one-shot; fluff and angst

Word Count: 1434

Summary: The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.

Part 2: Evergreen (though both can be read as stand-alone works)

Content Warnings: I'd give this a PG-13 for content, but ALL of my work is 18+ (minors, dni); cuddling; co-sleeping; bad weather (but safe indoors); shirtless Chris (Chan is called Christopher); descriptions of hybrid physical features (including some minimal body hair); depictions of prejudice towards, discrimination, and marginalization of hybrids; a character gets lost and is momentarily frightened; allusions to sexual intimacy; implied domestic violence (by an authority figure, not Chris); running away; mention of reproduction (pups); for some reason even though it is explicitly stated I feel the need to mention that Reader and Chris are both adults throughout

Author's Note: I'll tell you what I didn't have planned for this Sunday afternoon and that was a Bang Chan hybrid AU one-shot. But the image of cuddling up with Chan in the middle of a snowstorm took me hostage and now here we are. I've never written a hybrid AU before, so this was very fun! If you read this, I hope this Christopher brings you the comfort you deserve today. 💕

P.S In case no one has told you today, you're so loved and so, so worthy of love. 🧜💜

The icy wind howls, whipping swirling flurries of snow past the windows of the little cabin. You stir, not opening your eyes, heavy with slumber as your other senses remind you of the homey trappings of your shelter. A fire crackles and pops, its warmth licking over your nose and cheeks. A soft, heavy blanket fashioned of rabbit pelts lays over your body, rustling quietly as you nuzzle into the man beneath you.

    His chest rises and falls with the even breath of a deep sleep. Your cheek rests against his bare skin and the silky patch of thick, dark hair between his firm pectorals. It isn't really hair - not like yours. It's fur. Soft, dark tufts of it decorate his body everywhere hair would grow on a man; a patch on his chest, under his arms, at the dip of his Adonis belt. It smells like him. Like musk and pine and lavender. Manly and primal, floral and gentle. Christopher.

    Hybrids were still treated like dirt in so many ways. They didn't require licenses to live without owners anymore, but still, they were pushed to the margins of the community by the intolerance of common practice. You yourself had been taught to fear them. Monsters, your grandfather had told you, who would turn on their own young in a moment of morbid instinct. Even so, you always found more pity in your heart than terror.

    And then, one day, you met him.

You had been loading groceries into the bed of your grandparents' jalopy at the general store and dropped a bag of oats as you struggled to hoist it onto the tailgate. You hadn't even noticed he was beside you when he easily hefted the bag and the remaining two boxes of eggs onto the vehicle without a word. He shot you a little smile, but before you could thank him your eyes were arrested by a pair of sharp brown ears rising from his curly hair. He pulled on a cap and turned to go before you could collect your wits enough to speak.

    You had thought of nothing save his warm brown eyes and sweet smiling lips in the weeks that followed, taking any chance you could to steal away to the general store in hopes of seeing him again.

But your paths never crossed. Not until the following summer.

You had packed in to the camping grounds by the lake with a few other girls from your graduating class for a weekend getaway from the menfolk - not that you had any - and you'd joined them rather reluctantly and at the persistence of your grandmother, who insisted a little socialization would do you good.

    That first afternoon you quickly grew tired of the chatter. If the weekend was meant to be a reprieve from the men, you grumbled to yourself, then why were they the constant and sole topic of conversation? You gathered up your sketching supplies and walked down the trail a ways, finding that the more distance you put between yourself and the shrieks of laughter and gossip behind you, the better you felt. Soon, you couldn't hear them at all. You settled onto a rock at the edge of a small glen and took your pencil in hand.

    Suddenly, some hours later, it dawned on you that your eyes were straining somewhat on the page, and you looked about, startled at the waning light reflecting the late hour. Gathering your things, you hurried back to down the path, only to realize with a sickness in your gut that you were well and truly lost, and that the daylight was nearly spent.

    He had found you then, sniffling rather pathetically beside a tree. You'd been alarmed by the sudden sound of his voice, having not heard his furtive approaching steps, but when you raised your frightened eyes to his face the fear had quickly given way to wonder. You'd given up hope of seeing him again, and now here he was, once more in your hour of need.

It was too dark now to find the trail back to the campsite, so you helped divide the load of bracken he had tucked under his arm between you as he led the way back to his cabin, not far into the thick. As you walked you noticed his tail, gray and brown and full behind him. Had he hidden it, that day at the store, you wondered? Did he always when he was around people like you? You remembered how surprised you had been at the site of his pretty ears upon your first meeting and you felt ashamed. You tried to find every possible way to assure him, as you walked and talked, that he didn't frighten you. You hoped he understood.

    Before long, you arrived at a little clearing with a log cabin at its heart. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimney, and you found it was as small and homey and warm within as it seemed from the cold darkness of the wood. The stranger gave you bread and stew and hot milk, and you ate with him and told him of yourself and he shared with you in return.

He was a wolf hybrid. The sole survivor of his pack, he had traveled hundreds of miles to settle into the mountains of your home. He made a living hunting, trapping, and gathering the wares of the wild to sell in town, as did a handful of other hybrids living in the mountains - a group of traders known collectively as The Strays. He told you that his name was Christopher, but that most simply called him The Wolf. When you repeated his given name softly and asked if you could call him by it he smiled that smile again, but broader and brighter and with his eyes pressed into little moons and crow's feet in their corners. His canines glinted in the light of the fire and one beautiful dimple pressed into his left cheek.

    You were in love.

    You asked him, a little shyly before parting the following day, if you could be friends. He smiled sadly and brushed rough fingers over your cheek before telling you that you were already his friend, but that you should keep yourself safe by staying away. People were suspicious of hybrids, and if he were seen with a human woman, it could be dangerous for you both.

     At the edge of the campsite, when he turned to go, you grabbed his arm. You told him that every Saturday morning you helped wait tables at Maple's Diner, and that if he came, breakfast would be on the house. You wanted to thank him, you insisted. In truth, you just wanted to give him a chance to find you, should he wish to. Oh, you desperately hoped that he wished to.

    And he did. He showed up a few weeks later, ears tucked under a hat and shoulders looking broad in a worn flannel shirt. You gave him coffee and bacon and a pile of pancakes and sat with him when your shift was through. It became a ritual, Saturday mornings at the diner. And then you started meeting for lunch. Then dinner. Then for long walks and trips to the movies. Then he started to take you out for drives in his truck - for picnics in the mountains, to watch the stars from the bed, to never leave the cab or each other's arms as the windows fogged with your labored breaths and mingled heat.

    One night your grandparents were waiting up when you returned. Your grandfather was in a rage, your grandmother was all worry and woes. It was a sin, what you were doing, they said. In the eyes of what god, you demanded in return? Your grandmother clung to your arm, begging you to come to your senses - it was dangerous, and worse, you would be ruined for life. You told her that none of that meant anything to you. Only him, he was all that mattered. Only Christopher. To hell with everyone and everything else in that goddamned town that treated him with suspicion and shame - that could never begin to see how perfectly beautiful he was.

Your grandfather forbade you to see him.

You told him you were grown and he couldn't stop you.

He raised his hand, and your grandmother screamed.

    When Christopher pulled up in his pickup you were in front of Maple's Diner. He gasped as he crouched to cradle you in his arms and gently brush his fingers over your broken lip and the green bruise on your cheek. He gathered you up, gathered your little bags, and took you home.

Home to the woods.

To the little warm cabin.

To his arms and his heart.

    It's the third winter since you left it all behind - everything that tried to keep you from him.

Things are so different now, so simple, slow, steady and intimate in the life you share. You've started talking about pups. Maybe someday. Maybe soon. 

    You look up at his lovely, peaceful face, washed golden in the firelight, and smile, settling back down against his chest. As the wind howls your eyes slip shut, and you sleep again in the strong, gentle arms of a wolf.

-Fin-

[kairoot]

𝑇𝑂𝑃 𝑆𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓．． ──── 최산．

ׂ ִ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬．𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇，𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆． — 𝐩. 𝗌𝗉𝗒！𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝐠. 𝑒𝟤𝑙．𝑓𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿，𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 — 𝐰. 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌，𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁，𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎，𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾？ 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽．𝐰𝐜. 𝟦.𝟫𝗄

✉️ ──── thanks to sav for this lovely idea 😛 (we love papa san)

The building was cold with the monitors lighting up all over the room, casting sharp shadows across the walls. You’d been sitting in the same chair by the large wooden desk, waiting for what felt like hours. The folder that sat in front of you was open with papers spread out in a disorganized manner.

Finally, the gray double doors opened and in walked your boss and leader, Seonghwa. He wore the same unimpressed expression that he always did, dressed in his gray suit with his long jet black hair combed back neatly. His clipboard was at his side as he walked over to you, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

He handed you the dossier, the file with way more information than the first one that sat in front of you before.

“If it wasn’t clear before, you’re infiltrating the Aurorian mansion, just on the other side of town.” He said, looking at your confused expression.

“Okay, but how is this getting us closer to catching Hongjoong? Isn’t he supposed to be off to Greece right now?” You opened the dossier, glancing at the info inside.

“He’s leaving tonight. But he’ll be at the mansion first, loading his teammates onto his ship with our amulet.” Seonghwa emphasized the fact that Hongjoong still had possession of the amulet. The amulet that belonged to Seonghwa and his organization.

Hongjoong, the most notorious pirate in town, had found a way to break into the organization’s underground lab just 3 days ago, stealing one of the most valuable creations that your boss owned.

Inside of the dossier, there was a blurry photograph of Hongjoong with the amulet around his neck, running away from the opening of the lab before anyone around could catch him in the act.

“He plans to activate it during the gala,” Seonghwa spoke again, his hands now clasped together in a professional manner.

“If he does..” He trailed off, his jaw tightening but he didn’t continue his sentence, leading you to think the cause of Hongjoong’s actions would be way more serious than you thought.

“You’ll need to stop him—and take it back. Before it’s too late.”

You didn’t say anything which lead Seonghwa to think you were a bit worried. He sighed, looking down for a moment as you just stared at the picture in front of you, thinking about everything he had told you.

“Look,” he said softly, placing his hand on yours. “I wouldn’t assign you to this mission if I didn’t think you were capable, Y/n.”

You blinked, still analyzing everything. You were one of Seonghwa’s best spies on the team and he made that clear every time you stepped into his office, so why were you doubting yourself now? It’s not like you’d never done anything dangerous, so what was all the worrying about?

“If it’s the captain you’re worried about—I know you’ll find him. He won’t be able to control that amulet and what’s inside.” Seonghwa said, still reassuring you.

“And what if I can’t get him?” You spoke, your voice slightly shaking.”

“You will. This isn’t an easy mission, but I’ve given you some help.”

You looked up at Seonghwa’s words, your eyebrows furrowing. And as if on cue, the double doors opened once more, the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. Seonghwa’s gaze flickered from the doors and back over to you, silently hoping that you wouldn’t flip out on him.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” A deep voice carried through the room before you even saw him, smooth and infuriatingly smug. You turned slightly in the chair to see the one person you hated the most. Choi San. Seonghwa’s cockiest agent.

He stood casually by the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets with a wicked grin on his lips. He was dressed in an unwrinkled gray suit, one that looked more like he wanted to charm someone out of their secrets.

You whipped your head around to look at Seonghwa, who remained in the same position, looking over at San with an unpleased expression.

“Seonghwa, what the hell? Out of all the agents on the team?” You scoffed.

He sighed again, “Half of the team is out right now, Y/n. Yeosang is undercover, Yunho is on surveillance today..”

“So? You couldn’t partner me with someone more.. serious?” You questioned.

“Oh, come on. I am serious,” San chuckled lightly, clearly amused at your defensiveness.

You only rolled your eyes at his response, not giving him the satisfaction of an argument. Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of hearing your complaints and San’s bold remarks.

“Listen,” he said. “It’s just for this assignment. Please, Y/n.”

You stared at him for a moment, lost for words. You knew how important that amulet was to Seonghwa and you knew the risks of it if Hongjoong had it in his possession any longer. You couldn’t let your bickering get in the way of what was really important.

“Alright.”

The doors to the agency slammed shut behind you, as you wasted no time heading to your car. San trailed a few steps behind you, his pace calm, contrasting to your determined strides.

“Why so eager, doll?” He snickered.

You didn’t bother turning around, continuing your journey to the parked car. “Unlike you, I’m focusing on what really matters.”

“I’m focused on what matters,” San said with a mocked defensive tone, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “But Hongjoong isn’t going anywhere— well, not yet.”

You glared at him for a moment as you approached your vehicle— a black sedan that was gifted to you from Seonghwa. You unlocked it with the click of the remote on your keys, gesturing to the passenger side.

“In.” You ordered, sliding into your spot in the driver’s seat.

San smirked at your tone, before opening the door, “So demanding, I love it.”

As you drove through the city, you reached for the dossier that Seonghwa gave you, flipping it open again to scan the contents inside. San leaned over to peek at the papers, his broad shoulder brushing against yours.

“Personal space, Choi.” You muttered, trying to angle the papers away from him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling the folder back to his view.

“Sharing is caring.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the page that listed all of Hongjoong’s associates.

The list wasn’t too long but one name stuck out to you the most. Jung Wooyoung— Tattoo Artist. There was a note by his name, indicating that Hongjoong was seen with him 3 days ago. The same day he stole the amulet from the lab.

“Tattoo artist, huh? Think he could give me a discount if I ask nicely?” San hummed, looking at the same name.

You sighed, not entertaining his remark, “We’ll start with him.”

“And I’ll lead the interrogation?” San smiled at you, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit as he propped his feet up on the dashboard.

You swatted his shoes off of the dashboard, earning a scoff from him. “Absolutely not.”

“What? You think I’ll be too good? Better than you?”

“No,” you answered flatly. “Just don’t need you getting us into any trouble.”

You parked a few feet away from the parlor, an undetectable building smushed between two abandoned buildings. The neon “open” sign flickered dimly in the window, the faint glow of it showing up against the cracked sidewalk.

“Great place. I bet Wooyoung’s just a delight.” San whistled as he stepped out of the car.

You shut the door to the driver’s side as you got out, taking a look at the building before walking ahead.

“Just remember what we’re here for. We ask questions and get out. No theatrics needed.”

San saluted mockingly, “You’re the boss.”

The shop smelled of metallic ink and old wood as you and San stepped inside, the bell on the door ringing behind you, indicating that you had entered. The buzzing of a tattoo gun was heard in a nearby corner as you walked further into the shop.

Wooyoung sat lazily in a swivel chair before turning to see who had entered. Once he saw you, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Well, well,” He said, sitting up in his chair. “New clients? Or just here to marvel at my work?”

“Neither,” you said curtly, now standing in front of him. “I need to ask you some things about Hongjoong. I’m sure you know him, no?”

Wooyoung’s smirk widened, his gaze flicking to San, who leaned against the doorframe watching Wooyoung intently.

“Hongjoong? That’s a big name for you to drop,” He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You sure you’re not lost, sweetheart?”

“Nah, I think we’re in the right place.” San spoke, pushing himself off of the doorframe, coming to stand behind you.

Wooyoung seemed to be amused by the whole thing, the same grin remaining on his face. He definitely wasn’t intimidated by you two.

“We know Hongjoong was here three days ago, we just want to know why.”

Wooyoung leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. “Well, getting a sweet tat, of course.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, refusing to believe any of his lies.

“Wooyoung.”

“What? What makes you think I’d tell you anything?”

“‘Cause if you don’t, you won’t be holding another one of those tattoo guns ever again.” You leaned down to his level, a fake smile plastered on your face.

But Wooyoung didn’t flinch. Instead, he laughed in your face— a low, lazy sound that grated your nerves.

“Feisty one, I see. She yours?” He asked San, making a smile appear on his face as he slid his hands into his pockets like before.

“She wants to be.”

You shoved San softly, his antics irritating you. “Would you stop?”

He threw his hands up in a defending way as you turned back to Wooyoung, continuing to question him.

“Relax, Bonnie and Clyde,” He snickered again. “I’ll talk.. if she asks nicely.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your attitude at a minimum. “Wooyoung, would you tell us why Hongjoong was here.. please.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, “Not bad. But I think you can do better.”

San snorted, “Careful. She doesn’t like playing games.”

You sighed frustratingly, “You’re really not helping.”

Wooyoung’s eyes darted between you and San, seeming to enjoy your bickering.

“If you really want to know about Hongjoong..” He trailed off, spinning his chair to face one of his shelves, digging through the clutter.

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to you. You took it, reading the words on it. It was an address, scribbled in messy handwriting.

“He kept rambling about this place. Saying he needed to go there before he left town. I don’t know much, you’ll probably find more answers there.” Wooyoung shrugged.

You mumbled a “thanks”, still analyzing the address on the paper.

You stepped outside, the cold wind blowing against your face as you headed back to your car.

“I told you, ‘no theatrics’.” You mumbled to San as he walked next to you.

“What?” He asked innocently, smiling over at you.

You shook your head as you both approached your car, “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Why? I think we make a pretty great team, baby.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, unfolding the crumpled piece of paper that Wooyoung gave you. San stood a few feet away, fishing something out of his pocket.

“This address looks familiar but I can’t figure out why.” You murmured, tracing the letters and numbers with your finger.

San didn’t answer right away. You glanced up, seeing the faint glow of a lighter illuminating his face as he lit a cigarette.

He took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a way that felt too casual for your liking. His free hand was tucked into his pocket, his stance effortlessly confident. And almost.. attractive?

He raised an eyebrow at you, noticing how you stared at him. You blinked, not even realizing that you were looking at him for that long, quickly turning your gaze back to the paper.

He walked over to you, looking at the paper from over your shoulder.

“Oh shit,” he spoke, the cigarette hanging in between his lips. “That’s a drop-off point.”

You hummed in response, “Maybe he’s dropping something off?”

“Only one way to find out.”

You pushed yourself off of the hood, heading towards the driver���s side before turning to San.

“Put that out before you step foot in my car, please.”

He gave you a smug smile before throwing the cigarette on the ground, stomping out the lit end.

“I never knew you smoked,” You said, sitting in your seat and starting up the car.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, love,” He sighed, sliding in his spot in the passenger seat.

“Besides, I only do it when I’m bored. Keeps me entertained when my partner spends too much time overthinking.”

You huffed, “You know that stuff will kill you, right?”

“Yeah?” He turned his head, sharp eyes looking over his frames, gazing at you. “So will Hongjoong. But I don’t see you lecturing him about his life choices.”

“I’m not his babysitter,” You shot back, your hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“And you’re not mine.”

The rest of the drive to the drop-off point was tense but silent. You couldn’t tell if you pissed San off or if he was actually choosing to behave for once. But.. you couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked at you before when he took drags from his cigarette. There was something about it that you wanted to forget but couldn’t.

As you pulled up to the address, it was exactly how you’d imagined it. Dark, gloomy, and suspiciously quiet. The warehouse loomed ahead, the exterior worn down and barely visible under the dim sky.

“This should be fun,” San muttered.

“Stay sharp. If this has anything to do with Hongjoong, we’re bound to find trouble here.”

The two of you stepped out of the car, footsteps echoing against the pavement. As you approached the building, a rustling sound had caught your attention.

You both froze, turning in the direction of the noise, your hand grazing San’s out of fear.

Before either of you could say anything, three figures emerged from behind some bushes, their movements swift.

“Friends of Hongjoong’s, I’m guessing?” San said, his posture tense but ready.

“More like guards.” You replied, bracing yourself.

The tallest of the group stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. “You both need to leave.”

“Or what, big guy?” San smiled, stepping closer to the guy, taking off his glasses and tossing them off to the side.

You barely had time to react before the man lunged, aiming a punch at your face to which you dodged at first before he sent a blow to your shoulder, sending a sharp pain down your arm. You winced, stumbling back a bit before blocking his next hits and jabbing him in the stomach.

He staggered, but didn’t go down. He swung at you again, but failed miserably as he clutched his gut.

San, however, was putting on a show—at first. He dodged punches and kicks like it was a piece of cake. “Gotta be quicker than that fellas, c’mon.”

But unfortunately, his bold remarks cost him; one of the men swung at San, landing a hard punch to his jaw.

“Shit.” He hissed, stumbling away from him. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth, but his smirk didn’t falter.

Your opponent grabbed your wrist, twisting it as he shoved you against the wall. You gritted your teeth, slamming your knee into the same place you’d hit him before. He groaned, his grip loosening enough for you to pull your hand back, landing an elbow to his temple.

San was still taking on his two guys, landing an uppercut on one of them but not before he received a hit on his ribs. He doubled over, clutching his side but deciding to lung at the man with a burst of energy.

The third man chose that moment to jump in, barreling towards San but you intercepted him, kicking the back of his knee. He went down with a grunt, grabbing your ankle and yanking you off balance.

San grabbed the guy by the collar, yanking him back before throwing a punch at the guy’s nose, knocking him out cold.

Breathing heavily, you got to your feet, glancing at San. His lip was split, his hand pressed to his side where a bruise was already forming underneath his button up.

“Nice save,” You say, brushing the dirt off of your pants.

“Yeah.. Don’t mention it,” he said, wincing as he straightened up. “Seriously, don’t. I’ll never hear the end of it if you do.”

You roll your eyes scanning the scene in front of you. The men were sprawled out on the ground, groaning faintly.

“We should leave before more of them show up.” You said, walking back out of the entrance, heading to the car again. San didn’t respond, only following behind you, slightly wincing.

You drove off somewhere a bit more private and away from the warehouse before anymore henchman could attack you. San’s head was rested against the window as he continued to clutch his side.

You parked the car before reaching into your backseat, grabbing a first aid kit you kept with you at all times. You pulled out a cloth, wetting it with a small water bottle that was half empty from all the times you had to clean your own wounds.

“San,” you called him, earning a faint hum from him.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head off of the window, looking at you and then the cloth in your hand. He didn’t say anything, but instead he reciprocated.

Hesitantly, you leaned in a bit, getting a better look at the wound on his lip, dry blood decorated the corner of his mouth and down his chin. You brought the cloth up to his wound, applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes tightly as he braced himself for the pain.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, softly patting it.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until San opened his eyes again, looking down at how focused you were. You caught his gaze, your face warming at the sight of him staring at you so intently.

The two of you didn’t say anything as you cleaned around his lip, patting it one more time to get the last bit of blood.

You were going to put the kit away before realizing that he still had one more injury. You reached back into the case, pulling out an instant cold pack, placing it to the side.

“I need you to unbutton your shirt.” You spoke softly, looking away for a moment.

San took in a breath for a moment, before readjusting himself in the seat, unbuttoning the gray vest and the white button up that was under it. He grimaced as he moved the sides of his shirt out of the way, his chest now on display. You glanced down at the area for a moment, noticing old scars that were there.

Your gaze then fell to his left side, where the area was now swelling up and slightly bruised. You reached out, running your fingers over it lightly, making San jump a bit at the contact.

“Sorry,” you said again. “I’m just gonna put this cool pack on it so the swelling can go down a bit.”

San nodded, his head falling back against the window while he waited for you to place the pack to his side. You felt bad for him, seeing how much pain he was in. But this was your job. These were the things that came with it.

You took the ice pack in your hand, bringing it to where the swelling was, resting it against the injury gently. San exhaled deeply, placing his larger hand over yours, pressing the ice pack into his side.

You shifted in your seat, beginning to pull your hand away from his side until he stopped you.

“No,” he murmured, his hand still remaining on top of yours. He opened his eyes to look down at where your hands were intertwined.

“Just stay.”

You stepped out of your car, your dress falling to your ankles as you smoothed out the material, shifting in it to make sure you were comfortable. It was a simple black velvet off-the shoulder gown, silver gem embroidery along the front. The back of the dress dipped low, just enough to reveal the curve of your spine.

You quickly placed your mask over your face, the material black with silver details to match your gown.

“Look at you,” a voice spoke from next to you. It was San, stepping out of his own car now, dressed in a sleek black suit.

“This mission just got so much more exciting.” He adds with a smile, licking his lips a bit. You scoff, starting to walk off without him but he catches up not too long after.

The mansion stood tall in front of you, the lights outside of it bright and golden. There were soft strains of classical music coming from the courtyard, mixing with the hum of expensive cars and the chatter of guests.

You and San both walked among them, blending in and acting natural. In reality, you both kept your eyes wide and your ears open, looking for any signs of your target.

As you were heading to the entrance, you felt San’s hand slip behind you, resting on the small of your back.

You almost jumped out of your skin, whipping your head around to look at him, “What are you doing?”

“Playing the part, of course.” He nodded his head at the people ahead of you, some of them seemed like they were couples, wrapped up in each other’s arms or guiding one another around as they linked arms.

“Oh, absolutely not—“ you were quick to lean away from him, but his fingers pressed into your side now, tightening his grip on you.

“Stop being so stubborn,” he said, continuing to walk. You looked up at him to see his expression nothing but calm. He was way too good at being undercover. But nonetheless, you remained nonchalant, following his lead.

Inside of the mansion, there were even more people, which almost made you nervous. How would you be able to find Hongjoong inside when half the town was there?

But you were able to recognize your team right away. Yunho was on the stairwell, speaking with a woman dressed in a red cocktail dress. Seonghwa was also there, in the middle of the gala, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

You scanned the room for any signs of the captain, but he was no where to be found— until everyone turned in the same direction.

The room had quieted down and everyone had stopped to look in the same spot. On the far side of the room, Hongjoong was coming down another staircase with two men on his side. One was tall with a sharp gaze and the other was a familiar face— Wooyoung. They were dressed in black but Hongjoong had on a blazer that exposed a bit of his chest. His hair was sleek and combed back neatly.

You saw Seonghwa turn to face you and San, beckoning you both over to where he was standing.

“I didn’t know you would be here, Hwa,” you whispered as he handed you both a small black device to which you assumed were earpieces. You both quickly placed them in your ear before anyone could notice anything.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. You could tell he was a bit on edge, but not in a fearful way. He was angry. Hongjoong had been known to taunt Seonghwa a lot, but he’d never actually taken anything from him before. You’d always thought he was all talk.

“I need to make sure that asshole gets caught.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted yours, “Welcome, all!”

It was Hongjoong. You turned back to see him grinning from the stairwell that he continued to stand on.

“I’m so glad everyone could be here tonight, seeing as I’m making my departure.” He said with a frown, making people ‘aww’ and make noises in disagreement.

As Hongjoong continued to speak about his gala and whatever else he wanted to boast about, you couldn’t help but notice the absence of the amulet. It wasn’t around his neck where it usually rested.

“He doesn’t have it,” you whispered to San and Seonghwa, causing them both to look closely at his neck. Nothing else was said, but Seonghwa gave cues to Yunho from across the room before turning back to you.

“Yunho and some of the other guys are gonna search the mansion, I need you two to keep eyes on Hongjoong, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere near those rooms on the second and third floor.” He explained quietly.

“What about you?” San asked him.

“I’ll still be down here but trying to stay out of his sight. If he knows I’m here then he’ll know the rest of you are, as well.” Seonghwa responded.

The party resumed once Hongjoong’s small speech was over, making you and San move away from Seonghwa a bit, not wanting to draw any attention to him or yourselves.

San pulled you to an area where people were dancing, causing you to hesitate for a moment, but somehow he spoke you into it.

“It’ll be fun,” he suggested, holding your hand tightly.

“San, we need to keep an eye on Hongjoong.” You whispered, not wanting to mention his name too loudly.

“I’m a great multitasker.” He teased. You sighed, looking back at where Seonghwa was standing. You really couldn’t mess up this mission but you needed to loosen up a bit, have some fun.

The music in the grand hall shifted, taking a slower rhythm. The soft hum of the violins and the gentle thrum of a bass made the air feel more charged.

San pulled you close, your chest pressed against his as you began to move to the music. His hand rested on your back, his fingers moving against your spine at times, caressing the area. You hand was intertwined with his, yet again, bringing you back to the moment between you when you helped him with his wounds.

You scanned the room for a moment to make sure nobody was watching too closely before turning back to San. Something about the way he looked at you—calm, yet determined—made your heart flutter.

“Relax,” he said suddenly, smiling down at you— a stark contrast to his usual cocky smirks.

“I am relaxed.” You responded, looking away from him for a moment. You wanted to escape his gaze.

“No,” he chuckled. “You’re tense.. and very jumpy. Just relax a bit.”

Your movements started off tentative, but you started to get the hang of it. San led with confidence that was impossible to resist. His steps were smooth, almost as if he’d done this before. Soon, you found yourself falling into rhythm with him.

“How’s your side?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“Not too bad, thanks to you.” His eyes locked with yours making you feel like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

The space between you shrank, the warmth of his body brushing against yours with every step. His hand flattened against your back, drawing you closer than before. It wasn’t a move that anyone else would notice, but to you, it was electrifying.

The music swelled, and San spun you in a graceful arc, his hand never leaving yours. When you came back to him, your faces were mere inches apart, and for a moment, you thought he might lean in.

Your breath hitched. Did you want him to?

“I gotta say,” he started, his voice more tender. “I didn’t think you’d say yes to dancing with me.”

“And why not?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I honestly thought you’d rather stab me than hold my hand.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “Good to know you’re enjoying this, then.”

The song began to fade out, but neither of you stopped moving. The moment stretched on and your eyes never left his. You suddenly hoped that he’d lean in just a bit further, let his lips touch yours.

“San,” you whispered, blinking up at him slowly.

“Hm?”

But the once calm and intimate moment was cut short, loud commotion erupted from across the room, causing both of you to whip your head into the direction. Hongjoong was now moving through the crowd with a scowl on his face.

“They’re coming up to the third floor,” Yunho’s voice came through in the earpiece, indicating that him and the rest of the team had been caught.

You turned to see Seonghwa already giving you and San a curt nod, quickly responding to Yunho and moving to the stairwell.

“Let’s go, partner,” San called out playfully, grabbing your hand as you both followed Seonghwa, keeping a close ye on Hongjoong.

As the two of you continued your mission, you couldn’t ignore the lingering warmth of his touch or the memory of how close he was. You couldn’t stand him at first, but now you were slowly starting to see why Seonghwa had paired you up with him.

• • •

[floofyfungi]

Summary:

Bulkhead is a great green dragon hiding in a cave, licking his wounds after a vicious battle with the Decepticons.

Miko is tasked with finding and killing a dragon.

She half succeeds.

[angelbaby191]

Love in the Woods

Fantasy! Bakugo x Reader

TW: HEAVY Fluff

The forest was alive with twilight’s embrace. Shafts of golden light filtered through the canopy, bathing the world in an amber glow. The air was thick with the sweet aroma of blooming honeysuckle, mingled with the earthy scent of moss and pine. Somewhere in the distance, a soft trill of birdsong accompanied the rustling of leaves.

A quiet hum beneath the soft twilight that seemed to stretch endlessly overhead. Each step forward revealed a new layer of beauty: the faint rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush, the cool, damp scent of moss mingling with the sweetness of jasmine, and the distant bubbling of a hidden stream.

"Hey," Bakugo barked over his shoulder, his gruff voice shattering the tranquil ambiance. "Ya plannin’ on keeping up, or am I supposed to carry yer lazy ass through this whole forest?"

You rolled your eyes, quickening your steps until you were beside him. "You know, if you weren't constantly yelling, this might actually be a peaceful walk."

He snorted, the sound full of his usual bravado. "Peaceful's just another word for boring."

“And yet you brought me here,” you countered, casting him a sidelong glance.

Bakugo's lips twitched, his expression unreadable. “You wouldn’t shut up about wanting to see this place. Figured it’d shut you up for a while.”

You smirked, refusing to rise to the bait. "How thoughtful of you, Katsuki. Truly selfless."

“Tch. Whatever,” he muttered, his eyes flicking away. But the pink creeping up his neck betrayed him, and you felt a small swell of victory.

Ahead, the trees began to thin, revealing a small clearing bathed in the faint glow of moonlight. The sight took your breath away. Fireflies danced like tiny stars, their golden light illuminating the clearing in a way that felt otherworldly. The grass was soft and lush, dotted with wildflowers that seemed to shimmer under the fireflies' glow.

Bakugo walked ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his crimson eyes darting around the trees as though expecting an ambush. You trailed behind him, your cloak brushing against wildflowers that reached out as if begging for attention.

"Watch your step," he called, though he didn’t glance back.

“I’m not a child,” you replied, though the warmth in his tone made your heart skip..

You adjusted the hem of your cloak as you stepped carefully over a gnarled root, the ground beneath you uneven but springy. Bakugo was ahead, his familiar silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of fireflies. His usual energy was still there—sharp, crackling, like embers in a forge—but there was something quieter tonight.

“Oi, pick up the pace,” Bakugo called over his shoulder. His voice, gruff as always, carried an edge of impatience.

“I’m coming,” you replied evenly, smoothing your expression into something serene. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction—not yet, at least.

“Tch. At this rate, we’ll be here till dawn.”

You bit back a smile, quickening your steps just enough to match his long strides. “You know, if you wanted to rush through this, maybe a forest wasn’t the best place to go.”

He stopped suddenly, turning to glare at you. The way his crimson eyes caught the fading sunlight made your breath hitch, though you’d never admit it aloud.

“I didn’t drag you here to hear you complain,” he shot back.

“Oh, so you admit you dragged me here?” you countered, tilting your head in mock innocence.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, his hand jerking up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s not like that, dumbass. You said you liked this kind of crap, so I figured—whatever. Let’s just go.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, light and genuine. His scowl deepened at the sound, though the pink creeping up his neck told a different story.

“Fine, fine,” you said, falling into step beside him. “Lead the way, oh fearless guide.”

His reply was a low grumble, but he didn’t shake you off when your shoulder brushed his.

The two of you wandered deeper into the forest, the world around you growing softer, quieter, as though the trees themselves were leaning in to listen. The path narrowed, and Bakugo stepped in front of you, brushing aside low-hanging branches with a gruffness that belied his careful movements.

The forest looked truly magical. The way the moonlight hit their the leaves and branches of the trees overhead, made you feel inca fairy tale. You twirled around slowly, to gaze upon all the wonders of the forest.

He snorted at your silliness but stepped along. Continuing to walk along the path to this ‘secret’ metring spot for the two of you, his movements uncharacteristically slow, deliberate. “Looks like a damn fairytale,” he grumbled.

“Exactly,” you replied, your voice soft. “Even you can admit it’s beautiful.”

Bakugo crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one who wanted to see it.”

There was a pause, the weight of his words settling over you. You stepped closer to him, your boots barely making a sound against the grass. “Thank you, Katsuki,” you said, your voice quiet but sincere.

He glanced at you, his crimson eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “Stop thanking me,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “It’s annoying.”

You laughed softly, and the sound seemed to ease something in him.

The path wound deeper into the woods, the trees growing denser and the air cooler. Every step revealed something new: a patch of flowers that seemed to shimmer with an inner light, or a cluster of mushrooms glowing faintly blue in the gathering dusk.

You paused to admire a particularly beautiful scene—a small clearing where the ground was carpeted with tiny, star-shaped blossoms. “Look at this,” you breathed, crouching to touch one of the petals. It was soft and cool, like silk under your fingers.

“Hurry up,” Bakugo called, his tone sharp. “We don’t have all night.”

You rolled your eyes but stood, brushing your hands against your cloak. “You know, you could try appreciating the moment for once.”

He snorted. “I appreciate that I’m not sitting around doing nothing.”

“Funny, because that’s basically what we’re doing now,” you shot back, unable to resist.

“Is it?” He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The intensity in his gaze sent a jolt through you. “Feels more like you’re wasting my time.”

The words stung, even though you knew him well enough to hear the unspoken layers beneath them. Still, you crossed your arms, lifting your chin. “No one asked you to come, Bakugo.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his jaw working. Then he let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re such a pain.”

“And yet here you are,” you pointed out, your tone softening.

His eyes flicked away, the blush from earlier making a reappearance. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta make sure you don’t trip over your own feet.”

The tension broke as quickly as it had formed, and the two of you continued walking. The silence between you was companionable now, broken only by the occasional quip or observation.

“Why do these bugs glow?” Bakugo asked at one point, swatting half-heartedly at a firefly that had ventured too close to his face.

“It’s called bioluminescence,” you explained. “Certain creatures can produce light through a chemical reaction in their bodies.”

“Sounds fake.”

You laughed. “Of course you’d say that.”

The evening deepened, and the forest grew darker. The fireflies became your only source of light, their golden glow flickering like tiny lanterns. Somewhere nearby, the gentle trickle of water hinted at a stream.

You reached it soon after, the sight taking your breath away. The stream was narrow but swift, its surface catching the faint light and reflecting it like a ribbon of silver. Flowers lined its banks, their colors muted but still vibrant in the low light.

Bakugo stood beside you, his usual tension replaced with something quieter. He crouched by the stream, scooping up a handful of water and letting it trickle through his fingers.

“It’s not so bad,” he admitted, his voice low.

You smiled, watching the way his shoulders relaxed. “See? I knew you had a softer side.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, though the words lacked their usual bite.

The fireflies swirled around you, their light painting soft golden patterns on Bakugo’s sharp features. You could see the faint furrow in his brow, the way his shoulders were tense despite the serene setting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, too quickly. Then, after a beat, he let out a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m not used to this... crap.”

“This crap?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he snapped, though his tone lacked heat. “All this... quiet. It’s weird.”

You smiled, stepping closer until you could feel the faint warmth radiating from him. “You don’t have to do anything, Katsuki. Just... be here.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the fireflies seemed to pause in their dance. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race, but you didn’t look away. The grass and twigs cracked and crunched beneath him as he moved closer.

“You’re really something,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. His touch was tentative, as though afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you turned your hand, your fingers curling around his.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Bakugo leaned closer, his movements slow, almost hesitant. “You’re gonna laugh,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I won’t,” you promised, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

He searched your eyes for a moment longer before closing the distance between you. His lips were warm, soft, and surprisingly gentle against yours, a stark contrast to the fiery personality you were so used to. The kiss was brief but left you breathless, the taste of him lingering like a spark.

When he pulled back, his ears were red, and he refused to meet your gaze. “Don’t make it a big deal,” he muttered.

You smiled, your heart feeling impossibly light. “Okay,” you said softly. “I won’t.”

The fireflies resumed their dance, swirling around the two of you like a constellation brought to earth. And in that tiny clearing, surrounded by the quiet magic of the forest, it felt as though the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of you and the bond growing stronger with each passing moment.

[starkenobi]

The White Wolf | Bucky Barnes x reader

masterlist — warnings: fantasy; romance; werewolf!bucky; pirate!reader; prince!bucky; stark!reader; soulmates.

Summary: She's one of the greatest pirates of her time, bringing chaos throughout the human kingdoms... Until an unfortunate event changes her life completely. And the white wolf makes sure to be definitive.

The salty breeze of a typical hot day, the clear blue sky mixing with the deep blue ocean as they meet on the horizon, the sun at its peak illuminating and guiding the way. A moment of calm that Y/N wouldn't trade for anything, the feeling of belonging that only the sea could provide her.

Of course, things weren't always easy, the life she chose constantly provided an adrenaline rush, the need to fight to conquer what she wanted. Gaining fame early on, she rarely needed to worry about surviving. Not when the supernatural was on the same side, being the biggest client for her services. Dealing with other humans was one of the least of her concerns and for the Phantom crew.

There was some truth to the rumors circulating on land. Y/N Stark had renounced the golden spoon in which she was born, preferring to take possession of a ship and embrace the title of pirate. With her money, power and influence, she became one of the worst nightmares of the entire kingdom, making sure to leave her mark of chaos while plundering the rulers and their court. The pirates of Phantom enjoyed destroying the royal plans, getting in the way, especially when the royalty pursued the supernatural.

To further fuel the rumors, a new commander - from the royal guard of the largest kingdom to declare war on Y/N - was chosen for the mission to arrest the pirate. Tony Stark, her twin.

This should have been the sign that she should be more careful and prepare for the time when she'd have to face her brother. However, Y/N still had a fondness for him and memories of their youth were her weak point. But, certainly, no one expected that the always fair commander Tony Stark would attack during a storm, with no intention of taking the Phantom crew members to prison or alive, especially his own twin. 'You are a disgrace' were the only words the male Stark said before shooting the pirate he once called sister. The commander's cold, emotionless face was the last thing Y/N saw before she was swallowed by the dark waters of the sea.

"Man overboard! Attention, starboard!"

What should have been a calm routine patrol, with all the peace agreements between the four empires, quickly became a day of uncertainties. Under the watchful eyes of Captain Natasha, the crew members quickly moved to save whoever was overboard, placing the body on the deck. A woman. Natasha frowned, watching Clint - her faithful second-in-command - approach to see if the woman was dead or not.

"What is it, Clint?" The redhead arched an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer when she noticed the paleness on her companion's face. "Is she still alive?"

"Yes, she’ll need care for dehydration, maybe she was at sea for a couple of days..." Clint swallowed hard, raising the arm he was holding and showing the unconscious woman's wrist "She has the mark, Tasha."

The big white wolf appeared on the deserted beach, its paws leaving a trail in the sand. However, what caught Y/N's attention the most were its teeth bared in threat. James Buchanan Barnes was angry and didn't seem to want to talk. The pirate rolled her eyes, soaked from head to toe and exhausted from the effort she had made to get there. She couldn't believe that the so-called prince of the beautiful lupine kingdom was so temperamental.

Sure, Y/N stole a small boat and tried to leave, but, in her defense, she had unfinished business to resolve outside of that island of wolves. It wouldn't be a mark she had since birth, which the wolves say is the symbol of a soulmate, that’d make her lower her head and accept orders. Y/N was a pirate, the greatest pirate at that time, it was her obligation to maintain her status and avenge her crew.

“No, that’s absurd!” The pirate grumbled in disbelief as she felt Bucky grab her clothes and drag her across the sand. “Bad boy!”

However, the pirate's complaints were ignored no matter how much she screamed and struggled, the wolf being much stronger than the human. Crossing her arms, Y/N stopped screaming but continued to complain, determined to maintain her dissatisfaction even as she began to be dragged through the soft grass that led towards the castle. Bucky only released her when they were close enough to the prince's two best friends, Steve and Sam, who were waiting for them with a huge smile on their faces.

“Of course you’d find this all amusing.” Y/N rolled her eyes, hating how easily the two helped her up from the ground. Breaking away from them, the pirate tried to maintain what little dignity she had left, trying to clean her clothes from the salt water, sand and grass in vain. “I can’t believe I’m a prisoner in this place.”

A growl interrupted her chatter, Y/N didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “So being my soulmate is the same thing as being a prisoner, Stark?”

The pirate's ears turned red, quickly turning on her heels to face Bucky, she exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. "That's not what I meant!"

The prince rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore it, taking one of her hands and walking in silence. The two friends fell behind when they realized that Bucky had followed the path to the secret garden, knowing that the couple needed privacy at the moment.

It wasn't the first time Y/N had tried to leave, with a series of failed attempts, all of them looking like the clear act of a lost person. And that was what the pirate could be classified as, it was never easy to suddenly recover part of one's memory. When she was taken to the hospital wing, she remained in a coma for weeks, causing a commotion even when she was unconscious. Because, as if it wasn't enough that the prince's soulmate was a pirate, she was also human.

But it didn't matter to Bucky, who made visits late at night in the hope that she’d wake up and finally meet him. The news of who the unconscious woman was arrived like a meteor, or rather, it arrived through a messenger from the aquatic people who - with a certain delay - warned about the great pirate who chose to protect the magical world from others of her own kind. Bucky felt his chest fill with pride, knowing that his soulmate was a good person despite so many atrocities collected under her belt.

However, Y/N woke up with no memories, amnesia even stealing her name. Each day was a new discovery, of what she liked, what she knew, what she couldn't stand. Bucky was always by her side, the days turned into weeks, which turned into months, the two of them naturally drew closer like magnets. Almost eight months had passed when Bucky was abruptly woken from his sleep, Y/N tossing and crying in the middle of a nightmare, the memories returning like a terrible storm.

From then on, the pirate had changed drastically, somewhat confused because of her personality from when she had no memory clashing with the past. She seemed to fight against the feelings she had developed for Bucky, in a stupid attempt to return to the pirate life and get revenge on her own brother. But, at the same time, Y/N seemed not to want to complete such a thought, always leaving clues about her escape plans.

“You need to leave the past in the past, sweetheart.” The wolf finally broke the silence, both of them sitting on a bench that overlooked the beach in the distance. “I already told you, I don’t want to keep you here, we can organize for you to continue your mission to help the supernatural… But in the right way.”

“Do you think humans will leave it behind too when they find out I’m alive?” She replied, but without aggression, staring at the horizon with a certain sadness.

Bucky sighed, resting his forehead on her shoulder, squeezing their still intertwined hands lightly. "We are connected, they will respect you. Even if I have to make them kneel again."

Y/N didn't answer, she knew the prince would fulfill any promise he made, he’d use the power he had in his hands without thinking twice. And that was what Y/N feared, she didn't want Bucky risking himself and putting the island in danger because of her. She needed to make a definitive choice.

The famous pirate Stark was truly dead. Two years later, Y/N lived happily as the wife of Prince James Barnes, proudly bearing the mark of her soulmate on her arm. Secretly working with Natasha, Clint and Steve to continue the mission of protecting the supernatural, the magical kingdoms united to also fight against human laws - with the help and knowledge of Y/N. Things were going well, they were gradually gaining more security and strength, conquering space in human territory. Of course, far from the big cities it was still extremely difficult, but everyone had hope that everything would improve.

Everything was going well, until Y/N made a mistake.

“So you’re alive!” the great commander Tony Stark growled in disbelief, the revolver in his hand pointed at the ex-pirate, who refused to pick up her own weapon. “I should have known you were behind all this.”

“Tony, please, I have nothing to do with this mess.” Y/N muttered, raising her hands slightly in a sign of surrender. Her eyes calculated a possible escape, but she was once again cornered by her brother. “I’m not that woman you killed anymore.”

Tony laughed mockingly, without any humor, and without saying anything, pulled the trigger, hitting one of Y/N’s arms. She let out a grunt of pain and surprise, her body crashing against the railing of the huge bench. “Do you want me to believe that you didn’t kill these people? You didn’t plan on stealing important files and scriptures for personal gain? Wasn't it enough to have stolen everything from our family?”

“Damn it, Anthony! I was in a secret meeting with these people, until a traitor from the current human government attacked us!” Y/N said, feeling sadness mix with pain, her eyes unfocusing for a moment.

“Once a traitor, always a traitor.” Tony spat the words, ignoring what she was trying to say.

“Shit, can’t you see that this was an ambush to create a war between humans and the supernatural?”

Y/N screamed. Tony aimed the revolver again, but what neither of them expected was an aggressive growl to break the moment and a huge white wolf to appear, jumping on Tony without thinking twice.

The royal commander swore, trying to defend himself from the attack with his own fists. In the midst of the fight, the man managed to retrieve the revolver despite the wolf’s bites and scratches. Y/N, who had frozen in shock, moved without realizing it, throwing herself to protect the wolf from the new shot.

A howl of pure despair and then Y/N saw nothing but darkness.

The sky blended with the blue of the ocean, the salty breeze caressing her face and messing up her hair, the sun illuminating and leaving a certain glow on everything it touched, the scent of the flowers that took over the entire garden. A smile took over Y/N’s lips, closing her eyes to enjoy that moment of plenitude. Of peace. The feeling of being on solid ground was soothing, the sea became just a second home.

“For a moment I thought you had run away.” Bucky’s voice sounded beside her, making Y/N open her eyes to look at her beloved.

Y/N smiled knowingly, sighing when the wolf pulled her body into a tight hug. “That’d be ridiculous, James, you have that wolf radar that would locate me in an instant.”

“Right.” Placing a kiss on his wife’s neck, Bucky took a deep breath before murmuring. “Your brother woke up.”

“How is he?”

Bucky shrugged. “So far he has accepted that he’s no longer fully human.”

Y/N wanted to cry in relief, but she only allowed herself to turn around and kiss him on the lips. “Thank you for saving him.”

The truth is that Bucky, at first, never imagined that one day he would save Tony, not after the way he met him and the second attempt to kill his own sister. However, it was impossible to deny his beloved's request, especially when she woke up in tears begging to give Tony a chance and that it had all been just a communication error. Well, besides the fact that Steve had taken an interest in the human. Something about soulmates too.

That night of the ambush, Bucky didn't attack the commander to kill him, he wanted to capture him to get answers. It was months of turmoil until Y/N recovered, but any family fight they had to resolve was interrupted by a war between humans and the supernatural.

Unfortunately, Y/N decided that she’d settle the war with her own hands before it really started, something about pirate honor - even though she hadn't been one for years. Bucky thought he would lose her forever. Until Tony showed up almost dead with a Y/N in a similar state, the Stark brothers went together to fix the mess they claimed to have caused. Everyone disagreed, but something the Starks had in common was stubbornness. The result was the fall of the human royalty and the Stark brothers receiving the bite to survive their injuries.

“Anything for you, my moon.” Bucky smiled mischievously, making Y/N roll her eyes despite her blushing face.

“Bad dog as always.” Y/N retorted to hide how much her beloved’s words affected her.

With a growl of false irritation, the wolf pulled her in for another kiss, full of affection and whispered against Y/N’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my sun.”

The two remained there, enjoying each other’s presence, and Y/N for a moment felt grateful for all the choices she had made, even the wrong ones. Because everything led her to James.

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

note: english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

[lilacmingi]

CAPTAIN HOOK (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Captain Hook!Yunho x fem!reader (ft Oneus + Dongmyeong from Onewe as The Lost Boys hehe)

Word count: 4,600

You huffed, pushing past the thick plants in front of you, large leaves smacking against your arms and face as you trekked ahead.

You just escaped those rambunctious group of guys who call themselves The Lost Boys—they were horrid. No manners, no respect, and certainly no dignity. Their leader was just as awful and drove you mad with all of his whooping and hollering.

You thought maybe they'd help you out, seeing as they were the only people you'd seen on this dreaded island, but all they did was party and play pranks.

Quite frankly, you couldn't stand it. So, you left. You'd rather be alone and lost in this dense forest than be stuck with those hooligans.

Now, here you are, trying to find your way through the thick greenery that overtook the majority of this forest; it seemed never-ending, like you were going around in circles. Everywhere you turned looked exactly the same, until you came to a small clearing.

You let out a huff, taking in your surroundings.

"Now what?" You inquired aloud, exasperated from pushing all the plants away from you.

You stood for a while, wondering where to go next. You turned left, trees and a thick overgrowth of leaves. You turned right, same thing. No matter where you went, each direction was akin to the other. You couldn't tell a difference between left and right, forward and backward. Next thing you knew, you had forgotten which way you came from.

"Seems like you're lost."

The new voice that seemed to come out of nowhere was accompanied by the rustling of leaves.

You spun around to face the man, stopping when you realized it was someone new—a person you hadn't seen before.

So there are other people here. You thought to yourself.

His attire was much different than that of the Lost Boys. Their clothes were messy and unkempt; shirts covered in dirt and tucked haphazardly into their patched trousers.

This man before you was dressed in a copacetic ensemble.

He wore a white dress shirt with ruffles around the collar, a deep maroon colored leather coat that draped behind him, and pants that matched the coat. His boots looked rather shiny despite him obviously traipsing through the dense undergrowth. One peculiar thing you noticed was that he had a hook for a hand. You'd be lying if you said the menacing appendage didn't put you on edge.

"I'm not lost." You lied, keeping your guard up.

"You're lying."

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but I don't need help from you. I don't need help from anyone here." You spoke rather snappily, taking a step back.

Big mistake.

In an instant, a huge net emerged from the ground, yanking you upwards and trapping you inside.

The net swung back and forth due to the momentum of your whole body being snatched up into the air.

"This day can't possibly get any worse." You grumbled to yourself, wiggling around in the trap that was no doubt set up by the group of troublemakers—that's how you ended up with them in the first place, after all.

The man stood below, staring up at you with the most smug expression you had ever seen.

"What was it you said about not needing help from anyone here?" He smirked.

You scowled down at him.

"You know, I could be of service to you." He pulled the left side of his coat back, revealing a sword. "If you'll accept my help."

"I can get myself out, thank you very much."

"Okay, you have fun with that." He crossed his arms, staring up at you with an amused expression.

You wiggled around, hoisting yourself up by grabbing near the top of the net. You attempted to get into a standing position as you balanced on the netting below. This worked for a moment only to fail miserably when you lost your balance and your foot slipped through the netting.

"Need my help, now?" The man asked, quirking a brow.

"Fine." You huffed.

"Alright. I'll get you down... if you tell me your name."

"Why should I tell you that?"

"So you can get out of that awful trap you're in." He answered.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the man spoke again.

"Need I remind you, you just failed to get out on your own."

"Fine, I'll do it."

"Tell me your name first."

"Cut me down first."

The man made a tsk sound and shook his head. "No can do. I'm not cutting you down until you tell me your name."

"That's not happening."

"Alright then. I hope that net is comfortable, because you'll be stuck there all night."

"My name is Y/n." You told him, fed up with his stubbornness.

"What was that?"

"Y/n is my name."

He grinned proudly, pulling his sword from its sheath.

"Wait." You spoke up, clutching the net. "I'll fall if you cut it."

"It's just a five foot fall. It's not that bad."

You shook your head.

"I'll catch you."

Your eyes went to the hook on his left hand, staring warily at the sharp weapon.

"It's fake." He told you.

After you gave him a skeptical look, he pulled the hook off and tossed it aside, showing you his hand—his very pretty hand.

"See? I only wear it to intimidate people."

"Alright. Go ahead and cut me down."

He slung his sword towards the rope that was holding up the snare trap, which was cut in half immediately. He hastily stood underneath you, catching you just in time.

You let out a grunt as you landed roughly in his arms. When you looked up at him, you were breathless, and it wasn't from the fall. Sure, he was good-looking from afar, but even more so up close. His dark hair hung neatly around his features, the deep red highlights in his locks showing in the sunlight.

You quickly cleared your throat. "You can put me down now."

He then placed you on the ground and helped to remove the net.

"Those stupid boys set that up, I have no doubt." You huffed.

"You mean The Lost Boys?" The man asked.

"Yeah. Them." You grimaced.

"Troublemakers, aren't they?"

"Very much so." You sighed. "Anyway, thanks for getting me out of that. I should get going now."

"Wait." The man stopped you. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know. Somewhere."

"Why don't you come with me?" He asked, putting the fake hook back over his hand. "You know, I could use a woman on my crew."

"Your crew?"

"Of course. There's plenty of room on my ship."

"Your ship?"

"Ah. I haven't introduced myself. The name's Yunho. Captain Yunho."

"A pirate?" You questioned, quirking a brow.

"Of course." He grinned proudly. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I can't say I expected to see pirates here."

"Then you clearly don't know Neverland."

"Neverland? Is that what this place is called?"

"It is. You don't seem to know much about Neverland."

"Of course I don't. I'm not from here."

"That explains why you don't know your way around. Why don't you allow me to assist you? I could even give you a place to stay."

You narrowed your eyes at Yunho, still a bit suspicious of him.

"If you come with me you can stay on my ship with me and my crew."

You mulled the idea over in your head for a moment. This man did seem much more sensible than those scoundrels. Part of you would much rather go with this pirate as opposed to being out in the woods alone, falling into traps and running into animals.

"Alright."

"That's a yes, I presume?"

"It is."

"Very well then." He smiled. "Follow me."

The two of you trudged through the dense overgrowth of foliage and evergreens until the thick vegetation became more sparse. You emerged from the verdure and were met with the stunning view of a beach. The crystal clear turquoise waters beyond the shore were sparkling under the sunlight. Situated out in the water was a magnificent ship sitting proudly in the endless ocean.

"That's your ship?" You asked, your mouth hanging open in awe.

"That it is." He beamed, gazing out at the nautical vessel. "The Jolly Roger."

"Wow."

Yunho proceeded across the beach. You hurriedly followed behind, kicking up sand as you did so. The captain was tall and had long legs that carried him further than yours, so it was difficult to keep up, especially in the sand.

The Jolly Roger was even more impressive up close. The monstrous vessel towered over you and Yunho, bobbing ever so slightly with the waves.

"Come on." Yunho instructed, stepping down the dock.

You followed the pirate up the gangplank and onto the ship where one of his crew mates approached him, looking a bit frazzled.

"Captain, there you are." He seemed relieved.

"I told you I was going for a walk." Yunho told him.

"Yes, but you were gone longer than I expected." The man explained. He then glanced at you with a bewildered expression. "Who is this?"

"This is Y/n."

"A woman?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that, Smee?" Yunho asked, eyeing the man who you assumed was Smee.

"N-no, sir. Not at all." He shook his head frantically.

"Good." Smiled Yunho. "Let's set sail."

The wind pushed on the large sails, propelling the giant ship forward, away from the dock. You stood with your arms resting on the rustic wooden railing of the ship, watching as it departed. You could feel the crew's eyes on you letting you know that women on the ship was probably very uncommon, perhaps even taboo. You hoped that you made the right decision choosing to come onto this ship.

You heard the soft thumping of boots behind you, turning your attention to the sound. Yunho approached the railing, a soft smile on his face.

"Your crew is staring." You pointed out.

"Well, they're not exactly used to seeing women."

"Ever? At all?"

"There aren't many women here. Except mermaids, of course."

"Mermaids?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your tone.

"Yes." Yunho nodded. "They have their own lagoon where they hang around. I wouldn't get close if I were you, though."

"Why?"

"They'll drown you. They're rather jealous of women."

"Oh." You frowned.

You thought mermaids were supposed to be nice—apparently not.

"Would you like some fresh clothes?" Yunho offered. "Yours are a little dirty."

You glanced down at your current attire, seeing that it was indeed a mess. There were even some tears in your pants.

"Oh." You muttered. "I suppose I do need a fresh change of clothes."

"Follow me." He gestured, leading you across the deck and down into the sleeping quarters.

Yunho pushed open a door revealing what you assume to be his room. He began rummaging through a wardrobe, pulling out a shirt and pair of pants.

"I hope you don't mind wearing men's clothes."

"Not at all."

"I don't have any boots that would fit you, but I'm sure we can sort something out." He mentioned, handing the clothes to you.

"My shoes will be just fine for now." You assured him. "Thank you."

"You can change in here. I'll step outside."

You gave him a small nod as he left the room. As soon as you heard the door close, you began changing, tossing your soiled clothes onto the floor.

The garments Yunho gave to you were a bit big, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. Plus, you were grateful to have to have clean clothes that weren't stained with dirt and grass.

You gathered your old garments from the floor, wadding them up before opening the door.

Yunho pushed himself off the wall he was previously leaned against and turned to you, a soft blush blossoming on his cheeks.

He didn't realize how appealing you would look in his clothes. He was merely trying to assist you.

"Are they comfortable?" He managed to ask.

"They are."

"You might need a belt or something. That shirt is a little baggy. I have just the thing."

Yunho stepped into the room, momentarily removing his fake hook, and retrieved a scarf from his wardrobe. He held it up with a smile.

He approached you, his eyes meeting yours as he held the scarf out, as if you ask permission to proceed. You nodded and lifted your arms, allowing him to tie the thin scarf around your waist. You watched as his delicate and beautiful hands worked to tie the fabric, ensuring that your shirt fit better.

"There." He hummed to himself. "That should be much better now."

He turned around and retrieved his hook, slipping it back over his hand.

"Now, would you like a tour of the ship?"

"I would love that."

It had been four days since Yunho brought you into his ship and you couldn't be happier. You genuinely enjoyed your time with the captain and being at sea was more exciting than you thought it would be. Yunho and his crew often had celebrations on the deck, singing sea shanties and dancing like there was no tomorrow. The partying was often accompanied by some sort of alcohol.

During one of these celebrations, you and Captain Yunho shared a dance, which was so much fun and your favorite moment with him thus far.

"We're docking for a bit tomorrow to restock supplies." Yunho told you as you made your way to bed.

"Where do you get supplies?" You inquired.

"We scavenge the land for anything we can find and trade when we have to."

"Ah. How long will that take?"

"Not long. An hour, maybe two?"

"Okay." You nodded, letting out a yawn.

"You should get some rest." Yunho said.

You gave a sleepy nod.

"Goodnight." He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

The gesture made your heart jump, but you were too tired to think about it too much.

Once you docked on the beach, you decided to stretch your legs a bit. Yunho's crew got to work quickly, scouring the land for anything they could use. You felt bad just standing and watching, so you asked if you could assist anyone. Yunho politely declined, insisting that you just relax, so you did. Letting out a sigh, you made yourself comfortable on a rock that had been warmed by the sun.

Yunho and his crew went their separate ways, leaving the beach empty and vacant. You stretched your arms and legs, letting out a long sigh as your body relaxed, the heat radiating from the rock soothing your muscles.

Moments later, someone's hand clamp over your mouth, causing your eyes to snap open. Your first instinct was to try and escape, which is exactly what you did. You began to writhe and wiggle, trying to squirm out of your assailant's grip.

You somehow managed to catch a glimpse of the person who currently had their hand over your mouth. It was Hwanwoong, the rowdy leader of The Lost Boys. Seeing him prompted you to try even harder to get away. You even tried to scream, hoping to get someone's attention.

"Shh! Do you want them to hear you?" Hwanwoong hissed.

You struggled in his hold as he dragged you across the beach and through the sand. He was quick to pull you towards a small strip of land away from the main island. He then towed you to a nearby tree line where you saw the dreaded group of six boisterous boys you had escaped from days before.

Once shielded by the trees, Hwanwoong removed his hand from your mouth, but kept a tight hold on you.

"What are you doing?" You whispered harshly.

"What does it look like? We're rescuing you." Hwanwoong stated.

"I don't need to be rescued."

"Oh no. He's already gotten in her head." Keonhee voiced.

"She's been fooled. We need to get her back to the burrow as soon as possible." Seoho stated.

"We'll have to put her in containment for a while until she realizes that she's been brainwashed by pirates." Hwanwoong shook his head, a somber look on his face.

"What? I haven't been brainwashed. I want to stay with the pirates."

"It's worse than I thought." Dongju gasped, dramatically.

"She thinks she belongs with them." Dongmyeong added. "Look. She's even dressing like them."

"That's not—" Before you could finish your sentence, Geonhak came up and tied a piece of cloth around your mouth, the piece of fabric between your teeth, preventing you from speaking.

"Sorry, Y/n." Geonhak apologized quietly. "It's for your own good."

You tried to respond, but it was muffled.

Keonhee approached you with a serious expression as he tied your hands together tightly.

"Alright boys, let's go." Hwanwoong ordered.

You had no choice but to follow them. There were seven guys all around you, there was no way you'd be able to escape.

"Don't worry, Y/n." Dongmyeong spoke up, slinging his arm over your shoulder. "You'll be back to normal soon."The boys took you back to their burrow and put you inside a homemade cell with wooden bars. You wanted to escape, but your hands were tied up and they kept a close eye on you all the way back, so you had no choice but to comply. The only good thing is that Hwanwoong removed the cloth from your mouth, however, your hands were still tied.

"Fellas, this calls for a celebration. We have our dear Y/n back!" Hwanwoong announced.

It didn't take long for the burrow to erupt in chaos. Every single one of them were yelling and throwing stuff across the room. You dropped your head.

This is exactly the behavior that made me want to leave in the first place. You thought to yourself.

"Y/n, aren't you happy to be back?" Dongju asked, approaching your cell, dirt smeared on his face thanks to his twin brother.

"I was happy right where I was." You snapped.

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head in disapproval. Keonhee then showed up, giving Dongju a pat on his back.

"Don't worry. A few days in there and she'll be back to normal." He assured his friend.

"I am normal." You groaned. "What don't you understand?"

"That filthy captain has her mind all mixed up." Dongju grimaced.

"Don't worry yourself. We have her back and that's all that matters. Let's celebrate!" Keonhee dragged Dongju away and back to the "party" leaving you to yourself.

Your finger traced patterns into the dirt floor, a sigh leaving you as you did so. You wondered if Yunho knew you were gone. Would he come looking for you? You would have assumed if he were looking for you, he would be here.

What if he doesn't come back? What if he didn't even notice you were gone?

The two of you had so much fun together over the last few days, you thought maybe you both had a connection.

You shook away the thought, finding it ridiculous that you would even think he'd abandon you, especially after all the fun you had.

Keeping your hopes up was harder than you presumed. The more time passed, the more you thought Yunho may not care about you as much as you thought he did.

He'll never come back and get me. You thought. He was only helping me because I didn't know the area. He'll probably forget about me if he hasn't already.

Meanwhile, Yunho was beginning to worry. Him and his crew were back on the ship, but you had yet to return.

"Captain, what's wrong?" Smee asked.

"Y/n hasn't come back yet. It's time for dinner and she's not here."

"Weren't you keeping an eye on her, sir?"

"I couldn't. Some of the crew needed my help."

Yunho remembered telling you to relax after you offered to help. He saw you lounging on a rock near the water not long after. You looked beautiful with the sun shining down on you, making your skin glow. Next thing he knew, one of his crew mates approached him asking for his assistance. When he came back, you were gone. He assumed you had gone on a walk and decided to wait for you, but you never showed.

"She can't have gone far." Smee assured Yunho.

"I don't think she would have ran off."

"You don't suppose something bad happened to her, do you?"

"I don't know." Yunho murmured, panic slowly rising in him.

He knew you were unfamiliar with the land and worried that you had wandered off to a place you didn't know. He didn't know if the mermaids had gotten you or if a crocodile had eaten you.

"We have to go find her, now." Yunho stated firmly.

"It's too dark. The sun has set, we won't be able to do a proper search, even with lantern light." Smee tells the worried captain.

"Then we'll go first thing tomorrow." He turned towards his crew who seemed to have noticed his uneasy behavior.

"What are you all looking at?" He snapped.

Everyone immediately got back to work, turning their attention away from the stressed Captain.

The next morning, Yunho woke up bright an early, preparing for his search.

Yunho knew that you had previously stayed with The Lost Boys and ran away from them. Having met these boys before, Yunho knew exactly where their hideout was. He's had some disagreements with the boys before, so this wouldn't be his first time in their burrow.

He gathered some of his crew mates to assist him in case things got ugly.

"I know exactly where to search first." He told his crew. "Follow me."

The group trekked through the forest, headed straight towards The Lost Boys' burrow.

Yunho didn't know if you were there or not, but going to the burrow first seemed to be his best bet.

You opened your eyes and sat up, your muscles stiff from sleeping on a thin blanket laid over the dirt floor.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Hwanwoong greeted, floating around the room.

You grimaced at him and turned away.

"Giving me the silent treatment, huh?"

You didn't answer.

"Listen, Y/n, we're only trying to help you."

"You're not helping." You snapped. "I was happy with Yunho."

"Oh, so you're on a first-name basis with that pirate."

"You guys just jumped to conclusions and took me away." You continued, angrily.

"But you were with us first."

The sound of someone coming down the slide to the burrow caught your attention, but only for a moment. You assumed it was one of the boys coming back from setting traps in the woods or whatever it was they do. That's why you were surprised to see who emerged from the slide.

"Yunho?" You gasped.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you.

"Y/n. Thank goodness."

"What's going on?" Seoho asked, hurrying into the room.

"We're under attack." Hwanwoong answered, pulling out a small knife.

"Give Y/n back and no one gets hurt." Yunho spoke.

"She belongs to us."

"No I don't." You spoke up. "Hwanwoong, let me go."

"No. You chose us."

"I didn't choose you. I thought you guys were the only people that lived on this island."

Hwanwoong paused.

"After finding out all you guys wanna do is play pranks and make messes, I decided to leave." You told him. "That's when I found Yunho. He offered me a place to stay and I've quite honestly enjoyed my time with him."

Hwanwoong's brows pulled together as he turned to Yunho.

"You heard the girl. Now let her go." The pirate ordered, his hand hovering over the handle of his sword.

The rest of The Lost Boys were watching cautiously, waiting to see what would happen.

"So you don't like us?" Dongmyeong asked you.

"No, that's not it. You're all just too rowdy for my liking. I wouldn't enjoy my time here."

"And you're not brainwashed?" Hwanwoong asked.

You sighed. "No."

"C'mon boys." Yunho urged. "What do you say? Will you listen to the girl and let her go with who she wants to be with?"

Hwanwoong glanced back at the boys who all gave him small nods.

"Fine." He sighed, walking over to open up the cell door.

He untied your wrists and allowed you to reunite with Yunho. You immediately ran up and enveloped him in a hug, taking in his natural scent that was accompanied by a hint of salt water.

"I'm never leaving you alone. I don't wanna lose you again." Yunho whispered.

"Alright. You have Y/n back." Hwanwoong stated.

"Yes. Thank you. We'll be on our way now."

The boys all gave a small nod as Yunho guided you to a ladder that led above ground.

"Y/n." Seoho called out.

"Yes?"

"Will you come and visit every once in a while?"

You turned to Yunho who gave you a nod.

"Of course."

Yunho hadn't let go of your hand all the way back to the Jolly Roger, even now that you were safe and sound on the ship, he kept his hand clasped with yours. The vessel departed from the dock. You and Yunho stood and watched as you drifter further away from land.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Yunho spoke up, his hand squeezing yours. "I thought something bad happened to you."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you had wandered off and that the mermaids got you, or even a crocodile."

"Nope." You chuckled. "Just kidnapped by heathens."

"I'm relieved. You getting kidnapped made me realize some things and l'd like to tell you them if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. Go on."

"I've really enjoyed my time with you over the past few days. You've brought immense joy to not only this ship, but me as well. I know we've only known each other for less than a week, but I care deeply for you and, if I'm being honest, I've grown quite fond of you."

Yunho's confession made you feel warm inside. No one had ever said that to you before and it made you happy. The pirate was right, you had only known him for five days now, but you felt exactly the same as him.

He brought so much joy to you as well. You were more than grateful that he offered his assistance and gave you a place to stay. He stayed on top of his duties as captain, but also made time to check on you and show you around the ship

"I've grown fond of you as well." You admitted.

Yunho smiled hearing that as he turned to face you. He seemed to have a natural glow to him as he gazed into your eyes, his heart pounding. Slowly, he inched his face closer, letting you know what he wanted.

You leaned in, closing the space between you and Yunho, your lips colliding. The kiss was short, but lingered on your lips even after Yunho pulled away. You glanced down at your feet, feeling bashful after the brief kiss.

Yunho place his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

"I have captain duties to tend to, but maybe later tonight you and I can have ourselves a little date." He quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

Your lips pulled into a smile. "I'd like that."

Hongjoong:Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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[thinemoonshine]

LECHE OF THE SIRENS;THE MASTERLIST

corrupt!enhypen x siren!reader content(s): enhypen being corrupted nobles, (y/n) is a siren, enha are obsessive and possessive, dark romance, mature themes, warnings will be specified at each chapter type: mini series (3 parts)

this could be perfection—or venom dripping in your mouth. singing like a siren, love me while your wrists are bound. you’ve been seeing me in your dreams but, i’ll be there when your reality drowns… i’ll be there when your reality drowns

warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, enha are pathetic, lecherous nobles, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love'

word count: 10.4k

synopsis: seven nobles who are corrupt—embracing the worldly pleasures of venereal activities and greed without caring for anyone nor anything they’ve exploited. seven nobles who know nothing of hardship and the slightest of goodwill as if they’ve been birthed from the fires of hell themselves, meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, jay is a two-faced ‘gentleman,’ he sleeps with (y/n), members are sexually frustrated, sunoo is growing more obsessed with (y/n) by the second, riki and jungwon make their appearance, (y/n) feeds to the nobles’ delusions to get what she wants, heeseung grovels

word count: 8.9k

synopsis: (y/n)’s created a rift between them. she has sunoo wrapped around her finger and she who controls the puppeteer, controls the puppets—but she needs more. time is of the essence and she needs more influence on her side to effectively immobilize the nobles to her every whim within the limited period. so, what better left to do than to subjugate the real genius behind the genius?

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, enhypen are all going insane—sunoo especially, betrayal, death and violence, (y/n) treats the boys like puppets on strings, suggestive themes, the boys sufffer and finally get what they deserve...and more

word count: 17.2k

synopsis: jungwon and riki are now smitten which means that (y/n)'s plan is near perfection. all the nobles have been perfectly strung to be her perfect puppets. now, all that's left is to draw the red curtains open and let the show unfold—finally bestowing upon them the 'reward' that they deserve. a truly picturesque ending is about to befall them... well, at least to (y/n), it is.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 3

(those in pink bolded cannot be tagged) taglist for this series is closed—thank you for supporting ♡

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copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[oatmealdaydreams]

Black Hole Fantasy: I'm pulling in the driveway, I'm turning off the car

Let me know if ya wanna be added on or taken off the general taglist!

Part 1

Inspired By Works: the Shifter Stan AU made by @the-east-art! Check out her stuff, it's super good. Shout out to East!

Pairing: Stan Pines & Ford Pines, gen

Warnings: Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: After reconciling, Stan answers what he can while Ford asks questions about his shifting abilities. Most of them are expected from his nerdy brother: how certain shifts work, what kind of limits there are, what the deal is with partial shifts, and all that. But then Ford asks about how he found out about his abilities, and…and Stan debates if it’s a good idea telling his brother about his time driving in Mount Tammany.  Stan cannot lie to Ford without him seeing right through it, anyway.

Notes: Wrote a majority of this today (as of posting) because I damn well know a lot of us need some comfort right now.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[read under the cut]

Stan expected this. It’s Ford, he’s gonna be all nerdy and ask questions and wanna know more about things he doesn’t understand so he can understand them. He expected this. 

As soon as the question leaves Ford’s mouth, he can tell it probably isn’t the best thing to ask, for whatever reason that may be, because Stan tenses in his seat and his gaze darts away from his brother. 

Stan expected this. It’s Ford, he’s gonna be all nerdy and ask questions and wanna know more about things he doesn’t understand so he can understand them. He expected this. 

The younger twins are due to arrive within the next week or so for another summer. Stan’s surprised their parents are letting back to Gravity Falls—depending on what they told their parents—but he’s not complaining. He grew attached to those chaotic gremlins rather quickly. They’re family, after all. Stan knows he’s got a weak spot for ‘em. Ford gives him shit about it sometimes when he’s being all stubborn and grumpy. It doesn’t come from a place of hypocrisy, though. Ford’s just as bad as Stan is when it comes to their niblings, and he most often admits it.

The time sailing across the vast seas on the Stan O’ War II with Ford helped with remembering things. Stan had remembered most of his life—the important bits, at least. There were still holes in his recollection here and there, still are, but important memories stuck before the rest of it. The fact that he had a twin brother named Stanford, his niblings, most of what he’s done while in Gravity Falls, the entire Portal Situation, and almost everything that has to deal with a certain triangular dream demon. When he has relapses, Ford is always there to help him remember and support him until the memories come back. Childhood can be a bit blurry sometimes. He doesn’t quite remember much about their father, but Ford reassures him that he’s not someone to worry about; Stan trusts Ford. That, and the way Ford’s eyes darken every time he mentions him…well, he can piece things together on his own. Some people aren’t worth remembering. That’s okay. 

One of the periods in his life he struggles to remember much of is the ten years before he arrived in Gravity Falls. Ford doesn’t know much about them, either. When a memory from then resurfaces, it can be…really shitty. Sometimes, when a relapse happens and it involves something from his years being homeless, it gets a lot harder to calm Stan down. Especially since all the memories he’s remembered from then so far have been what his niblings would call ‘unfairly traumatic’. Stan knows by now where he got all his survival skills, at least. 

There are a few memories from when he first got on the streets that aren’t so bad. A few failed attempts at cheap products that got him banned in some places. He vaguely remembers his Stan Vac, the whole not-rash-causing rash-causing bandaids, little things like those. His leaky towels that made stains worse. 

His drive up through Mount Tammany. 

Stan remembers a particular night from that. Getting banned from New Jersey and trying his luck in the next state over. Dark nights where the skies were perfect for stargazing if he’d only let himself stay still for a few minutes. But then again, staying still for even a second on the road is the kinda thing that gets ya killed. So. He can always stargaze now, though. Ford always watched the stars when they got the chance at sea. Maybe they can do that again, now, in a place that doesn’t involve a surprising constant of sea-bound critters out ta get their asses. 

The fucking point: he remembers sitting in his car on the roadside, alone, in the middle of nowhere up on a mountain, getting all teary over his stupid fucking hands. He’d shifted them by accident, and suddenly six fingers replaced five. Missing Ford did that kinda shit, he supposes. Intertwining a five-fingered hand with a six-fingered one nearly broke him. Stan can punch a pterodactyl in its damn face, but he’s weak when it comes to his family. To his brother. 

Stan hopes Ford never finds out about it. He hopes he does find out about it. It’s a complicated mess of things. 

They sit in the chairs in the living room. Some rerun of an earlier Ducktective episode plays at low volume, perfect for background noise. Ford noticeably has a notepad and a blue-inked pen out on his lap. Stan’s counting down the seconds it takes for his brother to ask whatever questions he has on his mind. It only takes about thirty seconds for him to burst. A new record, really. 

“Can I ask you a few questions about your shifting?” Ford’s eyes twinkle like the fucking stars. 

Stan shrugs, genuinely open to it, “Sure, why not.” 

Ford’s excited little smile is plenty of reward for agreeing to this. He knows if he said no, Ford would back off. He’d be a bit disappointed, yeah, but he’d back off. Brothers are like that, y’know. 

His brother readies himself with his pen and all, eagerness leaking off him like some weird mist or something. 

“How can you shift into a mermaid but not into a partial fish shift?”

“It’s not that simple, Poindexter. There’re limits to it.”

The sound of a gliding pen across paper, “I suppose that makes sense. Even with Shifty, he had to learn through visualization before he could shift into something. Perhaps you mimic in a similar fashion,” There's a brief pause as Ford writes another note. “What are the limitations?”

“Well,” Stan grunts out a sigh, “for one, shifts hafta be made of the same base stuff that humans are. Size is another thing. Can’t shift inta somethin’ too small or too large. And, uh, partial shifts are their own thing, not very sustainable. ‘S why I gotta shift into a full merfolk instead ‘a partial fish.”

Ford nods along to his brother, scribbling notes hastily as he talks. There’s a sense of ease that blankets the air between them. Lounging in the tv room, talking, listening, just hanging out with each other. When was the last time they did shit like this? When was the last time it started to feel easy? Maybe it’s because he’s answerin’ the things that he does know about his shifting abilities, but a warmth blossoms in Stan’s chest at the realization of how much it reminds him of being kids. Yappin’ with each other. No arguin’ or nothin’, just…yappin’. It’s nice. 

“Wait, so—” a readjust of Poindexter’s glasses, “Then how come you’ve shifted into partial cat eyes or…ah, the partial bear shift the kids told me about?” 

“It ain’t sustainable, so it doesn’t last long,” Stan tries, though he’s pretty sure he just explained the partial shift thing. “Wouldn’t wanna randomly shift underwater, y’know? And fish shifts are always a bitch to shift in and outta.” 

“Ah, I see. Why are fish—”

“The gills, nerd. Breathing’s all different an’ shit.”

“Oh, well, nevermind then.”

Stan snorts at him, and Ford playfully rolls his eyes. He writes a few more notes down. Stan taps his fingers on the arm of his chair, lightly drumming out a tuneless rhythm. A companionable silence fills the room, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to replace it with some sort of sound. Probably because he’s already making noise with his tappin’, but still. It’s like a gentle inhale of fresh pine air, drifting around them. It’s calm. It’s as quiet as any ambience can be. It’s peaceful. 

And it only lasts for a few minutes, thankfully, because Stan might’ve started tappin’ with two hands instead of one if it went on for too long. It’s still silence, after all. Nothing good has come with complete silence.

“Given what you’ve explained…how does your shifting work?” and this question has the stars in Ford’s eyes turning into spotlights that gleam onto Stan. 

Stanley clicks, shrugging, “Tch, I don’t know.”

Ford glances up from his notepad, pen stilling, “What?”

“I don’t know how it works, Six.”

“How can you not know how it works? It’s your shifting!”

“I’ve been busy.”

“But you just explained—”

“I know some things, just not everything!”

“How—wait, okay. What were you so busy with that you didn’t explore your shifting more?”

The peaceful air thins. There’s a slight pressure, tension, something that threatens to smother them if they don’t tread this carefully. A choking hazard. 

Stan scoffs, a biting voice, “Jeez, Six, do ya not remember bein’ shoved into a massive fuckin’ portal? And I thought I was the amnesiac.”

He winces as soon as he says it. That was a bit harsher than he intended, honestly. It’s in the past. Sure, there’re still some shit they gotta work out, but now wasn’t the time. Why is he always biting like a wounded feral dog when it comes to shit like that? What is he, a beaten hound? 

Ford goes sheepish, “Oh, right…”

It’s awkward. The tense air simmers like New Mexico’s summer heat. It blazes underneath the first layer of their skin. It fizzles and crackles and makes both of the older twins fidget in their seats. Stan shifts his weight in his chair, and his finger-tappin’ gets quicker. 

Ford clears his throat, “Right, well, I—thank you, Stanley.” 

A small, fond smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Warmth fills his chest like waves of the ocean, his heart sighing pleasant beats. Ford’s said it a number of times while they were sailing. Some nights, when the beer was cold and the stars were glistening across the vast seas, they figured out talkin’ about shit. Not everything, no, not even some of the things they probably should, but they were still important things they needed to talk about. The portal was one of them. At least, some of it. The parts that Stan remembered in flashes. Memory of its entirety came back before they returned to Gravity Falls, but he digresses. They talked about some shit, and Ford made a point of saying ‘thank you’ a lot more. He still does it. 

The tense air dissipates a significant amount, easing, calming, gentle.

“Yeah, whatever, Poindexter,” Stan waves it off, but he couldn’t wipe the little smile on his face if he tried. “What else ya got, huh?”

Ford shares his own little smile, glancing down briefly at his notes, “Well, let’s see…oh! How did you initially find out about your shifting?”

And the tense air returns with a sharp bite. 

As soon as the question leaves Ford’s mouth, he can tell it probably isn’t the best thing to ask, for whatever reason that may be, because Stan tenses in his seat and his gaze darts away from his brother. 

“Of course, if you don’t remember it,” Ford adds quickly, “Just the earliest you can remember.”

Stan considers what to do here. He’s been given an out. He can just give the easy excuse that he doesn’t remember. It wouldn’t be too far a lie, what, with how fickle his memory from that far back can be. It’s still a lie, though. He does remember that night driving through Mount Tammany. Although it may not be his first experience with his new-found shifting abilities, it is one of the earliest. It would be around the time he first found out, anyway. 

And he’d promised Ford on the boat that he’d try and talk to him. They both did. They made that promise. Stan is tired of breaking things. He won’t break a promise to Ford, especially now that they’re on much better terms. He can’t risk fucking this peace up. It’s too precious now. There’s been too much work and hard nights and shed tears they’ll never comment on. Stan won’t break it for anything. 

He sighs, refusing to face Ford while he does this. 

“It ain’t much. Just a drive through the mountains,” he forewarns, “Nothin’ pretty, nothin’ ugly.” 

Ford’s eyes widen in momentary surprise, as if he’d expected Stan to take the out. He shakes it off, leaning in slightly. An eager listener. A nod to show he understands. 

Alright, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this, Stan thinks. 

A gruffer sigh, “Just been banned from Jersey, I think. A few failed business ventures or whatever, and I was drivin’ up through Mount Tammany.”

Stan ignores whatever Ford’s reaction is to him being banned from their home state. He can’t handle reactions if he’s gonna commit to this. Grabbing a half-drank can of Pitt Cola, givin’ something for his hands to do. Idle hands ain’t gonna do good. He can’t risk havin’ idle hands that reach for violence and excuses. This ain’t the time for it. Not now, not now. 

He swallows, continuing, “It’s dark, probably in the middle of the night. Got used ta drivin’ in late hours so much I don’t think it made a difference.” 

The scene itself starts to unravel in front of his mind’s eye. He can almost see it, hear it, smell it. He keeps talking. 

“Mind kept driftin’, so I had ta pull over. I was wonderin’ about…people. Where they were, how’d they been, all that. Guess they really got to me, heh.” 

Ford doesn’t need to ask who he’s referring to. This one, he knows. He knows what Stan is like when he talks about missing Ford. It’s one ‘a those times. 

“Not even twenty yet, y’know. Still young enough to have a weak stomach about things. I couldn’t keep drivin’ all those curves up in the mountains like that, else I was gonna crash or somethin’. I pull over.”

Stan has to pause for a moment, swallowing again. He tries not to get lost in the memory. He fidgets with the can in his hand, thumbing across its smooth surface. Remind himself where he is. Remember he’s in a chair next to his brother, and not breakin’ at the sight of holding a five-fingered hand and a six-fingered one together. Five plus six is eleven. It’d only been ten years when he saw Ford next after that, but it sure felt like eleven centuries with the way they’d changed. 

No longer lookin’ like each other. Both scared outta their minds and desperate. They’re twins; but back then, they’d been strangers that shared a last name. Not even that. Stan’s used many names throughout the years. He’s worn many faces, too. Droppin’ his shift for the first time in years, just to see his brother, had been a lot more unsettling than he thought it’d be. 

Right, explain’ Mount Tammany. 

Stan shakes his head lightly, ignoring his lingering thoughts of triangular portals. 

“I felt the extra fingers before I saw ‘em,” a hitch of breath besides Stan, but he continues through it, “Six fingers on each hand. The last I recall, I wasn’t the one with hands like that. Turns out I shifted ‘em without thinking.” 

Stan does that sometimes. In moments of heightened emotion—distress, usually—his body decides to kick into gear without askin’ Stan first and shifts itself into whatever it deems necessary to survive the situation. He heard Wendy explain it as a trauma response once. She’d been taking this psychology class to avoid some shitty required course that had a shitty teacher. She’s smart. Gonna do some pretty great shit one day, that kid. Badass enough as it is, really. What highschooler can say they’ve survived the literal apocalypse without referrin’ to a video game? 

“I was already a weak mess at that point,” Stan hesitates, thumbing the can in his hand again. Quiet noises come from Ford’s chair, and he tries to write it off as squeaky furniture. “I, uh…shifted one hand back, and…intertwined them. ‘Bout broke me. I was already fucked-up with drivin’ in the middle of the night, anyway. Y’know, lackin’ sleep and all. That shit.”

Stan cannot look in Ford’s direction after he’s finished. He keeps fiddling with the Pitt can in his hand. His other hand drums a tuneless rhythm on the arm of his chair. He can’t have idle hands. They reach for things. Reaching for Ford might not be a good idea right now. Hey, at least Stan’s actually thinkin’ for once in his damn life. Mabel’s childlike optimism is rubbin’ off ‘a him. 

The quiet noises include a sniffle, and Stan feels something in his chest crack like a statue about to fall off a breaking cliff. Something’s about to break and fall into the churnin’ waters below. The sea can be just as much of a hell as it can be a comfort. Life’s like that, he supposes. Your greatest comfort can be your easiest weak point. 

They sit there, not talking, not looking at each other, hardly making a sound. It’s a fragile air. It’s a thin glass sheet. They’ve had practice on the Stan ‘O War II with learning how to navigate moments like these, but this? This is something else. This is about an earlier memory of being kicked out from home. This is about when Stan learned he was just as anomalous as his brother. This is about one of the first times Stan lost a little hope. This is different. It’s fragile, and Stan’s never been good with fragile things. He breaks what he touches. He doesn’t know how to touch this without cracking the glass like a hammer to a stained glass window. 

Neither of them breathe for a moment. 

How the hell do you navigate a conversation like this? How did it turn into thinly-veiled raw emotion with the steadiness of a paper house? The pivot from your average sibling bickering and stupid smiles to something made of a deck of flimsy cards. A sharp pivot. A sudden pivot. Where did the fragility come from? 

Ford, surprisingly, is the one to break the stained-glass window. 

“Lee,” his voice is thicker, choking, full of hitching breaths and sniffling that becomes all the more noticeable with the uneasy silence. 

Stan can’t help but turn to his brother as soon as that nickname is uttered. There’s a lump in his throat at the sight of Ford’s red-rimmed eyes behind the guise of his blocky glasses. He doesn’t have it in him to swallow it down. 

Okay, they’re doing this. Great. This is fine. 

“Six,” Stan responds, and he sounds just as bad as Ford.

He ignores the prickling droplets in his eyes. 

“You—when did—” words come tumbling out of Ford’s mouth like foreign concepts of another dimension. 

“It’s fine, Poindexter,” an attempt at waving things off, even with how messy their voices are right now, because he cannot stand seeing his brother look so distressed.

“It’s not fine, Stanley.”

“...It’s not.”

“You were banned from Jersey?”

Starting there, okay.

“‘S what happens when yer products are a total sham.” 

“I–yes, I get that, I just…I saw the commercials. Thought you figured it out, and  not…”

“You saw the commercials?”

A pause, “Ah, well, yes. It was the only time I ever saw you.” 

Something about that twists a heart or two. Neither of them can tell if it’s their own or each other’s. It doesn’t matter, really. It twists all the same. 

“You went through Mount Tammany?” Ford continues. 

“Headed towards Pennsylvania. Business opportunities and all that.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Moses, they’re pushing towards seventy and still this awkward? What are they, pre-teens?

“Can you show me?” Ford is so quiet that Stan almost doesn’t hear him.

“Uh, what?”

“Just—you said you shifted into six fingers, so…” the shrug he gives is a little unlike him, but this entire conversation is a little unlike them. Too many emotions going ‘round in a circus display of some spin-top toy. 

Well…not exactly where Stan thought this conversation would go, but it’s not a bad direction. Just show his brother that he can have six-fingered hands like he does. He’s done it before. It’s not the shift that holds a heavy weight behind it, but it’s the reason Ford’s even asking. He’s not gonna point out that Ford’s already seen him with similar hands before. 

Stan tears a hole in the paper house, and he nods. 

Ford watches with a gaze of…something. Careful curiosity is in there somewhere. Along with whatever else is racin’ through his damn head. Lots of things today, huh?

Stan doesn’t need to concentrate as much as he usually does with partial shifts. This one is something he’s practiced and done so often that it’s instinctual. In fact, he glances down and notices one of his hands already has six fingers. He shifts the other to match. Ford stares. He fidgets with his own six-fingered hands. They twitch like they wanna reach out. Stan feels that echo in his knuckles, his joints, the bones of his wrists and hands and even in his sockets. 

Stan slowly reaches out first. 

Ford spares a darting glance at his face, and he meets him halfway. 

They hold hands. 

The very much not-there-at-all tears glide down Stan’s face. Ford’s sniffling again as his breath hitches again. Quiet sounds flitter around the room. Little sounds. Sounds they won’t admit to making because that means admitting to crying over holding hands, and they sure as hell ain’t gonna do that. Doing that means facing the truth of how heavy it feels. Holding hands with your brother isn’t supposed to be heavy. He’s seen Mabel and Dipper hold each other’s hands, and they certainly don’t get weepy over it. Not that Stan would dare to make fun outta them if they did, no, he rather shift in and out of bein’ a fish a million times before he even thinks about doin’ such a thing. 

Ford squeezes, and Stan squeezes back. 

A deck of flimsy cards topples over and scatters across the floor in a whirlwind of sad old men and old wounds. 

Little birds keep close together for winter. 

A sparrow holds his brother’s hand, and it brings more comfort than he’d thought possible. Maybe the scared teen that drove through Mount Tammany heals a little. Maybe the lost kid that cried over his hands while stranded alone in his car starts to smile again. 

A small, teary smile tugs at the corner of Stan’s mouth.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

[violetsiren90]

Evergreen | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x human!f!Reader

(A Nothing But You universe fic)

Genre: hybrid AU; one-shot; established relationship; domestic fluff; slice of life; mountain living; pregnancy

Word Count: 1689

Summary: Seasons change, life moves on - but some things stay the same.

Content Warning: PG-13 for themes but my page and all its content are 18+ (minors, dni); wolf hybrid rut; mentions of knotting and marking; mentions of rut symptoms that include insomnia and lack of appetite; deep emotions; the use of "your" and "belonging" in the sense of committed love NOT ownership; pregnancy; mentions of different states of undress; domesticity and shared domestic responsibility; homesteading; Chris being the sweetest and most caring 😭💕; Chris chopping wood 😳; mentions of food and eating; implications of sexual intimacy, parenthood

Author's Note: I guess I went and fell in love with these two. This is a companion one-shot to Nothing But You. This one-shot is a different flavor, not as soft and cozy all the way through - there are more notes here, I think. Some sweeter, some sharper, but in the end, it's still them. I wanted to peek into their lives and see how they lived and loved. 🥰

If no one has told you yet today, please know that you are so loved, and so worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

~January~

Snow burdens the branches of the pines, the bitter North wind whistling between the trees, through the darkness, and over the blanket of fresh powder shrouding the forest floor. The mountains are sleeping, but your wolf is awake.

He nearly collapses, sinking to his knees as he shuts the cabin door. You spring up from your place by the fire to rush to him, but he holds up a hand, a growl rumbling low in his chest. You freeze. Panting, he slowly raises his face. Snowflakes cling to his lashes and dust over his head and shoulders. The dusky circles under his brown eyes speak of weariness, yet their expression is dark and wild. His nose is flushed from the chill. Beads of sweat quiver on his brow.

The fever still hasn't broken.

It appeared two days ago, with other sudden changes. Christopher has grown restless and short-tempered, and won't sleep in your bed. He smells intoxicatingly of cedar wood and amber.

You've been through it all before, his annual rut at the end of winter - four days of watching him endure the throes of primal agony. He would steal away at night, to hunt, your proximity far too overwhelming for his heightened senses and desires. Unchecked he would fail to stop himself. He would take you, mark you, knot you.

He hadn't in the four years you'd shared a bed and the comfort of the other's flesh. You'd spoken of the mating rites, but he always held off, afraid to break you. So protective of you always, and without a second a thought to himself.

You respected his space, his wishes, attempting to help him navigate the torment of his natural longings as best you could.

But this year it had taken him like a wild fire. The fever wouldn't break. He wouldn't sleep or eat. And now, here he was, half frozen and shivering on the floor.

No more.

You slowly cross to pull him up against his weak protesting. You peel away his frost-damp clothes and drag his heavy frame to rest upon the bed. With his last strength he tries to push you away, but you slip under the blankets beside him, pulling him into your arms.

His eyes flutter shut as he curls against you and nuzzles into your neck, whimpering that when he wakes it will be too hard for him to hold back.

You tell him not to try.

You tell him that you need him, want him - all of him. This part too, with all the others.
You assure him softly that you're not afraid, nor should he fear to make you his...you already belong to one another, after all.

You whisper that you love him.

Christopher exhales, tears trickling down his cheeks to mingle with the sweat and melted snow. You hold him to your breast, brushing soft kisses into his hair.

Cedar wood and amber.

~April~

You shake out a flannel shirt, crinkled and bunched from wringing to hang it on the line that stretches from the side of the cabin to a young yellow birch within the clearing. You smile as you fasten it with clips. He had worn it on the first day he visited the diner. It was faded then, and it has grown more timeworn still. But the fabric is thick, the seams hand-sewn, and if the dye has begun to abandon the thread it is only ever the softer. 

Strong and soft, like him.

The warblers are singing in the branches of the white pines as they busily fashion their nests. You stroke a hand down over the little bump of your belly, musing over the nesting that has started to change the trappings of your own little home. There's still plenty of time, but Christopher's excitement has poured forth in the form of hard work, and you're certain that when your time comes he'll have stored by enough for the next three winters yet.

You hear the rumbling of his truck a ways off. He left in the wee hours, the bed loaded down with wares to sell to suppliers in town. By the time you've strung up the last piece of washing he's already at the mouth of the trail, his arms laden with flowers and parcels wrapped in brown paper. The light wash of his denim shirt brings out the early kisses of the spring sunshine on his honeyed skin.

You follow him into the house where he puts your wildflowers into a vase and insists that you sit while he tends to lunch. Unwrapping the brown paper packages you find a set of pretty maternity pajamas, a box of chocolates, and the goat's milk soap you like. 

He's already eaten half his sandwich when he sets yours down, and you tug his wrist, pulling him into a chair to prevent him from setting out to work yet again. 

When the dishes are cleared you won't let him leave. He'd work every second of every day and well into many nights if you let him. But today you want him to rest. It's a mild and lovely afternoon and the chores are done. Other things can wait.

You sit across his lap on the porch swing he built two summers before. Your arms encircle one of his as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

His lips brush your forehead as his thumb caresses the little curved scar where the slope of your shoulder meets your neck. The one that means you belong to him and no one else.

The birds sing and the swing creaks.


~July~

He calls you from around the other side of the house. You draw an arm over your dripping brow and struggle up from where you're crouched to spread a batch of plump, ripe blackberries between the screens of the drying rack. There are still so many. Some you'll turn into jam. Christopher will eat the rest. He loves them. You rest the colander still half-full with berries against the full swell of your belly, wrapping an arm about the rim to keep it in place. 

You're hot and uncomfortable these days. But, when the morning's work is through, you'll go down to the lake together to shed the day's heat in the cool, still waters. You'd been every afternoon that week. Christopher was a strong swimmer, and would stay in far longer while you sat on the shady bank with a book. When he finally quit the water yesterday, he'd never found his clothes - instead he'd pressed you back into the lush green grass and made you sigh his name. 

As you round the far side of the cabin your eyes catch his form. He stands under the sweltering sun, stripped down to pair of fitted khaki work pants and thick suede boots. His muscular chest is slicked with sweat and he stands, panting, with his weight pressed into his right hip. He holds an axe in his hand.

His mouth pulls up at the corner and his tail swishes at the site of you. You tuck yourself against him wrapping your free arm around his damp waist. Oh how you want to swim. To hold his strong body in the dark water.

He gestures with the axe at what he's fitted together with stripped pieces of soft pine. A little cradle. He nudges it with his foot, setting it to rock. You bring a blackberry to his lips and he accepts it.

You kiss him.

Salty skin and summer fruit.


~October~

Your eyes flutter open to the sound of little cries. You sit up and stretch, blinking in the softness of the early autumn light.

You inhale deeply. Cinnamon and hickory smoke.

Outside the air is growing crisp and the leaves of the deciduous trees are blushing and abandoning their hosts, covering the floor of the wood in their pageantry. Fruit and game have begun to grow scarce as the forest prepares to enter the long slumber of the colder months. Nights require fires more often than not.

There is a small fire crackling now. A little black cauldron hangs over the flames, and you can smell the porridge simmering within. The man you love sits in a rocking chair near the warmth, a little bundle in his arms. He looks up at you as you rise and he smiles. He's been all smiles lately. In fact, you don't think the little dimple has left his cheek since he met the tiny she-wolf in his arms two weeks ago.

He says she looks like you, but all you see in her beautiful little features is Christopher. She has two tiny fuzzy ears and a darling little tale.

You reach down to stroke her fat cheek and your heart aches.

It aches from love, so much of it.

When the doctor placed her in your arms a part of your heart that you hadn't known existed burst to beating. You thought you loved the man who had knitted her inside you as much as you were able, but you had been ignorant in that respect as well. When he took your daughter in his arms and looked down on her face you thought that there wasn't room in your chest for things so vast, so deep.

You named her Hannah, for the sister her father had lost. It meant "grace".

So fitting, you think.

You move your fingers into Christopher's curls and he looks up at you. His brown eyes are soft and warm. The lovely eyes you saw that first day at the general store - the same through every changing season.

The maple and the birch will wax and wane, but not the cedar, not the pine.

Some things will remain.

And he is evergreen.
 

-Fin-

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻Our Journey🪻

✨Pairing: ateez ot8 x gn!reader ✨Chapter 1. What started off as any normal day for you after leaving your siblings at school ended up as a disaster as you get swooped far away from home by accident. ✨Genre: fantasy au, Elsa Beskow inspired, non romance ✨Word Count: 4k ✨Tag list: ☀️Authors Note: This is inspired by Elsa Beskows stories and drawings which means everyone is small sized like in the pictures above by Elsa herself, I have yet decided if there will be romance in this story it's leaning more towards nonromantic right now but we'll see! Let me know if you'd like to join the tag list💓

<next>

As a young child you had heard stories of what exists out in the big wide world by your father. He would tell you about the faeries dancing in rings out on the fields in the early mornings when the grass was covered in dew and the fog was there as well. He’d tell you about the terrifying meetings with mountain trolls and other creatures that sent shivers up your spine.

Sometimes he’d even tell you terrifying stories about creatures like the wyverns hiding deeper in the forest or the dragons and other creatures lurking out in the world that you have to be careful around other wise you might end up loosing your life.

Sometimes you thought he was only telling you and your siblings this to keep you all in check. To make sure none of you would wander too far off when outside of your little home. After all being so small could make it harder to get home in certain weathers. Rain could be especially dangerous because of the mud it created had your mother told you. 

She had said to your younger self:

”Rain is dangerous if it pelts down, it can strike you down when you least expect it and for us who are small it can be fatal. It creates mud in places you would not expect and falling into it can be dangerous, sometimes it’s deep and you cannot swim in it like you can in the little creek. Make sure to find cover if you are outside when it rains. A mushroom or a flower can give you good cover until it’s safe to go home.”

You always heeded her and your fathers words. Rarely stepping outside when it rained or when it got dark. Sometimes you would do something daring when your siblings were with you but never something that would truly put you in any sort of danger.

Most animals did not get too close to you that could be deemed dangerous since you wore your hat that looked like the hat of a fly agaric. Your mother had one as well just like your siblings, your father was different. He wore a pine cone on his head, that had come from his family before he had chosen to live his life with your mother. He even had an armor made of pine cones for when he had to go out and fight of a snake or two.

”Hey Y/n! Are you ready?? Mama is taking us to school now!” Your younger brother called for you at the entrance of your home, taking you out of your daydreaming which made you groan quietly. You had finished school a few years back and would often be tasked to bring your younger siblings to Mama Owl when your own mother had too much to do.

You had loved your time with her learning about the world and all that existed in it. Mama Owl was a wise creature, wiser than any other in the forest and she shared her knowledge with all of the younglings. Everyone from the birds, the squirrels, the rabbits, you and your siblings and many more had come to learn from her until you reached adulthood.

Very often would you daydream during her lessons about exploring the world. It was something you longed to do but it would take an awful long time for someone so small to explore the world which was oh so big. Perhaps one day you could do so on the back of a chaffinch you would have befriended at some point in your life but for now you were stuck in your small section of the world.

”Hurry up! You’re slower than a snail on a bad day!” Your sister called which made you roll out of your bed and hurriedly putting on your hat, making sure your shirt and pants looked good before running towards the door.

”There you are! Let’s go now, we do not want to be late for todays lessons. Mama Owl does not approve of tardiness.” Your mama tells you as she picks up her basket.

”Mama, I am old enough to walk the kids to school myself am I not?” You ask wondering why she is walking them to class today when that was something you usually did. 

”Oh shush, I want to walk them to class today and make sure no one gets into trouble.” She says which makes you sigh thinking back on how yesterday you had been late with your siblings simply because you followed a butterfly for a while in the opposite direction.

Your parents had not been happy with you once they had heard your younger siblings had been late for class and had scolded you for it during dinner. You had apologized profusely and promised it wouldn’t happen again and it seems like your mother was making sure it wouldn’t happen again by making you company all the way to school.

”I’m off with father today to learn more hunting and fighting techniques.” Your older sister tells you, she had already finished her schooling and were learning from your father the last piece of knowledge she needs as an adult. You and your older brother had yet to been allowed to learn from him the same way she was. The two of you would often watch them from afar and play around with sticks you found practicing the movements she was learning.

You two were considered too old for school now but not old enough to learn some of the adult things like fighting or even building your own house. Your parents often told you to just enjoy this time, meet with friends, explore the forest but obviously don’t go to far from home or you might get lost! Or perhaps find someone you could fall in love with. 

”Last lesson Mama Owl started telling us about the mountain trolls! Have you met one Y/n?” Your younger sister asked and you nodded at her as she took your hand to hold as the five of you walked to the big tree where the school was being held.

”I have! He scared me, Opal and Birk when we were kids! We were playing too close to his lair so he came out and shouted BOO at us!” You imitated the troll and your younger sister looked frightened ”But don’t worry, he didn’t hurt us at all. He just finds it funny scaring us. He’s an old mountain troll and is kind sometimes. But I haven’t met any other mountain trolls so I don’t know if it’s just him that is this way or if all mountain trolls are this way.” You told her before your mother chimed in.

”Let’s hope we never have to meet another mountain troll! They can be very dangerous! Especially since they are so big.” 

”Don’t scare them mama!” You tell her when you feel your sister tighten her hold on your hand.

”Oh sorry my sweet little darling, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She apologizes before helping all of your siblings up the tree together with you once you finally reached it.

The five of you climb up and after a while you reach the branches where the classes will be held. Your three younger siblings hug you and your mother goodbye before going to sit on a branch next to some squirrels, it makes your heart warm seeing them greet their friends and talking happily with the other younglings.

”Behave well and learn a lot today!” You tell them before waving goodbye. 

You and your mother part ways further down on the tree branches with you running around happily enjoying the freedom of jumping from branch to branch, exploring the leaves and to be able to see everything happening from above.

You could see in the distance your older sister Opal training with your father, both decked out in their battle gear. You notice a viper slithering closer to them but you are too far away for them to hear you call out to them. Luckily your father is sharp and notices it coming their way, he shows off a brilliant technique of warding it off and eventually killing it and you know he will later find a hedgehog to offer the snake to as a delicious treat.

”Wow.” You whisper to yourself before standing up on the branch and start pretending you’re fighting a viper of your own, copying his moves. Both you and Birk had been begging a few months back to also learn how to fight but your father had refused saying he’d only teach one person at a time and since Opal was the oldest out of you three she got to learn it all first.

She had been incredibly proud when your mother had fixed her armor made out of pinecone. Lovingly sown together to be a perfect fit, Opal still wore her red hat which looked like the poisonous fly agaric, claiming that it fit her perfectly and gave away a sense of danger.

You however speculated that she wanted to have something that resembled your loving mother close to her even when she is out protecting her own. 

”Take this! Hah! And that!!” You swing a twig around maneuvering around and it all goes well until you almost slip and fall down had it not been for your quick reflexes grabbing onto a small branch hauling yourself up again.

”That is enough fighting up here for today…” You tell yourself hurrying away from the edge and downwards.

You hurry down the tree and once you’re safely on the ground again you run towards the tiny little creek to enjoy the feeling of the running water passing through your legs. Perhaps you’d find a nice looking stone, one that shimmers like the sun in the sky to bring home and create a necklace out of it. 

If you were lucky that is. 

You had only seen a beautiful stone like that once when you were five and your father had found it. He had brought it home and carved it into a lamp for which your mother would put twigs in and light up to give a warm light in your home when the fireplace wasn’t necessary.

”Hello Y/n!! Found any acorns today??” Your friend, Twigs, a beautiful auburn brown squirrel asked running up to you, looking at you curiously with her hands closely held together.

”Hi Twigs, I’m sorry I haven’t found any yet, perhaps there will be some in the creek? I’m going there if you’d like to join me?” You ask her with a smile and she perks up before getting on all four in front of you.

”Get on! I’ll carry you there, that way we can get there quicker and not miss a single acorn.” She says and you laugh before getting up on her back trying to tell her that the two of you might not even find acorns there but she doesn’t listen as she takes off.

She’s quick and zig-zags through the blueberry bushes and for you it tickles in your stomach as she runs and sometimes jump from stone to stone. The wind towards your face feels amazing and you close your eyes as your hands grip her fur gently. The fur is soft and it brings you comfort as the two of you journey to the creek. It sometimes feels like you are soaring through the air like those few times you’ve flown on the back of a bat during the nights.

You take your time to truly admire Twig, she’s truly beautiful, her fur reminds you of the sun setting on the horizon, painting the water orange or the autumn leaves. The tuffs on her ears makes you smile and her majestic tail is something you marvel at. You had only experienced one time when she had curled her tail up around you to keep you warm and sometimes you’d imagine yourself cuddling with Twigs when you went to bed surrounded by your warm blanket. 

You loved her dearly, she was the same age as you. One of your first friends outside of your family and no matter what others said about her you’d always cherish her and her goofy self. 

It didn’t matter that she forgot where she had hidden half of the nuts she had collected because she never let it dampen her spirit. She had a positive outlook on life and that was something you wished you could have all the time as well.

”We’re here!!!” She beams happily while slowing down showing you that you were in fact at the creek. You quickly jump off of her back and run to the water happily.

”Thank you Twigs! Shall we play around in the water together?” You question as the cold feeling climbs up your body when your feet touches the water. 

Twigs sit up on her hind legs looking at you with a tilted head, her hands being adorably held together making her look very curious and polite.

”Are there any nuts in the water?” She asks and it makes you laugh out loud before shaking your head.

”No, I’m sorry there are none in the water, but perhaps there are some over at that oak tree?” You point towards the oak tree knowing she buried some nuts over there a few weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. 

She lights up and like a lighting bolt she’s over there sniffing around for her hearts desire. You enjoy helping her out because her reactions to it all are always so genuine and sweet.

”Now let’s see if I can find something to bring home from here.” You mutter before squatting down and getting your hands into the water, pushing around the sand and rocks under you in hopes of finding a beautiful stone. 

You search for some time but is unsuccessful in finding anything that you had hoped to find. Perhaps your father just had been very lucky at that day perhaps the faeries had given him some luck so he could bring back home a present for the love of his life.  ”I wonder if I will ever get so lucky.” You ask yourself sitting down on a rock near by and letting your feet gently splash in the running water, enjoying the sun shining from above.

It was a beautiful day and when you don’t have anything to do it would be a crime not to enjoy it. You sat there for some time, Twigs coming back to tell you all about the different nuts she found where you had suggested she’d look causing you to smile brightly, happy she found some happiness today.

You even managed to talk to one of the kind snails in the area named Pine by you and your siblings. He was always kind and never in a rush to get anywhere simply enjoying his life in his own pace. You two spoke for a while about how you wished you’d be taught fighting as well to which he responded that it will come in time and that you should relax and enjoy your life as a young adult before it’s time for you to take on even bigger responsibilities which would mean you wouldn’t have time for fun the same way you have now.

”Perhaps he was right.” You thought while walking back the same path where you came from. 

Perhaps you should just try and enjoy life right now before it would be time for you to either leave home to find a place of your own or take on much bigger responsibilities. You had never thought of it that way, always so desperate to learn what your older sister was learning, perhaps it was because you yearned to show everyone you were grown up, that you could handle scary situations like this as well.

A need to prove yourself.

Your feet wander taking you further and further away from the creek, wandering through moss and blueberry bushes, past a spiderweb with a large spider hiding behind some leaves. You’re careful not to get tangled up in his net knowing it will leave a nasty encounter because if he was particularly hungry that day nothing would stop him from devouring you. 

You hum a familiar tune that the sparrows had been singing earlier.

It was a beautiful tune and if you sang loud enough they would respond with their own song, sometimes even trying to harmonize with you. They’d fly between the trees, flapping their beautiful brown wings quickly as they danced in the air. To you they looked majestic as they flew around singing their songs to their hearts content.

”One day I hope I can fly as high as they are.” You say to no one in particular as you stop to take them in. 

You would have stayed there for much longer if you didn’t suddenly remember that you had promised your mother you would bring home some wood sorrel for her to use in tonights dinner. Knowing she’d want a big amount and it took you a while to pluck them caused you to start sprinting to the one place you knew plenty of them grew. Not to be confused with clovers that also grew in the forest you called home. Clovers were okay, they weren’t as tasty as wood sorrel and you much preferred the latter, especially when they were combined with the fruits and nuts your mother cooked to perfection.

Weaving through the fauna so quickly as you did almost made you trip on sticks and stones but you were nimble on your feet and stayed up where younger you would have tripped.

Avoiding the ants in the path was also hard, pissing off one of them meant the whole clan would come after you and that was something you did not want. Birk had once been unlucky and had been bitten by several ants, Opal had managed to get the ants away by throwing water at them and by getting the helps of some birds to scare them away. You shuddered as you remembered the bruises and wounds your older brother had sported that day.

He couldn’t stop crying from the pain, their bites itched and he had trouble laying down and sleeping as well. It had been a lesson for all of you and your siblings to always be in the good graces of ants. They could either be your friend or enemy and you would do better to have them on your side than the opposite. You would often leave them treats, things you’d found when out and about that you knew they liked or needed for their home. That way they never really bothered to go after you when they saw you. 

You were so far friend in their eyes and you intended for it to stay that way.

”There!” You exclaimed in happiness as you saw the wood sorrel come into view, your feet speeding up, jumping in happiness at what you saw.

”Perfect! Mama will be so happy when I come home with all of this!” You say walking up to one that reached half of your height, bending down to pick it up. 

”Ouf hrmmm come on!” You mutter as you squat slightly, gripping the stem tightly and pulling as hard you could and just when you thought you’d have to give up on this specific one it flew up causing you to land on your butt.

”Ouch!” You exclaim as you landed before snickering finding it a bit funny. 

”This better not be happening to me with every single one of you that i’m plucking.” You say out loud as if telling the plant off and that it better behave for you as you get up on your feet again.

The other ones you’re plucking goes much smoother, you’ve plucked quiet the collection when you decide it’s time to take a little break. You move all your sorrel to one big pile before you look for a good place to rest your legs for a while. You wander a bit, trying to find the perfect place and while you’re doing that you fail to hear the sounds of wings flapping coming closer and closer to you. 

You barely have time to realize what is happening until the ground is suddenly getting farther and farther away from you as you hang almost upside down. You look up in fear and see that it’s a greenfinch that has grabbed you by your waist flying away with you. 

Panic start to settle into your bones as you realize the bird doesn’t even seem to realize that what he’s grabbed is not something he can eat.

”S-stop!! Let me down!!!” You yell trying to get his attention and you could have sworn you saw the bird look back at you and chuckle as he continued to fly higher and higher and further away from your home.

”No!!! Let me down!! Stop! Don’t take me away from home please!!” You yell again desperately while trying not to look down. 

It suddenly wasn’t your wish to soar high up in the sky. It was scary how far away the ground were from you and you knew if you were to be let go now you’d surely hurt yourself or die from the fall. You continued to scream in both fear and desperation. When you had wished earlier to fly up in the sky like the sparrows this was not what you had meant. 

It was almost as if the bird was speeding up taking you somewhere you would soon not recognize. The forest was big and you were so small that even if the bird didn’t bring you too far away it could take days for you to find your way home.

The last thing you could do while fighting away the tears threatening to spill was to call out to the two people who always were there for you, who always knew what to do in scary situations. Logically you knew that calling out for them at this distance would do you no good but you couldn’t help it.

Right now everything was scary and logic had been thrown away.

”MAMA!!! PAPA!!!” You wailed loudly feeling terror settling into your bones as the greenfinch flew up and down and in circles as if mocking you, finding your reactions funny. 

There were no mama nor papa there to protect you, to hold you tight and chase away the mean greenfinch.

You were all alone with this mean bird and nothing you said or did made him stop. He had a destination in mind and for some reason he had decided that taking you from your home was something he had to do.

[loppy-darii]

Wow who knew that watching dungeon meshi would inspire me to make a fantasy themed oneshot au! (Please help)

May make more in the future depending on whatever my body wants to do

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Surviving Together"

Fandom: BTS

Pairing BTS ot7 x Reader

Major Genre: Survival, Zombie apocalypse

Zombie Au inspired a bit by All of us are dead series

Chapter 12: "The Truth Unraveled"

The streets are chaotic. Infected swarm in all directions, their relentless pursuit of anything human blurring the line between life and death. You’re on edge, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your hands shaking as you grip your weapon. The tension from earlier—between you and Hana, between you and Taehyung—is pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the fight to survive.

Hana is next to you, but the silence between you two is heavier than ever. There’s still a sense of unfinished business lingering in the air, but you can’t afford to dwell on it. The infected grow in numbers as you push forward, battling your way through the streets. The group moves as one, each of you expertly maneuvering through the chaos, protecting one another as best as you can.

You glance over to Taehyung, your gaze meeting his briefly. There’s a sense of connection there, but it's fleeting, clouded by the immediate danger. He’s still too caught up in the survival game to focus on anything else.

And then, it happens.

The infected come at you in a flash, faster than you expected. You swing your weapon, knocking one of them back, but you barely have time to react as another lunges toward Hana. You shout, trying to warn her, but it’s too late.

With a sickening sound, one of the infected’s teeth sinks deep into her arm. Hana screams in agony, her body jerking as the infected drags its mouth deeper into her flesh.

"No!" you shout, rushing forward, but it’s too late. The infected’s grip is unrelenting, and Hana’s screams echo in your ears as she struggles to break free.

Without thinking, you charge in, slamming the infected away and managing to cut it down. But Hana is left panting on the ground, clutching her bitten arm. Her face is pale, her breathing erratic, and the reality of what just happened sinks in.

"You’re bitten," you say, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Hana stares at you, her eyes wide, and then her expression hardens. "I know," she breathes, her voice a strained whisper. "But that’s not the point."

Before you can say anything else, she stands up shakily, her body swaying as she steadies herself. Her eyes scan the group—Jimin, Jungkook, Jin, and Taehyung are all still fighting off the infected, unaware of what’s just transpired.

She stumbles forward, her voice hoarse with pain. "Taehyung!" she yells, her voice frantic. "Taehyung, you need to listen! Y/N—"

You can’t let her finish. You grab her by the shoulder, spinning her around to face you. "Hana, stop!" you warn, your voice firm. "You’re not going to lie about this."

But Hana isn’t listening. Her eyes dart to the group, and she forces the words out between ragged breaths. "Y/N—Y/N got bitten too! She’s infected! She’s the one who’s dangerous! You need to protect yourselves!"

Your stomach drops, and your heart hammers in your chest. The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything stops. The world around you—Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, Jin—seems to freeze.

Taehyung is the first to react, his eyes narrowing in confusion and disbelief. "What are you talking about, Hana?" he asks, stepping forward. "Y/N hasn’t been bitten."

You open your mouth to deny it, to tell him it’s all a lie, but the words die in your throat. Hana’s accusation lingers like poison in the air, and for a brief, terrible second, you wonder if she’s right.

Your heart races, but you can feel it—the eyes of the boys, their suspicion rising. It’s like they’re all waiting for you to confirm it. They’re waiting for you to admit the truth.

The group stands frozen, every pair of eyes now locked on you. You try to speak, to clear the air, but the words are stuck. You can feel your pulse thudding in your ears, the weight of their stares suffocating. Taehyung’s face falls as he searches for any hint of truth in your eyes, but you know the damage has already been done.

"Y/N..." Taehyung says, his voice full of uncertainty. "Is it true? Did you... get bitten?"

The silence stretches between you like a chasm. Your mind races, your heart aches. Why would Hana lie like this? Is she trying to tear you apart? But the look in Taehyung’s eyes—this mixture of concern and doubt—makes your breath catch in your throat. You’re not sure if you can make them believe you anymore.

"No!" you finally choke out, shaking your head vehemently. "I’m not infected! I’m fine, I swear! You’ve seen me—"

But Hana interrupts you, her voice cutting through your explanation with venom. "You’re lying! I saw it! I saw the mark! She’s infected, Taehyung! I’m trying to protect all of you! If we don’t do something now—"

"Enough!" Taehyung’s voice booms across the street, a sudden sharpness in his tone that cuts through the chaos. His eyes shift from Hana to you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something—anything—that will clear your name.

But instead, he simply stands there, torn, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and Hana. His jaw tightens, his hands clenching at his sides. “I need to think.”

That’s it. The words fall like a hammer, sealing the silence. His gaze is full of indecision, the weight of the world crashing down on him. In that moment, you feel utterly alone. The warmth you felt from him moments ago has vanished, replaced by something colder—something distant.

Jin steps forward, his voice measured but full of concern. "We can’t keep arguing. We need to focus on surviving right now. If Y/N is lying—" He pauses, glancing at you briefly, then at Hana. "We deal with it. But not here. Not like this."

Jimin, usually the peacekeeper, stands beside him, his face hard. "We don’t have time for this. We need to move out, now. The infected are closing in, and we’re all in danger. Let’s figure this out later."

But it’s too late. The damage is done. The doubt has been planted. The seeds of distrust have taken root.

The group moves out in silence, but the tension is unbearable. As you walk, you can’t shake the feeling that they’re all watching you—waiting for any sign, any moment of weakness. The weight of Hana’s words hangs over you like a cloud.

As you move forward, your eyes dart to Taehyung’s figure in the distance. He hasn’t looked at you once since he heard Hana’s accusations. You want to reach out, to pull him back, to show him that you’re not infected—but every time you try, the words get stuck in your throat. What can you say now? How can you prove it when they’ve already begun to doubt you?

And Hana—Hana’s gaze is burning into the back of your neck. Her smirk, twisted with satisfaction, is almost unbearable. She watches you closely, like a predator waiting for its prey to break.

You don’t know how much longer you can keep it together. The virus isn’t the only enemy you have to fight now. The truth—whatever it is—is slipping through your fingers, and you don’t know how to stop it.

To be continued...

[mingsolo]

Attempt Etude

seonghwa (alucard ) x yunho (trevor belmont) x reader (sypha belnades) / fantasy au, castlevania au, angst, romance, poly (implied, suggested but not confirmed) / warnings: blood mentions, violence, cursing, alcohol intake, suggestive tones / wc: 3k, r: 18+

posting late! very on brand of me (not proud at all) but it´s here! hope it doesn´t feel rushed. I wanted something darker, something bloodier, but my head is not in that space rn. this is done for another crazy collab with my dream team! (@daemour @sanjoongie @flurrys-creativity and @potatomountain) don´t forget to check their stories which i´´ll be reading and rebloging following up this one, please enjoy, cause some of us suffered!

It was another day on foot towards Bralia. 

You walked front. The bickering of Seonghwa and Yunho getting louder, and meaner by the second. You were about to shut them off when suddenly you noticed the path had become different.

“Shh, wait” you whispered, lifting a finger and making both men freeze. 

“What is it?” Yunho asked.

“Hm. On the ground, look” Seonghwa glanced at their feet. He got a closer look, confirming your suspicions.

“They are here, probably between the taller trees”

You got in position, and your partners did the same. You were hungry, thirsty and not in the mood to loose to some devil, night creature, vampire or whatever these footprints belonged to.

“Night creatures?” Yunho asked, hand on his whip. 

“Whatever it is, be alert” Seonghwa walked slowly towards you, and as soon as he reached you, you noticed.

“Shit. the trees are so tall, it–”

“... practically night down here” Seonghwa finished for you. He then whispered. “On guard, they´re here”.

As soon as he finished talking, the whooshing sounds of something moving between the trees resonated against the utter silence. Then they launched against you. Seonghwa moved fast, tacking you down to prevent the creature from grabbing you. Yunho launched his whip against it a few feets back.

“Stay sharp” Seonghwa disappeared, well rather sprinted so fast you couldn't see him. The creature, one of them, wasted no time and launched at you again as Seonghwa disappeared. You launched icy pillars to its front, quickly dodging him., but he was persistent. 

Seonghwa´s sword swinging catched nothing but air. Yunho´s whip did no better. These creatures had thought of this attack. If you didn´t stop them soon they would overpower the three of you, and who knows how many of them were hiding, ready to launch at you too when you were too  vulnerable. 

You screamed, pushing back the one attacking you, placing your palms over its roughen skin. The fire burning in your palms made the creature retreat before gaining speed and launching back. You took a few steps back ready to receive his attack, when something grabbed you from behind. 

In a blink of an eye you were being dragged against the mud, when you felt a strike of air rush in front of your face. Yunho´s groan accompanied by the swing of his whip hit the creature that had a hold of you. The hit in your head made you dizzy but you managed to stand up and make an energy barrier around you. Yunho launched himself back to the creature.

“Yunho no!” you shouted but he was already beating the creature, or rather, trying not to let himself be.

You sprint to help, but are stopped by a sharp clawed hand ripping your arm. The sting was painful, but you had no time to complain. Seonghwa kept fighting about three of them to your right. You launched a few flames at the creature´s feet, it squealed and backed off. You created more flames on your palms when you saw it, two more appeared by its side, the three of them ready for you.

As they were sprinting ready to attack, you saw, or heard the familiar sound of Seonghwa making its way through the trees, one of them lunged towards you, making your back hit the ground. Seonghwa launched his sword at its head, but just as quickly another was on top of you. Your flames kept them back but they quickly went at you. 

“Fuck,” Yunho groaned. He aimed his whip at the creature's head on top of you. With gritted teeth, he pushed the one fighting him and wrapped his whip around it until it was finished, quickly running towards you. 

You saw him launch himself on top of the creature growling at you, he was beating himself up. You glanced at Seonghwa, he was too. You just wished he knew what he was doing. 

Yunho killed one and then threw away the other one. You stood up and ran to the middle, between your partners and launched icy pillars and flames to the creatures as both Seonghwa and Yunho launched them in the air. 

There was only one of them left, and just as it appeared, it retreated back into the trees.

“Fuck, about time they backed up,”Yunho spoke under his breath. 

“Exactly. We need to move, there's probably more coming” Seonghwa said, still alert in case a sudden launch of claws appeared in front of his face. 

The tree of you moved quickly, the sun was blinding the moment you stepped out of the forest. 

“They won't attack us here, let's rest for a bit, then we can go to the nearest town and find and in” Seonghwa suggested, gathering wood to light a fire pit.

“And something to eat, I'm starving” you added. You sat against a rock, thankfully it was a flatten one, when Yunho approached you as Seonghwa disappeared for a bit. 

“Are you alright?” 

You blinked slowly at him. It was not like Yunho to come to you and ask you if you were doing fine out of the blue. “A little beaten, nothing that fresh bread and some ale can´t fix”. 

“Yeah, alright.. Hm” he seemed to want to say something more but didn´t. “What about that?” he eyed the long scratch on your arm.

“It's fine, I fixed it already, thankfully I moved fast so it wasn't too deep. I just need to rest, and take a warm bath”. 

Again he seemed to want to add something else. 

“And some ale! And bread!” you kept going. It was bothering you that he just seemed to have trouble saying whatever he wanted to say. “Anyways, it's a beautiful sunset, I like it way better than inside that filthy forest” you chuckled. 

“Hm. Yeah,” Yunho whispered.

“Out with it Yunho, you want to say something?” you squint your eyes at him, cornering him up.

“What do you mean?” 

“It's not like you to come and ask me if i´m alright, there's something weird with you tonight”.

“We almost died back there, I might be melancholic”.

You laughed. Yunho´s vulnerable side was something you didn't expect to witness today. “Sorry, I just.. It's so weird seeing you act like this–” you turned to see him, and got startled by the way he was looking at you. “Yunho?” 

There it was, it was a fine smile drawn on his lips. His eyes shone brightly. He seemed happy. 

“Sorry, I– just enjoy when you laugh, you look beautiful”. 

“What?” you snapped. 

Yunho frowned, he had just said it without thinking. Yes. He wasn't thinking at all. “I mean,” he coughed trying to make up the words he wanted to say.

“Stop with that!” you pushed him back. “Don't say things you don't mean” you stood up, going to sit across from him. 

“What the fuck did I do?” Yunho groaned, standing up and walking past you, probably to find Seonghwa and retaliate his anger towards him.

.

.

.

“Just so you know, you should take care of her tonight”.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes at his companion, turning his head to look at you, sitting a few tables back speaking to an old man animatedly. The same man you said “looked like an old mage” as soon as the three of you entered the tavern after wandering around almost all night. 

“I don’t think your friend can hold on anymore, I don’t want to have to clean up her mess if she throws up on my table”. The tavern owner looked at both Seonghwa and Yunho with a raised eyebrow as a warning.

“See, that’s exactly what I am saying” Yunho turned back to Seonghwa, pushing his cheek with his tongue and giving you a quick annoyed glance.  Seonghwa sighs, getting up from his seat and walking towards you. 

“Thought you said you were good with alcohol?”. he sat beside you, crossing his arms and legs. “Come on, come back with us, leave this poor man alone”. The old man looked at you with pleading eyes, and signaled how he couldn't unlink his arm from yours. 

You threw your hands at Seonghwa, getting closer and brushing your lips on his cheek. “You come to rescue me, or him?” you whispered before bursting into laughter and going back to the old man’s side. “I'm not going ANYWHERE WITH THAT PRICK” you snapped out so Yunho could hear. It was a successful call out as he turned again, now looking even more annoyed.

“Aha!” Seonghwa turned, “So he made you mad and now I'm paying the price” 

You got closer to him again slowly, fluttering your eyelashes. “Am I that much of a nuance for you, Hwa?”

“When you are angry— yes, you are insufferable, now that three drinks to that and no one is safe”.

“Oh she’s had more than three, she had taken mine too!” the old guy finally snapped, taking the chance to free from your arm and leave the table, taking what was left of his drink with him.

“You scared him! He was telling me how to cut time on our way to Bralia!” 

Seonghwa laughed, taking your hand and dragging you back to the counter where Yunho was hunched on his seat. “Come one you can talk about this with him, don't be childish”.You took your seat in between them, but without looking at Yunho to your right. Yunho glanced at you for a second, before going back to stare at his drink. 

“How are you not drunk yet? Though the Jeon’s had it in their blood” Seonghwa snapped at Yunho trying to break the silence that followed but was unsuccessful. “Well, cheer up you two, we still in one piece —against all odds”

“Exaaaactly! Let's cheer for that! You let out with a hiccup, asking the bartender for another round. The very tall and very bald man grinned behind his mustache but served each of you another round.

“I seriously think you shouldn't…” Yunho started but you quickly shut him up.

“Leave the thinking to Hwa or me, alright? I had enough of your ideas tonight” 

Yunho grunted, turning to the side and gulping his drink in one go.

Seonghwa soothed the space between his eyebrows and sighed deeply. This was going to be a long night unless he dug on what got you two grumpy at each other. And the sooner the better, if he wished to have some decent sleep before venturing into the deep forest again tomorrow morning. 

“Can you join me outside for a second? I need some fresh air” he asked. He knew Yunho wouldn’t say a word and he still didn't know how to push him to open up to him. But you were a firecracker, a few paths in the back and you will tell him about everything. 

Seonghwa was just about to ask you what had happened when you snapped.

“HE CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL!”

He blinked for a few seconds, letting out a dry laugh. “So that’s what happened back there! No wonder why he kept groaning instead of helping me get the wood for the fire pit”.

“He was! I don’t know…afraid to die back there I guess, I man he could have panicked!” you stumbled between words. You knew Yunho meant it, but you didn’t want to accept the fact that on what he thought it was going to be his last thought, he decided to call you beautiful. 

“Darling, you know he meant what he said. Why are you upset about that instead of acting on it?” 

You blushed hard. You have been so attached to both Seonghwa and Yunho since the journey started. You have learned to confide and love them both. But with Seonghwa, even in his constant silence, things were easier to say. Now Yunho… he made you weak cause you could trust Seonghwa to take care of himself, but Yunho needed you the most, he was still very broken. You shook your head. Yunho would hate hearing you talk of him like this, but, it was how you felt… 

“Seriously, you two need to fuck soon, im getting tired of this.” 

You freezed in place. “Seonghwa!” 

“I mean it. I would gladly let Yunho join anytime you want, you know I love you both, but I do think you need a first time alone before that can happen”. He smiled, grabbing you by your chin.

“Stop that!” you blushed hard. The alcohol mixed with the swirling on your stomach caused a rather unpleasant reaction. “I dont wnt to fuck him, he– I don’t know how to feel about him!” 

“You love him, just like you love me, well this hurt me to say but you might love him a little more, you are just too proud to admit it”. 

“Hwa…” 

Soeghwa raised his eyebrows. “It’s fine sweet, Jeon has that drunk charm that's hard to resist, I guess.” he chuckled and you pushed him back, to which he theatrically retreated. 

“Alright alright, I give up for now, but seriously you need to talk to him, he’s harmless like a cat, and he— Wait here, I’ll let him say it”.

Seonghwa sat you gently in the stool outside the tavern. You hugged yourself head spinning and legs trembling. You weren’t sure you were drunk anymore, the idea of Yunho and you… and Seonghwa…

A few minutes later you could hear the voices inside the tavern getting louder, and a couple of grunts and loud steps startled you. You stood up to check what was happening inside when suddenly the door opened, and Yunho was pushed outside, Seonghwa peeking his head by the door. “You two will settle this tonight. I won't let you in until you do.” with that said he closed the door behind him. 

“Bastard! Open up!!” Yunho grunted trying to open the door. Inside you could hear the voice of the tavern owner yelling at Seonghwa for barricading the door, to which you smiled, as if it would be a harder challenge to pretend he was struggling to keep them away, than actually doing it. You turned to Yunho, who kept grunting trying to open the door from outside, so you knew you had to do this quickly.

“Yunho,” you stood beside him, eyes on the dark starry night, calling him out but trying to avoid him at the same time. “Seonghwa is right. We need to talk this up”.

“Talk about what? Oh yes, the fact that you pushed me back when I said … forget it”.

“Yes yes, about that.” you sighed.

“You know I wasn’t lying, so what do you want to pretend I did? That wasn’t even the only thing I was going to say before you punched me”. Yunho grunted.

You froze again. Oh no. Here it comes. ”What do you mean?” 

Yunho tried but quickly stumbled on his words, looking everywhere to focus his eyes on, but you. “I care about you, back there we could– have died, and that never scared me before,” you tensed up and crossed your arms over your chest, eyes drifting over to him. “Now that I have you two, I don´t know, I think I would like to live a little longer…” He was looking at his feet, but suddenly his eyes lifted and met yours.

“Yunho…”

“Fuck I´d rather be back fighting night creatures,” You knew he was going to back off if you didn´t say anything, and only the thought of him blocking himself to you made your guts swirl again.

“Yunho! Just say it!”

Yunho looked at you like a nervous dog waiting to be scolded. He looked anxious, he knew the words but he didn't know how to say them. Suddenly, both turned around and saw the knob turning without success.

“Geez. listen, I like you, I know you know but you always take everything I say so… lightly”.

“Yunho, you always say dumb things that get us in trouble, and you are always half drunk if not drunk completely, and– you always say how idealistic I am and how much it bothers you, you don't take me seriously either”.

“Yeah but that’s not things that make me dislike you, I actually admire those things, and you make us get in trouble far more than me by the record”.

“Oh you–”

“So, what I'm trying to say is that I like you– I do think you are beautiful, daring, and you always fight without trying to hurt innocent people, even if you don't like violence. I– never met someone like you before” 

You kept silent but smiled, you wanted to say a thousand things but words felt useless. You wanted to tell him that you liked him, even loved him as well. That you were grateful to have them both beside you on this journey. If he just did what you were thinking… If you just did it.

Yunho leaned towards you, smiling shyly and your eyes shone at how delicate he looked even if he was practically towering you up. He got closer and closer and you closed your eyes instinctively, waiting for him to brush his lips against yours at least, when the sudden stomp for the door being pushed open startled both, making Yunho move the inches back away from you. 

“So, is it settled?” Seonghwa laughed, getting breathless by the second as the bald tavern owner and the few other guys inside fell over him finally making him move away from the door.

Yunho smiles sweetly at you. A smile you had only seen on him the day the three fought and won against the night creatures of Dracula, back in the castle. 

You smiled at him, and then at Seonghwa. 

“Almost,” you replied sweetly, as Yunho and you helped Seonghwa stand up, as the men cursed at you three and closed the door in Seonghwa´s face. “Thanks Hwa, for giving us some time”.

Seonghwa smirked, flattened his jacket and started walking. “I´d hope you would kiss her at least Jeon, but you ain't very good with words”. 

“Bastard, you were listening?!” Yunho grunted, immediately following him down the stone path towards the in. The sun was coming up and you looked at the sky for a moment. The bickering of your two companions served as white noise and even behind Yunho´s cursing and Seonghwa´s snarky replies, you smiled.

 It felt so warm, like home, like a real family.

@mingsolo please do not repost/translate to other sites.

a/n: thank you for reading until the end! i have a half written part two for this, and yes,it gets spicey ;)