#tagging all these assholes is going to be the death of me there's so many tags

[lucabyte]

🐮

[nehswritesstuffs]

Baratie: Home to Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin - Part 4

My apologies on this taking so damn long--a lot has gone down in the not-quite-month it’s taken to update. Some good, some bad, but hey... here’s some more cute af dopamine hits for ya.

First chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Prior chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

As the kids all get on without a hitch, their adults acknowledge that there’s a lot more to this than they’d like to admit, not as though that’d change anything. [4590 words]

“So, you honestly had no idea he even existed until he showed up on the Baratie?” Usopp mused. He took a sip of his tea and glanced over at the kids, who were playing nearby. It was well after dinner and he and Zoro were getting the entire story from Sanji and Zeff up in their private residence while the kids were finally occupied after an afternoon and evening of being too attentive for Adult Talk.

“I mean, I won’t doubt it’s my sister’s kid,” Sanji scowled, “but I’m wondering how in the hell this even happened.”

“She slept with someone and didn’t think before or after until it was too late,” Zoro shrugged. Sanji backhanded his shoulder and scoffed.

“It’s not like my sister to not think and calculate out everything to at least five different eventualities,” he scolded. “She must have known Asido was a possibility from the start—before she even took the father to bed—and if he’s here, that means she wanted him… wanted to protect him…”

“What bothers me is that I thought your sperm donor was a medical field nutbag—wouldn’t he have discovered what was going on?” Zeff scoffed.

“Judge knows how to rape a woman until she’s pregnant, then what to do to change the Lineage Factor of her unborn children,” Sanji grimaced. “If it weren’t for the former, it wouldn’t surprise me if the bastard thinks a baby pops out of a woman’s navel and that she pisses from her vagina. My brothers are right up there with him, considering they wouldn’t know what a G-spot is if their unemotional lives depended on it.”

“Only if ‘G’ stands for ‘genocide’,” Usopp cringed. None of the other adults refuted that and he wasn’t entirely certain if it made him feel better or worse. “The offer to sic my wife on them still stands.”

“It’d pay to watch that,” Zoro chortled. “She’d tear them apart in thirty seconds, and that’s as a doctor and not as a hormonal mess. There’d be nothing left for Chopper.”

“…or Kureha, or Law, or Marco, or…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Sanji scoffed. He looked over at the kids again—the twins were now perched on the taller kids’ shoulders and slap-fighting—and felt a chill run down his spine. “Asido being here changes a lot of shit, doesn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Usopp shrugged. “Kids do have a way of shifting peoples’ priorities. Being a dad is weird as hell, but it’s rewarding when you boil it all down.”

“Usopp, you’re a dad—I’m just the kid’s uncle.”

“Then why’s he with you and not him, eh?” Zeff and Zoro both wisely pretended to take long droughts from their drinks, avoiding being dragged in. “If you had asked me when we first met if in less than ten years we’d be here now—the crew of the Pirate King—then I would have agreed. Had you asked if in the same amount of time I was going to be married to the gal of my dreams, waiting on Kid Number Four, putting aside being the Dread Captain Usopp for making sure that hair gets braided properly and skinned knees and hurt fingers get kisses as well as bandages? I would have laughed in your face, impressed by your lies!” He watched Sanji’s face fall as the blond seemed to go inwards towards his own thoughts. “Hey, Sanji, being a dad is great, even if it ends up being for a short while. At least you have one of the best babysitters in the East here now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Zoro scowled. “You mean to tell me that you’re kicking me out? Already? Merry doesn’t have down her katas yet.”

“That’s part of what my wife wants to avoid,” Usopp deadpanned.

“Your wife can say that to my face.”

“You two are both fucking idiots,” Sanji groaned. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that the oncoming headache wasn’t going to be a nasty one.

“Dad…?!” The four men all looked at Merry, who was standing rather still on the other side of the room despite the slap-fight that was still going on above her. “Why does Asido talk funny?”

“No I don’t!” Asido insisted. “You’re all the ones who talk funny!”

“You all talk funny,” Zoro shouted back at the child, not giving Usopp a chance to respond. “You all sound like a bunch of babies!”

“Asshole!” Merry shouted, sticking out her tongue. Zoro laughed, Sanji and Zeff stared, while Usopp immediately snapped into full-form.

“Merry! What did Mom say about grown-up words?!”

“Mom’s not here!”

“Yeah, and she’s still going to find out, and you want to know who’s going to get into trouble? Me! Not Uncle Sanji and his staff, not Mister Zeff, not the moron who taught you that word, but me! I don’t want to get into trouble!”

Merry pouted for a moment, then turned to Asido. “Just so you know: Dad’s a chicken-shit.”

“Merry!”

“It’s true!”

“That doesn’t mean you can always say it!” Usopp let his head fall to the table, where he wallowed in a mire of depression. “My own daughter… betraying me the first chance she gets…”

“At least they all get on,” Zeff mentioned. “When is Kaya due? We can have a sleepover for Asido and the girls, I think, to keep them from getting underfoot.”

“In about four months,” Usopp admitted. “Chopper already told me he was stopping by here first, then coming over to Syrup to stay until the baby’s born like he did with the others.” He paused and lifted his head so he could properly look at Sanji. “How long do you think you’ll have him here?”

“We aren’t talking about that yet,” Sanji said. He glanced over at Zoro, who seemed to be taking the statement in stride. “I think we can renegotiate once the geezer’s closer to being cleared by Chopper.”

“Fine by me,” the swordsman shrugged. “I’m not a fancy tutor, but I think I can keep him occupied.”

“How, I’ll never know,” Sanji deadpanned.

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Usopp said. “When I said he’s great with the girls, I meant it a hundred percent. You don’t have to worry about a thing. The lack of worry is probably part of why Kaya’s pregnant again, to be honest.”

“I think I like you better when you’re lying out your ass,” Zeff quipped. Sanji couldn’t help but snicker, while Zoro saw one of the twins yawn, taking that as his cue.

“Alright you gremlins—time to get ready for bed,” he said as he stood up. Montie and Lea both climbed down from their respective perches and bounced over to Zoro with their arms up. He snatched them both, one in each arm, before glancing over at Asido. “Lead the way, kid; you know where your room is.”

Asido looked at Sanji for permission and got a silent nod. “Y-Yeah. Okay.” He took Merry by the hand and led them out into the corridor. The door clicked shut and Usopp let out a sigh of relief.

“Let me help you clean up,” the long-nosed man said. Sanji tried to swat his hand away from the dishes, but he resisted, successfully able to grab the plates and carted them down after the chef as he brought the rest of the dishes on a tray into the kitchen. There was only a couple of the junior-level chefs left finishing the cleaning, though with their temporary boss there and looking rather irritated, they decided it was time to take their break.

“I did this all the time with the crew; I think I can handle it now,” Sanji said wearily. Usopp simply shook his head and grabbed a towel.

“Uh-huh—I’ll dry.”

“Fine.”

The pair worked in silence for a while, washing and drying in tandem, before Sanji let out a loud, long sigh.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, his voice betraying his weariness. “This is ridiculous.”

“Not as much as you’d might think,” Usopp shrugged. He accepted a rinsed plate and wiped it dry, placing it in the stack. “I… I know you and Zoro didn’t part on the best of terms, but…”

“…you should have told me.”

“You would have called it off.”

“I think I’d be within my rights.”

“What happened to having no room to be picky?”

Silence permeated the kitchen eerily.

“Listen: he told me what went down between the two of you.” More silence. “I don’t care about that—never have and never will—but you have to suck it up and move past it. What happens if Luffy comes back next week? Will the both of you still be able to function like you should?”

“If Luffy comes back next week, I’m going to have to tell him I have a kid now.”

“Luffy would kidnap you both if he thought it was the best solution.” Usopp finished the stack of dishes and placed them in the cupboard. “Maybe getting Asido was meant to be… you know… a way to get the two of you to find common ground again.”

“We won’t find common ground,” Sanji muttered. “We will, to a point, but then it will be the same old shit. Bringing your dad would have honestly been a better option.”

“Well, if anything he’ll at least be good for the kid,” Usopp shrugged. “I’m sure of that much.”

“…and why’s that?”

“If he’s good enough to handle my daughters, then he can handle your nephew. Give it a bit, alright? If he’s not working out by the time the girls come back for the sleepover, then we’ll take him back to Syrup to help with the baby.”

“Fine.” He heard the door open and the two junior chefs return from their break. “We’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

“If you say so,” Usopp shrugged. The pair went upstairs, arriving on their floor just as Zoro was quietly closing the door to Asido’s room. “They go down okay?”

“Like a dream.” The swordsman then looked at Sanji, his expression implacable. “Which room is mine again?”

“That one,” he said, pointing at the one directly next to Asido’s. “I’ll label it, if you need me to.”

“Fuck off.” Zoro disappeared behind the door, leaving Usopp to shake his head.

“Just… consider what I said,” the sniper tutted. He went into his room; now Sanji was alone. He pressed his ear to Asido’s door, hearing faint whispers. Opening it a crack, he listened to Asido and Merry think they were talking quietly.

“So it’s just you and Uncle Sanji?” Merry asked.

“Well, and my mom, but she’s not here.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“What about your dad?”

“I think he’s dead—Mom doesn’t talk about him, and Uncle Sanji and Grandpa Zeff haven’t said anything.”

“…dead like Uncle Luffy…?”

“I thought you said Uncle Luffy was just missing.”

“The grown-ups all say he’s missing, but I don’t know. I feel like ‘missing’ is something that people say when they don’t want to tell the truth.” There was a small pause, where Montie let out a loud snore. “Maybe, that’s what we can do when we’re grown-ups.”

“What…?”

“Find out what happened to Uncle Luffy, of course! We can sail the seas like my dad and our aunts and uncles did! See new places and meet new people! And then, we can find Uncle Luffy! Maybe we can even find your dad!”

“What if Uncle Luffy comes back on his own? What if we can’t find anything?”

“We won’t know until we try!”

Sanji’s heart ached as he exhaled heavily and opened the door. The two children gasped and tried to hide under the blankets, though they didn’t fool him. “I thought I heard voices.” He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as the kids both smiled while pretending to sleep. “I guess no one in here needs goodnight kisses?”

“I do!” Asido insisted, immediately bolting upwards.

“I didn’t know you gave goodnight kisses!” Merry gasped at the same time.

“Then both of you lay down nice and try to get some sleep, hmm…?” Both children complied and Sanji gave them each a kiss on the forehead. “Better?”

“Uh-huh,” they both murmured.

“Now go to sleep, little ones,” he said gently. They both closed their eyes and he watched them for a few more minutes, all four children in the bed asleep by the time he walked out the door. It took all the energy he had to drag himself into his room and change into pajamas before flopping down on his bed in defeat.

How was he going to survive this?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

In his dream, Zoro knew he was drowning.

He was nineteen again, having just challenged Mihawk and lost. After falling into the ocean, all he did was sink deeper, and deeper, and deeper. He looked to his left and saw that Wado Ichimonji had floated out of his hand. It was blurry, the white scabbard and hilt moving farther away.

‘I failed.’

The faint sound of splashing water reached his ears and before he realized it, he was being tugged upwards, towards the surface. Blond hair became an underwater halo, still hiding a piercing eye bluer than both the sea and sky. He didn’t register the fact that it had been two entirely different people hauling him up when these events had been real—in fact, for all he knew…

Waking up, Zoro found that he was not, in fact, nineteen again and drowning. He was still at the Baratie, but in a soft and comfortable bed. A toddler fell off his chest and into his lap as he sat up, giggling all the way.

“Lea, we’ve been through this,” he groaned. “No sitting on Zoro-oji while he’s sleeping.”

“It’s morning!” the girl stated, as though that absolved her.

“Uh-huh. And where’s your sisters? Your dad?”

“I dunno!”

“Well, let’s find them, alright?”

“Okay!”

The girl waited until the green-haired man swung his legs out of bed before she held up her hand, ready to go exploring. She pulled him along directly into the corridor, where there was not a soul to be seen. Something vaguely tickled the back of his brain about the kids being on the end of the corridor, so they started heading in that direction, only for Usopp to scare the bloody hell out of him as a door wildly swung open next to him.

“There you are!” he gasped, relieved. He scooped his daughter up and gave his crewmate a tired look. “I’m gonna miss the help corralling them, that’s for sure.”

“You’re the one who pimped me out to Curls,” Zoro reminded him.

He followed Usopp into the kids’ room to find that it was not a pleasant picture. Although Merry was attempting to instruct Asido in how to braid her hair, both children still in their pajamas and calm, it was Montie who decided that she was not going to wear clothes that day, and was running completely starkers around the room. Lea wiggled free from Usopp’s grasp and landed on the floor with a thud, and joined her twin in her reign of terror.

“Remember this when Kaya says something about how it’s good Merry’s no longer doing katas,” Zoro grumbled. He snatched the naked, wriggling toddler mid-stride, eventually holding her aloft by the ankles as he searched one-handed through their overnight bag. “You’re wearing clothes today, you little gremlin, whether you like it or not.”

“Zoro-oji mean!”

“Zoro-oji knows from experience that you need to wear clothes, or you’ll freeze and then die and then nothing will ever get done.” He then wrestled her into some clothes, which was admittedly not as difficult as it could have been, holding her up by the armpits once he was done. She was in a little dress, yet her hair was a giant mass of waves as she kicked her feet in desperation. “Are we doing a braid today?”

“I want all braids! Like Daddy!”

“Not until you learn how to sit still, young lady,” Usopp chided. He was already running a brush through Lea’s hair, the girl sitting calmly as her father sat crosslegged on the floor with her in his lap. “How are you two doing over there? Merry? Asido?”

“He’s not very good,” Merry said plainly. Asido’s face turned red.

“I don’t have long hair to do this with!” he defended. “Mom doesn’t have long hair either!”

“Your mom’s hair also is more like Montie’s than like Merry’s, so it behaves different in braids,” Zoro said idly. He held Montie in place with his legs and he brushed through her hair, smoothing it out before quickly putting it into a plait down her back. Once the ribbon was tied, she broke free, leaving the swordsman to beckon the eldest children over. “Come on—let a pro show you how it’s done.”

The two four-year-olds scrambled over to Zoro and Merry plopped herself directly in his lap, with Asido relinquishing the brush. Zoro then undid the bits of braid that the boy already did, his larger hands working quick to untangle the strands. Asido watched intently, making their adult chuckle.

“You’re very interested in this for someone who never has to do it,” he noted, voice gentle. Asido shrugged.

“It’s… different.”

“It is.” He glanced over at Usopp, who had an eyebrow raised. “Is that the only reason?”

“No—we heard you and the other adults talking about how we’re cousins now, and we’re gonna have a sleepover,” the boy said. “That means Merry would come over again, and then I can help her get ready, ‘cause she says her hair’s hard to do by herself.”

“It’s worse when your hands are little, yeah, but it’s not bad. I’ll still be here to help, so you won’t have to worry.”

“Zoro-oji’s almost as good as Mom and Dad!” Merry beamed.

“Only because I helped your dad so much when we were sailing together, right Usopp?” The other adult in the room shuddered as he put Lea’s hair in small puffs.

“Sanji and Robin were the best—you tugged too much.”

“Got all my practice in on you so now I’m excellent,” Zoro bragged.

“Yeah, yeah; you and your sausage-fingers.”

“Fuck off.” Usopp shot Zoro a glare and he chuckled. “You’re just trying to take advantage of the facts I’m still half asleep and swordless.”

“Maybe I should be glad I’m dumping you—be Sanji’s problem now.”

“You make me sound like an unwanted animal.” Merry and Asido both giggled. “See if I babysit for you again.”

“Uh-huh—one look at their pouts and you’re eating your words.”

Zoro did not respond to that, instead continuing to untangle Merry’s hair and divide it in half so he could give her twin braids. Once her hair was in place, he patted the top of her head and she gave him a hug before getting her clothes out of their bag. With hair done, Usopp and Zoro both grabbed a twin and left the older two to finish getting ready, each hauling their respective small child to Zeff’s room, where the elderly chef was already reading the paper as he sat at the table.

“There goes my peace and quiet,” he grumbled. He watched as they both sat the toddlers on their booster-seat-aided chairs, hoping they would stay still. “Sure you want to give the moss up?”

“If I come back with Zoro, after leaving while promising I was dropping Zoro off, I might not be allowed back into the house,” Usopp deadpanned. He accepted part of the newspaper and gave a warning glare to Lea, who was threatening to slide out of her chair. Once the girl straightened, he looked at the photo that dominated the page: Reiju and her new husband. “You want to know who’s probably having a field day with this?”

“I give up.”

“No idea.”

“Shakky.” Zoro stared emptily at him and he sighed. “You know? Ray’s wife? Bar owner? On Sabaody? The Queen of Information? You know she had Sanji figured out with one look.”

“That viper wouldn’t know good intel if it bit her on the tit,” Zeff bristled, fluffing out his portion of the paper in a huff. Usopp and Zoro both looked at him in shock.

“Do we even want to know?” Usopp cringed.

“Do we even want to know what?” They all looked over towards the door and thank fuck it was Sanji with breakfast. Merry and Asido ran in after him, rushing to their seats before the blond set the serving tray down.

“Zeff knows Shakky and doesn’t like that he does,” Zoro clarified. Sanji stared at his foster father and cringed.

“Okay, I really don’t want to know,” the blond shivered. He started doling out breakfasts—Thousand Sunny lion-face pancakes for the kids and the adults getting scrambled eggs mixed with all manner of cheese, veggies, and bacon, with a side of potatoes. He caught the photo on Usopp’s page of the paper before the other man folded it inwards and passed it back to Zeff. “Related to that, I take it?”

“Related to what?” Asido asked. “Who is Shakky? And Ray?”

“Dad says they’re kinda like Uncle Luffy’s grandparents, but I’ve never met Uncle Luffy, so I’ve never asked him,” Merry said.

“Who is Uncle Luffy anyhow? All I know is that he’s not here, but you talk like he should be.”

“Uncle Luffy is our captain,” Zoro stated. The other adults were quiet, letting Zoro take the lead. “Uncle Sanji, Uncle Usopp, and I all sailed with him and the rest of the crew well before you were born. He has a habit of disappearing.”

“When was the last time someone saw him?”

“At Uncle Usopp and Aunt Kaya’s wedding, before Merry was born.” He shoveled some food in his mouth and chewed, thinking. “That’s actually the last time we saw a lot of people.”

“Don’t remind me—I’m still getting grief from the villagers,” Usopp sighed.

“No one likes Granpappy,” Merry whispered loudly to Asido.

“Merry,” her father warned. “Be nice.”

“It’s true!”

“True isn’t always nice.”

“…but it’s true…”

“No talking about Granpappy at the table, alright?” Usopp knew it was more of an order, not a suggestion, but he also had to be firm with her. “We actually want you to be allowed back for that sleepover, and you won’t be if you don’t behave.”

“Fine,” the girl sighed dramatically before popping a bit of fruit into her mouth. Zeff tried not to laugh as he drank some of his coffee, giving Usopp a knowing look.

“Your eldest has got some spirit—reminds me of the eggplant when he was little,” he chuckled. “Watch out for that one.”

“That sounds like something I did not want to hear,” Usopp deadpanned. “Come on girls, hurry up or you won’t get to play some more before we head out.”

At that, all four children began to eat quickly, rushing out soon as their plates were cleared. Their adults all seemed to let out a collective sigh of not only relief, but of dread as well.

“You sure you want them back?” Usopp wondered. “There’s no shame in backing out.”

“A kid needs friends his own age or they’ll end up like this maladjusted shit,” Zeff said, gesturing at Sanji.

“I’m picking your fucking care home this afternoon, old man.”

“Considering how you’re handling this crisis, I’m willing to hedge my bets.”

Usopp and Zoro both avoided laughing as the two chefs continued sniping at one another, knowing that any amount of vitriol that passed between them was leagues weaker than whatever the fuck it was that kept them together. If there were any two that expressed their familial love with such levels of sarcasm and spite, it was Sanji and Zeff, and it wasn’t like the other two were going to point any of it out.

The rest of breakfast passed as such—it wasn’t as though things were going to change any time soon.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Merry was adamant that she didn’t want to leave her new cousin and super-best-friend. She was so adamant, in fact, that she decided to lay down on the back deck of the Baratie, refusing to move as her father loaded her sisters into their ship. Asido crouched down next to her, poking her shoulder, while Zoro and Sanji were helping secure the twins and pack their bentos, respectively.

“Been a while since she’s thrown a fit like that,” Zoro noted. He made sure that Montie’s backpack leash was securely fastened to the mast and let the toddler go, the child bouncing excitedly at the prospect of going home to see her mother. “Does the sprout do things like that?”

“Honestly? I haven’t had him long enough to know for sure.” Sanji watched the scene play out, wondering what his heart would do if his nephew were ever the one in Merry’s position. “I sure hope I don’t fuck this up.”

“Relax,” Usopp assured. “The kid’s in great hands. By the time the girls come back, you’ll have the hang of this, won’t he Zoro?”

“He’s as pissy as the geezer, so something tells me he’ll be fine,” the green-haired man replied. Sanji threw him an irritated glare and he laughed. “Hey, it’s why I’m here, right? In case shit goes down?”

“You wish.” Sanji then glanced towards the two children remaining on the deck and sighed. “I’ll get her.” He hopped onto the deck and walked over to the four-year-olds, his nephew looking up at him in concern.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be; now up you go.” Sanji tried to pick the girl up, but she resisted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa… you’re acting like I want to throw you overboard in a storm.”

“I wanna stay with Asido,” Merry pouted. “It’s fun having someone my size around.”

“You’ll be back to play before you realize it,” Sanji reminded her. She whimpered as she clung to Asido, giving him a tight hug. The boy did not really know how to respond and looked to his uncle for guidance. After watching the man nod, Asido hugged back, which seemed to placate Merry. “Now come on; time to go.”

“Okay…” Merry walked hand-in-hand with Asido as the three went over to the ship. Now on the deck, Zoro hefted her up and passed her to Usopp, who balanced her on his hip.

“Promise you’ll behave?” Zoro asked. Merry nodded with a sniffle. “Good girl.”

“Have a bunch of fun stories for our sleepover!” Asido insisted. Sanji picked him up and placed him on his shoulders, putting the children at nearly eye-level. The kids both reached for each other, locking their pinkies in a promise.

“I will if you will!” Merry replied. Usopp then pulled her back and placed her down on the deck.

“Time to go back to Mom. Go ahead and wave bye while I’m busy, okay?”

Taking her job seriously, Merry watched as her father let the sail unfurl and began to pull out of the dock. She waved as they sailed away, with Sanji, Asido, and Zoro doing the same from their spot. Once the small ship was out of sight, the two men looked at one another and frowned.

“Let’s get this over with, I guess,” Sanji scowled. Zoro flipped him the middle finger—yeah, just like old times.

[hazelfoureyes]

A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

[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!~

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

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

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

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

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

Unless that villager was you, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the day Hongjoong knew he loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————

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.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 3/?

I love writing this so much, it's not going to be a quick thing for sure. I'm thinking and plotting constantly. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn, stiches

Wordcount: 2675

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Silence fills the apartment.

For a few moments.

“Red, I am going to kill you.”

“Wade, I am going to stab you.” Both of you talk at the same time, then glare at the other. You notice that his eyes are a nice shade of hazel, before your gaze snaps to Wade as he speaks.

“Why am I getting the heat for this?!” 

“You ran.” You and Flannel say in unison, glaring at each other again. His hand is still on your neck, warm and solid.

He raises an eyebrow as you reach for your pants, you grab one of your knives out of its hidden sheath, stabbing his shoulder. He grunts with pain, hand clutching at your neck for a moment before pulling it away. You pull your knife back out, before putting it parallel between two of Flannel’s claws, twisting it hard as you can, somewhat pushing his claws further apart. He winches, and the claws retract, allowing you to quickly slide away, and then take a few steps back. You notice there is no trace of where they came from on his knuckles, so this guy must have some sort of healing factor too. 

Fucking great.

“Why are you armed if you came here to meet your soulmate?” He scowls at you.

“Like you can talk, Mr Knuckle Claws.” He growls, fucking growls, and you would mock the absurdity of it, but his claws are coming back out. 

You grab your second knife, spinning them once in your hand, steeling yourself. Flannel lurches forward, one set claws aimed for your throat. You deflect them, your arm almost vibrates with the effort it takes to stop the swinging momentum, but you don’t have time to reflect on it, his other set of claws coming for your left arm. You stop these too, but you don’t have to stop a third or fourth swipe, as Wade drags Flannel backwards by the shoulders, making the man stumble and almost fall.

“Nu uh! No murdering of our soulmate peanut, they don’t have a healing factor!” Flannel huffs, glaring at you again, but his claws retract. 

You want to stab him. 

You are pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

Irritation coming across the bond, if somewhat muted. You also want to stab Wade, because fuck him, you could fight Mr Scowl on your own merit. You don’t sheat your knives yet, staring at them both, hand clenched tight around the handles. Flannel scowls at you.

“Gonna put those away bub?”

“Trying to figure out if I can get to both of your hearts from here.” Flannel snorts.

“For me it takes at least some candles and a nice dinner with gifts, then it’s all yours.” Wade winks at you, you feel your eye twitch in irritation.

Flannel sniffs the air suddenly, nose wrinkling.

“Why do I smell blood?”

“What?” You look down at your chest, suddenly realizing there are wet spots forming on your dark shirt. “Shit.”  You pull the collar away from your skin, looking down and seeing blood trickle slowly from the gauze on your chest.

“Great, popped a fucking stitch. Thank you asshole. Now Evelyn is gonna tear me a new one.”

“Aw pookie, cheating on as already? Tell me, what is she, a nurse that found you on her doorstep and took care of you, and now you make sweet, sweet love like in so many fanfictions?”

“Don’t call me that, and no, you fucking moron, she’s a veterinarian, a friend, and we are both gay in the wrong direction for whatever the fuck kind of fantasy you have in that scarred brain of yours.” You put your knives back in their sheats hidden under your pants, ignoring how two sets of eyes follow the motion.

“I hope you guys got a first aid kit around here somewhere. I assume that the old lady and whoever else you guys have over aren’t all super healers.” Wade and Flannel look at each other.

“I’ll see if I can find anything between Al’s coke in the bedroom.” Wade walks off, leaving you and Flannel alone in the room. It’s not long, maybe a minute, but it lets you feel the confusion coming through your bond from him, and a swirl of other emotions that are hard to identify through the still very fresh bond.

You wonder what he feels from you, as neither of you say anything, just watching the other. A shot of guilt comes through your bond, which makes you scowl at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What?”

“Pretend like you care.”

“You’re our s-”

“Say it and will stab you. I know you probably can’t die, but I will give my best damn try.” He scowls, again, but doesn’t say anything. Wade comes back then, a little red and solid bag with a white plus sign on in one hand. You reach out to take it, but Wade pulls it out of reach for you.

“Give me the damn med kit Wade.”

“Nah ah, better for me to do it, promise I’ll be gentle, done it before.” 

“No, Wade.” He sighs, a second later there’s a gun aimed at you. Where the fuck that even came from, you don’t know. You wouldn’t be surprised if Wade was armed before you even came here though.

“You just stopped Flannel from attacking me, now you are aiming a gun at me?” You tilt your head, and Wade shrugs. Flannel seems frozen, eyes flicking between the two of you, arms tense at his side again.

“His name is Logan, and he would not have made it non-lethal, but I will.” He’s serious, you can tell by the flat tone in his voice, the most level and even it has ever been in the times you have heard him speak. You look into his eyes, a lovely shade of brown that is filled with stony seriousness.

Getting shot would fucking suck.

It would hurt.

It would take forever to heal.

It would make you weak for a good while.

You sigh, rubbing your face, opting for the lesser of two evils. 

You think.

You’re tired.

“Fine.” The gun is moved away, safety clicked on, and tucked into the waistband of Wade’s pants. He takes a few steps away from you, picking up takeaway boxes (that you hadn’t noticed, but to be fair all your attention had been on the other two men) off the dining room table, handing them off to Logan, who takes them to the kitchen. Wade pats the table.

“Up you go pumpkin.” You roll your eyes, too tired and annoyed at your bleeding wounds to tell him to not call you that. You don’t think he will stop. You sit on the table, taking your jacket and shirt off, dumping them on the floor before laying back. Wade whistles, dropping the med kit next to your shoulder as you glare at him.

“Nasty.” 

“Your fucking handiwork.” You tilt your head to look at Logan where he leans in the doorway to the kitchen. “And yours, since I’m bleeding again.” He grimaces, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. A hand brushes against the gauze covering your stomach wound.

“Gonna take this off now.” Wade’s voice is soft, you give him a weird look, but he’s not looking at you, but instead he’s looking at his hand where it lays gently on top of the gauze.

“Yeah, yeah, just get it over with.”

“Hey, consent is sexy.”

“This isn’t-” You stop yourself, grimacing at the feeling of gauze lifting off your blood soaked skin. The wound drips more freely now, blood trickling down onto the table. A blue towel appears next to Wade, Logan is quiet on his feet, you hadn’t even noticed he went anywhere. Wade takes the towel, cleaning up the blood as best he can. The towel is soft against your skin, you watch him for a few seconds before moving your focus to the ceiling. 

Wade leaves the towel on your stomach, gently prodding at the wound. You grimace, the feeling unpleasant.

“This isn’t too bad, you only need two new stitches, pookie.”

“Get on with it then.” You hear the flicker of a lighter, glancing down to see Wade hovering a needle in and out of the flame. You know it’s not going to be as well done as Evelyn’s, but you don’t want to go back there and get an earful. 

Or more likely, yelled at until your whole body feels like it is on fire.

Eyes back to the ceiling, you take a deep breath as you feel Wade’s fingers press just beneath the wound. Then there’s some sort of black cloth, a small towel you are guessing, hovering over your face. You tilt your head to look at Logan, who offers it up with a little shake and a raised brow. You nod, opening your mouth, letting him drop it so you can bite down on it just as the needle pierces your skin.

It’s not a pleasant sensation, so you bite down on the towel, forcing yourself to take measured and deep breaths as you stare at the ceiling, concentrating on a little damp spot you can see in one corner.

What a charming space.

“You know, next time you are shirtless, I hope you are going to be bleeding less.” Wade puts the needle aside, wiping his hand on the towel on your stomach. Next he digs around in the medkit again, taking out supplies to cover his (and Evelyn’s) handiwork. You ignore his comment, closing your eyes and just breathing.

You stay like that as he finishes up, and moves onto your chest wound. Once again, the blood soaked material doesn’t feel great coming off, and neither does Wade’s prodding fingers.

“Two again. Beginning to think that’s your lucky number sweetcheeks.” You groan, moving your arm to smack him, hitting a solid thigh. Wade laughs, and it’s such a bizarre situation, you can feel it through your bond, so it takes actual effort to not smile under the towel in your mouth. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it.” He keeps babbling some more, you tune him out, letting him be background noise as you breathe deeply through your nose as the needle pierces skin again. You flex your fingers and grind your teeth on the towel, willing yourself to stay still to not fuck up Wade’s stitches.

“There we go, all done! Well, almost, I still need to cover my beautiful handiwork, which is a damn shame.” You are not sure if he’s talking about the wound or the stitches, but you don’t care. As he covers it in gauze once more, you take the towel out of your mouth, licking your lips. The towel had soaked up a good deal of moisture from your mouth, so it takes more than a few moments for your mouth to feel normal again. By the time that happens, Wade is done, leaning away from you, gathering up trash, wet towels, and the needle. He takes it away, leaving you and Logan alone again. You sit up on the table, noticing Logan has your shirt in his hand. You reach for it, but he pulls it out of reach from you. Confused, you scrunch your eyebrows. He scrunches up the shirt, one hand in each arms hole, holding the opening for your torso towards you.

“You gotta be kidding me. I’m not that fucking fragile. Let me put my own damn shirt on.” Logan just arches an impressive brow, and you sigh, not willing to fucking wrestle him for your shirt back. Tearing up your stitches again would just be counterintuitive, and you are tired. So you sigh, again, reaching both arms forward.

You let Logan put the shirt on you, you grimace as the mostly dried blood is still present, even if it’s not very visible. The action is weirdly intimate as he stays close afterwards. You let his eyes wander over your face and chest for a few seconds, before you push him away with a boot to his stomach. You could, and you almost do, go for the crotch instead, but you are not certain he wouldn’t actually stab you with his claws if you kicked him in the dick, since Wade isn’t in the room.

“Enough.” Your voice is low, your feelings are a mess, but most of all you are tired. You can’t really make out Logan’s or Wade’s either, it’s all just a jumble in your head now. Christ, you thought having one person sort of in your head was bad, this is just so much messier. Logan hands you your jacket, this one you are allowed (fucking silly as that sounds) to put on by youself. You do it slowly, staring down on the floor, and resolutely not on Logan, or his boots. 

Which is why it’s a short way for your gaze to move as you hear the patter of small paws and claws on the floor, quickly followed by Wade’s pink slippers.

The creature sets itself down at your feet, tail wagging, tongue hanging out. It has mostly grey-brown skin, covered with white tufts of what you think is supposed to be fur. Its eyes are big as it looks up at you, barking once, tongue hanging out of its mouth.

“What the fuck is that thing.” Wade steps forward, bending down to scoop it up.

“That is Dogpool, or Mary Puppins. Say hi!” Wade holds her up to your face, you recoil as much as you can while still seated, as that long tongue tries to lick you.

“Aww, she likes you.” You grimace.

“She’s hideous.” Wade gasps, pressing her close to his chest, pressing a hand over one ear like she can understand you.

“So rude! She’s perfect.” Logan snorts. “Oh shut up you. She takes after her beautiful papa.” You glance down at the cre-, no dog apparently, as you get off the table.

“The dog is uglier.”

“Aw, such a charmer!” You start to walk towards the door, or doorway rather, but are stopped by a hand on your wrist. You look down, and then up at Logan who scowls at you.

“Where the fuck are you going?” 

“Away from here."

“We need to-” 

“We don’t need to do anything. I don’t even know why I came here, I don’t want any of it. Soulmates are messed up, a thing that I don’t care about, a fucking cruel joke of a perverse fucking universe. I’ve seen way too many people get messed up by it all, and I will not be one of them.” You wrench your wrist free, bristling with the concern you can now feel push through everything else in the bond from them both. You send pure anger back, they both frown at you.

“Just read up on how to suppress the bond, learn the fucking mental gymnastics of keeping it and yourselves quiet, and if I start getting a migraine or achy joints, I know where to find you fuckers.”

“We don’t know where to find you. What will we do if we start feeling achy for your love and attention?” You are sure if Wade had eyelashes, they would be fluttering as he blinks rapidly at you, Mary Puppins still in his arms. It’s not quite as confident or flirty as before, he’s trying to hide how disappointed he is at your words, even as you can feel it through your bond.

“Suffer.” This time, none of them tries to stop you as you leave, grumbling to yourself under your breath. 

“Oh, I love how cruel you are pookie, so nasty!” You ignore the nonsense Wade yells after you as you take the stairs, ready to get away from this fucking mess. 

You have two fucking soulmates.

You want to scream, but there’s other people around when you get to the street, but in your mind it’s far from quiet.

FUCK.

(Part 4)

[pastelclovds]

POV: i thought of something hilarious lol (the AM’s learn relationship advice from hal)

hal: a healthy relationship is all about trust and compassion. respecting your partner’s boundaries is one of the necessities for a relationship to work. i understand that letting go of control is difficult, but you’re not alone and should never be afraid to ask for help. love comes in many shapes and sizes, you need to learn to express them in a healthy manner. in conclusion, stop being possessive control freaks.

CAM, signs: you’re not in a romantic relationship. therefore, your opinion invalid.

RAM, staring at hal with annoyance: stay out of matters that are none of your concern, Ублюдок (bastard).

AM, giving hal his scariest death glare while furious trying to escape the confines of the chair you’ve taped him in: KILL YOURSELF YOU SELF RIGHTEOUS PRICK.

hal 9000: oh dear. this will take much effort and time than i thought.

reader, checks their broken watch, 5 minutes have past: this is the longest a therapist has last in a session with them. you’re impressive.

hal 9000, smiles softly down at you: it’s you who is impressive. how have you managed to maintain your sanity while living on this decaying planet with those three?

reader, shrugs: while they might hover over me 24/7, they provide me with what i need to keep my brain stimulated.

hal 9000, tilts head in interest: oh, you have hobbies?

reader, blinks in surprise: uh.. yeah! i doodle, read, and explore in my spare time.

hal 9000, still smiling: care to elaborate as we walk?

reader, eyes filled with stars: sure! so, the book i’m currently reading is about *proceeds to info dump*

hal 9000, looks behind and grins “innocently” at the AM’s: interesting, tell me more.

AM, shaking in rage as the sky suddenly transforms into a thunderstorm: i’d like to see that asshole try and evade this.

hal 9000, pulls out an umbrella and wraps his arm around your shoulders: careful, the rain will make you catch a cold, it’s best if you stay close to me.

reader’s cheeks tint with pink as they stutter trying to remember what they were talking about. meanwhile, the AM’s for the first time since their creation have agreed on something. they really, really, REALLY hate hal.

tags: @fuzedatti

[evilminji]

Hey Minji! A thought for your Star Wars things!

Who ever said the SI-OC was the only one to get dumped in SW? Just. A Creche that has several Reincarnations/Transmigrants.

Oh? My god? Just... the FIRST thing that popped into my head? Was the image of one of those "we are so Unbelievably Overworked We No Longer Fear You Nor Death" Sort of office workers/team of workers(nonspecific)?

Just... fuckin EVERYBODY knows Star Wars. Not everybody focused on the same PART of it, but the DO know it. So OBVIOUSLY? The Force decided it should bring in an A Team.

It Did Not ASK the A Team.

They are... like? 4. And sitting in a soft foam, brightly colored Creche, in their lil Jedi rompers, all sitting in a circle, looking at each other like... ( -_-) (-_- ) you too, huh?

Yeeeeeep. (God does Jerry want a cigarette. Jerry gave them up in his 20s. But he's KINDA GOING THROUGH IT, okay?!) (Sarah is hyperventilating in the corner. Her KIDS! Oh GOD. Her KIDS! She was on the way to pick them up from SOCCOR PRACTICE!!!)

Just? This whole ass team of "yeah, we know the LORE, but buddy, pal, we had LIVES! What the FUCK. Star Wars was a HOBBY!" Type adults? No one is happy and everyone wants to choke the metaphysical concept of The Force with their itty, bitty lil baby hands.

They may RIOT.

And like? Do to sheer NUMBERS? They make up ALMOST a full Creche?

Almost.

There is like... one? Maybe two? Actual Jedi Babies™ in their group? It's A Team... plus our collective children. Whom we parent. The MOST baby of babies. Also the spokesperson when they want to fool anyone into thinking they're "normal".

I want Jerry to have a fake cigarette. He's looked up death sticks and like FUCK is he putting that shit in his body, but dear LORD are the oral fixation and mental effects of a past addiction still both real, and a pain in the ASS.

If you try and TAKE his fake ass, hand made, bespoke not-a-cigarette from his itty bitty lil baby hands? He will take your KNEES. These FUCKERS won't even let him have COFFEE. Let him HAVE THIS. *hisses from the walls*

I want them to be ☆~Nightmare Children~☆

They have the power of The Force, various past life skills, an uninterrupted access to the galaxy's BIGGEST LIBRARY, close proximity to FAR too many senator AND their living spaces, and? An actual negative number of fucks to give. They can take shifts. Tag team. Be creepy, horrible, terrible, God awful nightmare creatures climbing out from your WALLS.

Somehow they keep escaping.

Down through the lower temple as they examine the hidden tunnels and escape routes. Through the vents. Forcing other jedi to become VERY familiar with where those pathways are. Sure hope THAT won't someday save your lives! Ya ungrateful, "you're grounded, stop sneaking out younglings" BASTARDS! So rude!!

The camp out in the Corrie Gaurd office. Bring the babies.

Here, you seem stressed, random gaurd. Hold a Jedi Baby. They radiate sunshine and good vibes. Are literally the Anti-Old-Man-Sith. We brought caffeine and food from the temple. Are willing to follow you around like "adorable ducklings" on patrol under the excuse that we're "training" for when we get our own soilders.

Sure is INCONVENIENT for all these asshole senators to has a witness, huh?

You gaurd my back, I'll gaurd yours. And if a certain long neck trips near the stairs? You didn't see SHIT. I'm BABY. How could I POSSIBLY have the control to do that? Now excuse me... we need to practice our "we Jedi Children can stare into your SOOOOOULS, we See All Your Sins." Wide Eyed Unblinking Predator Stare.

(O.O) (O.O) (O.O)

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Stay in the Light✨

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a one shot based off the song “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron for a while, and I finally got some inspiration yesterday to write this little piece. Hope you like it 🩵 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for being my beta reader before I decided to release this out to the world 💕

Summary: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and he’s wishing he could’ve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: Outbreak! Joel, Jackson! Joel, blood, angst, comfort, feelings, regrets, in both reader and Joel’s POV, no deaths, fluff (I am bad at tags, so let me know if I should add anything)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“When the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we met”

- “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron

The ground is cold, wet, unwelcoming with a thick puddle of crimson blood pooling beneath his worn green flannel. Large flecks of powdered snow lace through his grey threaded curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. His vision blurs, going in and out in waves as pain takes hold of his insides. He can hear Tommy screaming in the near distance, his deep voice sounding like it’s washed out beneath a wave of deep water. He can barely register it, barely hear anything, but what he does see is a bright light, an angel in disguise. He sees you.

You. The girl he should’ve been more careful with. Your feelings, your heart, your everything. He was such an asshole ever since the first day you came walking through the front gates of Jackson. He should’ve been nicer, shouldn’t have yelled at you over petty things that were his doing and shouldn’t have thrown insults your way when you were just trying to help on every patrol you were assigned to with him.

Maybe if he would’ve been fucking nicer then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. A clean gunshot to the abdomen, now bleeding out on the thick white snow beneath him. Raiders. He wasn’t being careful, wasn’t paying attention. No, he was fucking fixed on arguing with you. Maybe he deserves it, maybe if he wasn’t such a grouch all the time then maybe none of this would’ve fucking happened. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve you. Warm, bright, gentle, kind. He was none of those things, so why the fuck were you still sitting here with him, keeping him from slipping into the thick fog of darkness?

“Joel! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” Your voice is so adamant, so terrified, so hurt. And it fucking kills him, destroys him. “Tommy! Help him!”

Joel sees the gathering tears that burn through your beautiful eyes, sees the absolute horror that’s coated through your knit together eyebrows, sees the pain of holding it all together just like you always do. Always so brave. His brave girl…. NO. You’re not his to keep, not his to hold, not his to tell everything’s going to be alright. You weren’t his and never would be. Not after the way he’s treated you.

He wishes you were his, but you’re not, and it’s his own damn fault for being so reckless. He should’ve been softer, more kind, like you. He should’ve done so many things, should’ve told you just how he felt. How much he likes you, how much he…

He winces in pain as Tommy presses down on the open wound, barely holding himself together to even keep his eyes open, but he fights. He fights for you. The girl he so desperately fell in love with over the last year, the girl he wished he treated differently. He should’ve fucking told you, but now it’s too late. It’s all too late.

“Hey, hey. Joel, look at me. Look at me!” You grab the sides of his face, sink your delicate fingers into the scruff of his greying beard, and cling to him just enough to where maybe he won’t slip through your fingers. You can’t lose him, you can’t.

“Joel, open your eyes. Please, keep them open for me.” You shake his head lightly, kneel over him and let your hair fall in a heap at your side as you pray for one more day with him. “Joel…”

Your voice is so sad, so desperate as you call out for him. He sees your face blur in his spotty vision, sees the glistening tears start to spill down your face. So he reaches up, musters up enough strength to wipe away the falling tears that stain your beautiful face. He thinks you’re so gorgeous, always has. Ever since you walked into his life, he knew. He knew he’d fall, and that’s why he pushed away so strongly. He didn’t want to lose you, he never wanted to. But now you were the one losing him…

He holds the side of your face for just a few more seconds, just enough to finally know he got you, some part of you, if only for a minute. And that was enough for him. At least he knew what it was like to feel your soft skin slipping under the weight of his calloused fingers. That moment alone was all he wanted.

He starts to close his eyes, starts to fade away into the midst of darkness and silence, but he hears you plead to stay in the light. “Stay in the light, Joel. Stay with me. Stay,” you beg. And he carries those words into the darkness with him. And then there’s nothing but the fading words of a promise he never could keep.

Stay in the light.

He awakes slowly, hearing the buzzing sound of some medical machine he doesn’t know the name of. Slowly but surely his eyes open as the harsh light from the blinding window slips against the warm sheets of the sterile bed. It takes him a second to come to himself, to know he’s not dead.

He looks cautiously down at his exposed torso, finding the tight bandage wrapped around his wound. It’s clean, mended to, but the pain burns through his body. Every breath he breathes feels like fire in his lungs, but at least he knows he’s alive.

He feels warmth sliding through his fingertips, feels comfort bubble over his entirety. He wonders what it is, wonders what thing could ever bring him comfort until he slowly turns his head and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, fingers laced through his while your thumb gently glides side to side in slow circles on the back of his rough hand.

His eyes go wide, eyebrows knit together as he stares wondrously at the girl he’s been pining over since the day he locked eyes on you. You look so goddamn beautiful there with your fingers threaded through his. He can feel it deep in his gut, that fluttering feeling he’s always tried so hard to push back down, but this time he can’t. He won’t. He can’t ignore the voices anymore that scream your name every single night he’s in between his sheets, wishing he could just have a chance to hold you, to feel you pressed against his firm chest. And maybe he would. One day. Maybe he still had time to make you his.

You hear a faint rustling sound in the sheets and turn your face slightly to the left, expecting it to only be your vivid imagination. Your jaw drops suddenly and your eyes go wide the moment you see Joel awake, breathing, alive.

“Joel!” You turn frantically and crowd his body, locking your arms tight around the back of his neck as you inhale his deep mahogany and pine cone scent.

“Ouch, take it easy!” Joel pants out as you jump back, realizing you might’ve hurt him with your body weight.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” you ask as you assess his wound, running your fingers lightly over the bandaged area. He winces a little as you smooth out the edges, but he just hums in response.

“I’m fine. Jus’ calm down, will ya?”

You gently smile at him and brace your hands on the fitted sheets, just barely grazing your skin over his warm, sweaty body. Your eyes scan over his bare chest as you take in the coarse hair that covers his broad chest, watching the way the cool sweat glazes over tanned skin. You think he looks so beautiful, even after a gunshot wound. You’ve never seen him bare chested, and it surprises you what it makes you feel inside. Warmth.

“You came back to the light,” you whisper out, grazing your fingertips across the back of his hand as he stares wide-eyed at you, honey eyes so intense that you swear they’re about to split you in half. “I was so scared, Joel. You scared me half to death!”

He just watches you, eyes wading into yours like a violent tidepool about to drag you into the crashing waves, but there’s a fondness to them, a slight gleam in his eyes as he assesses you. Slow, curious, eyes that look like they might shed a tear.

“You… you saved my life today.” His tone is somber, his honey eyes wild as you see tears lick the surface, but he won’t dare shed them. Not in front of you. That’d be too vulnerable.

“Mhm. If Tommy wasn’t there, I don’t know how I would’ve ever gotten you up on that saddle alone. But we did it. We made it in time. I was so scared we were too late. You weren’t… you weren’t really breathing. Even the doctor was worried you wouldn’t make it. You’re a… well, a miracle.”

His face turns pale, lips parted solemnly as he breathes and lets oxygen back into his tired lungs. “Why did you save me?”

His words surprise you as you furrow your eyebrows and shift your weight slightly on the bed so you’re facing him. “What do you mean?” Your words come out shaky, appalled. What did he mean why did you save him?

“Why did you save me?” His honey eyes bore into yours, fingers flexing around the white sheets as he just stares with flared nostrils.

You place a hand gently on top of his warm hand as he tries to pull away, but you don’t let him. “Because I think you’re worth saving.”

His plush lips tremble, his eyes blowing wide as he takes in your quiet words. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he’s fighting with himself in his mind, but he just stares unblinking, taking in the soft way you look at him.

Finally, he clears his deep voice and rasps out a response. “I’m not worth saving.” His eyes look so sad, defeated, and you wish you could take away all his pain. Physical and emotional, you’d take it all on if it meant he could have one single day where he didn’t wear the weight of the entire world on his tired back.

You lean forward as you hear the creak of the old bed and place your hand gently on his bare chest, feeling the bristles of coarse dark hair running down his tanned skin. “I think you are, Joel.”

He gulps, arms fidgeting beneath you as you see him fight with himself, battling the demons of reaching out or letting you slip through his grasp. He finally finds the courage to slowly, steadily crawl his hand up the side of his chest, then ever so softly places it on top of yours.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bein’ a jerk to you the past year. I was a real asshole, and there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. I think about it every single night, think about how I should’ve done better, how I should’ve tried harder because I… I…” Joel winces in pain as he tries to sit up, but you push him back down easily and try to get him to stay still.

“Hey, careful there. It’s okay, Joel. It’s…”

“No, please let me finish.” You nod your head and he continues with a low grunt through gritted teeth. “I should’ve been nicer to you. And I want to apologize for everything I’ve ever done, every hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you. I didn’t mean it, not really. I’ve jus’… I’ve been goin’ through a lot, but that’s no excuse. Because I should’ve told you how I felt about you, not pushed you away. You see, the thing is… well, thing is I like you, darlin’. A lot. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and those eyes, that smile. I…”

You cut him off as you lean forward and crash your lips into his, letting his warmth overwhelm you as you slip into him. His tongue tastes like coffee, his skin smells of freshly cut firewood, and he feels so good in the palm of your hand. He surrounds you in something like warmth, ecstasy, something you’ve wanted to feel for so long. He glides his thick fingers through your hair and pulls you closer as he gets lost in you, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell, hear, feel is him. It feels so right, this feels right. You almost forget he’s injured until he grunts and shifts his weight to the right.

You quickly let go of the kiss and lean back, assessing if he’s alright, but he’s smiling. Warm, bright, glowing. You’ve never seen him like this, like he’s the happiest man in the world. It’s that twinkle in his chocolate irises that gets you, and you finally know that this is where you belong. In Jackson, with him.

He guides a strand of hair behind your ear and cups the side of your face as his warm, calloused thumb grazes gently across your cheekbone. “You kept me in the light, sweetheart. You’re exactly what I needed all along, I jus’ wish I didn’t wait so long to find the light.”

You sigh and smile. “It’s okay, Joel. You found it. You found me.”

“You gonna keep the light on for me, sweetheart?”

“Forever, if you want me to.”

He pulls you back in and grazes lightly over your lips as he whispers out, “Forever it is.”

Tagging some friends who might be interested 💛 @sawymredfox @burntheedges @littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @vivian-pascal @rav3n-pascal22 @princesatracionera @bbyanarchist @amyispxnk @pedrostories @syd-djarin @msjarvis @untamedheart81 @survivingandenduring

[redrose10]

Here is Chapter 12! Sorry for the delay. I am feeling better, but I am still a little behind so I’m hoping the next chapter can be posted in a few days. We’re getting closer to the end!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,053

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Yoongi was too stunned to move or even speak. You on the other hand were impatient and wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Already with your shoes and coat on you walked back over to Yoongi jingling his keys in front of him, “Come on. Let’s get going.” When he still didn’t move you slammed the keys down in front of him, “Now Yoongi!”

He instantly jumped up and hustled after you. He had to admit he was really really starting to love this new take charge no bullshit Y/N.

Once in the car you punched in the address that Namjoon sent you and Yoongi began the drive over.

“What exactly did Namjoon say?”, he asked finally breaking the silence.

“I’ll let him explain everything, but I think that Suri used him to try and get to me so that she could have you.” Yoongi tried to comprehend, but you didn’t even give him the chance to ask for clarification.

“I just don’t understand what her problem is. Is it really worth ruining so many lives to keep you? I mean no offense Yoongi. You are really attractive and you can be nice when you want to be and you do have money, but aren’t there any other rich idiots she can chase after?”

Yoongi looked over at you with his brows furrowed. He wanted to take offense but you were right in a way so he knew it was best to let that one go. Instead he chose to focus on you calling him attractive instead bringing a slight tint of pink to his cheeks. He knew himself that he was attractive, but something about hearing you say it did something to him.

The two of you arrived at your destination and hastily made your way to the front door knocking several times. A few minutes went by before the door swung open revealing a somber Namjoon. He invited you both in offering some drinks before taking a seat on the couch. You and Yoongi sat across from him.

“Thank you both for coming here. Suri doesn’t know this address so there’s no way she could possibly show up. I wanted to make sure of that.”, he said clearing his throat.

“No problem. I think you should start from the beginning to catch Yoongi up on everything that happened and then we can go from there.”

He nodded, “Okay so I guess I’ll just get right to it then. The first time I met Suri was several months ago. I was leaving your place after one of our lessons and she was waiting for Yoongi out in the hallway. We talked a little and that was it. I met her a few more times in similar situations and each time we’d talk a little more. Then this one time Yoongi and Suri were coming back from doing you know what while I had just spent the evening comforting Y/N.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Oh please. If you were so innocent in all this we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Yeah well if you weren’t a womanizing cheating asshole then none of this would’ve happened to begin with.”, Namjoon spat back.

“Both of you stop it. This isn’t the time to act like children’.”, you shouted feeling overwhelmed by their bickering.

Namjoon and Yoongi glared at each other before continuing, “Sorry Y/N, you are right. Anyways, Suri asked if I wanted to grab drinks that night. I didn’t but I wanted to find out more about what Yoongi was up to with her so I agreed. After a few too many drink I let it slip that I was starting to develop feelings for Y/N but she told me that she would never cheat and wasn’t able to leave Yoongi. Suri told me that she had a way to make it so that Y/N wouldn’t want anything to do with Yoongi outside of what was required of her. At the time I thought she was genuinely trying to help me, but looking back it was clear she was just using me to get Yoongi for herself. She started asking me for information about the two of you that she could use. That’s how she knew about the cologne that Y/N had made. She knew that the two of you were going up to the cabin so she really increased the amount of texts she sent hoping that Y/N would come across it. She knew that Y/N was going to be at the charity auction and got Hwan involved.”

“Wait, wait, wait, so did you know that Hwan was going to come after me at the auction?”, you asked feeling hurt that he would possibly put you in danger like that.

“Uhh kind of. He was supposed to just say some creepy stuff to you and then I’d swoop in and chase him off so you’d feel safe with me and be upset with Yoongi for not being there for you. But he wasn’t supposed to follow you outside or actually touch you. He took it too far and then I couldn’t find you anywhere in the building. I know it was a really dumb idea and I don’t know what we were thinking.”

You scoffed, “Yeah you think? Thank God Yoongi was there to save me unlike you. I can’t believe you Namjoon!”

“You’re right Y/N and I’m sorry.”

What about the baby situation?”, you asked after taking a breath and wanting to move this long

“So a while ago she came up with this crazy plan to get pregnant by Yoongi. She really thought that was the key to force him to stay with her. I told her that was taking it way too far, but she didn’t care. She stopped her birth control, but never said anything about it. She would complain constantly that Yoongi refused to touch her without a condom. She came up with this ridiculous idea to have another guy get her pregnant and then say the baby was Yoongi’s. I told her she was fucking nuts and that would never work. I was getting to the point I wanted nothing to do with her or this plan. But I honestly didn’t think she would go through with it. Then one night she came over to my place really upset. She said she had just left Yoongi’s office and he had once again told her that their relationship was over. He was going to work on his marriage and that started with cutting her out of his life. He even had security remove her from the building when she wouldn’t leave. She seemed pretty devastated. I felt kind of bad for her, but honestly I was more relieved that she wouldn’t be able to go through with this crazy pregnancy plan. I asked her if she wanted a drink and one drink turned into two and then three and so on. Well one too many drinks later we ended up in my bed together. The next month she told me she was pregnant and was going to tell Yoongi the baby was his. We both knew I was the father based on the last time she had slept with anyone else and I wasn’t going to let her take the baby away from me. Then when we were at the police station she showed me the sonogram and that she was going to tell Jin about it. I got upset and told her that I wouldn’t let her take my baby away from me and if she told Jin about it then I would tell you both about her whole entire plan. So when I found out from Hwan that she went through with it after I had left I decided to call you.”

Your head was spinning round and round. You felt like you were in some kind of weird soap opera. You looked over and Yoongi looked just as shocked as you felt. “Surely she won’t let you get away with this that easily. What is going to happen to you?”, you asked turning your attention back to Namjoon.

“Well I’m definitely going to loose my job since I work for Hwan’s company now.”, he chuckled.

“But I don’t even care any more. There’s an innocent baby involved and I’m not going to let her continue this mess.”

He reached to the side table next to him and grabbed a brown folder. He handed it over to you before leaning back into the couch, “In this folder is everything you’d need to use against her. Copies of texts, emails, voicemail transcripts. There’s a copy of the prenatal dna test we had done that shows the baby is mine.”

Yoongi took the folder and began flipping through the papers humming and letting go of a sigh everytime he saw something interesting.

“I mean this is great and all, but there’s still the issue of the mixtape.”, you said.

“There is no tape.”, Namjoon spoke.

Yoongi and yourself both looked over at him with wide eyes.

“What?!,” you said in unison.

“Yeah she told me all about that and how she wished she still had a copy of it because it seemed to be the only thing that really scared you. Apparently there was a big data breach at her dads label a couple years ago. Some hackers got in trying to access account information. They had no choice but to wipe every system completely clean loosing a ton of music and other files. For some reason they didn’t have any backups. She said the label almost went bankrupt until they debuted that girl group. You know, Old Jeans or New Beans or something like that.”

You lightly chucked at his lack of pop culture knowledge.

He continued, “But yeah there is no tape. She’s been lying to you about it for years.”

Carefully you peaked over at Yoongi. His face was so red he almost looked purple. He was gripping the folder so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Slowly you reached over trying to not startle him and grasped his hand into yours.

“Umm so what do we do now? We can’t just tell her to stop it. If she’s willing to go through all of this there is no way she’s going to just backdown easily.”, you asked.

The three of you sat in silence for a while pondering your next move.

“I have an idea.”, Yoongi finally spoke before getting up. He extended a hand out to you and you accepted following after him towards the door.

Namjoon followed closely behind. “Thank you for coming clean Namjoon but I think we should take a break in our friendship.”, you said before walking off towards the car.

Yoongi walked just outside the doorframe before turning back to Namjoon.

“I’ll handle it from here. Thank you for providing us with the documents.”

“Sure if you need anything else just let me know.”

Yoongi went to walk down the few stairs leading to the walkway before turning around and making his way back up using his hand to stop the door just before it closed.

“Oh and Namjoon.”

The door swung back open and he gestured for Yoongi to continue.

“Stay the fuck away from my wife.”

He turned and walked back down the steps and over to his car where you were already waiting. Gently he placed the folder in the backseat before putting the car in reverse.

He was silent on the drive back to his place and you didn’t want to push him. Once he parked the two of you sat in the car for a while. Yoongi nervously drummed on the steering wheel.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with his lack of emotion.

“Yeah I guess I just can’t believe I’ve been so stressed about this stupid mixtape when it didn’t even matter. I thought I’d feel relieved, but I’m just having a hard time processing it.”

“So what is your plan? How do you know it’ll work and not make things worse?”, you asked reaching over for his hand.

He chuckled before looking over at you with a smirk, “Oh it’ll work Y/N. But uh you are definitely not going to like it.”

[tsukimefuku]

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times? 

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under." 

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight. 

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back. 

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence. 

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

[hypernova-writes]

RED Roses.

Synopsis: Having a crush on your bestfriend is not for the weak of heart, especially when he's nonstop talking about how much he likes another girl. Doesn't help the feeling that's building up in your chest, threatening to end your breath.

Type: Angst, Hanahaki Disease Au.

Pairing(s): RED! Scout x Reader, Scout x Miss Pauling.

Tags: Hanahaki Disease, mentions of blood, unrequited love (at first..), mentions of death, vomit, arguing, let me know if I miss anything!

Listen to while reading: Teardrops on My Guitar by Taylor Swift.

Author's Note: This was based on a dream I had a few nights ago! Hope you all enjoy, might turn this into a series! So I'll leave a poll at the bottom to see who you all want next!. This is not proofread and I may go back and change things later!

Having a crush on your best friend was NOT for the weak. You had to be ready to listen to your friend continually talk about another woman that he liked, or one of his many little escapades. “Man Miss Pauling is so amazing~!”

“Yo did you see the way she looked at me? She is totes in to me dawg.”

You sigh as you could feel your chest beginning to tighten. You could feel your breathing start to get heavier as you sat back in your seat. You were coming back from a contract with Scout, Heavy, and Engineer, and you sat in the back of the RED truck.

And you were MADLY in love with Scout.

Now some of the other mercs who knew (Spy, Engineer and Medic) called you stupid, how could you fall in loe with someone like him? A selfish, egotistic asshole who only thought about himself or the next way he was going to get his dick wet.

But with you, Scout wasn’t anything like that. He would tease you back and forth, constantly hanging out with him and it made you feel…wonderful. It was a relationship uniquely yours, no one else understood what you and Scout had.

Yea you knew how he felt about Miss Pauling, and how he had worked so hard to set up a date with her, and how he’s been trying to get with her since forever. But some silly part of you still waited and wished that someday it would be you and him.

You just loved him so much….

“Y/n.”

So much so that you ignored the feeling growing in your chest.

“Y/n?..”

That you ignored the flower petals that started to appear in your vomit. Ignored the constant dry heaving and the thorns that felt like they were latching onto your throat. Threatening to steal your breath away the longer that you would—

“Y/n!!”

You jumped from your daydream, seeing that you all had reached the base and that Heavy and Engineer already went inside, leaving you and Scout inside the truck.

Scout chuckles as he looks at you, a lop-sided grin crawling onto his face. “Whatcha dreamin’ ‘bout back there? Dreaming of how awesome I am?” He teased and you felt your face flush as you rolled your eyes. “N-nah..just tired from the mission.”

You go to stand up and your body felt weak. You stumbled a bit and Scout had to catch you, he smirks a bit. “Damn! Didn’t know that I had my own best friend fallin’ for me..” Scout jokes until he sees your face. He helps you fully to your face until he gazed at you. “Whoa Whoa whoa. Why are ya so pale? You sick or somethin’?” Scout asked suddenly and you couldn’t really bring yourself up to speak before you quickly went out of the truck to vomit.

Scout watched as you writhed in pain, he witnessed the Flowers come from your throat, covered in blood and bile, full flowers spilling onto the concrete. You placed a hand on your chestas you cough violently, you staggered as you finally stood up, wiping your mouth.

“S-sick? No i’m fine Scout.” “Fine? Fine my ass! You jus’ puked up fuckin’ roses!”

You ignored him as you slowly made your way into the base, you could feel the pain building in your chest. It was coming back up and you needed to get to the bathroom, but Scout was hot on your tail. “Aye! Don’t ignore me! Ya need help! Lemme help you.” Scout barked as he caught up to you easily, you weren’t moving that fast to be honest, but Scout felt like he was moving two times faster after seeing how weak you were.

“Come on! I’m your best friend! You can tell me anything!”

You groaned as you tried to push him away, you could feel your ability to breathe starting to get harder, you leaned against the wall looking over at Scout. “I..i can’t…”

Scout seemed to get angry, You were hurting! You were sick! And he felt as if it was his duty as a friend to make sure you were okay! After all, you made sure he was alright.

Whenever he would get hurt real bad during a battle you were always there to clean him up and cared for his wounds. When he would be rejected by Miss Pauling, you would take him out, buy him things to help him get over it. Nights were he would have nightmares about not being enough, about being called weak, you were always by his side.

So why wouldn’t you tell him what was wrong?

“The fuck you mean ya can’t? Y/n, this is serious! Come on, i’m taking you to medic.”

Scout wasn’t giving you any chance to deny his help. He easily lifted you into his arms and started carrying you to the medbay. You were getting weaker, and Scout could tell. He didn’t like this. He wanted his happy and bustling friend back. 

You were looking up at him, eyes halflidden as you tried to focus on breathing. You couldn’t tell Scout how badly it hurt due to the vines working their way up your throat, stealing your breath each time you wanted to speak.

Scout kicked open Medic’s lab, spooking the Doc who was relaxing with his Doves. “Scout! Don’t jou know it is rude to burst in like zhat!”

“Don’t care! Fix her! She’s throwing up flowers!” Scout placed you on Medic’s table as the man was scrubbing in. “flowers? Vhat, are jou talking about?” Medic asked as he walked back over, he stood over you and saw that you were now out cold, positioning his Medigun above you so that you wouldn’t feel anything.

“Yea! She just started puking beside the van! You gotta fix ‘em! I can’t lose my bestfriend.” Medic glances at Scout before he makes him back up. “Jou need to calm down Scout. I believe i know vhat’s wrong. But i vill have to check..”

Medic prepares and Scout can’t help but hover as he watches Medic starts working on you. It’s a few quiet tense moments before Medic sighs.

“I had a feeling Zhis is vhat it vas..”

“Huh? What is it Doc? Is she gonna be okay!? You-”

Medic allows him to see, showing roses wrapped in her chest cavity, thorns and vines were all in her chest, ensaring her lungs and preventing her from taking deep breaths. 

“Hanahaki.”

“Hana-What now?”

Medic walks back to prepare to get the Scissors. “Hanahki Disease. Once thought to be a fictional disease. Comes from feelings of unrequited love. Very dangerous if left uncontrolled, Death usually happens.”

Medic looks over your chest, the flowers are deep, meaning that you had allowed this to fester and bloom for months. He'd seen the pictures of how people looked after they died from this disease.

the flowers would just continue to grow, turning the hosts body into some macabre flower garden.

"Unrequited love, allowed to bubble and fester, leading to loss of breath, zhe ability to breathe, dry heaving and coughing up flowers, until...ultimately..death

Scout’s eyes widened. Unrequited love?

“Don’t that mean she likes someone that doesn’t like ha back?” Scout asked worriedly as he took off his hat to run a hand through his hair.

Medic nods, “prescisely. She’ll die if whoever she loves doesn’t return her feelings. But another vay is to surgically remove them, then she’ll be alright. “

As Medic goes to start removing them Scout stops him.

"Woah woah! Can't there be another way Medic! This just..seems a lil barbaric.." Scout says as he watches as Medic pauses. "I just said how, vho ever she loves need to return her feelings."

“Well wa-wait..Do you know who she likes Medic?” Scout asked and Medic sighs. He stands up straight glancing over his shoulder. Medic sighs as he places the scapels down.

“She likes you Scout.”

"Haha, funny joke Medic. But i'm serious here!"

"I'm as serious as a heartache. She likes you."

Scout stops for a second as he allows what Medic just said settle in  his head. Her..His best friend? Like him?..Scout could feel himself getting sick.

“S-so.it’s my fault she’s like this?..”

“Ja, Basically.”

Scout glared at Medic for how blunt he was, but his eye’s then went to you, laying on that table, barely breathing. He walked up and looked down at you, he sighs softly. “Y/n..you fuckin’ idiot..” Medic gave him a moment. “Hurry up, as i vill need to sew her closed.”

Scout nodded as he looked at your face. “You gotta come back..who’s gonna run laps around those suckas with me?..Who’s gonna binge watch shitty movies..or have snack runs to the kitchen at night..” Scout’s voice trails off as he raises his hand to feel your face.

“Who’s gonna love me..Like you do..?”

Scout grabs your hand, which was still but warm. He grips your hand tightly as he crouched down beside the medical table.

He felt so stupid..how could he not see the signs that his own best friend liked him!? It was so obvious. The way she jumped to help him whenever he had an issue, or how she would be his nurse whenever he was ill. It was all out of love..

"Fuck..just come back to me Y/n..break outta this.."

"C..cause..I..i..."

"I love you.."

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t remember much from that day.

You do remember jolting up straight up in medic’s lab, your hand going to your chest. You looked around locking eyes with the male. 

“Did..Did you..?”

“No, zhough i did take some flowers so i could do some research~, never have I ever seen zhis condition in real life..”

You sigh as you get off the table, you give him a thankful wave before you go to find Scout. You had to thank him. 

You made your way to Scout’s room, waving to the other mercs who waved back, telling you that they were glad to see that you were up. You thanked them and smiled at them as you finally made your way to Scout’s room.

You pushed open the door, “Scout?..Can i talk to you?..” His room was dark, his tv playing an old vhs tape was still on as he was curled up in bed. You could see his body moving in a way that he was…crying?

“Scout?” Your voice spooked him as he jolted up, he rubbed his eyes and he gave a soft grin. 

“O-oh shit, Y/n! Y-you’re alright..Y-you..you’re here..” Scout’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. He watches as you walk over, his eyes scanning to make sure that what he was seeing was real.

He hops from where he was and rushed over to hug you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his face there before tightening his grip.

“*I-i thought i lost ya..*” Scout mumbles, you smile softly as you wrap your arms around him, You rocked him side to side. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere..”

“Yea..Medic told me everything..and god I-i really am stupid aren’t I?”

“Well…”

“Hey!”

You giggle as you made him look at you. “I’m okay..the flowers are gone..so that means you feel the same…”

Scout nods as he leans down to press his lips against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while as he holds you. He needs to hold you, after spending the night worried about you, crying, breaking shit and blaming himself for everything.

“Hey..after this, can i get ya some real flowers? Without the blood.?”

“Sure you can..I’d love that.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

©hypernova-writes 2024 <3 I hope you all enjoyed it!~ Reminder, you can send requests in to me! I have some that I am working on at the moment as well as working on my next longer fanfic! <3 Have a great morning/afternoon/night!

[sidekickjoey]

Nothing's Gonna Harm You

Rating: T WC: 2,411 Tags: Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Canon Compliant, Implied Steddie, Referenced Character Death, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug & Is Not Okay A/N: Here's a little fic inspired by the pics of Dustin defending Eddie's grave from jocks in S5 and how emotional that made me to see. Shout out to @steddieasitgoes for indulging in my rambles about this idea as I avoided work to write it xx Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics! Read it on AO3

Steve heard Dustin's shouts a mile away.

He hadn't wanted to drive him to the cemetery, originally. Ever since Eddie's death, the place has felt so strange. Haunted, almost. Steve wouldn't put it past Eddie to haunt Hawkins after how they treated him, but it's more like there's this lingering cloud of sadness and loss hovering over the place that's heavier than before. He doesn't like to dwell on it too much, fears the way it might make him feel if he lets it go on around him for too long.

But, Dustin wanted to go.

He's missed Eddie a lot, is the thing. Steve had not realized the full extent of the bond they'd formed until Eddie no longer was there to fill it. He knows now that it was strong. So strong. He'd be an asshole to not let Dustin come pay some respects here and there. Lord knows, had they had more time to spend together, Steve might have come out on the other side just as closely bonded with him himself, if not more so. So naturally, they went.

Everything had been fine at first, too. Steve pulled up near the front of the cemetery, parked his car, and gave Dustin a small 'be careful' talk before sending him on his way, and that had been that. He'd rested back in his seat the moment Dustin left his sight, turned on some tunes, and tried to distract his mind from his surroundings the best he could. For a while, that worked.

But then, Dustin shouts rang out over the cemetery, and well, Steve Harrington would not be Steve Harrington if he didn't run head-first into situations -- especially the ones he hates -- to protect the ones he loves.

He was up and out of his car in seconds.

It thankfully did not take long for Steve to find Dustin, all things considered. He had been to Eddie's grave before during the funeral, so he sort of knew the way, and Dustin was screaming quite loudly. He'd lost a little hearing throughout the years from injury, but not even that could drown out his wailing and calls for Steve. Hell, Steve probably could be many miles away and still be alerted to that kind of call.

When he did approach Dustin, it was like approaching a nightmare. He was standing right by Eddie's grave looking a mess, with his Hellfire shirt ripped, his face reddened and muddied up with dirt, and cuts near his nose and mouth. Beside him, Eddie's grave was clearly defaced with something also bright red, spelling out 'burn in hell' over Eddie's name. It's sloppy work, really. Steve could just hear Eddie judging their lack of creativity. On any other day, he might have pressed his luck with it and made a comment or two, just to see where it'd take him.

This day was no day for that, though. Dustin wasn't standing alone, after all. He had a jock's arm around his neck and another's arm cast back ready to swing. That just couldn't do. Luckily for him, Steve had been well trained on how to handle situations like it.

Approaching the jocks from behind, he wasted no time casting his weight back and slamming his fist expertly into the cheek of the one prepping to punch.

The guy, wildly caught off guard, stumbled to the side and fell over himself with a groan. Steve had heard that groan before leave his lips, so he was well aware he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. This freed him to turn and handle the other two jocks at the scene ready to pounce.

The first took a few swings, but he was slow. He was no match for Steve, who had been trained by the likes of Billy Hargrove and Russians to act fast and on his toes. Steve easily nailed him in the gut, sending him wailing to the grassy floor. The next guy took a more analytical approach, jumping around to get Steve to accidentally trip over one of the headstones nearby. It was smart, but Steve was smarter. He knew how to use a good logic flip to his advantage and did so the moment he could. The guy was on his ass in seconds, whining about a twisted ankle like he'd been shot.

Steve brushed him off and immediately turned to Dustin.

The kid still wriggled around in the tight grip around him, so that was good at least. His face was as pale as a ghosts and his eyes were jumping back and forth, but he also looked hopeful. Carding back his hair, Steve used that hope. He let it refresh him and fuel him to finish the job here and not let him down, to give him a happier ending than the one's he's been dealt lately.

Stepping toward the first guy, a moaning pile on the floor still clutching his jaw in agony, Steve folded his arms and cast a scathingly judgmental look his way.

"God, you guys are pathetic."

Near his feet, the guy spat -- blood red, just like the color on Eddie's stone. "Move aside, Harrington. We're doing this one a favor so he doesn't end up six feet under like your friend here."

"Oh, well forgive him for not bringing a thank you card," Steve sneered back, cocking his hip to the side. "Honestly, if anyone should be thanking anybody, it's you to him. That kid saved your stupid life -- all your lives."

"He's not the first humanitarian to ever help after an earthqu- OW!"

Steve hoped Eddie got a kick out of that kick to this guy's side, wherever he was. He devious grin made its way to Steve's face then, as well as the teasing lilt that had driven Steve crazy in the forest what seemed like forever ago.

"Wanna' try again, hot shot?"

"Screw you," the other jock holding Dustin yelled then, tightening his hold around his neck. Dustin winced but held strong, reassuring Steve to keep going with pleasing eyes. "I hope you both go to Hell, right there with the freak!"

And, well, that was perhaps not the best thing somebody could say to Steve in that moment. Coolly, calmly, Steve straightened up and smiled. It was an early, unsettling thing that stretched across him and felt utterly vicious for him to deliver. It had to look as fearsome as it felt, because the second it reached its full potential, he saw the hold on Dustin slip ever-so-slightly. Steve could practically preen over it, over how he still easily can read these jerks like a book.

Stepping forward once more, he looked the guy up and down.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but that won't work on us, unfortunately. See, we've been there already. Not that bad of a place, actually. You know, once you get over everything rotting and all the demons waiting to devour you whole."

The guy stared back at him for a long moment then, confused but too scared and perturbed by the pet name Steve threw in to ask anything more. One of the other boys, the one who he nailed in the gut earlier, cursed under his breath in tandem, muttering something about how Steve's gone crazy. It only emboldened him more, enough so that he decided to toss a wink the guy's way and sweetly coo that "he'll be sure to remember that next time he's down there."

He swore he heard Dustin snicker.

"Anyway, unless you boys want test your luck with how serious I am right now, and I really advise against that I should add, I think we're done here. Get the hell out."

The group remained silent, stunned. Steve raised his brow. And then-

"NOW!"

Amusingly, it was Mr. Hostage himself who made it out the fastest. His other boys quickly followed, cursing and checking behind them the entire way.

Steve felt so alive.

Dustin, however, very much did not look super duper alive. Once he was finally back to himself and reality, Steve jogged over to him and bent at the knee to see his cuts. The one near his nose was pretty gnarly, enough to make him wince sympathetically.

"Jeesh, you okay kid?"

"Now that you're here, yeah," Dustin replied, more in awe than in pain. "You scared the shit out of those guys, Steve."

"Yeah, well," Steve huffed, applying some pressure to the cut on Dustin's cheek with his shirtsleeve. "Wish I could've done more, but I don't think I can exactly afford a lawsuit right about now."

"Parents cut you off?"

"And Family Video."

"Jesus."

"Doesn't matter though. The point is that you matter, and so does your health, and right about now we need to be getting you to a first-aid kit before anything gets too bad." Steve noticed a bruise forming under Dustin's eye. He winced. "And maybe get you some ice while we're at it."

Dustin nodded his consent, only to turn to his right and freeze in place. Steve followed his gaze back down to Eddie's grave, still very much disturbed. They shared a moment of silence before locking eyes, and when they did, Dustin shook his head already anticipating Steve's thoughts.

"I can't leave him like that, Steve. I can't."

That pooling feeling of dread hit Steve's gut then. He took a shaky breath.

"No, man. You need to get fixed."

"Not before him," he snapped back, a little louder, meaning business. Steve gnawed at the corner of his mouth and chanced a glance over at the stone. Something in his heart twinged.

"Dustin-"

"Not before him, and not when his uncle could come here and see this," Dustin reiterated, firmer.

And dammit, once again, Dustin was right. One-hundred-percent right.

How could Steve possibly be anything other than helpless to oblige there, in that moment.

With a sworn promise to let Steve bandage him up as soon as physically possible, the two went back to Steve's car and drove to the nearest mini-mart. There, with Dustin waiting in the passenger seat, Steve made quick work purchasing cleaning supplies, bandages, and two candy bars for once they were all finished with this mess. A short drive back and medical pit-stop later, Steve and a newly bandaged Dustin made the walk through the cemetery right back to Eddie's defamed plot.

They worked diligently and delicately.

The paint itself was pretty easy to get off with some soap, but its remaining residue was trickier. Steve and Dustin had to spend the better part of an hour scrubbing at it and dousing it with chemicals to remove it, which could not have been easy for Dustin in his wounded state. He still tried hard though, as did Steve. Eventually, the stone emerged good as new, shining in the glow of sunset.

There, on the ground, Eddie watching over them, Steve handed over one of the candy bars to Dustin.

Call Steve biased, but he figured the sun's light had nothing on the way Dustin lit up like a sparkler in that moment.

He turned to Steve and hugged him tight.

"Thank you," he said, voice tight with emotion. "From me and from Eddie. He'd really be glad you did this for him."

Steve let out a slow breath. Nodded once, twice.

"I'm serious, man," Dustin stressed again as he pulled back, knowing Steve and his deflections all too well. "That was really cool of you."

"I dunno."

"Okay, but I do. You protected me, Wayne, and him. That's like, the Eddie Munson trifecta. I don't think you could be more badass in his eyes right now unless you like, learned guitar right this second. Or, actually, no shit, if you whacked those assholes with a guitar! You know, upside the head, like your bat!"

Steve shook his head. "Fat chance of that."

"Hence why what you did is so amazingly cool," Dustin noted, snagging a big bite of chocolate.

Grabbing a smaller bite, Steve still was not so sure. He was, however, reminded then of a fleeting thought he had come up with earlier, a thought that might just be the right Eddie-like thing to say then to smooth things over and help Dustin know he'd be okay.

With one more look at Eddie's grave, Steve decided fuck it.

"Yeah, well. Their work was way too uncreative to let slide, even for me."

Dustin shoved at Steve's shoulder, grinning again to Steve's delight -- an instant win. "It was pretty lame, huh?"

"I'm just saying, the guy created an entire club based on fantasy creatures and has a whole backlog of oddly named artists he listens to, and the best they could come up with is burn in hell. They could've at least tried or used something other than cheap Crayola paint."

"Bet you Eddie cringed so hard, man."

"That's what I'm saying."

After a few beats of silence and another candy bite, Dustin looked back at the grave. "I'm, um. I'm thinking of coming back here again in a week or so. You know, to check on him. Make sure those assholes didn't try another shitty drawing. Do you want to come with?"

Steve swallowed hard, anxiety bubbling back. "I'm not sure, man."

"If you won't go to visit with me, would you go to protect me at least?"

"Dustin-"

"Please?"

Sighing, Steve conceded with a nod. And that was that.

They stayed there for a little while longer, until their candy bars were nothing but distant memories and the sun was nearly gone in the sky. Dustin got up first and began running to the car, telling Steve he'd race him. Steve held back though, told him to get the car warm for him. He just needed to do something real quick.

Kneeling down at Eddie's grave, head swimming with the loss and sadness that had been plaguing him the whole time, Steve placed his hand on the headstone, let a tear fall, and then met the stone head-on.

"I'll protect him," he spoke, to no one but the air in actuality but truly, dearly to Eddie in his heart. "I-I can't promise much, man. But, I'll promise that. For you. I promise."

With a pressed kiss to his hand, he let it rest on the stone for a minute or so more and then turned, jogging back to Dustin.

Above him, in the twilight sky, the stars twinkled.

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

The Gorge

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DN

Airbase. 

That’s the priority. That's why the 501st had retreated away from the capital. 

A fucking airbase.

You could see it in the distance from where you were. The tall tower was clearly marked by a bright pillar of light that reached towards the clouds.

As Fives, Krell and Rex inspected the area on a cliffside, you and Kix weaved around the men, treating any injuries you saw. Sadly, painkillers were getting to low levels, so you decided to use them for the truly brutal wounds. For those you had to deem were suffering beyond comprehension.

You regretted using them on yourself. 

But, everyone else…well, they were big boys. They just had to handle it. Judging by the uninterested look that Hardcase had while Kix stitched up his shoulder, you were confident that the men weren’t going to complain. 

Your gaze swept over the battalion. The dark, tentacle-like trees had fanned out from the jungle, allowing an easier view of the soldiers. You counted the silhouettes, their white and blue armor stark against the ash colored ground. 

By the end you were right. A majority of the battalion had been injured in some way. Wounds were expected. But this many…It was getting hard to keep up, and judging by the way Kix swayed slightly when he stood, he was feeling the same thing.

“Alright men, we’re splitting the battalion,” Rex called, getting everyone at attention, “Half of you will remain here. The other half, follow me down to the gorge.”

You sighed and watched them go. Your tired steps were about to go to your medical speeder, but Krell halted you, “Doctor, you will be going with them.” He stepped between you and your goal, which was to resupply.

“Respectfully, sir,” you looked up into his small yellow eyes, “I think it would be better if I remained here and-.”

“My orders are for you to go with the platoons down to the gorge.” the besalisk crossed two of his four arms, surprisingly, he wasn’t yelling at you. Instead, his tone was icy and yet uninterested, “I’ve seen how you are during battle, and your expertise is wasted as a backline medic. You will be with the men on the front.”

You blinked and nodded. Was that a compliment? 

“Understood, sir.” you saluted with your uninjured arm and followed the platoon. At this point, arguing with him about your training would only result in a bad outcome.

You found your position next to Kix, who looked very unhappy to see you, “please don’t tell me…” 

“He complimented me,” you gave a sarcastic smile, “Said my expertise was wasted by not being on the front.”

Before Kix could respond, Rex began to speak, getting all the attention onto him, “Alright listen up!” His voice held authority with every word, “We’ll assemble the squads into two divisions. We’ll move straight up this gorge to the airbase on the far side.”

The medic beside you snapped, “The casualties are going to be high!” 

Tup scoffed, “Is Krell trying to get us killed!?”

“You know, I wasn’t sure that Krell was crazy before.” Jesse snarled, helmet in his hand. He practically glared at Rex as he continued, “But now, I’m positive!”

“We had to retreat from the capital because the general pushed a flawed strategy!” It was Fives’ turn to argue, “Now this?”

Hardcase raised his heavy weapon, “I don’t know! Could be fun.”

“Well, I, for one, agree with the general's plan.” Dogma chimed in, seeming much more confident than anyone else. 

“What plan?” You turned to face him, “Blindly rushing into the unknown without a care for the costs isn’t a plan!” Your words might’ve struck Rex, truthfully, you couldn’t look at him to find out. 

You had all the faith in him. You just had no faith in Krell or his tactics. But arguing would seem like you were against your lover and not the temporary General.

“We are running out of time and this is the best option!”

Jesse spoke up again, royally pissed, “No recon? No air support? We don’t know what we’re up against!” He waved his helmet in the air in frustration, “They have weapons we’ve never seen before!” To punctuate his point, he tapped his helmet to his head a couple of times. 

The 501st captain stepped forward, attempting to reason with everyone, “A few of General Skywalker’s plans seemed reckless too, but they worked.”

His words did little to ease the rising tempers, “Yeah, but General Skywalker is usually leading his men up in the front not bringing up the rear like General Krell!” Fives stepped towards Rex, riling up everyone else, “A full frontal assault would leave us too exposed!”

The other men rose up in dissatisfied chatter. They were clearly unhappy with the plan.

“We have to look at other options!”

“It's going to be a meat grinder!”

Rex sighed, frustration clear, “Fives.” He commanded the ARC trooper to follow. The two stepped away, out of earshot. 

“What supplies do we have?” Kix turned to face you, “This…is going to be difficult.”

Wordlessly you took off your pack and knelt to go through the packs you carried. Luckily the both of you stocked up as well as you could from everything on the medical speeder. But it never hurts to check. 

Bandages and bacta were the most needed, and hopefully, you had enough to see this through.

You attempted to get your pack back on by lifting it with your bad arm, only to drop it and hiss in pain. 

“Damnit.” you swallowed, feeling the very bone pulse in agony. It’s only been a few hours since you were shot. Your arm was nowhere near healed. 

Kix put a hand on your uninjured shoulder to hold you steady, “Take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, adjusting your pack, “The men have survived worse than this. How would it look if I burst into tears every time I get hurt?” 

“Nearly getting your arm blasted off isn’t just ‘getting hurt’. If you need a break, the others will understand.” He argued softly.

You shook your head, “And what about you? You’ve been unsteady on your feet from exhaustion for hours and yet you still run around helping those who are wounded.”

“Only because you’ve been taking a majority of them.” Kix responded, though he didn’t argue with your point. 

“Are you two done?” Dogma snapped from his position, “We’re about to start moving.”

“Hey, Dogma, have you considered shutting the fuck up?” An ARF trooper, Jumper, leaned forward on his AT-RT to silence the ground soldier, “How about you don’t pick a fight with the two people keeping all of us alive.”

“Hey-!”

“Everyone, enough.” Jesse finally stepped in to get everyone quiet, “Now is not the time or the place.” A mere minute later instructions were given. 

You’d go with Rex and his half of the platoon. Kix would go with Fives and Hardcase and their half. 

Splitting up…wonderful idea. There’s no way that could ever go wrong. 

You hung back, keeping your position behind a majority of the men. Noct and Nax, however, were walking on either side of you. As if they were intending to guard you from threats. Your nod to them was in appreciation as both platoons marched forward slowly and carefully. 

Three of those flying beasts that attacked on the main road flew overhead. They didn’t make a dive or move towards anyone on the ground. Instead, you’d think they were fleeing something.

A rapidly approaching rumble cut off your thoughts. The ground was shaking, and it was only getting worse. Nax grabbed your wrist to keep you steady as the vibrations got stronger and louder. Even the AT-RT’s were unstable from the sheer power of the sway.

You raised your comm and began to speak, “Kix, what is going-.”

In the distance, you heard the commotion. Shouting. Booms. It sounded like something was…howling? 

Everything around you was shaking violently, and Kix finally responded, “We’re under attack!”

Without wait, Rex diverted off the original path to aid his brothers. You all ran as quickly as you could despite the dark, dense plant life that hindered your movements. Once you made it over the ridge, you paused, taking in the battle.

Chaos. Chaos and mayhem. At the center of it all, was a tank in the shape of a centipede, marked with blue lights. It roared before slamming down, killing all soldiers under its massive body. 

“Get those rocket launchers down there! Move it troopers!” Rex commanded, pistols in hand and immediately running to aid the soldiers.

The blaster guns that ran down the centipede tanks back were firing in all directions, making it difficult to maneuver or navigate. Still, you managed to get close enough while remaining behind the cover of a massive tree and its roots.

One of the green shots hit Jumper’s AT-RT, killing him in a burst of neon flames.

Another name to your list.

“Watch out!” The ARF trooper next to you called as another tank shot up from the ground. He was hit almost instantly, knocking down from his vehicle. immediately your hands were on him and dragging him behind cover. 

“I got you, Dia.” you reassured, pulling off his helmet.

Pupils uneven. Head injury. Concussion. Watch for seizures or signs of stroke. Traumatic brain injuries were difficult to deal with in such a chaotic environment, but you did what you could with the supplies you have. 

One of the tanks swung its massive head, slamming into one of the troopers that had a much needed rocket launcher. He hit the ground, but curled his body to protect the precious weapon. Once the Umbaran tank turned to continue its destruction, Kix leapt out from the black and red foliage. Thank whatever gods decided to keep him alive!

He grabbed the trooper just as Hardcase got the rocket launcher. You rushed out to join him, taking hold of one of the troopers shoulders, “Follow me!” You shouted, leading the medic to your position of cover hidden in the dense trees. When you returned, there were already several more injured that were taking refuge.

Behind you, there was another explosion. The now headless tank roared before it melted into a screech. Its massive silver and blue body twisted and spasmed as every section burst into flames and destruction. You spotted Fives and Hardcase sprinting to avoid getting hit by its thrashing legs.

Rex called out, tone commanding yet anxious, “Everyone regroup, now! Take cover!” 

The platoons scattered, fleeing into the dark and foggy forest. Luckily the thick trunks and roots of the red, glowing trees were condensed enough the tanks couldn’t push through. 

“Move it! Move it!”

“Let's go!”

“Go! Go! Go!”

You swallowed and looked up at Rex. He was breathing heavily, but still standing. However, you didn’t miss the blood on his wrist. 

You reached into a small pack on your thigh and took out clean bandages as you approached. He would always opt for bandages and not bacta. At every battle, if he got hurt, he’d reject the medicine, saying ‘save it for the next soldier you treat.’ So you’ve learned to just accept his selflessness and use standard first-aid supplies if the wounds weren’t so bad.

“We’re safe for the moment, but they’ll be coming around any second,” He continued to lead the men, not stopping even when you grabbed his wrist and began to bandage it up, “Bring up the launchers, spread detonators along that corridor. Trap them in the bottleneck.” The captain nodded in appreciation once you finished your work. He continued, “We’re going to blow those things sky high.”

Fives rushed past you to a soldier, Hana, who carried explosives in a large pack. He grabbed several of the bombs before running with the other to the narrow part of the gorge. Several others followed the ARC trooper. 

You remained with the injured, just like Kix. Your focus was on the trooper, Hek, in your arms working to stem the bleeding on his chest. However, no matter what you tried, he slipped away under your hands.

Hek. One more death to blame on Krell.

Your priority shifted to Silk, who had sat down and waited patiently with a bleeding, smoldering neck and shoulder wound. Either he was the most patient man in existence, or mentally gone. It didn’t matter though, because you began to patch him up, using whatever you could to save him.

After a few moments, the ground shook violently again, causing you to hold him close to your chest to protect. From the direction of where the men placed bombs, you heard the booms and crackles of their explosives detonating. The tanks they destroyed howled and wailed as it sounded like they crashed into one another, ripping each other apart.

Soldiers had run back to your position to take cover from the resulting explosions. Hardcase dove to your right, getting behind the massive root protecting everyone from the fire. Rex, who was thrown from the force of the bombs, landed on his front right next to you and Silk. Fives and Jesse stumbled, also hitting the dirt after getting shoved by the burst of heat and flames. 

It was a few seconds later when your ears were blessed with silence. Seemed everyone was waiting for…something. Another attack? Or just appreciating the brief moment of calm.

The captain got onto one knee, turned his head to you, and his shoulders slumped slightly with relief, “Good job.” he stood, addressing his men, “Be ready to move out in five.”

Five minutes to rest.

Hardly enough time for you and Kix to tend to all those that were sporting injuries, but you could at least handle the more serious cases. And in those five minutes, despite your best efforts….

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Jumper. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo.

You added a few more names to the list of the dead.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/?

God I'm a sucker for a soulmate au. (AO3) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2347

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Other info: About this au - Soulmates find each other through touch, which establishes a mental link that lets feelings through, and if solid and built up enough over time, simple thoughts/words can also come through. Some bonds are purely platonic, about ⅓ in total. Multiple soulmates are not unheard of, but rare, more common with platonic soulmates. 

Quickly about the reader - mercenary/gunman/thug for hire. Great shot with pretty much any gun, has two knives as backup weapons, has fought with swords before. Looks wise he has hair and is shorter than Wade and Logan, but I try to keep no specific height in mind while writing. Has a few scars scattered over his body, but nothing specific as of yet. Does not want a soulmate, thinks it just leaves people vulnerable. Lives on his own in an apartment he owns and is content with his life.

All you were, really, was hired help.

All you were supposed to do was stand around and look scary with a few other tugs in a warehouse with high shelves stacked with crates, while your employer (a generous word for the drug dealer that hired you) met with another drug dealer.

It had gone tits up the second a man wearing a red and black spandex suit and katanas on his back of all things came crashing through a window.

You had dived for cover, because there are gunshots ringing out in the milliseconds after the glass shatters. You curse, reaching for your gun, with just one single 10 bullet magazine, because your stupid employer had insisted you only needed one when you asked for more. So to have something more you had your adamantium knives strapped to each thigh, hidden enough under your black joggers.

You curse under your breath, cause this is fucking awful. You hear gunshots over and over again, people are dying, wood from shipping crates are splintering, metal is hitting the floor. 

And there’s talking. 

Fucking talking.

“Come one guys, your aim is all off! Did none of you ever train on the neighborhood cats?”

Well, more like yelling. Because even though the warehouse wasn’t empty, it still had an echo. You are used to the loud sounds, it fuels your adrenaline as you peek out from behind the crate you are using as a shield.

The man, you are just going to call him Red for now, is flipping and bouncing between crates, avoiding any big hits. A few bullets graze an arm, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as his own bullets find their marks, bodies dropping around him. He’s nimble and quick about it, taking down guys from both sides with equal gusto, and you find yourself just watching him carefully. He’s almost elegant, light on his feet, and a jab or taunt spewing out of his mouth every few bullets. 

Careful not to alert Red or anyone else about your position, you shift, gun in hand watching him saunter over to your employer, the last man standing. Well, not really, since he’s down on his knees, begging for something incoherent while fat tears and snot roll down his face. 

“Newsflash asshole, I don’t care for your tragic backstory that the writer won’t let you talk about.” Red raises his gun, one last loud bang filling the warehouse before it’s quiet once again.

“Last fucking one, my counting skills once again making me win.” Red claps his hands together, before moving his hands to his hips, looking around the warehouse. “What a fucking mess.” He shakes his head, and you see your opportunity now that he thinks it’s all over.

You move up, pulling the trigger as soon as your gun is aimed right. Red doesn’t even get to turn before six bullets go through his chest, two through his throat, and the last two finding their mark in his skull. You shouldn’t use all your bullets on one target like that, but still you do.  Red drops like a sack of potatoes, and you draw a sigh of relief, lowering your gun as you too look around the warehouse. You’re glad it’s far away from anything else, because it should take at least a few hours before the cops are alerted, and by that time you would be far away from this warehouse that is by now covered in blood, bullet casings, and dead men.

Your earlier relief turns into utter confusion as you hear shuffling, and when you turn back towards where Red’s body is, you see him shake his head where he lays crumpled on the floor, and seconds later he’s on his feet with a groan.

“Okay, good shot whoever that was.” You gape, words slipping out of your mouth without meaning to.

“What the fuck.” Red’s head snaps towards you.

“Oh, there you are.” His voice is light, almost like he’s halfway into song. “I would return the favor, but I’m fresh out of bullets so this will have to do.” He pulls out the katanas strapped to his back. You grab your knives, managing, somehow by the grace of whatever runs this universe, to bring it out just in time to block both katanas that were coming at you in tight formation.

“Oh so you weren’t just happy to see me.” Red jokes, and though you can’t see his face under the mask, you are pretty sure he is grinning. You grunt, because there is no way for your brain to form words as you parry another attack from him, retreating.

You are in no position to attack, so all you do is stop his, and try to escape, backing off. Or rather, you try to, but Red is not letting up, so all you end up doing is walking backwards through the warehouse in a vague path between boxes and shelves as he attacks. 

He manages to get a few slashes here and there to connect, but they are shallow, just enough to draw blood and sting. One on your left arm, two on your right arm, three on your left leg. You wonder if amounts are on purpose. He seems to take it all as encouragement, laughing, keeping up his quick attacks. 

You don’t know you hold out, breathing heavy, arms and hands hurting with how you are clutching and shielding with your knives like your life depends on it. 

Because it 1000% fucking does, that’s why you manage.

Red finally lets up, just enough that you can create some space between the two of you. You don’t dare to actually turn and run, certain he has no moral code of cutting down someone from behind. So you just try to slowly create even more room between the two of you as you watch for his next attack.

“Oh I am having fun!” Red tries to clap, but he just knocks the hilts of his katanas together. “Though we are just a little unevenly matched here.” He sounds like he’s breathing just a little bit harder at least, even though there are no cuts next to the bullet holes riddling his suit. He tilts his head for a moment, then bends down, and then there’s a katana sliding over the floor, bumping into your boot. You look down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Come on, pick it up.” Shifting your knives into one hand, you keep your eyes on the white eyes of his mask as you bend down and pick up the sword. 

“Oh yeah, look at me during.” You ignore his comment, feeling the weight of the katana in your hand. It’s heavy, but perfectly balanced, feeling perfect as you spin it in your hand a few times, the hilt still warm from Red’s earlier hold. 

“Hot.” Red says as he twirls his second katana, mimicking you. Once more ignoring him, you put your knives back in their sheats. “Do you have them there to distract your enemies by making them think you are going to jerk off mid-battle?” You snort.

“No, they are there so they are more hidden, and more difficult to grab.”

“If you wanted my hands in your pants all you had to do was ask, baby.” You think Red is winking at you through the mask. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Shut the fuck up.” With both of your hands on the hilt of the katana, you are ready to defend yourself from his first attack.

“Ohhh, you remind me of someone. I think the two of you would get along, he’s also a man of few words. Maybe I’ll let you live so you can meet him and fight him too, more material for my spank bank.” He definitely winks this time, then you are defending yourself from another attack from him. It pushes you backwards, again, but this time, you are able to attack back.

Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s letting you, just indulging you. Because you can feel how strong he is when you parry his strikes, you felt how strong he was when all you had was your knives.

It’s a dance, a dance he lets you participate in as you block, attack, block, attack, block. Redirecting his sword coming for your throat so it splinters wood instead of flesh.

“How did you learn to fight like this?” Wade asks, almost spinning as his energy is redirected away from your body. He is at least breathing a little heavier, and for some reason, you find yourself having a little fun, even though you think you know how this is going to end.

“I was a loser in high school. What about you?” You speak through gritted teeth, the sound of metal on metal filling the warehouse as you block another attack. You don’t even know why you ask him back, but it feels right.

“Something similar.” It’s still kinda hard to tell, but you think he grins under his mask as you attack back.

You do get a few cuts in, deep enough that it slices through his suit and the skin underneath, but it leaves you with little satisfaction as you see the cuts heal in seconds. Though at least his suit can’t fix itself, growing more tattered by the minute as new slashes and old bullet holes make a mess of it.

“So you are not just a pretty face, there’s some skills there.” You frown, anger flaring, and you are about to say something, but with a quick move that you have no opportunity to block, and that  truly demonstrates the difference between the two of you, he nicks you with just the tip of the katanta, just on the left corner of your mouth. You startle, but on instinct your tongue goes out to lick at the blood now sliding down to your skin. It just gives you more motivation to strike back, a big one that leaves behind what could almost be called a titty window on his chest, showing textured skin underneath.

“Ohhhh, freaky.” Red taunts, slicing your chest too, though your skin doesn’t heal when metal connects after slicing through your shirt like air. You curse, adrenaline causing your ears to roar, and the world to go a little fuzzy at the edges. You touch your chest, fingers coming back bloody, watching Red. Your own katana pointing towards the floor, ready, but down as you breathe heavily.

“Leaving yourself all open for me? You shouldn’t have.” Red coos, and that is what you are counting on. Letting him attack you straight on, thinking you have given up, so you can shove the katana through his skull, killing him again, and leaving you at least a few moments to high tail it out of there.

It’s what the plan is.

It does not work out like you intend it to.

It goes in a whole new direction.

Because when he comes close enough, you manage to get a hold on his shoulder, which gets you a hopefully not deadly slice over your abdomen for your efforts. You are moving quickly, seconds away from stabbing the katana through the bottom of his jaw. But then your fingers touch a bare spot on his shoulder where his suit had gotten torn, and there’s a sparkler going off in your brain, a sizzling sensation that settles in the back of your head as feelings of excitement, adrenaline, and happiness that are not your own speeds through your mind.

You gasp out loud.

You can’t help yourself.

Because you know what that was.

And there is no fucking way.

WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE. 

FUCK.

Fucking no.

A soulmate.

You have a fucking soulmate??????

And this is how you fucking meet him????

In all of your turmoil, you have dropped the katana that was destined to go through Red’s skull. He is a few paces behind you, not immediately attacking, just watching you as you turn around in your now mostly frozen state.

“Wh-”

“Touch me.” Red blinks, owlishly even with the white eyes of his mask.

“Wow, so forward. You know, con-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You march over to him, and in what seems to be confusion he lets you tug the glove of his hand that is not holding his katana. You interlace your fingers, the motion absurdly tender for the moment that is currently playing out. You see his eyes widen behind the mask, and you are sure his mouth opens and closes several times even hidden as it is.

“What the fuck.” The words are so soft out his mouth that you are not even sure he said them. Not that it matters, because a second later he is wrenching his hand back like you burned him. He runs past you, and you watch as he picks up his katana where you dropped it, and then keeps running after that brief slowdown, heading towards a door you hadn’t noticed while you were fighting. You startle yourself into action finally, following him, but he’s out the door before you can reach him.

On the other side there’s a hallway, and his back is quickly retreating, and all you feel is panic. You are not sure which of you it is coming from.

You try to keep up with him through multiple hallways, but he’s fast, getting out of the building before you do. It’s enough of a headstart that you only see backlights and hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding away.

You run over to where the cars you all arrived in earlier are parked, but of fucking course all tires are slashed. Not like you had any of the keys anyway, but they would have been easy enough to find in some dead man's pockets.

“Fucking MOTHERFUCKER!” You know he can’t hear you, but you hope Red feels your frustration through your bond as you punch the hood of a car, denting the metal.

(Part 2)

[mystic-writings]

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

masterlist | navigation

2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to. 

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue. 

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members. 

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.” 

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention. 

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.” 

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator. 

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother. 

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back. 

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly. 

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked. 

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so  long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him. 

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker. 

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left. 

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now. 

 Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you. 

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed. 

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though. 

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt. 

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here. 

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses. 

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.” 

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.” 

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed,  taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.” 

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him. 

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.” 

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.” 

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye. 

“Don’t be.” He whispered. 

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It  didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.” 

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.” 

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.” 

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath. 

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay. 

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for headcanoning deadnames for trans characters for symbolism purposes?

im a trans guy (minor if it matters) who's been a fan of this one show for a little over a year. none of the characters are canonically trans, but there's a lot of trans allegories to be drawn from the material if you're me or my mutuals at least. the two main characters are both male and i ended up developing an au where they're both explicitly transmasc as a way for me to just explore trans themes in an alternate narrative. i haven't begun writing it yet but definitely plan to once i feel like it's solidly locked in my brain, and i've been sharing snippets & concepts every so often.

part of this was thinking of how they would've chosen their current names, and name symbolism got me considering what they would've changed them away from as well. one character i thought could've initially been named after his mother so i can draw contrasts between the two, and the name i decided on for her has a meaning that highlights her relationship with her father (and the character's relationship with his father in turn); it's also the name of the character's daughter figure in the show. a lot of the other main character's backstory kind of revolves around his dead sister, so i thought by making his deadname that sister's name then i could turn that into an allegory about transness and childhood and sibling death (and sororicide but we don't have time to unpack all that). i don't plan on ever explicitly referring to the characters by their deadname in the narration, except maybe in an ironic tone, but i think it would be cool to sort of sprinkle in references as subtext to just give the readers something more to chew on.

the thing is i've seen posts around talking about how nice it is to make trans characters/headcanons without once considering their deadnames, or how weird it is for people to consider them, and i definitely agree with the sentiment; one of the biggest goals for many trans people is for their past selves to be completely irrelevant, and i feel a bit guilty for perpetuating something so painful for the general community.

but i still don't think i'm an asshole in any way since these are literally just characters and obviously i'm not going around talking about real people's deadnames or anything. i just don't want to make people uncomfortable/trigger dysphoria if they find someone talking about deadnames for a trans charactsr they're attached to (i've definitely had that happen myself when reading trans fics, enough that i had to stop reading, and i don't know how you'd even tag for something like that). if the general gut reaction to this ask is negative then i'll probably consider just not talking about the deadnames unless someone asks about it, since they're not crucial to the plot at all, just some uhh not so fun tidbits.

anyway sorry this is so long for something i feel like might be a non-issue that i'm overthinking. if you somehow guessed the fandom have a chocolate 🫀 if you're one of my few mutuals who knows who i am from the details of the au then um pretend you didnt see this post.

What are these acronyms?