#i hate tagging please know i am tagging this against my will

[shardminds]

unrequited (terrifying!)

pairing: elain archeron x lucien vanserra rating: t (for too bad they don't kiss in this one) wc: 2.5k almost primary tag: love realisation, laufey - from the start, love is driving me a bit insane

read on ao3 or proceed under the cut

There’s a thin line between infatuation and obsession. A thin thin line. 

Elain isn’t sure on which side of it she stands when it comes to Lucien Vanserra. 

“There’s our foxling!” Cassian calls, after Feyre and a toddling Nyx open the River House doors to the courtier. He’s wearing green again. Emerald, not sage like last time. Elain adds it to the mental list she maintains, of colours she can’t ever look at without thinking of him. The velvet couch beneath her feels hot, or maybe that’s just her. 

There’s half a smile caught at the edge of his mouth, hinting at teeth as he steps into Feyre’s arms. Elain isn’t envious of the way her sister’s arms circle his broad shoulders, or how Lucien leans into them, his own arms wrapping around her back. It was too easy to forget how much Feyre cared for him, of the bond they forged in darkness and the weight of mountains on their shoulders. Elain could see it, like ivy coiled and climbing around a them both. If he held her like that, touched her like that, she might break. Or do something stupid. Like sigh, or melt.

“Lovely as always, Feyre.” He says, pulling back to place a kiss on her sister’s cheek. 

“Speak for yourself! Your hair’s longer.” Feyre picks an auburn braid twisted over his shoulder. It is longer, unbound strands almost reaching his waist. There are smaller braids trailed through it, each one sealed with a golden cuff, catching in the faelight, or the setting sun, or the hearth fire. Had he styled them himself? An image springs to mind of Lucien sat before a polished mirror, candle flickering in the reflection. There’s an unmade bed behind him, sheets soft in the memory, as his fingers twist sections around each other, securing with thin leather and gold clasps. In her mind, he’s topless, for some reason. Perhaps he hadn’t been alone. Elain shakes it off, nails biting into the fabric of her skirts. 

“Things tend to grow over time,” He steps back, reaching down to ruffle Nyx’s hair, fingers carding through dark silk. Elain knows just how soft it is. She’d bathed him this morning. “Just like this one.”

Nyx babbles at the attention, speaking nonsense noises that not even she can understand. He reaches up for Lucien’s hand and grips his finger between chubby palms. Lucien lets himself be pulled, dragged down until he’s kneeling, still taller than Nyx’s toddling height. Feyre’s smile could’ve lit the entire court. 

Things grow over time. Oh, she could write essays on that particular subject. Or several particularly revealing diary entries, at least.

“Just wait until you see him fly.”

Elain had felt Rhysand’s arrival long before the other’s, apparently. Even Cassian started at his interruption from the top of the stairs. He takes the steps a mite quicker than usual, and offers Lucien his own greeting — raising him from the floor before pulling him in for a swift embrace. Rhysand’s warming to Lucien had been inevitable. Each and every one of his inner circle had taken to treating him with something akin to kindness in the years since Hyburn’s defeat and Koschei’s fall. Not surprising. That’s just how he is.

“I dare say I’ll get to witness that treat later,” He muses as Nyx runs back to his mother, gripping at Feyre’s skirts, demanding her attention as he does when he feels he’s been too long without it. “And how are you fairing, Rhysand? Fatherhood still keeping you occupied?”

“In ways I could’ve never anticipated. Is Eris still—” 

“A cunt?” His laugh is whiskey and molasses. Poison and its balm. It doesn’t hurt but Elain steels for it, as always. The weight in her chest begging to be felt. “Of course. I doubt he’ll surprise us by changing anytime soon.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Azriel calls from the chaise, furthest away from the fire, strategically placed to view the whole room from his seat. The circlet on his wrist is new, a wreath of golden flame atop his scars. 

“I’ve no doubt you will.” Rhys rolls his eyes. “Can I get you a drink, friend?”

“Or three.”

Elain hates that she wants him so badly. That the mere sight of him curls through her like warm oil and smoke, shrouding rational thought in delirium. Desire is not something so unfamiliar. And yet, if he knows of how she dreams of thicker fingers when touching herself, he does not let on. 

No. He barely even looks her way. Conversation flows without her, thankfully.

In another time, it would’ve been a blessing: To be free of his attention, his expectation. The absence of his gaze is a weightless feeling, similar only to the first crack of thunder after hours of rain, a crack through the silence, a secret finally told. Relief, if anything. That, in itself, should be a comfort. Her mate cannot give her the comfort she needs, but he allows her this. 

But somehow it’s worse. Freefall, instead of freedom. Nightmares wake her most nights, the breath stolen from her lungs seconds before screams think of forming. The craving for gravity roots in her gut like convolvulus coiling around the golden tether of their souls. It calls to her, the bond, so she lets the weeds thrive until it’s nothing but a rope of green, glowing from the inside out, begging it to silence. The phantom tugs between her ribs a memory.

It always burns through by morning. Rich and vibrant and gold. 

“Elain,” 

She whips around, standing, skirts still bunched in her fists. A curl falls free from the updo Nesta had arranged it in before she departed with the Valkyries, all plaits and pins and far too elaborate for something as informal as this. Too delicate. Azriel casts her a look from his perch. Ever the spectator, rarely the participant. A shadow curls around his forearm, tapping patterns against his forearm in a code she doesn’t recognise. “Honey wine?”

He doesn’t say are you okay? or lost again? like when they used to disappear in each others company instead of playing house with the others; talking for hours in the gardens, sat in the rafters of the house of wind, in the library at the river house. Becoming fey had been an isolating experience — nothing made sense then, little more makes sense now — but Azriel had helped in a way. He was her choice, her first friend. 

The tilt to his head, the knife at his belt. He’ll carve the side he wants to pick.

Elain shakes away the wispy threads of a vision. A golden thread, wrapped in soft vines, hums in her chest. There’s no shifting that one, unfortunately. What’s most unfortunate is she’s not 100% sure if that’s a problem anymore. 

“Please.” It comes as a croak. She clears her throat, as if that will help. “Please, that sounds—”

“I’ve actually had some spiced cider imported from our personal cellars back in Autumn,” Lucien starts, seemingly to Rhysand and not her, and yet saving her from the spotlight nonetheless. Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre — hells, even Azriel all look towards the emissary. “Courtesy of Eris, I’ll admit. Although, it is a childhood favourite of mine. Best served hot, if you’re able.” 

Childhood to the fey is clearly much different to that of the human realms. 

“It would be rude to refuse,” Rhys, a smirking Feyre at his side, flicks his hand at the table. A magic trick so practiced, the clink of the glasses on the table is no longer a surprise. 

Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, anise steaming in heavy plumes of steam — It’s him. It smells like him.

A warm glass is placed in her hand and—oh, how stupid she must look staring off into the place settings, attempting to distract herself from draining the whole thing. Bronzed leaves twined with ears of corn and barley, curls of pumpkin vines threaded between goblet and plate and candlestick. Brown and red and yellow and orange and gold. Always gold. Always in her periphery. Always watching. 

Her eyes slip shut, brows furrowing slightly, intentionally underplayed. Best to fake a migraine than to admit the truth. Best to fake anything else than to admit she was wrong all this time.

She’s not been able to look at the colors of change since Eris’ coronation to High Lord of Autumn. On the last night of fall’s end, atop the decorated tombs of their ancestors, only one left noticeably bare. The High Lord wore a crown of oak, thorns and nightshade, set aflame at the last touch of sunset. He looked resplendent, born for the throne, but Lucien— he’d braided strands of spun gold into his hair, then. As usual, she ached to touch them. It’s worse now. Seeing him each time. It’s worse. 

It’s too late. A voice whispers. Her voice. Viscous poison in her head. You’ve made your intent clear. You have been too cold, too distant. You can’t love him. You can’t love him, you barely know him. You owe each other nothing. 

A smaller voice whispers back. You owe it to each other to try.

“A toast,” Rhys starts, never one to let silence poison his home. “To old friends—”

Elain can see him behind her eyes. You’re my mate he says, as the world crashes around them. A bronze skinned fae with dark coiled hair and warmed amber eyes stands over his shoulder, eclipsed in an aura of gold. She is not real, Elain can tell. But at the time— You’re my mate. The fae female presses a kiss to his shoulder and Lucien doesn’t even flinch. She drifts away, but no one says a thing. Not even him, eyes full of an emotion she can’t quite face. Revelation is the closest she’s ever come to deciphering it. She’s seen it since. Too many times. 

Somewhere in the recesses of her closet is the cloak he shrouded her in. 

It no longer smells like him, like woodsmoke and leafmould. 

She wonders if he thinks about it like she does. If he notices its absence in his wardrobe, or misses its gilded collar, brass buttons and plush embroidered lining — now frayed from how often her fingers passed over it. If she returned it after all this time, would he spend the same nights memorising the changes? Evidence that she thought of him, or that she cared at all.

“—and new ones—” Feyre adds, a babbling Nyx muttering over her. There’s a touch of concern to her tone but Elain ignores it. Has to. 

She’s still trapped to the visions behind her eyelids. He sent her music, bird song, poetry, sunlight. From summer coasts to winter peaks, vicious overgrowth of untapped spring to autumn’s ever falling leaves. If he meant to, she’d never asked. Never even thought to query it. Too focused on avoiding the pull in her gut to be near him. Feeding the hesitation that set in whenever it was clear he would be visiting. He was not entitled to her attention because some divine power bound them. She was not entitled to the grip of his hands on her thighs the gift of his private smiles, the press of his palm against her lower stomach— 

Even if she wants it. 

The decision isn’t one of impulse, not really. 

Not often did she give their bond the benefit of the doubt. Not often did she feel along its coiled threads, each one another tie — it was not just one single entity, but thousands. Thousands of minuscule strands, thin as spiderweb. They drip and reform and writhe at her attention, signing as if praised, as if a disciple and she a god. Not often did she thank its weight. But she held it now, inside her mind. Squeezed just a little. Just enough.

She opens her eyes, still only half focused on the table decorations. 

“—and whatever they—”

“New beginnings.” 

Rhysand is interrupted which, surprisingly, is a rare occurrence. Even Nesta had settled into a kind of quiet distaste for his theatrics come family dinner rather than outward ones, but Nesta is somewhere high on the Illyrian steppes, sword in her hand, sweat on her brow. A promise curled behind silver. War fresh queen come reap the soul, and once razed earth combine them whole.

It’s not until she takes a breath that Elain even registers it was her. She was the one interrupting. Mind half curled around memories and prophecy, too preoccupied to stop the thought from slipping past. Rhysand looks her way but she can’t quite meet the question in his eyes. To answer would be her end. Her destruction.

There’s a bundle of ash samaras behind a young pumpkin, tucked into the elaborate table setting. It’s the first time she’s seen them since crossing the wall and, absurdly enough, something inside her clicks. Of simpler times. When life passed by in hazy slow motion. They used to play with them as children, throwing clutches into the air and watching as they spiraled to the ground, like autumn snowfall. She can’t even touch them now. Not without pain. 

But sometimes, it’s worth it. It’s all worth it. 

Elain clears her throat.

“To new beginnings.” It comes more alert— assertive, even. Although, still rough as ash bark in her throat.

The bond in her chest, the one she’d ignored all this time, tugs in response. 

“New beginnings.” Lucien says, in the first words he’d said to her in months— years, perhaps. An echo. A prayer.

“New beginnings!” Cassian raises his glass, then Azriel, Feyre and Rhys, then him. Her throat aches when she looks to him, unready to meet his eyes just yet just in case she can’t tear away this time. Instead, Elain focuses on a broach on his lapel. Hyacinth blooms inlaid with gold and pearl, catching in the fey lights, shimmering. It’s beautiful. 

He’s smiling. This much she knows.

The hot spiced apple tastes like a kiss.

[thetisming]

amatonormativity: a romantic partner should be the most important person in EVERYONE'S life

NOT amatonormativity: MY romantic partner is the most important person in MY life, but i understand this is not the same for other people

allosexnormativity: EVERYONE should have sex and sex is something EVERYONE needs/wants/should want

NOT allosexnormativity: I PERSONALLY enjoy sex and love having sex because it makes ME feel good, but other people dont feel the same and that's okay

platonormativity: having friends is important for EVERYONE and EVERYONE needs/has/should have friends

NOT platonormativity: having friends is important to ME and I PERSONALLY love having friends, but there are people who dont and theres nothing wrong with that

faminormativity (is that the word?): family is important for EVERYONE and EVERYONE needs to have their family

NOT faminormativity: family is important to ME and I PERSONALLY need my family with me, but other people dont feel the same and i understand that

lovenormativity (again, not sure if this is a word): EVERYBODY feels love and there's something wrong wiith you if you dont

NOT lovenormativity: I PERSONALLY feel love and love people, but not everyone does and that's completely okay!

NOT amatonormativity: i dont have friends/have any desire to have friends, i am happy with other relationships/no relationships at all

NOT platonormativity: i dont have any desire to be in a romantic relationships, and i am happy with my platonic relationships

NOT allosexnormativity: i like hooking up with people and having one night stands or friends with benefits

NOT faminormativity: i care about my family deeply and am close with family members

NOT lovenormativity: i feel love for people i care about

it's not normative to personally enjoy something, so long as you respect that other people simply arent like you and aren't going to like the same things as you. taking down normativity is a two way street, allos and aspecs need to do it. support your local aros, aces, apls, afams and other aspecs today! remember to challange all normativities, and to not enforce other normativity by saying how bullshit other normativities are!

nothing is universal. romance is not universal. sex is not universal. friendship is not universal. family is not universal. love is not universal. nothing is universal.

[blue-eli]

Ink October day twenty-nine: Wilder

To bewilder; to perplex.

Comparative form of wild: more wild.

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

To people who don't know what happened :

Basically another chat got leaked between what seems to be Build and someone else , where he's seen asking for money multiple times , and cursing people who exposed his old problematic tweets on twitter , being homophobic (as a joke 🙁) and other things among many.

As any sane person would think , i also had doubts about the authenticity of the texts and all , but then everyone basically unfollowed him on Instagram and build also tweeted an apology.

Apology confirms that those are genuine right??

He genuinely badmouthed his costars who were there working their asses off for a show that got cancelled once and had to begin production again.

Like , he does not seem like a good coworker , all things considered. And he's so much trouble to the company as a whole , which has pretty ungrateful fans following it's artists.

(idk some tweets just make me go , it's a tough industry . They're atleast still getting work from a show that's been done airing for a year and with no hope of season 2 . They can't create work , but they're still doing very well for a smallass company)

I initially read his fans' responses which were along the lines of "if your texts with your bestie leaks then will you be safe?"

And although that's a very .... Erm ... creative way to view things , I don't think that's barely enough here.

He was badmouthing basically apo , jeff and barcode, and nodt and mile(?) I'm unclear on the details. I get that you may be angry at your coworkers , there may be squabbles but that's not what this was about?? Jeffbarcode were accused of being boc's favourites (??????) and had more pictures taken than everyone else(??????????????) They had like 15 mins of screentime. What is this man on about?

I just straight up don't trust this man anymore.

I don't care about his story. He's so much trouble than he's worth and every day there's something up with him.

[astralazuli]

So there's that D&D class quiz going around, & I took it & was so deeply offended I got Paladin.

& so I have had conversations with both Bestie & Birdfriend about this grave insult & they both were like, "Well... They have a point?" & informed me that my desire to absorb hits meant for others & deep drive to help whenever I actually can & strong convictions make me a bit Paladin-coded.

& I am just so... Idk. It's just interesting to get glimpses of yourself from other people's POVs. To be told that my defining characteristics are protecting & healing others & being incredibly fighty about the things I care about... Especially as someone whose brain specifically fixates on whether I care enough, do enough, give enough... Yeah. It's just kinda wild.

Anyway, I'm now adjusting my self-perception to include the fact that if I were a D&D character, I would be an Oath of the Ancients Paladin & not a wizard & that actually that's okay.

[tgirljoker]

arven is the best of the trio in pokescarvio like penny and nemona barely even classify as characters

[pedrospatch]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

[kwanisms]

The Witch & the Lamb — k.hongjoong

library of illusion masterlist | next »»

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

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

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

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

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

Unless that villager was you, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the day Hongjoong knew he loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Hongjoong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps he will ask you to m–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me.”

You nearly choked on your own breath at his command.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouldn’t we both be naked?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeosang, what is–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————

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

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you asked as she bustled about, grabbing your clothes. “Get dressed, hurry,” your mother said, setting your clothes on your bed before she exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

You dressed quickly, now aware of the sound of yelling coming from outside your house. You pulled your boots on and hurried down the stairs where your mother stood by the window next to the door, peering outside looking nervous. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, joining her and looking out the window. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “But something bad must have happened.” You watched as a crowd gathered and you could see the familiar outline of Yeosang. You darted for the door, ignoring your mother’s warning hisses of your name and opened it, stepping out into the misty morning.

Outside, you could hear the yelling much more clearly.

“Someone has killed my pig! Gutted her and took her head!”

You froze by the door as you listened to the clear voice of Gideon. 

“My poor Eliza opened the door and found the head sitting there, propped up like some kind of prank!” Just under his voice, you could hear a woman sobbing, no doubt Eliza from finding a decapitated pig head.

“It’s the devil’s work, I tell ya!” another voice said, one you recognized to be Josiah. “Witches!” a woman’s voice rang out. Your heart skipped a beat as more and more villagers chimed in, laying bare their own misfortunes.

“My vegetables have gone bad before even ripening! This isn’t normal!”

“Witches are responsible!”

“They must be!”

“I’ve lost two goats this month alone! Someone’s cursed the village for sure!”

“People please!” another voice rang out. This one you recognized to be Yeosang. “We don’t even know if this is witchcraft!” he continued, ignoring the cries of the villagers. “Hysteria will not help our situation!”

The crowd started to protest, a mixture of angry to panicked cries. The voice of Jonas rang out over the crowd. “Pastor Kang is right. Hysteria will not solve this! The church will conduct an investigation to determine if the source is indeed witchcraft.”

“Investigate the hermit in the woods! He’s probably the culprit!”

You felt anger surge through your body at the mention of Hongjoong. “He’s not a hermit!” another voice rang out. “I’ve seen him at the morning markets trading and selling furs and herbs!”

“He’s a witch!” one voice rang out and you recognized it to be Abel. “His mother was a witch! She probably passed it on to him!”

“Yeah! Witch!”

Your heart rate quickened as the villagers started to shout in the affirmative, calling Hongjoong a witch. Before you could even start towards the crowd. Yeosang spoke up again. “Let’s not point fingers until we know for certain!”

His words fell on deaf ears as more people started to shout. You watched Yeosang turn to Jonas, a pleading look on his face. Jonas finally spoke up. “That’s enough! We will conduct an investigation and if we find evidence of witchcraft, we will question this man but until then, everyone go about your business and leave this matter to the church!”

There was a subtle murmur throughout the crowd as it started to disperse, clearly placated enough to calm down. You watched as everyone went their separate ways until Yeosang appeared.

He met your gaze and immediately started walking in your direction. You glanced around as he approached and gently took your arm, guiding you away from sight before he turned to speak.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said softly. You nodded, watching him as he glanced around once more. “I need you to stay out of the forest,” he explained. You opened your mouth to protest but he held up a hand.

“Not forever,” he added. “I know you won’t stay away from Hongjoong that long. I just need you to stay out of the woods until the investigation concludes and we prove that it’s not witchcraft to be blamed. I really don’t want you getting mixed up in this mess. I know Hongjoong would agree with me,” he added when he noticed you were about to say something.

“Just for a few days,” he continued. “Please, Y/N.”

You sighed heavily and nodded. “Fine,” you answered. “But I still want to warn Hongjoong,” you said quickly. He contemplated for a moment before nodding. “All right,” he said. “I think that would be best.”

You turned to start back towards your house but turned back to face him, taking his hand in yours. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said before letting go and heading back home.

That night, you did exactly what you said you were going to do. Once night fell and your parents were asleep, you snuck out and made your way to Hongjoong’s cabin without stopping once.

Once you arrived, you shooed the goats out of your way and pounded on the door in quick succession. It only took Hongjoong a moment to reach the door and open it.

“Y/N, what the—” Hongjoong said as he opened the door, looking over your state.

“The villagers are blaming you for their crops,” you explained quickly. Hongjoong took a step back, allowing you inside before he glanced around outside and shut the door, turning to face you. “What’s going on with their crops?” he asked. “They’re going bad before harvest,” you replied.

Hongjoong shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “Have they never heard of pests?” he joked as he moved across the cottage to the hearth. “Hongjoong, this is serious!” you said as he started to bustle around. “Take a seat,” he said softly, ignoring your concerns.

“Hongjoong!” you exclaimed. “They think you’re a witch and that you’ve cursed them!”

Hongjoong sighed and turned to face you, a black cast iron kettle in his hand. “They’re going to think what they’re going to think, Starlight,” he replied. “These are uncertain times and people are guided by their fear,” he continued, moving to pour the contents of the kettle into two cups before returning the kettle to the fireplace.

You watched as he picked up both cups and moved to the table, setting them both down. “Have a seat, Y/N,” Hongjoong urged gently, sitting down. You finally relented and moved to sit adjacent to him. “I’ve spent my whole life with these allegations,” Hongjoong continued as you peered into the cup before you. “I’ve been called a witch all my life. This is nothing new,” he added, giving you a warm smile.

“It just scares me that they could retaliate wrongly and you could get hurt,” you said softly. “You mean a lot to me, Hongjoong, and the thought of losing you--” you trailed off, tears starting to form in your eyes. You heard wood against wood as Hongjoong shifted his chair to move closer before he took your hands in his. “I’m so thankful that you care about me so much, Starlight,” he said softly.

“But you needn’t worry,” he continued. “Besides, you know they’re right. I am a witch.” You looked up at him in time to catch a wink he sent your way. “But that hasn’t stopped you from being my friend. It hasn’t deterred you from spending time with me. You don’t think any differently of me.”

You shook your head. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, Hongjoong,” you said softly. “Even more so than my own community. I’ve never met someone like you.”

Hongjoong moved his chair directly across from yours, closing the distance between you. “And that’s all I could ever want. You’re the only person in that entire village whose opinion I care about. The others could continue to spread lies and as long as you don’t believe a word of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

You sighed, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just worried what they might do with the allegations. They might act on them, Hongjoong and if they did, I don’t know what they might do!”

Hongjoong set his mug down and took your chin in his fingers, tilting your head back to press a kiss to your lips. “You worry too much, Starlight,” he said softly once the kiss broke. “The village folk have been calling me a witch for years and nothing has come of it,” he continued. You shook your head.

“Yes, but this time, things are actually happening, Hongjoong! They have real reasons to try to blame you for this!” you said exasperatedly. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t more upset about this. Hongjoong let out a sigh. “Alright,” he said softly. “Will it please you if I promise to be more careful and stay out of the village for a few days? Just until things blow over?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. All you wanted for him to be safe. Hongjoong wasn’t just your friend. You loved him. You wanted him to stay safe. “Drink your tea,” Hongjoong said softly, stroking your cheek before he picked up his mug and downed the rest of his and got up.

“I don’t want you to be caught out late again. You can only lie to your mother so many times,” he added as he moved to rinse out his mug. “It’s still kind of early,” you murmured. “I thought I might stay for a bit. I missed you.”

Hongjoong set his mug aside and walked over to where you sat, taking his seat again and leaning in. “You’re so cute,” he said softly, kissing your cheek before getting up and going about his nightly routine. “You can stay for a bit,” he said as you sipped your tea. “But as soon as that’s empty,” he continued, pointing at the mug. “You have to head home.”

You glanced down at the tea, now half empty. You set the mug down as Hongjoong added another log onto the fire. You got up, walking over to where he knelt and knelt behind him, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. Hongjoong took one of your hands in his and kissed the back of it. “I know, love,” he said softly as he pushed the log around to make sure it caught fire.

“But I don’t want you to get in trouble for sneaking out again. Last time you were caught, I didn’t get to see you for two weeks, remember that?” he asked, turning his head to look at you as you raised your head. “Even if it’s just in passing, I prefer seeing you outside the house, not locked up inside.”

You pouted which Hongjoong kissed away. “So go finish your tea and I’ll walk you back.”

You shook your head. “No,” you retorted, holding onto him tighter. Hongjoong chuckled as he set the fire poker aside and stood up, bringing you to a stand as well. “Be a good girl and drink your tea,” he repeated but again you shook your head. “No,” you replied. “I don’t want the tea.”

Hongjoong gently took your wrists as you wrestled him. “If you don’t want tea,” he said, amused at your attempts to fight him. “What do you want?” 

You hugged him tighter. “Just to stay with you a little longer.”

Hongjoong noticed the change in your voice and turned in your arms. “Starlight,” he started but you interrupted him. “Can’t we just run away, Joong?” you asked as he took your face in his hands. “We need time to prepare, sweetheart. I can’t just get up and leave in the middle of the night.”

“Why not?” you asked, pulling back. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave. It would be so easy. “Because of everything in here,” he answered, gesturing around. “Everything in this house is all I have. If we were to leave, we would need food, clothes, a cart, hell, possibly even money! Moving across the country isn’t easy!” he snapped, getting up and walking over to the table, placing his hands on the top and leaning against it.

He’d never lost his temper with you so you sat still, uncertain of what to do or say.

You knew moving wasn’t easy. You’d done it more than once.

“I know it’s not easy,” you said, your voice soft and meek.

You heard Hongjoong turn before you felt his hands take yours and guide you to stand. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I know you know what it’s like to move. To uproot your entire life and take all your possessions. I’ve never done that,” he continued. “I’ve never been away from this forest. I’ve lived here all my life.”

You said nothing, merely nodding along to his words.

He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Starlight,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” You leaned forward, hugging him and burying your face in his chest. His arms settled around you. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I know you’re looking out for me and I can’t express how much I appreciate it but I’ve survived worse than this. I’ll be okay,” he said, resting his cheek on your head. “And tell Yeosang thank you. I know he’s looking out for me as well.”

“He’s asked me to stay out of the woods for a few days while they investigate,” you blurted out. Hongjoong snorted and sighed. “I actually agree with him on that,” he replied, lifting his head as you looked up. “Of course, I’d love for you to come see me but I don’t want you getting mixed up in this either.”

You nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I told him I would but only if I came and warned you first,” you admitted. Hongjoong let out a laugh before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for coming to warn me, Starlight. I appreciate it.”

Despite wanting to spend the night with him one more time, Hongjoong managed to talk you into returning home and walked you to the edge of the forest where you spent far too long saying goodbye with kiss after kiss before finally returning home.

Over the next few days, you kept your promise, only going into the small patch behind your house to forage for mushrooms. The church conducted their investigation and while they did, the villagers grew even more restless, waiting for a result. More crops went bad, another pig was killed in the middle of the night and the villagers were at their breaking point.

You were inside, about a week since you spoke to Yeosang, helping your mother make bread when there was a knock at the door. Your mother moved to answer it and you heard the surprise in her voice. “Oh, Pastor Kang!”

You glanced up as your mother turned to look at you, Yeosang standing in the doorway. “Good ‘morrow, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said, his tone light and pleasant. “I was wondering if I might have a word with Miss Y/N.”

Your mother turned, waving you over. “I promise not to take up too much of her time,” he added as your mother passed you to return to the bread. “Take as much time as you need!” your mother called, making you stifle a laugh and step out of the house, shutting the door behind you.

“Come,” he said simply, beckoning you to follow him. You did as he asked, following him as villagers walked around, thankfully none of them paying any attention to you as you walked with the young pastor.

As you rounded the corner, Yeosang guided you behind the building, you turned to look at him and noticed he looked very nervous. You’d never seen him like that before and it made you nervous too. 

“Yeosang,” you started as he glanced around, making sure you were alone. “What is going o-”

“The villagers aren’t pleased, Y/N,” he stated plainly. “They’re convinced Hongjoong’s the root cause of the crop and livestock issue. They want his head.” Your stomach sank as Yeosang spoke quickly. “I was at a council meeting and despite my best efforts, they are set on punishing the person they think is the culprit,” he continued.

Your heart raced, palms growing sweaty as you grasped for a solution in your mind. “W-why are you telling me all of this?” you blurted out. Yeosang reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know you have a special connection with him. He’ll listen to you,” he answered.

“You need to warn him. Maybe it can buy him enough time to gather enough supplies to leave before something terrible happens.” Your heart sank into your stomach. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘It’s too soon.’

You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you answered firmly. Yeosang stared at you. “His life is in imminent danger. He must leave,” he explained. You shook your head. “He won’t leave,” you repeated. “Not without me.”

Yeosang stared at you wordlessly as the implications of your words sank in. “I see,” he finally said softly. You looked up at him. There was a look on his face you couldn’t place but he quickly changed expressions before speaking again. “Could you be ready to leave tomorrow night?” he asked softly.

You stared up at him, eyes wide. “What?” you whispered. Yeosang glanced over his shoulder as he heard footsteps and children laughing. He gently grabbed your arm and moved you around to the other side of the shed where you would stay hidden. 

“Can you be ready to leave with him tomorrow?” he asked again. “I don’t know when the villagers are going to put their plan into action but it should be at least one more night before they go after him. If you can both be ready to leave tomorrow, I can sneak you out of the village and then the two of you can continue on.”

You stared at him in awe. He was going to help you? Help Hongjoong? “You would do that?” you asked quietly. “You’d help us leave?” Yeosang nodded. “I know Hongjoong isn’t responsible for these misfortunes. It’s someone else, I just don’t know who,” he answered. “And if Hongjoong won’t leave without you, then I’ll make sure he leaves with you.”

You felt your chest tightened, tears threatening to spill as the urge to hug or even kiss the man before you took hold but you resisted it. “Thank you, Yeosang,” you said softly, taking his hand. “Don’t thank me until you’ve spoken to Hongjoong,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Speak to Hongjoong and then come find me tomorrow morning after the services,” he added.

You nodded and thanked him again.

The walk back was short and you thanked him once more as you entered your home, head swimming as you tried to make sense of everything. Your mother came into view, curiosity filling her features. “Well?” she asked expectantly. “What did the pastor want?” You forced a smile but before you could answer, the front door opened and your father entered the house.

“Oh, father,” you said as he shut the door and turned to face the two of you. “Y/N,” he said simply. “Go to your room,” he continued. “I must speak with your mother.” You knew by the tone of his voice he was not in the mood to be trifled with and so you nodded, thankful for his interruption and made your way to the stairs. Once in your room, you sat against the wall by your door and very carefully opened it, allowing the sound from downstairs to carry.

“There’s nothing to be done,” you heard your father say, his voice full of exhaustion. “The villagers have made up their minds. They want his head.” It didn’t take you long to work out that your father was talking about Hongjoong. “They think he’s the cause of their misfortunes and I’m inclined to believe them. He’s a witch and has made some kind of pact to ruin our village. Several of the town girls have claimed to have been approached by him. What he asks of them I dare not repeat. He’s a disgusting, vile, and wicked creature and he must face the consequences of his actions.”

Silence fell downstairs before your mother spoke. “Y/N speaks highly of him,” she said simply. Another beat of silence followed before your father answered. “And what does she know? She’s but a mere lamb. She doesn’t know his true nature. Or perhaps he’s bewitched her just as he’s ensnared the others. Either way, he must be dealt with.”

“Will they kill him?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, waiting for your father’s response.

“Aye,” he answered and you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. ‘They’re going to kill Hongjoong?!’

You scrambled up as quietly as you could as you heard shuffling. “I will speak to her,” you heard your father say, followed by the sound of his heavy footsteps heading for the stairs. You shut your door carefully and moved to sit on your bed by the window, looking out at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.

There were a series of soft knocks at your door. You turned your head as your door opened, your father peering in. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You nodded silently as he entered and shut the door. He walked over and took a seat beside you, silence falling over the two of you.

“I know you have a fondness for the hermit in the woods,” he started. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, fingers curling into a fist on your thigh. 

“What?” your father asked, turning his head to look in your direction. 

“His name is Hongjoong,” you replied, finally looking up at him. “And he’s not a witch.”

Your father sighed. “I don’t know what he’s been filling your head with,” he started. “But that man is not like us.” You stood up quickly, putting space between you and your father. “He was just raised differently!” you retorted. “He’s a good man! He keeps to himself, doesn’t cause problems, works hard, and just because he doesn’t conform to your standard of living, he must be a witch, right?” you continued, your voice raising.

Your father looked taken aback. You’d never raised your voice at your parents before. “There have been witnesses,” your father finally said, getting to his feet. “Young women who say he approached them, attempted to seduce them,” he continued. “Liars. They’re lying! Hongjoong would never!” you yelled, heat spreading from your face to your chest. You were seething.

“You’re all quick to pin the blame for your misfortunes on someone who you view as an outsider instead of looking inside yourselves and wondering if maybe the problem is your own. One you’ve created. Hongjoong has done nothing wrong! He doesn’t care about the villagers. He doesn’t care whether the village is prosperous or not. He keeps to himself because he knows no one will come to his defense,” you continued.

Your father listened as you unloaded on him. “Well I will advocate for him! Hongjoong is a kind, intelligent, and resourceful man. His soul is pure and he cares about the forest and the animals and plants inside it. He could care about you too if you’d let him. He doesn’t care if we prosper or fail. He cares about the true nature of the soul.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. “You speak as if you truly know him,” he started. You hesitated. “I do know him. I love him,” you blurted out. Your father’s confusion was replaced with anger. “Love?” he scoffed. “What do you know about love?”

You glared at him. “I know love because Hongjoong has shown me what true love is. He loves me, father. That is how I know those women are lying. He loves me and only me.”

Your father shook his head. “Has he poisoned you? Filled your head with his nonsense?” he asked before his eyes widened. “Has he put his filthy hands on my daughter?” he asked, his voice rising in volume. “He’s only shown me love and what it means to love someone as deeply as we love each other.”

You watched as your father’s ire only grew. “He dared to put his hands on my child?!” He turned, starting for the door but you stepped forward.

“I’m not a child!” you shouted. Your father turned to look at you. “I am not a child,” you repeated. “I am a woman and I’m Hongjoong’s lover. The only one he has.”

Your words hung in the air as your father stared at you. He crossed the distance and before you could register what was happening, he struck you across the face, a stinging gracing your cheek just under your eye from where he hit you. It was an almost blinding pain and you brought your hand up quickly to cover the spot, tears welling up in your eyes. “Be quiet, whore,” your father hissed.

“He will pay for his crimes and then you will face punishment for your sins,” your father snapped, boots pounding the wooden floor as he crossed the room and exited, slamming the door behind him. You tried to follow but your attempts to open the door were met with nothing.

The door had been barred from the outside. You slammed your fists against the wood, screaming to be let out. You tried again to open the door but to no avail. You turned to look at the window, the gray clouds had rolled in, darkness starting to settle in. You had to get out. You had to warn Hongjoong.

You moved to the window, opening it and looking outside to find the space behind your house vacant. You looked around for something to help you climb out seeing as it was a long fall down. Your eyes landed on the bed and you moved quickly, tearing the linens from the mattress. You grabbed a blade from your sewing kit and nicked the material before starting to tear it apart into strips, working quickly. 

Once you were certain you had enough, you started to tie them together, making the knots secure before tying one end to the leg of your bed and throwing the rest of your makeshift rope out the window. It reached almost to the ground and you carefully started to climb out the window.

The climb down was clumsy but you managed to get to the ground without making too much sound or drawing the attention of your parents. Once on flat ground, you pulled your hood up and took off, making for the forest, ducking behind homes and other buildings until you reached the tree line. As soon as you were in the cover of the forest, you ran, holding your skirts in your hand as to not trip over them as you leapt over branches and stones.

Your lungs burned and your heart pounded but you didn’t dare stop until you saw Hongjoong’s cabin come into view. Smoke rose from the chimney and light emanated from the windows as you approached, pushing open the wooden gate and hurrying past his garden and the goats that bleated at you.

You reached the door, breathless, and raised a fist, beating erratically at the wood. There was a shuffling from inside before the door opened and Hongjoong looked at you, amused until you stepped forward and collapsed. He managed to catch you before you hit the floor and his amusement turned to concern as he helped you inside, shutting the door.

“What on earth is going on?” he asked as he guided you over to the table, helping you sit down. “They villagers!” you gasped, grabbing his hand as he turned to start making tea. “They want your head. They’re still blaming you for their misfortunes!” Hongjoong scoffed, starting to pull from your grasp.

“This again, Y/N? We just talked about this, I don’t care what they-”

“Damn it, Hongjoong, they’re going to kill you!” you shouted.

He froze, kettle in his hands as he stared at you. “They’ve made up their minds. Yeosang told me to warn you!” you continued, trying to get up but Hongjoong moved over, setting the kettle down and kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands in his. “And you’re certain?” he asked, looking up at you.

You nodded. “I trust Yeosang,” you replied. “He doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He told me to warn you. He said if you can be ready tomorrow night, he’ll help us leave.” Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair before looking up at you. “Wait. Help us leave?” he asked. You nodded. “I told him I know you wouldn’t leave without me. Not after the plans we made, right?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course I’d never leave without you. But… tomorrow night? I don’t know if that’s enough time…” he trailed off, looking around his cabin. “I would have to leave almost everything behind.”

You glanced around. “I could help you pack,” you offered, drawing his attention. Hongjoong’s lips curled into a smile and he took your face in his hands. “What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you need to pack?” You shook your head. “All I have are the clothes I wear. I don’t need anything from my house. All I need is you,” you replied.

Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss. “Okay,” he said softly, getting to his feet. “We’d better get to work,” he added. You removed your cloak and started to help him pack up. He told you which were the most important items as well as what he could spare.

You worked diligently as the sun started to set and packed up what you could. “I’ll have to leave the animals,” he said softly. “Unless there’s space in the cart,” he added, looking around at what you already managed to pack.

You opened your mouth to respond but a sound from outside caught you off guard. You turned to Hongjoong who glanced at you before moving to the window to peer outside. You rushed to his side. “What is it?” you whispered, trying to peer out but he pushed you back.

“You need to hide, now,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the back wall. You watched as he shifted a small shelf, exposing a hidden panel that he then pulled open. “Hongjoong? What are you doing?” you asked as he grabbed your hand.

“I need you to hide, Starlight. Don’t argue with me! Just do as I say, please!” he pleaded as he guided you to crouch. You crawled into the hole in the wall and turned as he knelt down. “I’m going to close this door and put the shelf back. Stay here. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, follow this tunnel to the exit and then I want you to go home,” he explained.

You opened your mouth to protest but he spoke over you. “I want you to go home, do you understand?” he asked. You’d never seen him look so serious before. It scared you.

You nodded silently. He cupped your cheek gently, leaning into the small space. “I love you, Starlight.” Before you could answer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips before he backed up and replaced the panel. You heard the shifting of the shelf and sat in the darkness.

A loud pounding at the front door sounded and you froze as you heard Hongjoong walk calmly over to the door and open it. “Good evening, gentlemen,” you heard him say in a pleasant tone. “How can I help you?”

“Cut the horse shit, witch!” one voice rang out and there were several murmurs of agreement. Hongjoong fell silent before he let out a sigh. “Yeosang,” he said softly and your eyes widened as you heard Yeosang speak. “I am so sorry, Hongjoong,” he started. “I didn’t want it to come to this but I need you to come with us for questioning.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard Hongjoong speak. “Can I at least put the fire out so my home doesn’t catch fire?”

You heard several people protest but they fell silent. “Of course,” Yeosang replied. You watched the back of the panel as the light on the other side was extinguished. You heard footsteps head for the door and then the door shut.

You did as Hongjoong asked, waiting for ten minutes and then an extra five before you finally decided to move, a chill settling in to your hiding place. You followed the tunnel, crawling for what felt like minutes before you finally found a small wooden board blocking your path. It had vines woven into the gaps in the wood. You pushed it aside and pulled yourself out of the hole before replacing it and brushing yourself off.

You looked around and saw you were about thirty meters behind Hongjoong’s cabin, the exit of the tunnel at the base of a tree. You started back towards the cabin, being careful not to make too much sound. You saw and heard nothing so you quickly and quietly made your way back to the village, by passing your home as you headed for the church which is where you were certain they had taken Hongjoong.

Your suspicions were proven true when you arrived and snuck behind the church, avoiding the men who stood out front. You carefully climbed onto one of the posts, holding onto the building for stabilization. You peered through the window where you could see Yeosang, Jonas, and your father speaking with a few other of the villagers.

You lowered your head so as not to be spotted and pressed your ear against the side of the building but couldn’t hear anything other than muffled voices. You carefully climbed down and crawled under the space under the church until you were under where you assumed the group was standing.

“We will hold him here while we question him,” you heard Jonas say though his voice was still muffled. You heard your father speak but were unable to make out what he said. “No,” you heard Jonas reply. “This is a church investigation and he will be held here for the duration of his questioning.”

You heard several voices speak at once but quiet as Yeosang spoke this time. “Trust us to do this. If he is involved, we will find out.”

“And if he’s not involved?” you heard your father ask. “Then he will be released,” Yeosang answered. You heard several voices protest but Jonas interrupted them. “If he be innocent, there be no need to hold him.” You nodded silently to yourself.

As the group started to break up and several footsteps made their way to the door you heard your father speak again. “When you went to his cabin, was she there?” he asked and you assumed he was speaking to Yeosang.

Your suspicion was confirmed when Yeosang answered. “I did not see her inside,” he replied. “I stood in the doorway and I didn’t see any sign of her.”

You started to crawl out, checking the area to make sure it was safe for you to exit. Once you did, you headed back towards the house. Your makeshift rope was still there surprisingly so you carefully and quietly climbed back up into your room and pulled the rope up and shut the window as your door opened.

You turned to find your mother. “Where have you been?” she demanded. You removed your cloak wordlessly and set it aside. “I’m getting ready for bed,” you announced. Your mother moved to grab your arm but you pulled away from her. “I asked you a question, girl,” your mother snapped. “I’m not a girl,” you retorted. “I’m a woman. And I don’t have to tell you where I’ve been but I’m sure you already know.”

Your mother glared at you before letting out a heavy sigh. “Your father is furious. It’s not like you to sneak out like this,” she said, causing you to laugh. “I’ve been sneaking out for years,” you quipped. “I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it.”

Your mother stared at you in shock. As she opened her mouth to reply, the door downstairs opened and she glanced at the door before turning back to you. “Get dressed for bed. I will handle your father.”

She left without another word and you went about your nightly routine. You didn’t hear another peep from downstairs and neither of your parents checked in as you climbed into bed. You tossed and turned, unable to relax until you finally fell into an uneasy slumber.

—————————————————————

The next morning you awoke to the sound of rapid knocking at your door and your eyes opened quickly. As you sat up, the door opened and your mother entered, shutting the door behind her and rushing to your bedside. “Get up,” she whispered, pulling the covers back. “Get dressed.”

You got up and grabbed your clothes from your mother but before you could ask what was going on, there was a heavier knock and the door opened. Your father strode in. You had expected him to look beside himself with anger and while there was still a hint of anger to his expression, there was none in his voice when he spoke.

“Get dressed,” he said sternly. “And meet us downstairs.” He glanced at your mother before looking back at you. “Now,” he snapped and then turned, exiting as your mother rushed after him. Before closing the door, she gave you an apologetic look but what she was sorry for, you didn’t know.

Once you were dressed, you headed down the stairs and upon passing through the door frame into the kitchen, you froze in your tracks, staring at the guest standing in your parents’ home. He looked up to meet your gaze, giving you a warm smile.

“Yeosang,” you said softly as you looked from him to your parents and back. “What’s going o—”

“Get in here and sit down,” your father snapped, cutting you off. You stared at him, anger coursing through your veins at being spoken to like a child. You hesitated, challenging your father’s authority knowing he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you in front of Yeosang. 

“Y/N,” Yeosang said, his soft voice a drastic contrast from your fathers. “Please, have a seat.”

You glanced at your father, glaring at him before moving to sit in the chair. Yeosang moved to sit across from you while your mother sat next to you, your father on the other side. You could feel the awkward atmosphere, thick with tension as the four of you sat in silence.

“Y/N,” Yeosang started, clearing his throat, drawing your gaze. “Your parents have discussed something they feel is important with me and I want you to know that you’re not in trouble,” he explained, with that same, kind smile on his face.

“Oh she’s in trouble,” your father said and you glared at him, biting your tongue to keep from saying something in retaliation. Yeosang chose to ignore what your father said and continued speaking.

“Your parents’ feel that it’s due time for you to marry,” Yeosang said, skipping straight to the point. You felt your heart skid to a stop. ‘Marriage?’ You turned your head to look at your mother who refused to meet your eye. You didn’t dare look at your father, afraid it might set you off.

“Since evidence of your relationship with Hongjoong—” 

“Don’t say that name in my home!” your father hissed, almost arching his back like a barn cat in the face of fear. It made you feel a little more relieved that your father, and perhaps the whole village, were still scared of Hongjoong. Not that they had anything to fear. Hongjoong would never do anything to cause harm to another soul if it was not warranted.

Again, Yeosang chose to ignore your father, convincing you that he was, indeed, a saint.

“Since it has come to light, your options for marriage are limited,” he continued. You held back the urge to laugh but managed to keep it down. You were planning to marry Hongjoong. And nothing, not even being held for questioning for crimes he did not commit, would stop that.

“It has been proposed—”

“No,” you said, without hearing the rest. You weren’t sure what was going to be said and part of you feared that Nicolas was the only willing soul and you would rather die than marry him. “No?” Yeosang asked, curiously. “You haven’t even heard all of my proposal.”

You shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “I’m already promised to someone.”

Silence fell over the table before your father spoke. “You insolent, ungrateful, wench!”

You turned to look at him and caught the full strike of the back of his hand. The blow caught you off guard, knocking you out of your seat. Your mother let out a cry and got up, moving to try and help you up. “We have a guest!” she shrieked as your father got up, intent on advancing on you.

Before he could land another blow, Yeosang was standing in front of him.

“If you lay one more hand on her, I will have you arrested for assault,” he said, his voice even and calm. Your father took several deep breaths before glaring down at you. “I’ve had enough of your disobedience, girl!” he shouted.

“We’ve raised you, clothed you, fed you, and this is how you repay us? By sneaking around with some backwoods witch?! Parading around like a whore?!”

“That’s enough!” Yeosang said, raising his voice above your father’s, shocking both your parents and yourself. You’d never once heard Yeosang raise his voice in anger. “Do you think insulting her is going to make her listen to you?”

“Even if he was as sweet as pie, I still wouldn’t listen to him,” you hissed, raising your hand to your swollen cheek which was now tender to the touch, making you wince. Yeosang turned to look at you, a pleading look in his eyes. He turned back to your father. “You’ve made your point,” he added.

“Yelling at, insulting, and beating your daughter won’t make her behave the way you want her to. She’s an adult. You can’t treat her like this,” he continued. Your father looked downright angry at Yeosang now. “How dare you tell me what to do in my own home!” he spat.

“Would you like my help or not?” Yeosang asked, raising his voice over your father’s once more. “If you do, I suggest you stop or I will walk out that door right now,” he added, pointing towards the front door. That seemed to shut your father up and he smashed his lips together, murmuring in anger before he moved to sit back down.

Yeosang turned and knelt down, offering his hand. “Are you all right?” he whispered, eyes falling to your cheek. You nodded wordlessly as your mother helped you up. “Just let me handle this, okay?” he added in an undertone. “You trust me, right?”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his for a moment before you nodded. “I trust you.”

You sat back down and Yeosang returned to his seat across from you.

“As I was saying,” he started. “Your options for marriage are limited as the rumors have already spread.”

“Not even Nicolas wants you,” your father interjected and you watched as Yeosang glared at your father. “One more remark like that and I will rescind my offer,” Yeosang said and your father fell silent once more, hopefully for the last time. ‘Offer?’

“In the face of your limited options, I’ve come to offer a solution,” Yeosang explained, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table as he looked at you.

With bated breath, you waited for him to explain his solution.

“I’ve offered to marry you.”

The silence that fell over the table rang in your ears as you processed his words. ‘Marry… Yeosang? Surely, he can’t be serious. He must be jesting!’

Your mother nudged you, stirring you out of your train of thoughts. “M-marry you?” you stammered, pure shock clouding your mind. A million thoughts raced through your mind but there was only one that mattered. ‘What about Hongjoong?’

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t marry you.”

“You will marry him,” your father snapped. “He is the only option to save your reputation. Our reputation.” Yeosang, clearly annoyed by your father’s interruption, turned to your mother, a polite smile on his face and spoke in the sweetest voice possible.

“Could I speak to Y/N, please? Alone.”

Your mother’s eyes widened and she nodded wordlessly, getting up from her seat and moving to where your father sat. She gently pushed him until he got up and the two of them went into the other room where you could hear your father grumbling under his breath as they climbed the stairs.

Once you were alone, you turned back to Yeosang. “What are you doing?” you hissed as he got up, moving to take your father’s seat and taking your hand. “Please,” he said softly. “I need you to play along and trust me. I know you and Hongjoong made promises to marry each other and I fully intend to prolong the marriage as much as possible until his name is cleared and you can leave the village together,” he explained. “I’m doing this to protect you.”

You shook your head. “And if they never clear his name? What then? You can’t put it off forever.”

Yeosang let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his dark locks. “I’ll figure out a secondary plan but I need you to trust me. I’m working to clear his name and if I can’t get it cleared, I will figure out a way to get you two out of here so you can be together. Please, just trust me, okay?”

You stared at him for a few moments before sighing and nodding. “Okay,” you answered. “I’ll play along for now.” Yeosang gave your hand a gentle squeeze before getting up and moving back to his seat. “Is the thought of marrying me really that distasteful?” he asked in a playful tone. You snorted, shaking your head as you heard your parents heading back down the stairs.

“Not at all,” you answered, looking up at him. “And maybe under other circumstances, I’d jump at the chance but—”

“You love Hongjoong. I understand.”

When your parents returned, your mother took her seat beside you, your father back in his place. You cleared your throat before speaking. “We’ve spoken,” you answered, looking at Yeosang before turning to look at your mother. “And I’ve agreed.”

The look of relief that washed over your mother’s face brought a smile to your face. Even if it was a lie, at least she could live without the worry for now.

When you disappeared into the night with Hongjoong, however, she could worry then.

Your parents started the necessary procedures for Yeosang to begin courting you which gave you two the excuse to spend time one on one where he would update you on Hongjoong’s case. The good news, there was no evidence to suggest Hongjoong was responsible. The bad news, the villagers did not seem appeased by this as their misfortunes continued.

“Do you think someone else is causing the problems?” you asked one night while lying in bed, a bundling board separating you. “I think that’s possible,” Yeosang whispered. “Now that I look at it from a different perspective, I can see how a witch might be involved but I know it’s not Hongjoong.”

You turned onto your side, peering over the board at Yeosang. “Let’s say for argument’s sake, there is a witch cursing the village,” you started, drawing his attention and he turned his head to look at you, a smile spreading over his face before he stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, brows furrowing as he tried to force his laughter to subside. “Lay back,” he said, turning onto his side. You did as he asked and lay back down. You heard him shift on the other side of the board. “Look at me,” he whispered and you glanced up, seeing just his eyes peering down at you.

“This is what you looked like,” he added, another wave of quiet laughter coursing through him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from you as you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up to meet him face to face.

“Okay, I get it now,” you said, your giggles subsiding. “But I’m serious. Let’s say for argument’s sake there is a witch. Who do you think it is?” Yeosang’s laughter also subsided and he regarded you with a serious look. “You’re asking me to accuse someone?” he asked.

“Hypothetically,” you added. Yeosang fell silent before lying back against the mattress. “I do not actually know,” he answered. “I do not think I can safely guess.” You let out a groan and fell back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillow softly.

“You wanna know who I think it is?” you asked. You heard him chuckle. “I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway,” he answered.

“I think it’s the least suspicious person,” you answered. “The least likely candidate. Someone you would never even think to accuse.”

Silence fell over you two for a beat before you heard the sheets rustle and Yeosang’s eyes appeared over the board once more. “You think the witch is Ms. Goode?” A smirk crossed your face. “So you would guess her?” you asked. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “Well, who would you guess, then?”

You sat up, turning to look at him, the same smirk on your face as you leaned in. “You.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened. “Me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded as you leaned back. “But it wouldn’t explain why you’re so adamant on helping Hongjoong.” you continued. “Perhaps it’s Jonas!” you whispered. Yeosang sat up, fixing you with a stern look.

“This is what happens when people start throwing around accusations,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “It’s only hypothetical, Yeosang. I don’t actually think it’s Jonas.”

—————————————————————

Yeosang continued to keep you informed of the status of the investigation and to postpone the wedding as long as possible. You were getting more and more anxious as you waited for Hongjoong to be cleared. 

You had been confined to the house, unless Yeosang or your mother were accompanying you. It was picking at your sanity and you were slowly losing grip on reality. You had spent all day inside, only being let out to tend to your garden and use the outhouse.

As you were finishing up dinner, your father got up and cleared his throat. “I have to call a meeting,” he announced. You looked up at him and then to your mother. She said nothing as your father stepped away from the table and headed for the door.

Once it shut, you turned to your mother. “Meeting? What about?” you asked. Your mother shook her head as she cleared away your father’s bowl and cup. “Are you finished?” she asked to which you shook your head.

“Mother, what meeting?” you asked. Your mother set the bowl down, a little harder than usual and turned around to meet your gaze. “I did not ask because I do not need to know. And neither do you. Finish your dinner and go about your chores.”

You watched as she turned away and resisted the urge to groan as you turned your gaze down to your bowl and pushed bits of potato around. After a few minutes of this, mind reeling with what your father could possibly be calling a meeting for, you finally stood up, grabbing the bowl and moving to clear your place.

Your mother took the bowl from you without a word and you went about the rest of your chores. As you were wiping down the table, a knock rang out. Your mother wiped her hands and made her way through the kitchen, disappearing into the living room. A moment later you heard the front door open.

“Pastor Kang? Is everything alright?” you heard your mother ask and looked up, trying to peer through the doorway into the vestibule. “Sorry for the late call, Ms. Y/L/N but I was wondering if I could borrow Y/N for a moment?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, hope building in your chest that you might get a moment to step outside, away from the watchful eye of your mother. “Her father just left,” you heard your mother say, sounding apologetic. “She really shouldn’t be going outside.”

“I understand,” you heard Yeosang reply and were about to protest, even though it wouldn’t help your case in the slightest, when you heard him add on. “It would just be for a short while. I’ll have her back before her father even leaves the meeting hall. I promise.”

You could hear your mother sigh and quickly went back to work as footsteps started back towards the kitchen, stopping at the door. “Y/N,” your mother called and you turned to look back at her. “Pastor Kang wants to see you,” she continued. You set the rag in your hand down and wiped your hands before heading for the door.

Your mother caught you, firmly grabbing your arm. “Be sure to be back before your father gets home. Else he will really be mad and you won’t be able to leave until after you are married.” You nodded wordlessly and your mother let go, turning to watch as you walked over to where Yeosang waited. You stepped out of the door and shut it behind you.

“To what do I owe—”

“Hurry,” Yeosang said, taking you by the elbow gently. “We don’t have much time. If I’m to have you back before your father gets home, we’re going to have to make haste.” He started to guide you away from the house and behind the buildings so as not to be seen.

“What? Make haste?” you asked as you grabbed your skirt in your hand and lifted it off the ground to be able to move more freely without risk of tripping over the hem. “With all the men in the meeting, the church is empty,” Yeosang said as you hurried to keep pace.

“What?” you asked, halting in place. Yeosang noticed you weren’t following and turned around to return to your side. “We cannot stop!” he urged, placing a hand on your back. “We must hurry!” He guided you along behind the houses until you reached the church.

Yeosang checked to make sure the coast was clear and led you inside.

You’d never been inside the church at night or when it was this empty before. There was an unsettling and eerie atmosphere about it. The rafters were completely shrouded in darkness and anything could be lurking up there, hiding in the blackness.

“This way,” Yeosang said, pulling you out of your dark thoughts. He led you further into the church towards a door that led to a room off to the side. “I’ve never been back here,” you whispered to him. “There are rooms back here,” he explained, showing you the narrow corridor. “When we have visiting clergy, they stay here,” he added.

Yeosang led you down the hall to the room at the end and unlocked it with a key he produced. “He’s in here,” Yeosang explained. “We keep him locked back here because it’s safer than what the villagers had suggested. Only Jonas and I have a key to get back here.”

Once the door was unlocked, Yeosang called out. “Hongjoong, it’s just me, Yeosang. I have a visitor with me.” He turned to look at you and nodded before turning the knob and pushing open the door. 

Inside was a modest sized room with a single bed, bedside table, and a small wardrobe. A half melted candle sat on the bedside table along with an empty plate and a cup. Sitting on the bed, back against the wall was Hongjoong. He looked up and the relief that passed over his face was the same that you felt upon seeing him.

You rushed into the room, nearly tripping over your skirt as you climbed onto the bed and threw your arms around him. Hongjoong caught you, pulling you tightly against him as you sobbed into his shoulder. “Shh Starlight,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he gently rocked you. “It’s alright.”

You heard Yeosang clear his throat from the doorway and turned to look at him. “I can only give you a few minutes,” he explained. “I will go keep watch and come get you when it’s time to go,” he added. You nodded and he shut the door, his footsteps receding.

You turned back to Hongjoong. He had a partially healed cut on his bottom lip and a bruised eye. You took his face gently in your hands. “What have they done to you?” you whispered. He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, pulling your hands away and placing a kiss on the back of each one.

“What about you?” he asked, looking up at you. “Yeosang told me your parents are keeping you confined in the house?” he asked. You nodded. “They’re trying to force me to marry Yeosang,” you mumbled, settling in his lap.

He reached up, taking your chin in his fingers, and tilted your head back. “Maybe you should,” he said softly. You knocked his hand away and sat up straighter, to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even saying?” you asked, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I’m thinking logically Starlight,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know Yeosang is advocating for me but let’s not kid ourselves. The villagers are intent on seeing that I hang for this. They aren’t giving in or listening to reason,” he continued to explain. “I think if you marry Yeosang, it will protect you from their wrath should things go awry.”

You shook your head, almost as if you were shaking his words out of your head. “What about us? What about our future?” you asked, your voice soft. Hongjoong smiled a solemn smile, cupping your cheek. “It was a nice dream, Starlight,” he started. “But I think at this point, that’s all it will ever be: a dream.”

You looked away, blinking back the tears that had been threatening to spill since you entered the room. “Look at me,” Hongjoong said softly. At first, you ignored his request but when he asked again, you couldn’t hold back. You turned to meet his gaze.

“I love you so much,” he said softly, cupping your face and wiping away a few of the stray tears that actually managed to spill. “More than anything, Starlight. More than my own life,” he continued. “And you know nothing will ever change that but you need to marry Yeosang.”

You pulled away from him, moving to get up only for him to gently grab your wrist and prevent you from going any further. “Please, Starlight,” he pleaded. “If not for your own sake, do it for me? So when I leave this world, I know you’ll be okay—”

You pulled your wrist from his grip. “Stop talking like that!” you snapped. “Stop talking like you’re going to die!” You started to walk towards the door. “If you keep talking like that, I will walk out of here and—”

“And what?” Hongjoong interjected, getting up from the bed. “And never come back?” he asked. You turned to look at him, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “Don’t threaten me, Y/N. That is the cruelest thing you could do to me,” he said as he walked over and took your face in his hands. “You’re not that cruel, Starlight.”

A small sob escaped you, prompting Hongjoong to pull you against him and wrap his arms around you, allowing you to cry against his chest. “I’m only thinking of you, Starlight. If I am convicted of this, I don’t want to take you with me.”

“I do,” you said, your voice cracking. “I don’t want to live without you!”

Hongjoong was about to respond but a soft knock interrupted the both of you. The door cracked open and Yeosang peered in. “I’m sorry,” he started. “But we have to go.” You clung tighter to Hongjoong, pressing your face into his shirt.

“It’s alright, Starlight,” Hongjoong whispered. “Promise me we’re going to leave,” you whispered. “Like we planned. That this is all going to blow over and we’re going to leave like we planned and build a cabin by the sea,” you continued. Hongjoong glanced past you to where Yeosang stood before he finally returned his gaze to you.

“I promise, Starlight.”

You pulled him into a tight hug before he whispered in your ear. “If something happens to me, I need you to find my box and hide it.” You pulled back to look at him, confusion on your face. “What?” you asked softly. “In the crawlspace, the one you hid in, there’s a box buried there. If anything happens to me, I want you to go into the crawlspace, dig it up and take it deep into the woods where no one will ever find it and bury it. Promise me, Y/N.”

“But—” 

“And whatever you do, do not open it. You understand me?”

“Hongjoong, I—”

“Promise me, Y/N!” he cut you off. You stared back at him before nodding slowly. “I promise,” you said softly. Hongjoong pulled you into a quick kiss before Yeosang stepped forward to break your reunion apart.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Yeosang said, gently pulling you towards the door. “We can’t stay here. The meeting will be ending at any moment.” You glanced at him quickly before looking back at Hongjoong. “Wait,” you said, pulling from his grip and rushing back to Hongjoong, pulling him into a kiss.

Hongjoong kissed you back with as much passion as you threw into it. After a moment, he pulled back, cupping your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “And I love you, Starlight,” he responded. “I’ll always love you.”

Yeosang urged you to move and reluctantly, you pulled away from Hongjoong and allowed the pastor to guide you out of the room, turning to watch as he shut the door, Hongjoong disappearing from sight as he locked the door behind him. He slipped the key into his pocket and guided you back down the hall and into the main room.

“I’m working on securing supplies and a carriage,” Yeosang explained as he led you out of the church and started the trek back to your house. “If I’m able to secure them, I will send you a message when you and Hongjoong will leave,” he continued. “You must be ready to go as soon as I give you that message, am I clear?” he asked.

You nodded wordlessly, staring at the ground as you walked. You felt his hand grab your arm gently and turn you to face him. “Do you understand?” he asked, tipping your head back and forcing you to look at him. “You have to be ready to go before then. Whatever important items you need must be packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded again. “Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I understand, Yeosang.” The two of you stared at one another for a moment longer before Yeosang let go, gesturing in the direction of your house. “Let’s go,” he said softly.

The rest of the walk was made in silence, the cool night air full of the sounds of crickets, punctuated by the occasional hooting of an owl. Once you reached the door, Yeosang stopped you, taking your hand gently.

“Regardless of if the villagers accept Hongjoong’s innocence or not,” he started, his voice low. “I give you my word that I will get you and Hongjoong out of here. That is a promise.” You forced a smile, thanking him as you reached for the doorknob.

Yeosang stopped you once more. “Do not lose hope, Y/N.” 

Once you were back inside, your mother came to check on you and you did your best to convince her you were fine with a fake smile and short but enthusiastic replies but in reality, all you felt was exhausted and more full of despair than you had before visiting Hongjoong.

You asked to be excused early and went up to your room, letting out a sigh as you shut the door and leaned against it. You looked around your room, eyes taking in everything and started over towards the small sewing table where your handicrafts sat, some half finished.

Your fingertips brushed over the embroidery as you looked around at it all. Yeosang’s voice came into your mind. ‘... at a moment’s notice.’ You looked over to your wardrobe, a newfound determination in your chest as you walked over and opened the door.

You rifled through the clothes and found what you were looking for. A linen bag. You packed away one dress and one nightgown, figuring you could always make more clothes once you and Hongjoong got to your destination.

You grabbed a few other sentimental items to pack into the bag. Once you were sure you had everything you wanted or needed, you pulled the drawstrings closed and hid the bag in the back of your wardrobe. You then undressed and pulled on your nightgown as you heard the door downstairs open.

You quickly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. You could hear your parents downstairs talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Rolling onto your side to face the wall, your back to the door, was a good move because a couple moments later, the door opened slowly.

You didn’t move, pretending to be asleep until the door shut quietly with a click. You lay there, waiting for sleep to come as you listened to your parents move around the house until they both entered their bedroom and eventually it fell quiet.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at the wall but eventually sleep finally took you and you passed into a deep slumber without dreams.

Hours had passed since you left and Hongjoong had picked up the book Yeosang had given him a couple days ago. He had been reading it slowly, to make it last longer not knowing if or when he might get another.

When Yeosang returned, he had brought Hongjoong another candle before retiring to his home for the evening. Hongjoong had lost track of time since then but the current candle was almost completely used up by the time he reached the next chapter of his book.

He had just turned the page when there was a light knock at his door. He looked up as the door opened. He had expected it to be Yeosang but was surprised when he saw that it was Jonas instead. The elder minister almost never visited him unless to question him.

Hongjoong watched as Jonas closed the door and turned to face him, looking around the room. His eyes landed on the book in Hongjoong’s hands. “I see Pastor Kang is keeping you entertained,” he said simply. Hongjoong nodded silently, waiting for the old man to tell him why he’s visiting him.

“Did you have a visitor?” Jonas asked and Hongjoong’s heart sank. ‘Shit.’ Hongjoong said nothing as he watched Jonas who smiled. “I’m not mad,” he said. “It was nice of Yeosang to bring Miss Y/N to come see you.”

Hongjoong closed his book, setting it aside on the bed and shifted to sit up, narrowing his eyes at Jonas. “How did you—?”

“Know?” Jonas asked, finishing his sentence. “This is my church,” Jonas explained. “You really think I wouldn’t know the comings and goings of my own church?” he asked. “I thought you were smarter than that,” Jonas added. “You strike me as a smart man, Hongjoong,” Jonas continued. “Well, not extremely smart,” he added with a chuckle.

“After all, a witch ought to know better.”

Hongjoong watched him carefully. “Know better? Than what?”

“Than to cross an even more powerful witch,” Jonas replied. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously. “So you know who it is, then?” Hongjoong asked. Jonas let out a chuckle. “Do I know who it is?” he asked, sounding highly amused.

Hongjoong was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to know why the old man was in his room and why they were even having this conversation. “Will you just get to the point?” Hongjoong asked, sounding as every bit annoyed as he felt.

“The point?” Jonas asked, his smile falling. “Of course.”

“Have you been paying any attention to the village?” Jonas asked, suddenly changing the subject again. Hongjoong shook his head. “Why would I?” he asked. Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “Of course,” he said. “Why would a reclusive witch who lives in the woods pay any attention to his only neighbors who live in the village just outside the forest?”

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m serious, old man,” he growled. “Just get to the point already! I grow tired of this conversation.”

“You really aren’t as observant or as powerful as I thought,” Jonas said with an amused hint to his voice.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked softly. “Aren’t witches supposed to be able to sense these things? Know when another witch is around?” Jonas asked. Hongjoong stared back at him. “Sometimes,” Hongjoong answered. “You have to actually look for it though.”

Jonas nodded, keeping his eyes on Hongjoong. “Well, look for it,” Jonas encouraged. Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously again. ‘Why is he so adamant?’ he wondered to himself. Jonas said nothing else, waiting for Hongjoong to do something.

Reluctantly, Hongjoong let out a sigh and closed his eyes, channeling his own power and testing the area around him, feeling for a change in the air. A shock went up his spine and his eyes snapped open, meeting the dark gaze of Jonas.

“You?” Hongjoong whispered, eyes widening.

“Ah, finally,” Jonas said with a chuckle. “See? I knew you were a smart man.” Jonas started for the door. Hongjoong moved to get to his feet but Jonas turned to face him, eyes completely blacked out. A chill swept over Hongjoong and he was unable to move. It wasn’t due to fear. It was Jonas’ doing. 

“You son of a—” Hongjoong choked out but Jonas waved his hand, forcing Hongjoong’s mouth shut. “Be silent,” Jonas hissed. “I simply wanted you to know who was responsible for your downfall.” He turned to open the door and Hongjoong managed to break some of the control Jonas had over his body.

“Why?”

Jonas stopped, opening the door and peering into the room. “Why?” Jonas asked, mimicking Hongjoong’s question. “Because you were there,” Jonas answered. “That’s all you need to know. The villagers will find you guilty and you will die for it. The why does not matter. Not to you anyway.”

The door shut and Hongjoong finally regained control over his body. He rushed to the door and tried pulling at the knob but it wouldn’t budge. He pounded on the door. “Come back here you son of a bitch!” Hongjoong yelled into the wood.

After trying and failing to open the door, he finally returned to the bed to sit down, covering his face with his hands. He sighed and lifted his head to stare at the wall across from him. He had to get out of this room somehow.

He glanced around at the windowless box he was confined in.

‘But how?’

A few days passed since you’d visited Hongjoong and they were no closer to releasing him. You tried to keep up appearances, pretending to be excited for your wedding to Yeosang but each day that passed without word from your fake betrothed felt like another knife in the chest.

He hadn’t been by since sneaking you out and you were starting to lose hope again.

Your father found out about Yeosang’s visit and he had grown angry that your mother had let you leave without her. Despite agreeing to let you marry Yeosang, he was growing distrustful of the young pastor. Yeosang kept delaying the wedding, citing the case with Hongjoong and that he wants it to be resolved before marrying you.

He also didn’t seem to understand why Yeosang kept advocating for the release of Hongjoong and his claims of the latter’s innocence. The villagers were growing more and more restless, wanting some form of action to be done.

Many were demanding Hongjoong be dealt with swiftly so the curse on the village would end but at every turn, Yeosang was fighting them, demanding patience so justice could be done correctly.

Five days after your visit to Hongjoong, action came but not in the way the village or you expected.

After dinner, you were made to go to bed early and tossed and turned long after your parents went to their room. You had received new blankets for your bed after tearing apart the old ones and had them pulled up to your chin as you turned over onto your side again.

You let out a groan as the urge to urinate hit you and you begrudgingly sat up, pulling your boots on without tying the laces and got out of bed, grabbing your cloak. You carefully opened the door and headed downstairs as you put your cloak on.

Your parents initially had you locked in your room at night but when you mentioned having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and would have to pound on your door until one of them got up to let you out, they stopped locking it so they could get their sleep at night.

Outside was mostly quiet, the sound of crickets filled the air punctuated by the occasional owl hoot. You did your business, letting out a sigh as you sat on the bowl. Sleep had been avoiding you for the last couple days as you spent most nights tossing and turning.

Once you finished your business, you opened the door and stepped out, shutting it softly before turning to head back to the door. As you reached it, you felt a hand cover your mouth and an arm wrap around you, pulling you away from the door and into the shadow of your house. You kicked and struggled against your would-be attacker.

“Y/N it’s me!” a familiar voice hissed. They turned you and removed their hand from your mouth. “Yeosang?!” you whispered. “What the h—”

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, keeping his voice down. “I tried waving at you but you didn’t see me,” he explained. You placed a hand over your heart and tried to calm your breathing. “What are you doing out here?” you finally asked.

Yeosang straightened up. “I have been waiting outside your house for hours, waiting for you to come out,” he explained. “What? Why?” you whispered. “To give you this,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a folded piece of paper into your palm.

“I don’t have much time. I have to get back,” he said, glancing around. “Wait!” you said, grabbing his arm. “How is Hongjoong?” you asked. Yeosang sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, truthfully. My key has disappeared and Jonas won’t let me in to see him. He keeps telling me Hongjoong is fine but for some reason…” he trailed off, looking worried.

“You don’t think Jonas has done something to him?” you asked. Yeosang shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. Anyway, it won’t stop anything. I’ll just have to pick the lock and get in there.” You stared at Yeosang as he mumbled to himself before he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Go inside. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he urged, gently pushing you towards your door. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Before you could say anything, he turned and headed in the direction of his home, disappearing into the darkness. You contemplated opening the note but decided against it and went back inside, heading up to your room and shutting the door.

Once inside, you removed your cloak and boots and sat on your bed, unfolding the piece of paper to read in the low light of your candle. Written on it in Yeosang’s hastily scribbled handwriting were four simple words.

The next day you went about your chores like normal, tending to the garden, getting eggs, helping your mother around the house. You stayed silent for the most part, only speaking when spoken to, something your mother noticed to be odd.

When she asked about it, you made up an excuse that you were just tired. Your mother fussed, checking for any sign of illness and you reassured her you were fine and that you were having a hard time sleeping at night. “Lots of tossing and turning,” you simply said.

Your father spent most of the day out of the house, helping one of the neighbors with a new pig shed after the last one had been partially destroyed by something in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, the pigs were fine.

You had hoped to see Yeosang at any point that day but you knew he was probably busy arranging yours and Hongjoong’s escape for that night. An excitement had been bubbling up inside you after reading the note last night. It wasn’t until that morning that it hit you. Soon you would be leaving the village and your old life behind and beginning a new one with Hongjoong.

Things were starting to look up.

At dinner, you sat and ate quietly while your mother and father spoke. He went on about the pig shed and the other incidents that had been happening. The villagers, your parents included, still seemed to believe Hongjoong was responsible despite him being confined to the church.

As you were finishing your meal, your exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. “Y/N?” your mother asked as you almost fell asleep at the table.

“I’m all right,” you said softly. “I’m just really tired.”

Your father exchanged glances with your mother. “You haven’t been sneaking out at night, have you?” he asked sternly. You shook your head. “No,” you answered truthfully. “I just haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.”

Your father returned his attention to his meal. “Perhaps Yeosang should stop delaying and make good on his promise to marry you. Maybe spending the night in his bed will help you sleep better.” Your mother chastised him and you ignored his words.

“M-may I be ‘scused?” you asked, slurring your words. Your mother nodded, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Of course dear,” she answered. “I’ll take care of your plate. You go on up to bed.”

You struggled to get up, your limbs feeling heavy and a weakness taking over your body. Your mother got up from her seat and helped guide you to the stairs and after a long struggle to climb them, she finally got you into your room where you collapsed onto the bed.

Your mother exited the room, shutting the door carefully and returned downstairs where your father sat. “I think I used too much,” your mother admitted as she looked at your cup. “Just keep an eye on her throughout the night,” he answered as he finished his food.

“I’m off to meet with the others,” he started, getting to his feet. Your mother looked at him apprehensively. “Is this really necessary?” she asked as your father grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “Yes,” he answered.

“The pastors aren’t doing anything about it,” he explained. “It’s up to us to keep our community safe from dangers. I will be back once it is done.”

Your mother watched as your father headed for the door and exited.

Yeosang was sitting by the window, reading from his book, when he heard the sound of shouting. Looking up he glanced out the window and saw a group of men walking towards the front steps of the church. He set the book down and got up, grabbing his coat, and headed for the door.

Once outside, he approached the men quickly.

“Good evening gentlemen,” he said politely. “How can I help you?”

“We’ve no time for your pleasantries,” a man Yeosang recognized to be Abel, said. “We’ve come to enact justice.” There were several murmurs of agreement as Yeosang looked around the group. His eyes landed on your father and a frown grew on his face.

“Y/F/N, what is this about?” he asked. Your father narrowed his eyes. “The villagers are restless, Pastor Kang. Uneasy even. They know the witch is being held in the church, our place of worship. They feel it is being tainted with its presence and that it must answer for crimes committed against our community. We must purge the village of its curses and its filth!”

The others agreed loudly and Yeosang stepped closer. “Is that really why you’re here?” he asked. “Or is it perhaps for another reason? A more… personal one?” A brief look of fear crossed your father’s face before being replaced with anger.

“Step aside, Pastor, and let us handle the heretic.”

Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he replied. “We have not concluded our investigation.”

“Damn your investigation!” another man shouted. “We’re tired of waiting! You have the culprit inside the church! He’s the witch!” Yeosang held his hands up in an attempt to calm the small mob. “Gentlemen, please! Let’s not act rashly.”

His pleas went unheard as the men grew more and more restless. “I’m sorry, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “But you can’t stop us. We’re here to serve justice.”

“This isn’t justice!” Yeosang said loudly. “You’re condemning an innocent man to a painful death!” The men ignored him and pushed past, climbing the steps and pushing open the doors to the church with Yeosang in tow.

“Stop! You cannot do this!”

“Go get him, Pastor Kang,” your father said. “We will wait.” Yeosang hesitated. “I do not have a key,” Yeosang responded. One of the men, who Yeosang recognized as Gideon, pushed him roughly, almost knocking Yeosang to the floor. “Liar!” he spat. Your father stepped in, placing a hand on Gideon’s chest. “Calm yourself, Gideon,” he said.

“He’s protecting the witch!” Gideon spat, pointing at Yeosang. “He should be punished, too!” Your father pushed Gideon back. “Watch your words, Gideon! He is a man of the cloth!” That seemed to snap Gideon out of his momentary lapse in judgment. He turned to Yeosang and bowed his head. “My apologies, Pastor,” he said softly.

“I am not lying,” Yeosang explained. “My key has disappeared.” The men grumbled in annoyance. “What is all this noise?” a voice called from the podium. The men and Yeosang turned to find Jonas standing there. “Sorry for the intrusion, Pastor,” your father started. “We’ve come for Hongjoong.”

Jonas looked from the men to Yeosang. “We just want to talk to him,” Abel said. Yeosang turned to glare at him for lying in a holy place. “Talk? By all means, let them talk to him, Pastor Kang,” Jonas said. Yeosang turned to him.

“I do not have a key,” Yeosang answered. “Mine seems to have been misplaced.”

Jonas reached into his own pocket and produced the key. “Use mine,” he said. Yeosang stared at him with a pleading look. “These men are not here to talk to him,” Yeosang explained. “They’ve come to enact what they feel is justice upon a man we are not even certain is guilty!”

Jonas looked from Yeosang to the men who fell silent. “I see,” Jonas said softly. “In that case…” Jonas said, trailing off as he set the key on the podium. Yeosang’s brow furrowed in confusion but before he could speak, something hard hit the back of his head, white hot pain bursting throughout. He cried out in pain, stars blinding his vision as he fell to his knees.

There was a mad dash, shuffling of feet. He barely heard the sound of your father thanking Jonas before his vision went dark and he slumped to the floor, blacking out.

Hongjoong heard a commotion coming from the main room of the church and looked up as a cry of pain rang out, sounding suspiciously like Yeosang. There was a stampeding of heavy footfalls before he heard the lock to his door being unlocked and the door flew open with a loud bang.

His eyes widened as several of the men of the village entered his room and moved towards him. “What is going on?” Hongjoong demanded as they grabbed him. “Be silent, witch!” one of the men said before stuffing a piece of cloth in Hongjoong’s mouth.

“We’ve come to deliver vengeance and rid our village of your filth!”

“Death to the witch!”

The men dragged him from the bed and started pulling him through the door where Hongjoong was met by the smug expression of your father. ‘Of course.’

“Take him to the tree,” your father stated plainly. Hongjoong tried to pull away but the men had a strong hold on him and dragged him down the hall and into the chapel. Hongjoong noticed Yeosang passed out on the floor before looking up towards the podium where Jonas stood.

Hongjoong tried to fight against the hold the men had on him, screaming against his gag, but it was no use, the men dragged him from the church, despite his kicking and struggling against them. The last thing he saw before being dragged out of the church was the smug expression of Jonas, his eyes blacked out and then the doors swung shut.

Yeosang woke up, his head pounding as he tried to get up. He managed to push himself up to his knees and reached up to the spot where he’d been struck which was tender to the touch. He pulled his hand back, thankful to see he was not bleeding.

He looked around the empty room before he came to his senses.

“Hongjoong!”

He got up, stumbling for a moment. He used the wall as support as he made his way down the hall to the room at the end where he found an empty bed. “No,” he murmured, stumbling back into the chapel and over to the door, throwing it open and ambling down the steps. 

As he reached the ground, a fresh wave of pain coursed through him, strong enough to make him retch. He managed to get a grip on himself and made his way through the village, using what he could to keep himself upright and on his feet.

A flash of lightning illuminated the village briefly, followed by a deep rumble of thunder in the distance. A storm was coming.

Maybe if he hurried, he would be able to stop them.

Consciousness came to you slowly. You woke with a heavy head and your limbs still heavy from sleep. You tried to sit up but found you could barely move. This was not the usual grogginess that followed your sleep.

You forced your eyes open, your vision slowly coming back as the ceiling of your room came into view. You blinked a few times, trying to force the sleepiness from your eyes. As the rafters merged, you tried to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

You turned to look out the window and noticed it was pitch black outside. “How long have I been asleep?” you mumbled. You tried to get up on wobbly legs and stumbled towards the door. You stopped by the wardrobe and opened it, grabbing the sack you’d packed.

You didn’t bother being quiet as you wrenched the door open, a loud clap of thunder sounding in the distance. You descended the steps as quickly as you could and stopped, catching sight of your mother sitting in her rocking chair as she mended one of your father’s coats. She looked up, taking sight of the bag in your hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, looking up at you. Taking a deep breath and tightening your grip on the bag you finally put your foot down. “I’m leaving,” you answered. Your mother stared at you for a moment before going back to her mending. “Nonsense,” she replied. “You’re getting married soon. You can’t leave.”

You stared at her incredulously. “What?” you whispered. “You’re not leaving. That’s final.”

You scoffed and started for the door. “Y/N Y/L/N!” your mother shouted and you turned to face her. “I’m an adult,” you snapped. “You may be my mother but you cannot hold me here against my will. I am leaving!”

The front door opened behind you and your father appeared, clothes covered in dirt. You looked at him, taking in his appearance. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, instead addressing your mother. “It is done,” he said, sounding exhausted.

You turned to your mother who lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “It was for the best,” she said in response. You looked between the two. Your father finally noticed you and looked at the bag in your hand. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I’m leaving,” you answered.

Your father let out a cold laugh as he moved to sit in the chair next to your mother. “No you’re not,” he answered. “There’s nowhere for you to go.” You glared at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of staying here, listening to your nonsense! I’m leaving!”

“You really are an ungrateful brat,” your father said, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, taking a step closer.

“We gave you life, kept a roof over your head, clothed you, fed you, taught you, and this is how you repay us?” your father asked. “With contempt and disobedience?”

“I never asked to be born!” you screamed. “I didn’t ask for any of this! You’re my parents! You’re supposed to do those things! That’s the bare minimum!”

“Do not raise your voice at your father!” your mother snapped.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “Fuck both of you.”

Your father got up and advanced on you but you were ready for him. When he tried to hit you, instead you swung your bag at him, hitting him in the side of the head and making him stagger. “I’m not your property or some beast you can beat into submission!” you shouted. “I am a human! A woman! I deserve respect as such and you will not lay another hand on me!”

“Where do you think you’re going to go!?” your mother shouted. “Your lover is dead!”

You froze as you reached the door, hand on the knob. You turned back to look at your mother who had a hand over her mouth. “What did you just say?” you whispered. “The witch is dead,” your father repeated. “We hung him from a tree and buried his body in the woods.”

Your heart sank, heat rising to your face as you tried to hold back tears.

“You’re lying,” you spat. “Yeosang would never allow you to—”

“Jonas gave us his key,” your father interrupted as he got to his feet, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “Here,” he said, his voice void of any emotion as he tossed whatever it was at your feet. “Proof that your precious witch is dead.”

You looked down at your feet, kneeling to pick up the object which turned out to be a necklace, a small gasp escaping you as you recognized the pendant. It was Hongjoong’s. You would know this amulet anywhere.

You looked up at your father who had a smug smile on his face. “Believe it now? Your lover is dead and his soul rotting in Hell where he belongs.”

The anger that had been bubbling inside you reached a boiling point and rage fueled your actions. You dropped the bag and lunged for your father, ducking his attempt to hit you and knocked him to the ground, striking him anywhere you could reach. When your mother tried to stop you, you knocked her aside, grabbed one of her knitting needles and raised it above your head.

“Y/N NO!” your mother screamed. You brought it down, stabbing it into the floor next to your father’s head, panting heavily. You leaned over him. “You try to follow me,” you said in a low tone. “And I won’t hesitate to kill you,” you hissed. “You are not my father. I hope Satan himself rises from Hell and drags you there for what you’ve done.”

You got off him, offering a swift kick to his side before turning to your mother. “And you belong with him. What kind of mother stands aside while her husband beats their child and murders an innocent man. You two deserve each other and I hope you enjoy the fires of Hell.”

Without another word, you headed for the door, stopping to grab your bag, before you wrenched open the door and left, slamming it hard behind you.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Six

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.

“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”

Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML. 

That was only an hour ago. 

He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him. 

“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“ 

“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses. 

“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.” 

“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise. 

It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet. 

“I dinnae need-“ 

“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist. 

“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses. 

“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs. 

“Alright.” 

“What’re you doing after this?”

“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?

“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.

“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt. 

“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.

“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”

“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.

Nothing like a seven am beer. 

Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.

“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.

“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.” 

You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.

“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”

“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”

“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”

“No days. You?”

“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”

“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.

“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

>Make it home from work alright? 

>It’s Johnny, by the way :) 

The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.

“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.

“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”

“What?”

“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” 

“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” 

Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.

“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”

“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.

Your beer goes sour in your stomach.

“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.

You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.

By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.

It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines. 

>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!

A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.

>Get some rest.  

The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.

Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.

He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.

Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.

He won’t be your patient anymore. 

He won’t… be your patient anymore. 

The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.

This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery. 

So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright. 

This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake. 

They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you. 

You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own. 

It’s for the best. 

You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.

Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional. 

Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will. 

“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.

“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny. 

“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer. 

“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on? 

“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.

A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.

“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”

“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.

“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face. 

“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.

“Ye think so?”

“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.

“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”

“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Doesnae count. I was high.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”

“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now... 

“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”

“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“

“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?  

You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well. 

"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.

“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.

“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?

“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”

“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number? 

Of course, he knows, he started that group text. 

Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-

“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We, bunny? We.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?

“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”

“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.

“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”

“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.

“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.

"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.

Fuck. You’re so fucked. 

Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.  

Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.

Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest. 

He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.

So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.

His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.

>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.

> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?

>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.

>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck. 

Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way. 

>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.

Simon,  Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?  I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.  You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.  I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.  -K.L. 

There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.

Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from? 

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | complications

masterlist | tag list

words: 2.9k warnings: 18+ | angst, near death experience, blood, reader has a traumatic birth w/complications, PTSD naturally, joel reminded of sarah's death, newbown baby (yes they can be spooky! but this one is cute and safe), (please just somebody take that poor man's pain away) (or not because then what would we write about?) (also he and ellie are a little estranged like in tlou2) prompt: I was thinking maybe Jackson! Joel era and pregnant reader and then she almost dies while giving birth to the baby! Gives room for a lot of drama and angst, and potential comfort right at the end for our favorite old man. tags: (i know it's been a while since I last posted so let me know if you want to be untagged) @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl note: you can read this as pedro's joel if you so wish, but i am in my game!joel feels rn

“I can’t do this, Joel.” Your face creased with pain as another contraction wracked through you. You’d known that labour would hurt, of course, but you hadn’t expected it to come on this quickly, and so strong. You hadn’t yet passed the eight-month mark, and you weren’t prepared. Not even a little. You hadn’t even sorted the nursery yet, or found a crib.

Joel held your hand on the floor of your living room, keeping you supported while you braced against the couch. He brushed the hair from your face, calm and unreadable as ever, but even you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled against your skin. “You got this, baby girl. I know you can.”

“Don’t think you have much of a choice.” Your doctor, one of the few midwives in town, lifted her head. She sat at your feet, peeling off her gloves after your examination. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming right now.”

“There’s no time to get to the infirmary?” you questioned, voice rising in panic. The contractions had barely started an hour ago, and sure, you’d left it a little late before confessing that they were getting painful. Ellie had rushed out not fifteen minutes ago to call for your midwife’s help, and now…

Now, the baby was coming, and all you could think was that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. The pregnancy had been a shock to your system. You hadn’t even been sure that Joel would want to go through with it after everything he’d experienced before. But he’d held your hand through each ultrasound, felt your belly for the first kick, and even when you saw fear — dread, even — cross his features, you could easily reassure him that this time was different. This time, it was safe. You’d lived in Jackson for over a year now, and it was the security of the community that had made motherhood feel possible. 

The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. You need to start pushing on your next contraction.”

“Oh, god,” you whispered, teeth chattering as the weight of the situation hit you.

“Hey, look at me.” Joel tilted your chin gently. “It’s gonna be just fine, darlin’. You just breathe and push, okay? We’ll do the rest.” 

“Right, just breathe and push,” you muttered. “Of course, you forgot the part about shoving a small human out of my hoo-ha.” 

He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, right. That little detail.”

“I kinda hate you right now.” Just as you said it, another contraction hit, and your head fell back as you moaned. 

“Push now if you feel like you should!” your midwife reminded. Then, to Ellie: “Go get some clean towels, hon. Lots of ‘em.”

In the doorway, Ellie looked grateful to be given a job and scampered off. 

You did as instructed, dipping your chin into your chest as you pushed, pushed, pushed. A scream ripped through you at the pain it brought, each moment worse than the last. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good. She’s gonna be here so soon,” Joel whispered, his grip around you the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. 

Dizziness consumed you as your contraction finally eased. “Is she okay?”

“I’m seeing the head.” The midwife beamed. “Just a few more pushes, okay?”

Somehow, you breathed, and you pushed, and you felt your way through the pain as your body broke and mended and then broke again. Joel kept his grip on your hand tight, reassuring, but you saw him bite his lip toward the end and knew that he might have been just as terrified as you. 

The final push finally came, and you sunk back as the newborn's cry rang out.

“She’s here. You did it,” Joel murmured, kissing your clammy temple. He laughed into your skin, the sound of joy and disbelief sending a shiver through you. You tried to lift your head, to see your daughter, but everything felt wrong. Heavy. It still hurt, and black spots dotted your vision. 

“Le’ me see her.” Your words were slurred, your voice far away.

The last thing you heard was Joel calling your name, his voice raw and broken — terrified. 

***

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded. 

“She’s bleeding too heavily. I need to get her to the infirmary.”  The midwife shook her head, handing him the screaming newborn. His screaming newborn. It had taken months to quell the panic of becoming a father again — not that he had ever truly stopped. Sarah had lived in his heart all these years, and Ellie was his daughter, even if she hated him for what he did. 

He made the mistake of looking at you, and the sight of the blood made him sick. So much of it. There was so damn much of it. He’d seen a lot of people bleed out, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this much. 

“Shit," he cursed.

He didn’t know when Ellie had returned, but she stood wan and she’ll shocked beside him now.

“Please, take her.” He shoved the baby into her arms before lowering back to his knees to grab your hand. “Don’t you dare do this to me, baby. Not now.” 

“Can you carry her to the infirmary?” the midwife asked desperately.

He didn’t think twice, slipping his arms under your limp body. 

“Joel! She’s gonna be alright, right?” Ellie stuttered, and he heard the panic in her voice, too, as she swayed the baby from side to side, swaddling her in blankets. You were the closest thing Ellie had to a mother. If either of them lost you…

He couldn’t even try to find an answer, as much as he wanted it to be yes.

He gritted his teeth, hauling you up on shaky legs. Thankfully, the infirmary was only a few blocks away, and nobody was there to slow him down so late at night. 

He couldn’t make sense of it. One minute, he’d been settling down for the night after a long patrol shift. The next, you were curled up in pain, claiming the baby was coming. 

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, fingers curling into your old sweater. His old sweater, if he was being particular, but you’d stolen it from him so long ago that it smelled completely of you now: soap and fresh air. Blood. 

He staggered into the infirmary with that smell still in his nostrils, dampness spreading across his hands, and he damn near passed out on the threshold. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave you, even when flashes of him holding Sarah this exact way raced through his mind. Even when a broken sob stuck in his throat, because he was holding on, and you weren’t, and she wasn’t, and why did he always have to be the one to watch the life seep from them? To end the night with nothing but their blood on his hands?

He set you down on the first bed he came to, drawing the alarmed attention of the nurses, who had a moment ago been ready to dose off on their night shift. In such a small community, they weren’t often needed after dark.

Behind him, the midwife called out orders, wheeling you away into the surgery theatre. He watched you disappear into a white-walled room, a tiny thing that never would have sufficed in the old world. 

In the old world, you probably wouldn’t have given birth in a living room. In the old world, he wouldn’t be stiff with a fear he couldn’t control, frozen with memories that refused to ever leave him.

He spun around and felt unsettled to see Ellie cradling the baby, mouth agape with the same cluelessness he felt. His baby. His. He had to be a father now, but he didn’t know how when you weren’t here with him. He felt like that thing he was always losing in his dreams was finally gone for good. Ripped from him one last time.

He couldn’t look at the baby’s cherubic face. Couldn’t even look at Ellie.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been so relaxed just yesterday to think of the little life you’d both been impatiently waiting to begin. Couldn’t remember how he’d found the strength to sing a lullaby to your bump, laughing when a foot kicked his palm as though telling him to shut the hell up. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so tiny and pink and new, wrapped in bloody blankets, and he…

“Go give her to one of the nurses,” he whispered. 

“Joel—” Ellie made to protest, but he couldn’t hear it. Wouldn't.

“Ellie,” he snapped. “Go give her to one of the damn nurses. I can’t.”

“Well, you don’t have a fucking choice, because she’s yours now.” Ellie shoved her into his hands without warning. He tensed with the new weight, bile rising in his stomach. No. No. No. Everything he held, he broke. 

But then the baby let out a gurgle, her feet kicking his palm just like the night before when she was still safe in your belly, and he couldn’t keep from looking down at her. Couldn’t keep from seeing you in all her innocent features. Eyes, nose, even the fine tuft of hair on her head. 

“I can clean her down and check she’s doing okay,” a nurse offered, and suddenly, he was reluctant to let her go. 

And then he remembered you, the blood, your motionless body after so long spent screaming, Ellie’s hatred, Tess, Sarah, and he was glad for somebody else to take care of her. The further away that kid was, the better. He was a fucking curse, and she…

He scraped a hand over his face, pacing over to the surgery room. He didn’t dare march in, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said from behind him gently. “She’s strong, and I’m sure shit like this happens all the time.” 

“I told her we’d be okay,” Joel rasped out, face crumpling finally. “I told her that it would turn out alright, that we could be… That we could make something good here.”

“And you will,” Ellie said. 

He shook his head. “I might as well have killed her my damn self.” He looked down at his bloodied hands as though they weren’t his. They shook more than they ever had before. 

“Stop it! She’s going to make it. She has to!” Ellie’s yell took him aback, piercing in such a quiet, echoey space. She jabbed a finger into Joel’s shoulder. “And you have to hold it together. I know it’s fucking hard, alright, but you don’t get to lose it now! You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in our lives, Joel! That’s not how it works!”

He swallowed down his own self-loathing, head bowed. “I can’t do it without her,” he whispered. 

The rawness in his voice must have been visceral, because Ellie paused, her eyes filling with tears. 

And then she hugged him, tight enough that he thought maybe she was trying to keep him in one piece. He let out a ragged breath and held her. And then he did what she asked. He tried to hold it together. 

***

You woke to whispers and gurgles and wondered for a moment if you were dreaming. Your lids were heavy, body distant, and you couldn’t quite remember where you were or who was supposed to be with you. 

Until you prised your eyes open and found IVs plugged into your veins. 

“There she is,” a voice said softly. 

You blinked, searching for the source, and found it in a bleary version of Joel. He sat in a chair beside your bed, a tiny baby in his arms. His smile was shaky, distorted, and you didn’t know why. Not until he leaned forward and brushed your hair from your face with his free arm.

“Thought you’d left me there for a second.” 

“Is she okay?” Your throat was hoarse. 

He nodded. “Right as rain. It’s you we were worried about.” 

You frowned, trying to remember. One minute, you were pushing as though your life depended on it, and then the next, you were just… gone. 

“You had a heavy bleed. Needed a transfusion,” Joel explained finally. “But they reckon you’re gonna be okay, thank god.” 

“But she’s okay?” You stared at the baby nestled against his chest, not quite sure how she was here. When had this being growing inside of you become a real, tangible thing? How much of her life had you already missed?

Joel sighed impatiently. “Yes, baby. She’s perfect. Takes after her mom in that department.”

He moved to perch beside you so that you could get a closer look. He was right, of course. She was a little smaller than most newborns, but she was perfect. Pink apple cheeks, wide eyes, tiny fingernails. Looking at her felt like everything had finally fallen into place. You tickled her chin and her lips twitched with something content. Something right.

“How’s it feel, being a daddy again?” you asked gently, looking up at him. 

“Right now, it feels like hell. You can’t go scaring me like that.” He wouldn’t look at you, frown set firmly on his daughter. “Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been. After everything, you’d finally thought that danger, terror, was a thing of the past. You’d done a great job of ruining that, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Joel had lost too much before to deal with all this, and you had no idea how you’d cope in his shoes. 

He chuckled. “You’re sorry.” Shook his head. “I ain’t trying to make you apologise for almost dying, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“We said we could do this right,” you whispered. “I promised you it’d be different.” 

“Yeah, well… feels like things’ll never be different for me.” 

You snapped your head up. “What’s that mean?” 

“Nothin’.” He sighed, kissing your temple, and yet still, he wouldn’t meet your eye. “How about you get some rest? I’ll keep the little missus company.” 

“Joel.” You cupped his jaw, pleading now. Everything felt so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even though the proof was right in front of you, it was hard to believe your baby was happy and healthy after all the trauma you’d faced. “We’re not gonna start her life this way. Tell me what you mean.”

He placed the baby down in the crib beside your bed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I keep having to plan a life where I’m alone again, and honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it if I had to. Not this time.”

“But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t. For a minute there, I thought…” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head. “Sarah’s gone. Ellie hates me. Why the hell did I think it’d be third time lucky? She’s not even a day old, and she almost lost her mom! And there was nothing I could do. There’s never anything I can do.”

Your heart ached for him. One day, you prayed he wouldn’t hold the responsibility of every single person he loved on his shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d been foolish to go into this thinking it could be better. The world would never be safe, not even here in Jackson, and the pain he must live with every day sure as hell wouldn’t ease now he had another daughter to raise. 

You felt hollow at the thought that maybe he’d leave. You wouldn’t blame him, not really. You were scared, too. But you’d only found the strength to do this because you were together, and you’d survived the odds so far. If that stopped feeling true… what then?

Devastation must have been written all over your face, because he pursed his lips. “Don’t listen to me, baby. I shouldn’t be sayin’ all this. You’re barely out of the woods.” 

“I don’t think we can keep doing this if you don’t let some of that guilt and blame go, Joel,” you admitted. “I think your daughter is gonna need a man who doesn’t hate himself for every single thing that’s wrong in the world. You’re right. There was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. It was my body, and things like this happened even before the outbreak. I can’t imagine how scared you were, love, but fuck, you can’t keep making it your fault. It isn’t. It never was, especially not with Sarah. And this baby? She isn't Sarah." 

He winced at her name, as he often still did. Collapsing back in his chair, he took your hand. Slowly, his lower lip began to wobble as he finally met your gaze. “I love you too much to lose you. And her… How the hell am I gonna do this?” 

“I can’t answer that,” you said. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.” Then, he bowed his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Gonna try to be better. I promise. I'll hold it together."

“You don’t need to be better, and you don't need to hold it together. You’re already a good man, and talking about all this is important - for both of us. And for her.” You squeezed his fingers tightly. “I love you so much.” You teared up as you looked at the baby dozing in her crib. “And god, I love her. Can you believe we made her?” 

He hummed. “What the hell are we gonna call her?” 

“And where the hell are we gonna put her?” you added, worrying at your lip. “We never even found a crib.”

He shrugged, teasing. “I’m sure we’ll find a corner somewhere.” He leaned forward, tracing circles along your arm. “We’ll make do. Between the four of us, we’ll find a way. I’ll cut the damn trees down and build us a place from scratch myself if I have to.”

You smiled, peace finally flooding your exhausted body. You saw Ellie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, and knew Joel was right. Your family was complete now. It would be a little broken at times, as all things were, but you’d do everything in your power to keep it whole. 

Even if it meant reminding Joel every damn day that he had to be gentle with himself.

[russo-woso]

hiii would you please write something like arsenal women are playing just dance as a team bonding and reader is really really good at it to the point where everyone is shocked and filming it and the fans make loads of tiktok edits that the team all see and send round each other and reader manages to get viv to join in next time (she usually refuses but loves reader to much to deny her anything) maybe teen or early 20s reader?! thank you!!

Just Dance || Arsenal Women

“You don’t understand, I used to do just dance all the time in PE. If it was raining, we’d all be in the hall doing just dance. I’m a pro at it.” You tell most of the girls.

Everyone was in the changing rooms after a training session and were all discussing team bonding that was taking place at Leah’s, and your, house.

Being only 17, the team agreed that it wasn’t best that you lived by yourself and so Leah offered that you moved in with her.

Living with Leah had its advantages and disadvantages.

For starters, she had the appetite of a five year old, only eating chicken nuggets and the most basic foods.

However, it came with many advantages that outweighed all the bad ones.

Leah was one of your team mums, along with Kim, Beth and viv, but Leah was the one you were closest to.

With your parents living up north, Leah took it upon herself to make you feel at home in north London.

And that’s exactly what she had done. Now it wasn’t just Leah’s home, it was yours and Leah’s.

“Y/N, our living room isn’t big enough to do just dance.” Leah pointed out, packing her stuff into her bag before starting to pack yours, knowing that you’d forget to do it otherwise.

“It’s enough for me to do just dance and maybe one other person. Come on, Le. Please.” You looked at her, battering your eyelids as you did your best puppy eyes.

Leah loved you with every ounce of her body, but the one thing she hated, was your eyes.

Them stupid eyes had you hooked around her finger.

Leah tried to fight them this time, but as you put just as strong a fight, Leah sighed before nodding her head.

“Thanks, le le. Right, it’s official. I get to show everyone just how good I am at just dance.” You announced to the changing room, a smile appearing on everyone’s faces at how excited you were. “I’m gonna beat all your arses so best get your dancing shoes on.”

“Sure you will mini gunner.” Katie’s Irish accent filled the room as giggles escaped everyone’s mouths.

“You just wait and see McCabe.”

————————

Later that evening, the whole team was gathered round in yours and Leah living room whilst you set up just dance on the TV.

You were going to go up against Alessia first but lessi being the clumsiest person ever, went and fell off the sofa, nearly breaking her neck.

To Alessia’s disappointment, you insisted that she didn’t play, scared that she’d somehow break her leg.

Instead, you decided to just do it by yourself.

Everyone got their phones out, ready to capture the embarrassing moment.

But what everyone didn’t expect, was their phones to capture a moment where you showed them the truth.

You really were a pro.

Finishing with a perfect score, you turned around and saw everyone’s jaws on the ground.

“I told you. I perfected my dancing in PE.”

Everyone took it in turns trying to beat your score but it was no use.

The night continued, and one by one, everyone left leaving just you and Leah.

You out something on the tv as you cuddled up to Leah’s side, freezing cold even though the heating was on.

“I’m gonna head up, le. See you in the morning.” Leah hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Night, tiny dancer.”

————————

“Viv! You posted it on Instagram?” You shouted over the phone.

You had woken up about five minutes ago, and picked up your phone.

You didn’t have many notifications but there was one that stood out.

Viv had tagged you in a video.

You clicked on it, curious as to what video she’d tagged you in, but as soon as the familiar setting of your living room, and the tv with just dance in it appeared, you knew exactly what viv had posted.

That’s what led to a very angry you shouting at your phone.

“It was too good not to post. I had to.” Viv explained, but you were too focused on Beth laughing in the background.

“Beth, do you seriously find this funny? You don’t understand, everyone is making edits of me playing just dance.” You stated, your mouth wide open at the fact they find this funny.

“Kid, you were good. Viv isn’t the only one who’s posted videos of you dancing.” Beth pointed out and you jaw dropped to the floor.

“What? Who else has?”

“Alessia, Katie, even Leah.” Viv responded.

Jumping up from your bed, you stormed over to Leah’s bedroom, banging on the door before an annoyed what was heard.

“You posted the video on TikTok. Out of everyone, I thought you’d be the last one to post it.” You said to Leah, a sense of betrayal in your voice.

“Sorry, kiddo, but I had to. And anyway, the fans love it. Look at what the fans are saying.” Leah suggested and you opened tiktok, Beth and Viv still on the phone.

“Listen, Y/N, the fans loved it. They even want more just dance videos.” Beth stated, as you scrolled through the comments of fans saying how well you did.

“Forgive us now, kid?” Leah asked, noticing how the frown on your face had disappeared.

Whilst Leah spoke to you, a specific comment caught your attention.

We need Viv and Leah to do it now

“I will, but under one condition. You and Viv do a dance with me.” You grinned cheekily, knowing that you were a soft spot for both Leah and Viv, so you knew they wouldn’t say no.

Leah’s face dropped and Viv let out a grunt of annoyance.

After just a matter of seconds, both of them agreed and you knew that this was gonna be good.

————————

“Viv, you’re doing it wrong! You go to the left, not the right.” You exclaimed in a fit of laughter as you recorded Leah and Viv dancing.

The whole team had gathered round to watch whilst they all recorded the embarrassing moment.

“I am going left! Leah’s just going the wrong way.” Viv defended, throwing her hands up in annoyance and anger.

“Follow the instructions on the tv. It’s easy.” You explained and both, Leah and Viv, turned around to look at you, disbelief written on their faces.

“It’s easy? No it is not, kid. This is fucking exhausting and hard.” Leah shouted, out of breath from the dancing.

“We couldn’t all do just dance in PE.” Viv pointed out and Leah nodded in agreement.

“Yeah because you’re both old.” You muttered under your breath, thinking you’d get away with the snarky comment but boy were you wrong.

You heard a gasp from next to you, turning your head to be met with Kyra and a cheeky smile in her face.

“Y/N just said you’re both old.” Kyra snitched and you squeezed your eyes close, dreading what was to come.

“You little shit. You make us do just dance and then call us old?” Leah frowned, hand on her hips.

“Fine. Maybe you’re not that old, but you’re not exactly young.”

“Right that’s it.” Leah grabbed ahold of you, tickling your sides as you helplessly tried to get her off you.

Desperate for help, you called out to your other teammates but it was no use, everyone was in a fit of laughter.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you go. Actually, I’ll stop if you let us have chicken nuggets tonight and not complain.” Leah said, despite the laughter that was leaving your lips.

“Fine, fine. But only if I get to post the video of you and Viv dancing.” You compromised and Leah thought about it for a moment.

“Deal.”

“Hey, I never agreed!” Viv shouted, and you gave her a confused look.

“Sorry, I don’t understand you with your Scottish accent.” You stated, the sneaky comment sending laughter throughout the team.

“Right, that’s it kiddo. Leah, have chicken nuggets for the rest of the week.”

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

B-urn

Tags : Fluff then Angst, Smitten Gojo Satoru x F!Reader :), Gojo as a hateful dad, character death.

A/N : I've had enough of soft dad Gojo Satoru, I need some hateful dad Gojo Satoru or something similar to it at least.

WC : 1.7k

__________________________________________________

1 " Hey 'toru, Get some peaches on your way back. " " Hey, honey. "

"You're crazy," you whisper speechlessly, pushing a strand of wet hair off your eyes and gazing blankly at Satoru kneeling on the tiled floor with a velvet box in his hand, encasing a sparkly ring inside- both his and your birthstones, you notice.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But one thing's for sure, I never thought I wanted to settle down. But now...now I just can't imagine a future without you," Satoru starts, you've never seen him so genuine of his feelings, so innocently vulnerable like he's gonna shatter if you say no.

"So please, answer my question. Can I marry you and make myself the happiest man to have ever lived?" He continues, gentler this time. You bite your bottom lip, holding a sob back as you nod, too afraid that you'll fall apart if you speak. You nod once again, feeling warmth envelop your skin as Satoru throws himself at you and peppers your face with kisses- 'Thank you's' and 'I love you's' slipping out his mouth like butter on a heated pan as he slips the ring on your finger.

You clear your throat, backing away as you look at the ring glint under the light with a smile," it's beautiful, Satoru. I love it but next time, please don't propose to me in the bathroom when I'm fresh out of the shower," you say with a wide grin on your face, tugging the towel around you to secure its position again. Satoru responds with a huge grin of his own, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck," Couldn't wait for tonight's date, I've waited long enough for this," he mumbles, placing soft kisses against your damp skin.

"Tha-," he shuts you up with his lips, "Okay, fine. Sorry, I'll keep the destination in mind next time," he apologizes with a sheepish grin but you know better than that, he's not the least bit sorry.

2 " I'm going shopping with your mum for my wedding dress today, I might be a little late. " " I hope you're doing fine "

The wedding was perfect from start to finish, the Gojo clan doing all the grunt work while the two of you made the final call at the end. Everything was perfect for Satoru, especially you. He even tears up a little when he watches you walk down the aisle towards him- muted giggles echoing in the enclosed wedding hall at his reaction. He had his blindfold removed for the day despite the fact that the shards of decorated glass and bright lights irritated his six eyes, a small sacrifice for the greater good.

The greater good being getting a better look at you, every blemish, every scar and every battle wound peeking out of your wedding dress was perfection to him. His heart tap-dancing in his chest when he meets your eyes, absolutely smitten for the look of pure joy in your face when your father finally rests your hand on Satoru's and the officiant starts the wedding, his words falling on deaf ears when Satoru chooses to gaze at you with adoration in his eyes instead.

Popping out of his reverie when your sparkling eyes meets his and a smile tugs at your lips," You're supposed to say 'I do' now," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I do," his voice rings, loud and clear, squeezing your hand back after you do the same.

"You may kiss the bride." Finally.

"My wife," he thinks to himself happily before pulling you in and crushing your lips against his, the cheers from the crowd gradually turning into background noise, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth against his. He breaks the kiss only when thunder erupts and the pitter-patter of the rain starts loud and ominously, he turns and looks at you worriedly only to be left surprised when you look back at him with delight.

"Looks like even the heavens are blessing our wedding now," you hum, pulling him by the arm towards the door to the large balcony. Pushing the door open and dragging him towards the middle of the open balcony with a grin, the heavy rain immediately drenching the two of you- you let go of his arm, turning to face him with a hand held out," Can I have this dance?" a teasing grin on your face, Satoru swears his heart actually stopped for a second; grabbing hold of your hand, he places a quick kiss on your knuckles," gladly."

Gently swaying in the rain to the music drifting from the wedding hall, Satoru couldn't be happier. He's the happiest man to have ever lived when in your arms.

3 " 'll make breakfast tomorrow though, you want anything? " " I'm not sure if I told you this enough but "

Getting pregnant 3 years after your marriage wouldn't have been a surprising thing but it was for the two of you considering the fact that you went at it like rabbits. You wanted kids, he didn't, heirs and other matters be damned. He wanted you to himself for as long as possible, hoard your attention and love for as long as he could before you finally put your foot down.

The dreaded day arrived sooner than he liked, he'd have preferred another 7 years alone with you but you didn't give in this time. Adamant on bearing his child and starting a family, how could he ever say no to you? So he gives in and fucks you with a new goal in mind- getting you pregnant with his child.

Two weeks later, your breathe hitches as you look at the stick in your hand- you're pregnant. Excited squeals gushing out of you, you rush out the bathroom and to the shared master bedroom where you hold the pregnancy test up at Satoru's face. He looks at you with mild shock in his face," already?" He asks softly, taking the stick from your hand and looking at it blankly, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides him, you nod excitedly," We're gonna be parents, s'toru!"

Before you know it, he throws the test aside on the floor, pulling you in his arms and crushing you under his weight as he presses kisses all over your flushed face," we're gonna be parents!" You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to slow down the barrage of kisses. Satoru still wasn't really sure about the idea of a child yet but your joy at the thought of it was enough for him to push that idea aside, what you wanted was what he wanted, it's a universal rule.

"We gotta celebrate this now, don't we?" He mumbles, hands slowly sliding under your shirt with a smirk, earning him a swat against his chest. "Gosh, you're disgusting," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him in. "And you love me for it, Mama," he coos, pressing a light kiss at the corner of your lips- your heart swells at the thought of being a mother, you were finally gonna start a family of your own with the man you love, life couldn't get any better.

4 " It might rain today so call me when you're done, okay? I'll come pick you up. " " I love you so much "

Fear and respect, two sides of the same coin, was easy to come by when it came to Gojo Satoru, hating even easier but what was hard was loving him, harder than it should be- Loving him was like climbing up a snowy mountain with nothing but a fork, Loving him was like crossing the seven seas with only a raft, Loving him was like trying to figure out what to do with a beloved china bowl that got smashed into pieces. It was nigh impossible to love him, anyone who did try gave up halfway through, only leaving him worse still. But everything changed once you came along.

You didn't climb the snowy mountain with a fork, not at all. You just waited long enough for a ski lift to be built for skiing enthusiasts and then took the lift yourself. You gave him time to adapt, time to breathe before finally making your way through the icy remnants of his scarred heart.

You didn't travel the seven seas with a raft, not at all. You just sold the raft and bought yourself a ticket for a worldwide cruise, enjoying every single moment on the long trip back to him. You gave him patience and waited happily for him to come around.

You didn't just accept your fate to pick the broken china pieces and throw it in the bin, not at all. You just gently assembled it and glazed it with lacquer, painstakingly painting over every crack with gold. You didn't fix him, you just accepted all of his broken pieces, that's all - the rest he did it himself.

It wasnt the fact that you took the easy way out, not at all. It was the fact that you put the effort to think about ways to love him- It was always hard to love Satoru, you just made it easy. So if someone asks Satoru why he loves you so, all he does is smile and answers " no reason at all." He just loves everything about you, he doesn't need a reason to do so.

5 " You don't sound so well, is everything okay? " " More than you could ever know "

20 weeks, 5 months, into your pregnancy and Satoru's already starting to feel uneasy, the change is small, unnoticeable to the normal eye even. But the change is there, his six eyes catching everything. You've gotten weaker, not externally per se but internally. He brings it up once when the two of you cuddle in the bed, you laugh and brush it off by saying," it's only natural." He's not convinced but he doesn't push it, opting to graze the curve of your cheek instead.

Something was really wrong, very, very wrong- You've been rapidly losing weight, the complete opposite of what should be happening. The growing baby bump only makes you grow thinner, finding it hard to even do the basic things, having to rely on Satoru for everything. He'd have been delighted on being relied on some other time but this time he's not, he's more concerned than anything.

The trip to the doctors doesnt change a single thing, every single one of them saying the same thing over and over and over again. "She's fine, just a rare case. It's better than it looks, 'ts just an uncommon case of weight loss during pregnancy." He swears its not, the very molecules that makes up you seems to be slowly but steadily gathering and surrounding one particular place, your belly but how could they know that? They were normal doctors, not some omniscient sorcerer like him.

So he grits his teeth, quietly holding your hand and holding onto his last hope, Shoko. Despite it not being her area of expertise, he can only hope for the best afterall she was a sorcerer too, she has to have the ability to figure it out...doesn't she? All hope comes crashing down when Shoko shakes her head, there was nothing wrong with you, the final verdict.

" I told you, didn't I? It's just an uncommon case, honey. You're too paranoid," you grin and tiredly pat his hand, boney fingers brushing against his. Your engagement ring and wedding ring hanging around a chain on your neck glistens blindingly under the stark hospital light- it became too loose to fit you anymore. Satoru feels slight prickles in his eyes from underneath the blindfold, he doesn't know why but he does. Forcing a tight smile at you, he nods," You might be right dear, but you know I can't help it when it comes to you," he mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles to hide his falling smile. You chuckle lightly, flushing at the contact," You're such a silly man, 'toru. "

6 " Hmm? Oh I'm fine, don't worry. How's work though? " " And I swear I've tried, I really have "

Problems over problems befall, the number of curses quickly increasing exponentially with no rhyme or reason and the higher-ups pressuring him from all side was taking a toll on him, not to mention your declining health. You looked healthier now, taking the supplements that Shoko provided helped you not look like you were gonna fall dead at any given moment. A farce, Satoru notes, you're healthier on the outside, dying on the inside. He even contemplates getting rid of the thing inside you completely but as if like you read his mind, telepathically catching onto his thoughts, you become more protective.

Hands always wrapped around your belly and eyes instinctively following his every movement, always on sharp alert. Waiting for something to happen, you're not entirely sure for what but you wait. Catching onto your guarded attitude, Satoru drops the idea immediately. He doesn't want you to hate him, he'd die if you did and even he's not sure if he means it figuratively.

He makes sure to coo at your belly every night though, sure he doesn't want a child but that didn't mean he didn't feel any love for it despite the toll it took on you. He just hates it as a husband and loves it as a father- hates it even more as a lover. Hiding his slowly growing apprehension of the unborn child inside you with a mask of an excited father-to-be.

You know Satoru acts off this days especially when he interacts with the baby but you don't say anything, he's a busy man and you were currently out of service which meant double the work, you couldn't possibly have the right to ask him what's wrong, right?

7 " 'Toru, don't worry about me. I'm not mad, I promise. Just try to get your business trip finish a little faster okay? " " So please don't hate me too much "

You're a nervous wreck, anxiety fully settling deep in your bones despite the contractions. The pain was doing nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside you other than making it worse, 7 hours in after your water broke and Satoru is nowhere in sight- you're nervous, in pain and surrounded by strangers. Shoko was kicked out, 'only family members are allowed in' they said, despite your pleas they ignore you. They were gonna have hell to pay later until then you had to push through it by yourself, it couldn't possibly get any worse.

Biting down on your lips after screaming your throat hoarse, you squeeze your eyes shut, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with the metallic ones on your lips only making you want to gag. Slowly, loud words starts to blur and dim as your vision gets hazy, drifting in and out of your consciousness while barely catching sight of the figures hovering around you," I see the head!" One particularly loud statement snaps you back into reality, everything ending too quickly from there with still no sign of your husband anywhere.

With the first cry resounding in the room, your heart rate falls rapidly; the once searing pain only a throb now, a small respite but an unwelcoming one. You wish for the numbing chill to be replaced for the burning pain, praying for the latter if it meant that you could still breathe in the scent of his skin, still comb your fingers through arctic white hair, still stare into his cerulean blue eyes, still lay your head above hi- "I'm sorry" a hushed whisper in the chaos.

The high-pitched beeps flatlines, parallel lines all in all. The silence is too loud and the air too thick, working their way to restart a heart that's already dead and gone. Somewhere in the distance another heart drops, not with the promise of death but of something much worse. What use is a beating heart if the soul is already dead?

8 " I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I swear I tried " " But I can't do it "

Satoru doesn't hate her. No, he abhors her. The feeling of complete hatred and malice against an individual- every babble, every cry, every coo, her very existence disgusts him to the core. Somedays he just wants to snap her neck, it'd be so easy, so quick, so satisfying, so very dreadful. Somedays Satoru even considers it, his long slender fingers wrapping around her small sleeping figure and squeezing just a little, just a twitch but her eyes always flutters open, always gazes at him with a smile, always holds her chubby little arms out to him.

It's not her smile, her voice or his guilty conscience that stops him, it's her eyes. Your eyes. The curve, the shape, the color, the very crinkle reminds him of you, your eyes are staring back at him but it's not you. It'll never be you. Pulling his hand back like he got burned, he rushes out. It's what he always does these days, he runs and runs until he can't anymore, hoping that maybe somewhere along the way, he'll finally find you again.

You're so cruel and so very heartless, if you were gonna leave him in the end you should've never made him love you at all but you did, you did and he loves you. He loves you and you left.

Satoru is always bitter, maybe if she didn't have your eyes then maybe it'd be easier to get rid of her, maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. But you're always there, your first gift being her last saving grace. Your eyes, your first, your life, your last. Maybe you knew about it, you always did say that you wanted a baby that looked like you. He never bothered to ask why because he agreed with you, he always agrees with you, but now he seems to understand why, you always did understand him better than he did himself.

So all he does is mourn, he mourns but he doesn't cry- he didn't cry when he got the news of your death neither did he cry when he saw your body, not a single tear in sight. He just silently stood by your side, gently grazing your face with a finger, hands interlocked with yours until your last moment. And like all sorcerers fate, he watched your body get cremated until nothing but ashes were left in the end. Silently making his way back to a dark and empty house with nothing but the urn of your ash in his hand. He still doesn't cry when he hugs the urn close to his chest and stares at your side of the bed late into the night, he doesn't cry at all.

He doesn't cry because he can't cry. Tears are the embodiment of an emotion, what use are they for a man who's already gone numb?

9 " I love you " " I can't love her "

"Hiiii, 'toru"

"Hey, honey."

"How's everything over there?"

"She's growing up fast, you'd be surprised. She has my hair, y'know? Well, the color at least. It's funny how she's starting to resemble me, it's almost uncanny. She has your eyes though, it's like she copy-pasted your eyes onto hers, it's almost scary because it feels like it's you thats looking back at me sometimes. And well, she started going school now; just wanted to let you know that-"

"Well, that's sounds fun"

"...it's really not, not without you here"

"Aww, you miss me that much~?"

"I do, I miss you so much that it physically hurts"

"Aww I miss you too, honey. Tell you wha-"

Satoru sighs, cutting the saved voice message. What was he even doing, answering to your pre-recorded voice like a deranged person. But maybe he was deranged or tired perhaps both, he's not sure but what he was sure of was the fact that he hated he-

"Papa?"

Satoru hears before he sees, the door swinging open ever so slightly to showcase a pair of eyes, your eyes, meekly looking at him. Your eyes in his face but it's not you neither is it him, it's neither you or him but it's both you and him. It's so conflicting.

"What is it?" His voice softer than he wanted it, harsher than expected.

"I just wanted to show you the drawing I made today in class." Her voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she slowly walks up to him, a rolled up paper carefully held in one tiny fist. She was so small, so tiny, so quiet, so utterly disgusting. Placing it down flat ever so quietly on the table, she takes a step back "It's you, me and...mama" she mumbles, pointing at the three stick figures accordingly.

Satoru pulls his blindfold up and narrows his eyes at the stick figure that was apparently you, your hair was wrong, the color, the length, the very style was wrong. "I-I don't know how mama looks like" she admits, tiny hands grabbing onto her shirt as she looks down.

"Of course, you don't. You killed her, sucked her life-force right out like a fucking parasite" he thinks bitterly to himself, fingers grazing over the paper. Everything was wrong, this whole situation was wrong, but the crudely drawn smile on your face wasn't. The smile wasn't, your smile wasn't. The edges of the crayon smile was raised just perfectly, you smiled just like that, always did even when he-

"Papa?" She calls out, eyes peeking through the soft tufts of arctic white hair- Satoru clears his throat, quietly re-adjusting his blindfold before nodding quickly "it's good, good job." He says, fingers gently outlining the curve of the crayon smile- it's what you would've said to her had you been the one in his place so it's what he'll say to her in your place. "You may leave now"

And don't ever come back.

She nods, reaching out for her drawing but Satoru shakes his head, tugging it closer to him which earns him a surprised reaction, something hopeful glinting in her eyes as she nods and quietly scurries out the door. He sighs when the door closes with a click, standing up and rummaging through his office for a spare frame. You'd have framed it and gushed about it had you been there but you weren't so the least he could do was frame it, he's framing it because it's what you would've done, it's what you would've wanted him to do.

He can't love her for you, he loves you and he'd do anything for you but loving her for you? He can't do that, he's more selfish than that.

Satoru sighs as he carefully puts the drawing in the frame, it's what you would've wanted, it's what you would've done. So he'll do it for you because it's you that loved her.

____________________________________________________________

THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM FINALLY BACK! I ALSO FOUND A PARTTIME JOB! YAY! Gonna take a lot to buy a new laptop though so wish me luck!

Masterlist

[cloudstrky]

After Sun - rafe cameron smau

ch 5: best friend's sister

tags: best friend's brother!rafe, f2l, older!rafe,

warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol

an: this part is written sorry if u don't like that :( really wanted this scene written out but im literally shit at writing so i hope it doesn't give u the ick

mlst

Rafe Cameron was having fun. Scratch that, Rafe Cameron was having a blast. You, on the other hand, not so much. It didn't take long to convince Sarah to go to the country club with you after seeing that picture of Rafe. Selfishly, you wanted to grab his attention and prevent him from having another random fling. Sarah was just down for the drama.

You didn't expect to spot him so quickly. You half expected him to already be locked away in some room. You also half wished he was in a room after seeing the way he was pressing the girl from the picture against the wall.

His big hands on her thighs, her toned arms around his neck. God, this felt like torture.

"Do you want to leave?" Sarah asked as soon as she spotted him.

Yes.

"No," you sighed, turning to her. "This is what we came for right?"

Sarah smiled before grabbing your hand and pulling you further into the club, towards an empty table. "So what's the plan?"

You had an even better view of Rafe from your table. You could see every muscle in his arms flexing as his hands ran up and down the girls body. You couldn't be more jealous of a person.

"So," you said, tearing your eyes away from them. "I need to find someone to entertain."

"Easy," Sarah said, pointing at numerous guys before you even had a chance to look around the room.

"You're more eager than I am." You laughed, glancing over your choices. The truth was, no one was coming close to beating Rafe. No one could even count as competition.

"No fucking way," Sarah gasped, "Tyler."

Your eyes widened, looking over to where Sarah was pointing. "No fucking way Sar!"

"PLEASE!" She yelled, grabbing you by the shoulders. "You know how much this is going to annoy Rafe!"

"Sar he hates him!" You yelled back before turning to look at Tyler. "Although he has gotten seriously hot."

Rafe was known for being a hot-headed teenager and an even more hot-headed adult. He was mostly liked, or at the very least respected throughout high school, but he had certain people he just couldn't stand (and they couldn't stand him).

He and Tyler were rivals in high school since they were both captains of the two rival basketball teams. You remember Rafe being on the verge of expulsion after a game because Tyler had elbowed him so hard on the nose that he had to sit the rest of the game out and so when the game was over, he performed a tit-for-tat show, punching Tyler in the face.

They were both older now and more mature, but the hatred didn't seem to slip away with the years. Just last year, they had gotten into a fight at the beach, and you had stepped in because Topper was too busy oiling up a girl blissfully. You remember Tyler had been very respectful of your presence and had walked away immediately, although Rafe had been the one to step away first.

So yes, Tyler would be the perfect candidate for your evil plan to work, but he also would be the lowest blow.

"Yn, you know this is the best timing ever." Sarah was almost shaking with excitement. You were almost shaking with anxiety. What if your plan didn't work and instead all you could manage to do was make Rafe hate you?

"Isn't this low Sar?"

"You know what's low? Topper making out with Allison. There's no way my brother doesn't know. Tit for tat. Now, wave him over before I do."

You sighed, looking back at Tyler. He was already looking in your direction, so you quickly took your chance to wave him over. He was skeptical for a second before letting his friend know he'd be right back.

You watched him make your way over to you and watched as Sarah slipped away slowly, giving you the thumbs up.

"Yn," he yelled over the loud music as he reached your table. "Hey!"

"Hi, Tyler!" You smiled before he pulled you in for a half hug. "Sorry I waved you over, I was just shocked to see you." You made up a quick lie as you both pulled away from the hug.

He smiled for a moment, taking you in before looking around the club, "You here alone?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, actually, I'm here with Sarah. Remember her?"

"Cameron's sister, yeah." His eyes moved back to you as his smile returned to his face. "Well, you've certainly grown."

"College treating me well, you see." You blushed, almost forgetting about your plan and why you were talking to him in the first place.

"You're in college now, huh?" he sighed in disbelief, "Are you drinking anything?"

Now he was getting to the point. You looked around and you felt your heart race as you caught Rafe staring at you from across the room. The girl was gone from his arms and a beer had taken her place in his right hand as he was leaning against a wall, talking to someone. He looked so pretty in his striped shirt, the first few buttons now undone, giving you a full view of his toned torso and his shiny chain. His hair, slightly wet over his forehead from the warmth of the summer night. His eyes burnt holes into you before focusing on Tyler.

You snapped your head back towards Tyler, "A lemon vodka would be nice."

He grinned, nodding swiftly. "I'll be right back."

You watched him leave and head towards the bar for a moment before your eyes were searching for Rafe again.

You found him still staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. You gave him a short smile and a weak wave. You knew he didn't want you here. You had asked if you could come, and he had said no, so you were already overstepping before even talking to Tyler. You saw him give you a confused look before taking a sip of his beer. You furrowed your brows at him, mimicking his expression, and he rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the person who was talking. He thought that was the last of your interaction with Tyler.

As soon as you turned your head away to look for Sarah, Rafe's eyes were back on you. Now that he knew you were here, he couldn't get you out of his mind, and so he wouldn't let you out of his sight.

"I'm just not interested in paying 2m's for a fucking boat y'know?"

No, Rafe didn't know. He had stopped listening seven minutes ago when he spotted you across the room. "Yeah, man, definitely," he answered mindlessly, something that didn't seem to phase the speaker because he kept rambling on, saying his piece.

Rafe watched as you looked around the room. He watched as your black open-back mini dress stopped dangerously high on your hips. He watched as the dip of the open back lingered dangerously low on your spine. Watched as your hair moved flawlessly around with the summer breeze, watched as your fingers anxiously snaked around your gold bracelets, and watched as Tyler came back with your drinks.

Rafe was sure he hadn't felt so angry in ages. Probably since he crashed his back four summers ago. Or maybe seven summers ago, when he was forced to sit out the most important basketball game of his life, causing him to lose the scholarship he so badly wanted because a certain rival had decided to do everything in his power to secure a scholarship.

So, in other words, Rafe was fuming. He watched as you took the drink from him with a big smile. The sound of his heart racing and his blood boiling overshadowing every other sound around him.

Clueless to what was going on around you, he watched you take a sip. He had to stop himself from racing over to you and snatching that drink from your hands.

"Excuse me," he said to the guy next to him, who was left confused as he watched Rafe walk away.

He pushed through the crowd, ignoring people calling his name.

"Party's over, let's go." Rafe's voice sent shivers down your spine. His tone has never been like that around you. His voice, soft and silky, was always a sound you cherished. And it couldn't be more different than his voice now, low and threatening.

"Rafe," you breathed as you turned to look at him. His eyes dark and heavy, show and tell that he had been partying.

"I think it just started, man." Tyler spoke, a massive grin plastered across his face.

Rafe didn't turn to look at him. "Yn." His voice was firm. With the beer in his hand long gone, he reached out his right hand to touch your lower back gently. His rough hands firm but soft on your exposed skin made you shiver unwillingly. Regret was quick to wash over you as you realized how low you had stepped because of your jealousy.

"I think she wants to stay, brother." Tyler rasped from next to you. His hand gently pushed your hair out of your face as he leaned in closer, "Don't you?"

If Rafe hadn't been pushed over the edge, he was now.

"Get your fucking hand off her." He growled, shoving Tyler's hand away.

Tyler taken aback, took a step forward.

"Walk away." Rafe rasped pulling you closer.

"Rafey, let's go." You turned towards him, leaving your drink on the table.

Rafe's eyes softened at the sound of your voice. He could feel his hand burning at the bottom of your spine. He guided you away from Tyler before he could get a word in. All you heard was a loud scoff and something about the drink.

The walk out of the club was tense. His hand on your lower back made you feel as if you were on fire. His breath hitting the back of your neck pointedly, smelling of beer and mint. You didn't even notice you were shaking until you stepped completely off the club's terrace and headed towards the parking.

Rafe's hand was gone in a heartbeat once you entered the parking area. He walked behind you in silence, the hand that was touching you flexing by his side, aching to get rid of the burning sensation.

"Rafe-"

"Get in the car, Yn." His voice was firm. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, observing him as he stepped around the car and into the driver's seat.

You followed and got into the passenger's seat. He didn't start the car, and so the silence became so thick you felt like you were choking.

"Sarah is also here..." You said weakly, scared of his silence.

"Fucking great."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and you watched as he texted Topper. He locked the screen and threw his phone on the dashboard. His head fell back on the headrest, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

"Rafe-" you tried again.

"Are you into him?" he finally asked, looking over at you. His features tired and dark and filled with confusion.

"What?" you muttered, unsure of what he actually meant.

"Or do you hate me?" his voice was raspy. The firmness was long gone, and exhaustion had taken its place.

"Rafe what are you-"

"Do what you fucking want doll. Have JJ. Have Tyler. Fucking have them both. But don't do it in front of me because I won't stand for it." He breathed heavily. "You know how hard it was for me to not break his slimy fucking hand?"

You were at a loss for words. Your hands still shaky, adrenaline rushing through your body so quickly, making it hard to breathe. He looked desperate. His eyes tore away from you as he started the engine.

You reached out, your small hand grabbing his. He pulled away as if you burned him and got out of the car. You stayed still, your eyes wide. You had never seen Rafe like that before. His back was turned to you but you could tell from the way it moved he was breathing heavily. You turned back and looked out of your window, deciding to give him space.

Seconds later, he was back in the car. The way home seemed longer than it was. His eyes didn't roam, and neither did yours. You kept looking out the window until he pulled into the driveway of the summer house. Neither of you moved and after a minute of silence, you undid your belt.

The tension was thick. You had never felt so claustrophobic before in your life. You knew what you did was wrong but you didn't think it'd bother him this much. Or perhaps you did.

"You're my best friend's sister. So please, doll, don't make it so fucking hard for me."

And then he was out of the car.

[bestanimal]

~ Round 1 is currently underway, with Mollusca in the lead! ~

On a quest to find Tumblr’s favorite animal!

(Pictured is my personal favorite animal: the bearded vulture! Photo was taken by me… if you want to see more I post my photography on my instagram: SaritaWolf ;P)

Ever wondered how your favorite animal stacks up against other people’s favorites? Well you’ve come to the right place!

Here’s how this will work…

Polls will be ranked like so:

My fav is in this group!/This is one of my favorite animals!

I love these/this animal(s)

I like these/this animal(s)

I am neutral about these/this animal(s)

I dislike these/this animal(s)

I hate these/this animal(s)

If an animal is your favorite, it receives 5 points

If you love an animal, it receives 3 points

If you like an animal, it receives 1 point

If you are neutral about an animal, no points are added or subtracted to its ranking

If you dislike an animal, 1 point will be taken away

If you hate an animal, 3 points will be taken away

At the end of a polling period, that animal’s points will be its rank.

The top 20 or 50 or 100 or whatever (number to be decided on at a later date) will move on to the next round!

Polls will be open for 7 days

Since it’s not very feasible for me to make 1.5 million polls for every known species of animal, the first round of polls will be by Phylum, the next round will be by Class, then Order, then Family, then Genus, and then Species.

If you want your favs to make it to the top, make sure you know what group they’re in! This can be found via a quick Wikipedia search and a look-see right here (using the bearded vulture as an example):

The Bearded Vulture is in the Phylum Chordata, the Class Aves/Reptilia, the Order Accipitriformes, and the Genus Gypaetus, so now I know to vote for that group as my favorite when it comes up!

The top ranked Phyla will move on to the next round, where they will then be split into Classes, and Round 2 will begin.

Round 3 will take the winning classes and split them by Order, then follow the same pattern.

Round 4 will take the winning orders and split them by Family, then follow the same pattern.

Round 5 will take the winning families and split them by Genus, then follow the same pattern.

Round 6 will take the winning genera and split them by Species, then follow the same pattern.

The Ultimate Round will pit the top 20/50/100 (number also to be decided at a later date) species against each other.

If no clear photos exist of a species, it will not be included in the polls. (So, if you’re a scientist who just discovered a new moth and it’s your favorite animal you better get those photos on iNaturalist quick)

You can have multiple favorites, I am not keeping track of that, but I do ask that you answer honestly!

I will add a bit of propaganda under a cut on each poll, but please feel free to reblog polls and add your own! If you want your fav(s) to win, these polls need to be seen by lots of people!

I do encourage people to not vote blindly. Look at the photos, read the propaganda, maybe even do your own research before you decide how you feel about an animal!

And lastly, please keep things civil! We all have different tastes and someone hating your fav is not a personal affront against you!

That being said, we do not “Kill it with fire” here. It’s ok to not like an animal, but we do not tolerate people calling for violence against a species or wishing a whole species extinct.

Important Tags:

#Animal Polls: All main polls

#Poll Results: Completed polls will be reblogged along with their calculated ranking

#Special Poll: Any extra polls

#Extra Propaganda: Any reblogged propaganda added by voters

#Statistics: A stats post will be posted after each round

#Asks: For any responses to asks (my askbox is open!)

#FAQ: For questions that may come up often

#Extras: For any announcement posts, reblogs, etc

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.