So Cute!

So cute!

embers – choi soobin

word count: 16.4k

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: After a devastating breakup in Seoul, Y/N returns to her small hometown, seeking solace in the familiar but finding her past more complicated than she remembered. As she reconnects with her family, twin brother Beomgyu, and her childhood friends Ryujin and Soobin, the unresolved feelings she has for Soobin begin to resurface. Amidst the backdrop of small-town life and the warmth of old friendships, Y/N must navigate the pain of her past to discover whether her heart truly belongs in the place she left behind—or in the arms of the person who's always been there, waiting.

genre: love next door!au, childhood friends to lovers, slowburn, fluff, suggestive themes

The train slows as it nears the station, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks gradually fading. Outside the window, the cityscape of Seoul has long since given way to the rolling hills and open fields of Gwangcheon, the small town you once called home. You haven’t been back in years, not since you left for university and the bright lights of the city. Now, the sight of it fills you with a mixture of anxiety and reluctant nostalgia.

Your reflection in the window stares back at you, eyes still puffy from the sleepless nights that have plagued you since the breakup. Seoul was supposed to be your fresh start, your escape from the confines of small-town life. Instead, it became the place where everything fell apart.

His name was Daehyun. You met during your second year of university, in a café just off campus where you both liked to study. He had a warm smile, the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the room, and a outgoing personality that drew you in. He was different from anyone you’d ever met—sophisticated, ambitious, and completely in control of his life. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

For a while, everything was perfect. He introduced you to a world you’d only ever dreamed of—fancy restaurants, art galleries, weekend trips to places you’d never been. He made you feel special, important, like you were part of something bigger. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. 

He became distant, absorbed in his work and his own life. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he was busy, that he still cared. But the late-night arguments started, his voice cold and cutting as he accused you of being too needy, too demanding. You tried to make it work, to hold onto the relationship that had once made you so happy. But it was like trying to hold water in your hands—the more you tried, the more it slipped away.

The final straw came when you found out he’d been seeing someone else, a girl from his work. The betrayal cut deep, shattering the last remnants of the trust you’d once had in him. You confronted him, hoping for an apology, for some sign that he still cared. But all he said was that he didn’t see a future with you, that it was better to end things now before it got worse.

You left his apartment that night, your heart in pieces, the life you’d built in Seoul suddenly meaningless. You couldn’t stay there, surrounded by memories of him, by the constant reminders of what you’d lost. So you packed your things, bought a train ticket, and left the city behind without a word to anyone.

As the train pulls into the station, you force yourself to take a deep breath. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face your family and the questions you know are coming. But there’s no turning back now. The past few months have been a blur of pain and confusion, and all you can do is hope that coming home will help you find some semblance of peace.

The station is small, just as you remember it, with only a handful of people waiting on the platform. As you step off the train, your suitcase rolling behind you, you spot Beomgyu leaning against the hood of the family car. He hasn’t changed much—your twin brother is tall and lean, with the same mischievous glint in his eyes that’s been there since you were kids. But there’s something else in his expression now, something softer, more understanding.

When he sees you, his face lights up with a smile that makes your heart ache with a bittersweet mix of relief and guilt. He pushes off the car and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug before you can say anything.

“Hey, you,” he says, his voice warm and familiar. “You made it.”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “Yeah. I’m here.”

He pulls back, studying your face with a concerned frown. “You okay?”

You manage a shaky smile. “Not really. But I will be.”

He nods, seeming to understand. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The drive through town is quiet, the silence between you and Beomgyu filled with unspoken words. The streets of Gwangcheon look almost exactly as they did when you left—small shops with faded signs, the old school building, and the park where you and Beomgyu used to play. The familiarity is comforting, but also disorienting, like stepping into a past you’re not sure you belong to anymore.

Beomgyu keeps glancing over at you as he drives, his expression thoughtful. “Mom’s going to be surprised,” he says after a while. “You didn’t give her any warning.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to tell her. Or what to say.”

“She’ll understand,” he says firmly. “She’s just going to be happy you’re home.”

You nod, hoping he’s right. You haven’t told anyone the full story—not your parents, not Beomgyu, not even your closest friends. It’s too raw, too painful to put into words. But you know you can’t avoid it forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face the questions, the concern, the inevitable pity.

When you pull up to the house, the familiar sight of it brings a rush of memories. It’s a modest place, with a small garden out front that your mother has always taken pride in. The curtains in the living room window flutter slightly, a sign that someone inside has noticed your arrival.

Beomgyu grabs your suitcase from the trunk and gives you a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admit, but you follow him up the path anyway, your heart pounding in your chest.

He opens the door without knocking, calling out, “Mom! We’re here!”

You step into the entryway, the familiar scent of home—lavender and something faintly floral—washing over you. It’s a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. You can hear footsteps coming down the hall, and then your mother appears, her face lighting up with surprise and confusion as she sees you standing there.

“Y/N?” she says, her voice filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

You try to smile, but it feels forced. “Surprise?”

For a moment, she just stares at you, as if trying to convince herself that you’re really here. Then she steps forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you with a familiarity that brings tears to your eyes. You can feel the tension in her shoulders, the worry she’s trying to hide, but she doesn’t say anything, just holds you like she’s afraid to let go.

After a long moment, she pulls back, her hands still resting on your shoulders as she studies your face. “What happened, sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I…I needed to get away. From Seoul. From everything.”

Her expression softens, and she nods, understanding without you needing to explain further. “You’re home now,” she says gently. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu sets your suitcase down by the stairs and gives you a small smile. “I’ll take your stuff up to your room.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his quiet support.

Your mother guides you into the living room, where the afternoon light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the familiar furniture. You sit down on the sofa, feeling the weight of the past few months pressing down on you. Your mother sits beside you, her hand resting on yours, offering silent comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly, her voice full of concern.

You shake your head, the tears threatening to spill over. “Not yet. I just…I need some time.”

She nods, squeezing your hand gently. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart. We’re here for you.”

The warmth of her words wraps around you like a blanket, easing some of the tension that has been sitting in your chest. You lean back against the sofa, letting out a long breath as you try to relax. The house is quiet, the only sound the distant ticking of the old clock on the mantel.

Beomgyu returns a few minutes later, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. “Everything’s in your room,” he says, sitting down on the armchair across from you. “Figured you might want to unpack later.”

You nod, too exhausted to do much more than that. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that tells you he’s just as relieved as you are to have you home. “What are brothers for?”

Your mother glances between the two of you, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. “Why don’t we have some tea? I just made a fresh pot.”

You agree, grateful for the distraction. As she heads to the kitchen, Beomgyu gives you a knowing look. “Want to sneak out?”

You laugh, slightly taken aback before shaking your head. You’ve been away so long, too long, and it’s made you momentarily forget how much you missed your brother and all of his mischief.

When your mother returns with the tea, the three of you settle into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the house seeping into your bones. For the first time in weeks, you feel a small flicker of hope, like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay again.

You sit with Beomgyu and your mother, sipping tea in the cozy living room. The warmth of the tea combined with the comforting atmosphere starts to thaw the cold ache in your chest. Your mother chatters about the latest town gossip, the news she knows you haven’t kept up with since moving to Seoul. Beomgyu chimes in now and then, adding his own commentary that makes your mother smile and shake her head in that fond, exasperated way she always does with him.

You’re beginning to feel a sense of normalcy, like maybe you can fit back into this life, even after everything that’s happened. But just as you start to relax, the sound of the front door opening interrupts the moment.

Your father’s voice echoes from the hallway, a familiar deep rumble that always made you feel safe as a child. “Honey, I’m home! You’ll never guess what—” He stops mid-sentence as he steps into the living room, his eyes landing on you. For a second, he just stares, as if trying to process whether or not you’re real. 

“Y/N?” His voice is filled with disbelief, his eyes wide as he looks at you. “Am I dreaming, or is my daughter really sitting on my couch?”

You stand up, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “It’s me, Dad. I’m home.”

He blinks a few times, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “Well, I’ll be! The prodigal daughter returns!” He strides across the room and wraps you in a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground like he used to when you were little. You laugh, the sound surprising you with how natural it feels.

When he finally sets you down, he steps back and gives you a once-over, his expression a mix of concern and affection. “What brings you back to our little corner of the world? You didn’t even tell us you were coming!”

Your mother, who had been watching with a fond smile, steps in before you can answer. “She needed a break from the city, that’s all. And we’re just happy to have her back, aren’t we?”

“Happy?” Your dad scoffs playfully. “That’s an understatement! This calls for a celebration!” He claps his hands together, then turns to Beomgyu. “Go grab that cake from the fridge, son. We’ve got something to celebrate now!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes but grins, heading to the kitchen to fetch the cake. You can’t help but smile at your dad’s enthusiasm. He’s always been the lighthearted one, the one who could turn any situation into something to laugh about. It’s comforting, especially after everything you’ve been through.

As you all settle back into the living room with slices of cake, your dad starts telling stories from work, exaggerating the mundane until you’re all laughing so hard your sides hurt. For a moment, you forget about the heartbreak, the betrayal, and the uncertainty. Here, with your family, things feel almost normal again.

After a while, the conversation turns quieter, the evening settling in around you. You glance out the window, the sky a deep indigo as night takes hold. It’s been a long day, and the emotional toll of coming home is starting to catch up with you.

“I think I’m going to head up to my room,” you say, rising from the sofa. “It’s been a long day.”

Your mother looks up at you, her eyes soft with understanding. “Of course, sweetheart. Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Beomgyu nods, still munching on his cake. “Yeah, you’ll need your energy for Mom’s full interrogation tomorrow.”

You laugh softly, but there’s a sadness in it, too. You wave goodnight and head upstairs, the familiar creak of the wooden steps under your feet. Your room is exactly as you left it—well, almost. There are a few changes, little signs that your mother has kept it clean and cozy even in your absence. The bed is freshly made, and the shelves are dusted, but everything else is just as it was when you left for Seoul.

You set your suitcase down and walk over to the window, looking out at the quiet street. It’s so different from the bustling chaos of Seoul, where everything felt like it was moving too fast, too uncontrollably. Here, everything is still, calm, almost eerily peaceful. You sit on the edge of your bed, the weight of the day finally pressing down on you. The ache in your chest that you’ve been holding at bay all evening starts to grow, and you can feel the tears welling up behind your eyes.

But before you can let yourself break down, there’s a soft tapping at your window.

You freeze, confused, then look over. Your heart skips a beat when you see Ryujin standing outside, a wide grin on her face, her breath fogging up the glass. She waves at you, her smile so familiar it makes you want to cry.

You scramble to open the window, and she immediately climbs inside with the grace and ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. As soon as she’s in, she tackles you in a hug, nearly knocking you off the bed.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Ryujin says, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief. “When my mom said she saw you coming home, I thought she was joking!”

You laugh, the sound choked by the emotion in your throat, and hug her back tightly. “I’m here. I’m really here.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes scanning your face with concern. “I knew something was up when I didn’t hear from you for a while, but I didn’t expect this. Are you okay?”

You shake your head, tears finally spilling over. “Not really. But being here…it helps.”

Ryujin’s expression softens, and she wipes away your tears with her thumb. “You’re home now. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You nod, unable to speak as more tears fall. She pulls you into another hug, her presence a comfort you didn’t realize you needed so badly. The two of you sit there for a long time, just holding each other in the dim light of your room.

Eventually, Ryujin pulls back and flops onto your bed, patting the spot beside her. “Come on, let’s catch up. It’s been way too long since we had one of our late-night talks.”

You smile through your tears and join her, the two of you lying side by side like you used to in high school. The conversation flows easily, like no time has passed at all. She tells you about everything that’s happened in Gwangcheon since you left—who’s dating who, the latest school scandals, and all the little things you’ve missed.

As the night wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your breakup and the move back home easing just a little. 

“So…have you seen Soobin yet?”

You stiffen slightly, the name bringing back a flood of memories you’ve been trying to keep at bay. Soobin, your childhood friend, the boy who lived next door. The boy who was always there, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed him. 

“No,” you say quietly, staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

Ryujin rolls onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you. “He’s been around, you know. Helping his mom with the garden, hanging out at the old spots. I think he’ll be really happy to see you.”

You nod, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and fear. You’ve kept in touch with Soobin, but it’s been sporadic, the two of you drifting apart as you got older and your lives took different paths. But now that you’re back, there’s a part of you that’s terrified of what seeing him again might mean.

Ryujin seems to sense your hesitation and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “It’ll be okay, Y/N. He’s still Soobin, and you’re still you. Just…talk to him. Like old times.”

You nod again, but the knot in your stomach doesn’t loosen. You know you’ll have to face him eventually, just like you have to face everything else. But for tonight, you’re grateful to have Ryujin by your side, helping you navigate the tangled mess of your emotions.

As the two of you talk late into the night, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more like the girl who used to lie here with her best friend, dreaming about the future and everything it held. 

You wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs, the scent of your mother’s pancakes filling the air. The sun is just beginning to filter through your curtains, and for a moment, you feel a sense of peace, as if the world outside your window isn’t so complicated. It’s a sharp contrast to the rush and chaos of Seoul mornings, where you barely had time to grab a piece of toast before running out the door. 

You roll over, half expecting to see Ryujin still curled up next to you, but the spot beside you is empty. Her absence pulls you from the cocoon of warmth you’d wrapped yourself in. Your mind flickers with the memory of last night, the way she’d asked about Soobin, and how much his name had unsettled you. You stretch out the tension from your limbs, a part of you grateful that she didn’t push the conversation further.

After quickly changing into something comfortable, you head downstairs, following the sounds of clattering dishes and the hum of conversation. When you reach the kitchen, you find your mother at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. Your father is seated at the table, sipping his coffee and reading the morning paper. Beomgyu, ever the night owl, is half-asleep with his head on the table, barely managing to keep his eyes open. 

“Good morning,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Beomgyu. He grunts a sleepy response, still not fully awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mother replies brightly, turning to give you a warm smile. “I was just about to call you down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Your dad peers over the top of his newspaper, giving you a nod of greeting. “Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you say, though the truth is that your sleep was fitful, your mind too busy with thoughts of everything that’s changed. But you don’t want to burden your parents with that, not when they’re so happy to have you home.

Just as you’re about to ask where Ryujin went, the front door swings open with a loud creak, and she bursts into the kitchen, a wide grin on her face. And right behind her is Soobin.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, the memories of last night’s conversation rushing back. He looks almost exactly as you remember—tall, with that familiar mop of dark hair falling into his eyes. There’s something in the way he carries himself that’s different now, though—a quiet confidence that wasn’t there when you were kids.

“Look who I found wandering around outside!” Ryujin announces, her voice full of mischief. She’s practically dragging Soobin by the arm as she pulls him into the kitchen. He gives her an exasperated look, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” Soobin says, his voice warm but slightly hesitant as his eyes meet yours. You can tell he’s unsure, probably wondering how you’re going to react after all this time.

“Morning, Soobin!” your mother says cheerfully, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to be here. “Sit down, I’ll get you a plate. We’ve got plenty of pancakes.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Soobin replies, taking a seat at the table. Ryujin plops down next to him, grinning at the both of you like she knows something you don’t. 

You offer Soobin a small smile, still feeling the awkwardness lingering between you, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of seeing him again. “Hey, Soobin.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, returning your smile. His voice is softer than you remember, but there’s a steadiness to it that reassures you. The tension between you begins to ease just a little.

“Finally,” Beomgyu mumbles, pushing himself up from the table, more awake now that the smell of pancakes has fully roused him. “I thought I was the only one getting dragged out of bed this early.”

Ryujin snickers. “Oh, please, Beomgyu. You’re always the last one up. I had to do all the work to get him here.”

Soobin chuckles, shaking his head. “She practically jumped through my window to get me up. I’m still not sure how she got into my house.”

Beomgyu grins, the drowsiness now fully replaced by his usual humor. “That’s just Ryujin for you. No one is safe from her morning raids.”

“Exactly,” Ryujin says, unrepentant. She looks at Soobin, then at you, a glint of something in her eyes. “Anyway, I figured you’d want to see each other. It’s been way too long.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but you quickly focus on your breakfast, not wanting to let the moment become too heavy. Still, you can feel Soobin’s gaze on you, and when you glance up, he’s watching you with that same soft, almost nostalgic expression.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “It has been.”

The conversation around the table soon picks up, with your dad jumping in to share some of the ridiculous stories from his job, while Ryujin and Beomgyu start bickering over the last pancake. Soobin joins in, his laugh filling the room and making you remember all the times the three of you hung out here after school, eating snacks your mom prepared while you joked around until your sides hurt.

For a while, the stiffness between you and Soobin fades, and you find yourselves slipping back into the easy childhood friendship you once shared. He teases you about your terrible aim in the old treehouse slingshot wars, and you fire back about his disastrous attempt at baking cookies that one time. Even Beomgyu gets in on it, reminding Soobin of the time he got stuck in the fence trying to sneak into your backyard.

“Oh my god, I thought we agreed never to speak of that again,” Soobin groans, his face turning slightly red as everyone laughs.

“No way, man,” Beomgyu says, grinning. “That’s one of the all-time classics. Right up there with Ryujin breaking the garden gnome.”

“That gnome was creepy anyway,” Ryujin protests, but she’s laughing, too.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, the sound coming easier than it has in weeks. It feels good, like a small piece of the puzzle that is your life is clicking back into place. The breakfast stretches longer than you expected, the food mostly forgotten as the four of you talk and joke like old times.

Eventually, though, the clock on the wall chimes, reminding Soobin that he has to go. He glances at it and sighs, reluctantly pushing his chair back.

“I should head out,” he says, looking a bit regretful. “Work and all that.”

You nod, feeling a pang of disappointment that surprises you. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over.”

Soobin smiles at you, and this time, it reaches his eyes. “Anytime, Y/N. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say softly, and you mean it.

He says his goodbyes to your parents, who wave him off with promises to invite him over for dinner soon. Ryujin walks him to the door, but not before giving you a knowing look over her shoulder.

Once he’s gone, the house feels a little quieter, a little emptier, though the warmth from breakfast still lingers. Beomgyu leans back in his chair, stretching with a contented sigh.

“Well, that was nice,” he says, then gives you a teasing smile. “You and Soobin seemed to get along pretty well, huh?”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush slightly. “Shut up, Beomgyu.”

“Come on, he’s just teasing,” Ryujin says, returning to the kitchen with a satisfied grin. “It was nice seeing you two together again. Felt like old times.”

You smile, though there’s a lot left unsaid. “Yeah, it did.”

The sun hangs low in the sky as you make your way back home, the weight of the grocery bags in your hands grounding you in the moment. The streets of your hometown are quieter now, bathed in the soft hues of evening, and the familiarity of it all is both comforting and unsettling. You pass by houses you know so well, each one holding memories from a time when life felt simpler.

When you reach your house, you notice a familiar figure standing on a ladder just outside the front door. Soobin is there, fiddling with a light fixture, his tall frame stretched to its limit as he tries to reach the wiring. You pause for a moment, watching him, a mix of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. 

As if sensing your presence, Soobin glances down and catches your eye, a grin spreading across his face. “Back already? I thought I had more time to finish this before you got home.”

“Guess I’m faster than you thought,” you reply, smirking as you walk up to the door. “What are you doing, anyway? Isn’t that light Beomgyu’s job?”

Soobin scoffs, shaking his head as he returns to his work. “Beomgyu can barely change a light bulb without breaking something. Your mom called me over. Said this thing’s been flickering for weeks.”

You chuckle, knowing all too well how disastrous Beomgyu can be with household tasks. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m surprised you’re the one she called, though.”

Soobin shrugs, still focused on the light. “She knows I’m good at this stuff. And I guess I can’t say no to her.”

You stand there for a moment, watching as he works. There’s something oddly satisfying about seeing him like this, so at ease with himself, even in the small, mundane task of fixing a light. It’s a stark contrast to the image of him you had in your mind all those years in Seoul, where he was just a memory, something to miss in quiet moments.

Finally, he finishes up, stepping down from the ladder and giving the light a final check. “There. All fixed,” he announces, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Impressive,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe. “But you missed a spot.”

Soobin’s eyes narrow playfully. “Where?”

You point to a random spot on the light, smirking as he follows your finger. “Right there.”

He rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re messing with him. “Very funny, Y/N.”

You laugh, pushing off the doorframe. “You’re welcome. Now, help me with these groceries.”

He obliges, taking a few of the heavier bags from your hands as you both head inside. The house is warm and cozy, the smells of dinner already wafting through the air. Your mom calls out a greeting from the kitchen, but it’s clear she’s busy with preparations.

You and Soobin head to the living room, where you set the bags down on the coffee table. The room is quiet, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and it’s strange being alone with him again, after all this time.

“So, how long are you staying?” Soobin asks casually, breaking the silence as he takes a seat on the couch.

You hesitate, knowing that question has been on the tip of everyone’s tongues since you arrived. “I’m not sure yet. I guess it depends.”

“Depends on what?” he asks, genuinely curious.

You shrug, avoiding his gaze. “A lot of things.”

He watches you for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure you out, then changes the subject. “You still remember how to cook, right? Or do I need to take over in the kitchen?”

You scoff, grabbing the bag of vegetables and heading to the kitchen. “Please, I’ve been living on my own for years. I’m pretty sure I know how to chop a few vegetables.”

Soobin follows you, leaning against the counter as you start to unpack the groceries. “Just checking. You never know, city life might’ve turned you into one of those takeout-only types.”

“Not a chance,” you say, setting a cutting board on the counter and grabbing a knife. “But thanks for the concern.”

He smirks, watching as you begin slicing the vegetables with practiced ease. “I’m impressed. Maybe you have changed.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’re the one who’s changed, not me. I never would’ve pegged you as the handy type.”

He laughs softly. “People can surprise you.”

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, exchanging banter as you prepare dinner. It feels almost like old times, the bickering and teasing coming naturally, even after all the years apart. But there’s an underlying tension, a sense that there’s more to say, more to ask.

As you chop up the last of the vegetables, Soobin clears his throat, the casual tone of the conversation shifting slightly. “So, uh… are you still with that guy? Daehyun, or something?” he hesitates when saying his name, like he can’t quite remember it, but it sounds almost as if he can exactly remember.

Your hands freeze for a moment, the knife hovering over the cutting board. You knew this question would come eventually, but you hadn’t expected it so soon, or so directly. You glance at Soobin, who’s watching you with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

“No,” you say quietly, resuming your chopping at a slower pace. “We… broke up.”

Soobin’s brow furrows in concern. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, forcing a smile as you set the knife down. “It was… a long time coming, I guess.”

He nods slowly, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You take a deep breath, debating how much to tell him. You haven’t even told your parents the whole truth, not wanting to worry them more than necessary. But with Soobin, it feels different—like maybe you owe him at least some of the truth.

“It just… wasn’t working out,” you say, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “We wanted different things. Or rather, he wanted something I couldn’t give him.”

Soobin’s gaze softens, and you can tell he’s piecing it together, but he doesn’t push. “Sounds like he was an idiot.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe I was the idiot for sticking around as long as I did.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. “You’re not an idiot, Y/N. Sometimes things just don’t work out, no matter how much you want them to.”

You meet his eyes, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah. I just wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, Soobin’s presence a steadying force as you let the weight of your words settle between you. It’s not the whole story, not by a long shot, but it’s more than you’ve told anyone else. And for now, that’s enough.

“Well,” Soobin says after a moment, his tone lighter as he pushes off the counter, “if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to make fun of, you know where to find me.”

You smile, genuinely this time. “Thanks, Soobin. I appreciate that.”

He grins, that easy, familiar smile that you’ve missed more than you realized. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As you both continue preparing dinner, the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, the tension between you easing into something more comfortable, more familiar. It’s strange how quickly you’ve fallen back into this dynamic, but it’s also comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

And you allow yourself to think for a moment that maybe being back home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur of small-town rhythms, a stark contrast to the constant noise and motion of Seoul. You find yourself falling back into old routines, hanging out with Ryujin, spending time with your family, and catching up with Soobin. It’s comforting, in a way, but also unsettling—like you’re living in a strange limbo, where everything is familiar but slightly off-kilter.

Ryujin is a constant presence, as she always was, dragging you out of the house whenever she can. Whether it’s to grab a coffee, take a walk around the neighborhood, or just sit and gossip like you used to in high school, she’s there, her energy relentless. She never pushes you to talk about why you came home, though. She’s content to let you come to her when you’re ready, and for that, you’re grateful.

Your parents, on the other hand, aren’t as subtle. Your mom, especially, hovers more than usual, her concern evident in the way she keeps asking if you’re okay, if you need anything, if there’s something you want to talk about. You deflect with practiced ease, reassuring her that you’re fine, that you just needed a break from the city. She seems to accept it, but you can tell she’s not convinced.

Soobin is around often, whether he’s coming over to help with something around the house or just hanging out with you and Beomgyu. You fall back into an easy friendship with him, the teasing and bickering coming naturally, just like it always did. But there’s something different now, a tension that lingers beneath the surface, something neither of you acknowledges but both of you feel.

It’s on one of these typical days that Soobin invites you out for dinner with some of his coworkers. “It’ll be fun,” he promises as the two of you lounge in the living room, flipping through TV channels. “They’re a good group. Plus, I could use someone to keep me in check.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Since when do you need someone to keep you in check?”

Soobin grins. “Since I started working with these guys. They like to drink. A lot.”

You laugh, but you agree to go. The thought of getting out of the house, doing something different, is appealing. Plus, you’re curious to meet the people Soobin spends his time with these days.

That night, you find yourself in a cozy, bustling restaurant, surrounded by Soobin and his coworkers. They’re a lively bunch, full of jokes and stories, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel at ease with them. The drinks start flowing almost as soon as you sit down, and before long, the whole group is in high spirits.

You find yourself laughing more than you have in weeks, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins as you listen to Soobin’s coworkers tell ridiculous stories about him. Soobin, for his part, takes it all in stride, grinning sheepishly as his friends poke fun at him.

At some point, the conversation turns to confessions—nothing too serious, just silly admissions brought on by the alcohol. One of Soobin’s coworkers, a guy named Jisoo, starts it off, confessing that he once got caught sneaking into his girlfriend’s house by her parents, who thought he was a burglar. The table erupts in laughter, and soon everyone’s sharing their own embarrassing stories.

When it’s Soobin’s turn, he hesitates, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “Alright, but you can’t judge me too harshly, okay?”

You raise your glass, already giggling. “No promises.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. So… back in high school, I had the biggest crush on someone, and I spent an entire year pretending to be terrible at math just so she’d tutor me.”

The table bursts into laughter, but the alcohol and thoughts in your mind start suddenly swirling around rapidly. Didn’t you give him algebra lessons in 10th grade? Maybe he’s talking about someone else…

“Did it work?” someone asks.

Soobin shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I passed algebra, didn’t I?”

The laughter continues, and you feel a strange warmth in your chest, and his added comment only continues to make your mind race. The night goes on, and the drinks keep coming, until you’re all a little too tipsy, the world spinning just enough to make everything feel surreal. The drinks have taken off the edge about Soobin’s comments, for a little while at least.

At some point, Soobin leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “You know, I really did have a crush on you back then.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden confession, but before you can respond, he pulls back, his eyes a little unfocused as he gives you a lopsided grin. “Too much to drink, huh?”

You smile softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I guess so,” you breath out, the word increasing its spinning around you but you’re not convinced it’s because of the alcohol anymore.

He chuckles, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Maybe.”

The moment hangs between you, charged with an intensity that’s almost too much to bear. But before anything else can happen, Soobin’s head lolls to the side, his eyes slipping shut as he mumbles something incoherent.

“Great,” you mutter, half-amused, half-exasperated as you try to shake him awake. “Soobin, come on, don’t pass out on me now.”

But he’s out cold, his breathing steady as he slumps against the table. You sigh, realizing there’s no way you’re getting him home by yourself. With a resigned smile, you pull out your phone and call Beomgyu.

He answers on the second ring, sounding more amused than concerned when you explain the situation. “Of course, he passed out. Why am I not surprised?”

“Just hurry up and get over here,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can’t carry him by myself.”

Beomgyu arrives a short while later, looking entirely too amused by the situation as he takes in the sight of Soobin slumped over the table. “Wow, he’s really out, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to laugh as you stand up. “Think you can handle him?”

Beomgyu snorts. “Do I have a choice?”

With some effort, the two of you manage to get Soobin on his feet, though he’s mostly dead weight, mumbling incoherently as you half-drag, half-carry him out of the restaurant. The fresh air hits you like a shock, clearing your head just enough to realize how ridiculous this all is.

“This is a disaster,” you mutter, struggling to keep Soobin upright as Beomgyu does most of the heavy lifting.

Beomgyu chuckles. “It’s a disaster you walked right into.”

Before long, you realize that even with Beomgyu’s help, getting Soobin all the way back home is going to be nearly impossible. You try to be optimistic, but when Soobin starts to slip from your grasp, you realize you need reinforcements.

“I think we need to call Ryujin,” you admit reluctantly, pulling out your phone again.

Beomgyu groans. “Do we have to?”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “We don’t have a choice, Gyu. I can barely keep him up, and you’re not exactly faring much better.”

Reluctantly, Beomgyu agrees, and you call Ryujin, who answers after a few rings, sounding half-asleep but entirely too eager to hear about your predicament. After a quick explanation, she promises to be there in a few minutes.

When Ryujin arrives, she takes one look at the situation and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I knew you two couldn’t handle this on your own.”

“Not helping, Ryujin,” Beomgyu grumbles, though there’s a smile on his face.

Together, the three of you somehow manage to get Soobin back to his place, collapsing into a heap of laughter and exhaustion once he’s safely on his bed. By then, the humor of the situation has fully set in, and you’re all giggling uncontrollably, the night’s events replaying in your minds.

Finally, when the laughter dies down, Ryujin nudges you playfully. “So, what was that about Soobin confessing his high school crush?”

Your cheeks flush, and you try to deflect, but Ryujin is relentless, teasing you mercilessly as Beomgyu joins in. It’s all in good fun, though, and you can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you’ve missed more than you realized.

Eventually, the night winds down, and you all head home, leaving Soobin to sleep off his hangover. As you climb into bed, you can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, the memory of Soobin’s confession lingering in your thoughts.

It’s been a long time since you felt this way, and despite everything that’s happened, you can’t help but wonder what the future might hold.

You wake up to a dull throb in your head, the remnants of last night's drinks still pulsing behind your temples. Your room is far too bright, and you curse yourself for not closing the curtains before collapsing into bed.

You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already late morning, far later than you usually sleep, but considering the amount you drank last night, it’s a miracle you’re awake at all. Groggily, you swing your legs out of bed and stand, feeling the slight wobble in your knees as your body adjusts to being upright.

The house is quiet as you pad downstairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under your weight. The smell of coffee hits you as you enter the kitchen, and you sigh in relief. Your parents must already be up. Sure enough, you find a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter, a few mugs stacked neatly beside it. You pour yourself a cup, cradling it between your hands as you savor the warmth seeping into your skin.

After a few sips, you feel more human, the caffeine doing its job. Now that you’re awake and somewhat functional, you start rifling through the fridge and pantry, searching for the ingredients you need. You’ve made hangover soup enough times to know the recipe by heart, and it isn’t long before you have everything laid out on the counter.

As the soup simmers on the stove, filling the kitchen with its comforting aroma, you smile to yourself. Soobin is in for a rude awakening, but you know he’ll appreciate it in the end. With that thought in mind, you grab a spoon and taste the broth, nodding in satisfaction at the flavor.

Once the soup is done, you ladle it into a bowl, then take a deep breath and head to the house across from your own, belonging to the Choi’s. You knock lightly on the door at first, then a bit louder when you don’t hear any response. A moment later, Soobin’s mom opens the door, a surprised smile on her face.

“Y/N! What a lovely surprise,” she says warmly, stepping aside to let you in. “I didn’t expect to see you this early. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Mrs. Choi,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m okay, just a little hungover. I figured Soobin might need this more than I do, though.”

She glances down at the bowl in your hands and chuckles. “Hangover soup? You’re such a thoughtful girl. He’s still asleep, of course, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

You step inside, the familiar scent of the house comforting in a way that makes you feel instantly at ease. “I’m going to wake him up now,” you say, feeling a little mischievous. “He’s had enough sleep.”

“Good luck with that,” Mrs. Choi says with a knowing smile. “He can be a bit grumpy in the mornings, especially after a night out.”

You grin. “I’m counting on it.”

Heading upstairs, you push open Soobin’s bedroom door with your hip, balancing the bowl in one hand. The room is dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut, and Soobin is sprawled out on his bed, completely dead to the world. He’s lying on his stomach, one arm dangling off the side of the bed, his hair a tousled mess. 

You set the bowl down on his nightstand, taking a moment to appreciate how peaceful he looks when he’s sleeping. But only a moment. You can’t resist. Reaching out, you grab his pillow and whack him over the head with it—not too hard, but enough to jolt him awake.

He groans, a low sound of protest, but doesn’t move. So you hit him again, a little harder this time, just for good measure.

“Soobin, get up!” you say, your voice tinged with amusement. “I made you breakfast.”

He mumbles something incoherent, burying his face deeper into the pillow. You roll your eyes, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

“Choi Soobin, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to eat all this soup myself.”

That seems to do the trick. He slowly lifts his head, squinting at you through bleary eyes. “Y/N? What… what time is it?”

“Time for you to wake up and eat,” you reply, smirking. “Come on, I’ve got hangover soup ready. You need it.”

Soobin groans again but finally drags himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. He looks terrible—pale, with dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions—but you have to admit, there’s something endearing about seeing him like this. Vulnerable, almost.

“Ugh, my head is killing me,” he mutters, wincing as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you drink like a fish,” you tease, forcing him up and down the stairs. 

Once seated at the table, you pour him a bowl of soup before placing it down in front of him. “Here, this will help.”

He takes the bowl from you, staring down at it like it’s a lifeline. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, his voice thick with gratitude.

“I know,” you reply with a grin, sitting down in front of him. “Now eat up before it gets cold.”

Soobin takes a tentative sip, then another, his expression softening as the warm broth soothes his hangover. “This is really good,” he mumbles between spoonfuls.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” you say, your tone light but with an undercurrent of truth. You’ve made this soup more times than you can count, for yourself, for friends… for your ex. But you push that thought away before it can take root, focusing instead on Soobin.

As he eats, you chat idly about nothing in particular, keeping the conversation light. Soobin slowly comes back to life, the soup and your presence working their magic. He’s still a bit pale, but at least he’s awake and functional now.

Just as he’s finishing up, you hear footsteps approaching from the hallway, and a moment later, Soobin’s mom pokes her head into the room.

“How’s our patient?” she asks with a smile, looking between the two of you.

“He’s alive,” you reply, grinning at Soobin’s unamused expression. “Barely.”

Another set of footsteps sound in the hall behind as Soobin’s father suddenly appears, his face a mix of surprise and happiness as he spots his son and yourself seated at the kitchen table. Soobin’s mom has moved into the kitchen behind you now, getting started on breakfast.

“Y/N! I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he says warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Choi,” you reply, returning his smile. “Just thought I’d check on Soobin and make sure he was still alive.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing you did. He always overdoes it when he goes out with his coworkers.”

“Morning, Dad,” Soobin mumbles, reaching for a piece of toast as his mother immediately sets the plate down on the table.

“Morning, son,” Mr. Choi replies, his tone amused. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Soobin mutters, shooting you a glare when you snicker. “Don’t think it was much for for Y/N either,” he responds, an amused smirk flashing upon his lips as he swiftly avoids your kick from underneath the table.

As you all start eating breakfast, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and light teasing. You’ve always felt comfortable around Soobin’s parents—they’ve known you since you were a kid, after all—and it feels good to be here, surrounded by the warmth of family, even if it’s not your own.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Choi says at one point, turning to you with a curious expression. “How long are you planning to stay in town this time?”

You pause, the question catching you off guard. You haven’t really thought that far ahead, and the uncertainty of your answer weighs heavily on your mind.

“Um, I’m not sure yet,” you reply honestly, forcing a small smile. “I’m just taking things one day at a time.”

Mrs. Choi nods understandingly, reaching out to pat your hand. “That’s perfectly fine, dear. You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely touched by her kindness. “That means a lot.”

The conversation shifts after that, and you’re grateful for it. As much as you appreciate the Choi family’s concern, you’re not ready to delve into the reasons behind your return just yet.

As breakfast winds down, Soobin stands up to clear the table, but you’re not about to let him off the hook that easily. When he passes by you with a stack of plates, you subtly stick your foot out, and before he realizes what’s happening, he trips, stumbling forward with a startled yelp.

He catches himself before he falls, but not without glaring at you, his eyes narrowed in mock anger. “Really?”

You flash him an innocent smile. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

His parents watch the exchange with amused smiles, clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. “Careful, Y/N,” Mr. Choi says with a chuckle. “He might actually get you back for that one.”

You laugh, already stepping out of Soobin’s reach as he finishes clearing the table. “He can try,” you say, still grinning.

Soobin just shakes his head, clearly exasperated, but you can see the fondness in his eyes as he glances at you. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” you retort, dodging under his arm as he reaches out to flick your forehead. 

The rest of the morning passes in a haze of laughter and lighthearted teasing. After breakfast, you help Soobin’s mom with the dishes, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Soobin joins in occasionally, but mostly, he just listens from his stance half standing and half supporting his weight on the kitchen counter, still recovering from last night’s blackout.

For a while, it feels like nothing has changed, like you’ve slipped back into the easy life you’ve always had with Soobin and his family. It’s a comforting thought, one that brings a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. And one that allows you to forget about what Soobin said last night, for just a moment.

As you finish up the last of the dishes, you glance over at Soobin, who’s lounging on the couch in the living room, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed.

“You okay over there?” you call out, drying your hands on a dish towel.

He cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy smile. “Yeah, just trying to recover from the abuse you put me through this morning.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re such a drama queen.”

He just grins, not even bothering to argue. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he’s right—maybe you do love this, being here with him, with his family. Maybe, just maybe, this is exactly what you needed.

The summer sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. You sit at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea that’s long since gone cold. The house feels still, too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. You’ve managed to avoid any serious conversations with your mom since you returned home, but time has eventually caught up to you. 

Your mom enters the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She glances at you, then at the untouched tea, her brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lie, offering her a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

She doesn’t buy it. Of course, she doesn’t. She’s your mother, after all. She sighs, crossing the room to sit across from you, her gaze gentle but probing. “You’ve been back for weeks now, and you still haven’t told us what really happened in Seoul. You left so suddenly, without any explanation. Your father and I… we’re worried about you, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your throat tightening. You knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Mom, I just… I needed a break. Things weren’t going well, and I thought it would be good to come home for a while.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, sensing the evasiveness in your tone. “Not going well? You mean with your job? Or… was it something else?” She pauses, her voice softening further. “Y/N, was it Daehyun?”

The mention of him sends a pang through your chest, but you force yourself to stay composed. “We broke up,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It’s technically the truth, even if it’s not the whole story.

Your mom’s expression shifts, a mix of concern and confusion crossing her features. “You broke up? Why? I thought you two were serious. You were always talking about him, about how he was the one.”

You look down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “We were serious. But… things change, Mom. We just weren’t right for each other anymore.”

She shakes her head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “What do you mean, ‘not right for each other’? Did something happen? Did he do something?”

You shake your head quickly, too quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just… grew apart, I guess. It happens.”

Your mom’s eyes narrow further, the doubt clear in her gaze. “Grew apart? That doesn’t sound like a reason to just up and leave everything behind. You quit your job, Y/N. You loved that job. You loved your life in Seoul. And now you’re telling me you threw it all away because of some vague ‘growing apart’?”

“Mom, please,” you plead, your voice shaking. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

But she doesn’t relent. “You can’t just run away from your problems, Y/N. If something happened, you need to face it. You need to tell me what’s really going on.”

“I told you, we broke up!” you snap, your patience wearing thin. “I needed to get away, so I came home. That’s it.”

Your mom’s frustration finally boils over. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You broke up, so you threw your entire life away? You’re being ridiculous, Y/N! You had everything going for you—your career, your relationship—and you just walked away without a second thought?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you yell, the words spilling out before you can stop them. But you can’t take them back now, and the look of shock on your mom’s face only fuels the anger burning inside you. “You don’t understand, Mom. You don’t know what it was like.”

“Then help me understand!” she shouts back, standing up from the table. “You can’t just expect us to sit here and watch you fall apart without knowing why!”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t fall apart,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. I’m trying to move on, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Move on?” she scoffs. “You’re not moving on, Y/N. You’re running away, and you’re dragging us into it with you. You can’t just quit when things get tough. That’s not how life works!”

The dam finally breaks, and the tears spill over, hot and angry. “I was miserable for so long!” you cry, pushing back from the table. “You don’t know what I went through, and you never will because I can’t—” You choke on the words, unable to finish the sentence.

Your mom’s expression softens slightly, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface. “Y/N, whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m your mother. I just want to help you.”

But the anger has taken hold of you now, and you can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I can’t! You’ll never understand what it’s like to have your whole world ripped apart by someone you thought you could trust!”

Her face pales, the realization dawning on her as she finally grasps the gravity of what you’re saying. “Y/N… what did he do to you?”

You can’t answer. The words are stuck in your throat, choking you as the pain of it all comes rushing back. You can’t tell her the truth, can’t bear to see the look of pity and disappointment in her eyes.

Without another word, you turn and bolt for the door, the need to escape overwhelming. You can hear your mom calling after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. You burst out of the house, tears blurring your vision as you run down the driveway.

And that’s when you run straight into someone, nearly knocking them over. You stumble back, wiping at your eyes to see who it is.

Soobin stands there, his expression a mix of shock and concern. He’s holding a small basket, likely something his mom sent him over with, but he’s clearly forgotten all about it as he stares at you.

“Y/N? What happened?” he asks, his voice soft, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks too loudly.

You shake your head, trying to brush past him, but he gently grabs your arm, stopping you. “Wait, just… slow down. Talk to me.”

You can’t. You can’t talk to him, can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re going to fall apart. But the gentleness in his voice, the warmth in his touch, it’s too much. You can’t hold it in any longer.

You sprint down the street, the sound of your mother’s angry words still echoing in your ears. Your vision blurs with tears as you race toward the park, the one that sits just at the edge of the neighborhood where you spent so many summers playing with Beomgyu, Soobin, and Ryujin. It feels like you’re running from more than just the fight—like you’re running from everything you’ve been trying to hold together since you came back home.

The park is quiet, almost eerily so. The swings sway gently in the evening breeze, the only movement in the otherwise still space. You stumble to a stop by the playground, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you collapse onto the sidewalk, your legs unable to carry you any farther. Hugging your knees to your chest, you finally let the tears fall, your sobs quiet but intense, the weight of everything you’ve been bottling up crashing down on you all at once.

You don’t hear him approaching, but you sense Soobin before you see him, the sound of his hurried footsteps catching your attention. He’s out of breath, clearly having run after you the moment you bolted from the house. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stops a few feet away, his eyes searching your face with a mix of concern and sadness.

“Y/N…” he starts softly, taking a cautious step closer. “Come on… What happened back there?”

You don’t answer right away, too overwhelmed to speak. But Soobin doesn’t push. He just sinks down onto the sidewalk beside you, his presence solid and steady, like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s like he’s giving you the space to find your words, to figure out what to say.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you take a shaky breath and start talking. “I left because of him,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “My boyfriend… my ex. He cheated on me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with pain and betrayal. You can feel Soobin tense beside you, his hands curling into fists on his knees. But he stays quiet, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I found out a few months ago,” you say, your voice trembling as the memories flood back. “He’d been seeing someone else for weeks, maybe longer. I don’t even know how long it was going on. I just… I couldn’t stay after that. I couldn’t be around him, or our friends, or… or anything that reminded me of him. So, I left.”

The tears come harder now, spilling down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the images of him with someone else, the lies he told you, the way everything fell apart so quickly. “I quit my job because I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t do anything without thinking about him, about what he did. I felt like I was drowning, and I didn’t know how to keep going. I didn’t sleep or eat for days at a time. I wasn’t taking care of myself and… well it was either this or me going completely under. So, I ran away. I thought if I came back here, if I was with my family, I could start over. But it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple.”

Your voice cracks, the weight of everything you’ve been carrying finally too much to bear. You can’t hold it together anymore. The sobs wrack your body, and you bury your face in your hands, feeling utterly broken.

Soobin doesn’t say anything, but you feel his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. He holds you tightly, his grip firm and reassuring as he lets you cry into his chest. His other hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle but grounding, like he’s trying to anchor you to the present, to keep you from getting lost in the storm of your emotions.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “None of this is your fault, Y/N. You did what you had to do to survive. Don’t ever feel ashamed of that.”

You want to believe him, want to take comfort in his words, but it’s hard. The pain is still so raw, so overwhelming. But being here with Soobin, feeling his warmth, his steady presence, it helps. It makes the hurt just a little more bearable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely making it past your lips.

“What are you sorry for?” Soobin asks, his tone soft and confused.

“For everything,” you say, your voice shaking. “For not telling anyone, for shutting everyone out. For being so weak. I just didn’t want to be looked at like that girl anymore. I don’t think I can take it.”

“Hey,” Soobin says, gently tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness, Y/N. That’s strength.”

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to dismiss them. He means it—he really believes you’re strong, even when you don’t believe it yourself.

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to calm your breathing, your tears finally slowing. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now. Enough to make you feel a little less alone, a little less like you’re drowning.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning into his embrace, letting yourself take comfort in his presence.

Soobin just squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You stay like that for a while, the two of you sitting on the sidewalk in the quiet park, the world around you fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe again, like the weight on your chest has lifted just a little.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. Soobin watches you with that familiar mix of concern and fondness, his eyes soft as he takes in your expression.

“Do you want to go back?” he asks gently, nodding toward the direction of your house. “Or we can stay here for a bit longer if you need more time.”

You glance around the park, the memories of your childhood flooding back in a rush of nostalgia. This place has always been a refuge for you, a place where you felt safe. And now, with Soobin by your side, it still feels that way.

“Maybe just a little longer,” you say quietly, your voice steadier now. “I’m not ready to face her yet.”

He nods in understanding, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, the two of you sit in the fading light, side by side, the comforting silence between you speaking more than words ever could.

The weeks that follow your tearful confession in the park pass in a blur of change and acceptance. You finally muster the courage to tell your family the whole story, no longer holding back the pain and betrayal you’d been carrying alone. Your mother, after her initial shock and anger, softens as she listens to the truth of what happened in Seoul. The harsh words you exchanged that night seem distant now, replaced by an understanding that’s long overdue.

Your father, though quiet during your confession, offers you a comforting hug afterward, his voice filled with warmth as he reassures you that you’re home, and that’s what matters. Beomgyu is the easiest to talk to—his playful teasing makes it easier to break the tension, and soon, you find yourself laughing with him like old times.

Telling Ryujin is harder. You’ve always been able to rely on her, but admitting how broken you felt, even to your best friend, is difficult. But Ryujin listens without judgment, her eyes filled with the fierce loyalty you’ve always admired in her. When you finish, she wraps you in a tight hug and tells you that you’re stronger than you think, and that she’s proud of you for coming home.

As the days turn into weeks, you start to accept that Gwangcheon is where you’re going to be for a while. It’s not Seoul, but there’s a comfort in the familiar streets, the warm smiles of the people you’ve known your whole life, and the gentle pace of small-town living.

With Soobin’s help, and through one of his friends, you land a job at a good company nearby. It’s not the high-powered position you left behind in Seoul, but it’s steady work, and you find yourself gradually falling into a new routine. Your days become a mix of work, spending time with your family, and reconnecting with old friends.

The more time you spend with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu, the more you start to feel like yourself again. You laugh more easily, the pain of your past starting to dull as the present takes over. You’re still cautious, still a little guarded, but the walls you built around yourself are slowly coming down.

As summer draws to a close, Ryujin suggests a trip to a nearby beach town for a late summer getaway. It’s been a while since you’ve done something spontaneous, and the idea of a weekend away with your closest friends is too tempting to resist.

The four of you—Ryujin, Beomgyu, Soobin, and you—pile into Beomgyu’s car early one Saturday morning, the air filled with excitement as you drive toward the coast. The weather is perfect, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and the anticipation of a carefree weekend ahead makes everything feel lighter.

When you arrive, the small beach town is bustling with tourists, the streets lined with colorful shops and restaurants. You check into a charming seaside inn, your room offering a stunning view of the ocean. The salty breeze and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore immediately put you at ease.

For the first day, you decide to hit the beach. You slip into a light, flowing sundress with thin straps that tie at your shoulders, the fabric swaying gently in the breeze. It’s a pale yellow, the color brightening your complexion.

The four of you spend the day lounging on the sand, swimming in the crystal-clear water, and playing beach volleyball. Beomgyu and Soobin are a hilarious team, their competitive streaks coming out in full force, while you and Ryujin try to keep up, laughing so hard you can barely hit the ball back.

As the sun begins to set, you take a walk along the shoreline with Soobin. The air is cooler now, and you’ve changed into a pair of denim shorts and a loose, sleeveless top that flutters in the breeze. Soobin, in his usual casual style, wears a plain white T-shirt and board shorts. The two of you walk in comfortable silence for a while, the waves gently lapping at your feet.

“I’m glad you came,” Soobin says quietly, breaking the silence. He glances at you, his expression soft in the fading light. “I’ve missed this… missed us hanging out like this.”

“Me too,” you reply, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s nice to just… be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

There’s a pause, and then you both stop walking, turning to face each other. The tension between you has been growing stronger with each passing day, and it’s undeniable now. You notice the way his eyes linger on you, how his hand brushes against yours as you stand there, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

“Soobin…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. You’re not sure what you want to say—what you need to say.

He looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your heart racing in your chest.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice steady and sure. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

The moment is so charged, so full of potential, that it feels like time has stopped. You find yourself leaning into him, drawn to the comfort and warmth he offers, but before anything more can happen, Ryujin’s voice calls out from the distance, breaking the spell.

You both step back, the tension between you still thick in the air, but the moment has passed. You force a smile, trying to shake off the nerves that are buzzing under your skin.

“We should head back,” you say, your voice a little too bright. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Soobin nods, and without another word, the two of you start walking back toward the inn. But even as you rejoin Ryujin and Beomgyu, the electricity between you and Soobin doesn’t fade. Instead, it lingers, a constant undercurrent that makes your heart beat just a little faster every time your eyes meet, every time your hands brush against each other.

That night, after a dinner filled with laughter and more teasing from Beomgyu and Ryujin, you find yourself sitting on the inn’s balcony with Soobin. The others have already gone to bed, exhausted from the day’s activities, but neither of you seems ready to end the night.

The stars are bright in the clear sky, and the sound of the waves is soothing as you sit together, wrapped in a shared blanket to ward off the evening chill. You’re wearing a soft, oversized sweater, and Soobin has a hoodie on, the two of you huddled close for warmth.

For a while, you talk about everything and nothing— jobs, childhood memories, the places they’d like to visit one day. But eventually, the conversation drifts to more personal matters.

“So… what’s next for you?” Soobin asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Now that you’re settling in, do you have any plans?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t know the answer, but because you’re afraid to voice it. “I’m not sure,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking about staying in Gwangcheon for a while, maybe longer than I originally planned. It’s… it’s starting to feel like home again.”

Soobin smiles at that, a warmth spreading through you at the sight. “I’m glad,” he says. “It’s good to have you back, Y/N. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you reply softly, your heart swelling with emotion. There’s so much more you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath under your cheek.

Soobin’s hand finds yours under the blanket, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. The touch is comforting, grounding you in the moment. You sit like that for a long time, neither of you saying anything, just content to be close.

But as the night wears on, the tension between you becomes harder to ignore. Every time you shift slightly, your legs brushing against his, it feels like a spark of electricity zips through you. The quiet, intimate atmosphere only amplifies the connection that’s been building for weeks, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too.

Finally, you turn your head to look up at him, finding him already gazing down at you. The intensity in his eyes takes your breath away, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach as you tilt your face up, waiting…

But just when it feels like something monumental is about to happen, Soobin pulls back slightly, his expression conflicted. He lets out a slow breath, breaking the moment. “We should get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

You’re disappointed, but also relieved. You may have felt something for Soobin during your youth, but you had not expected any sort of remaining spark between the two of you upon moving back. It’s a mixture of conflicting feelings: comfort, fear, desire, and enough more to dizzy you.

But even as you part for the night, there’s an unspoken understanding between you— that this moment isn’t an ending but rather just a momentary pause.

The next morning, the four of you wake early to catch the sunrise on the beach. The air is crisp and cool, the sky painted in hues of pink and gold as the sun peeks over the horizon. You feel a sense of peace, standing there with your closest friends, the tension from the night before easing into something more hopeful.

As you pack up and head home later that day, you can’t help but feel like this trip was a turning point. For the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to the future. And though you don’t know exactly where things with Soobin will go, you feel both compelled and terrified to find out. 

The weeks after your beach getaway with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu pass in a blur of cozy evenings and lingering touches. The tension between you and Soobin has become almost palpable, an undercurrent that hums beneath every interaction. You find yourself gravitating toward him, seeking out his presence in ways that feel both natural and inevitable.

It starts with late-night talks, the two of you sitting on the porch of your house or his, wrapped in blankets as the night air grows cooler. The conversations are deep, touching on everything from your childhood dreams to the fears that keep you up at night. Soobin listens with a quiet intensity that makes you feel heard in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Sometimes, when the conversation drifts to a comfortable lull, his hand will find yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, and the simple touch sends shivers down your spine.

As fall begins to creep in, the annual town festival is the talk of Gwangcheon. It’s a tradition that dates back decades, a celebration of the harvest season with food stalls, games, and music that bring the whole town together. Despite Soobin’s protests about it being the “same old thing every year,” you manage to drag him along with you, promising that it will be fun.

“You say that every year,” Soobin grumbles as you walk through the festival grounds, his hand intertwined with yours. The evening air is crisp, carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider. “But it’s just a bunch of food stalls and cheesy games.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “You’re such a grouch. Admit it, you secretly love this stuff.”

He huffs, but you catch the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Maybe I just like watching you get excited about it.”

You smile, your heart warming at the admission. The truth is, you do love the festival, not just for the nostalgia it brings but because it feels like a part of your roots—a reminder of the simpler times before everything got so complicated.

The festival is in full swing by the time you arrive. Strings of warm, twinkling lights hang overhead, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air. You and Soobin wander through the crowded streets, stopping at various stalls to sample local treats and play a few games. You end up with a small plush bear from a ring toss game, a prize that Soobin wins for you after several failed attempts.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” you say, beaming as you hug the bear to your chest.

Soobin just shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no bite in his words.

As the night goes on, you run into Beomgyu and Ryujin near the center of the festival grounds, where a makeshift dance floor has been set up. The four of you spend some time chatting and catching up, reminiscing about past festivals and sharing updates on each other’s lives. The atmosphere is light and joyful, a perfect escape from the weight of everything else.

At one point, Ryujin drags you into a dance, the two of you twirling and laughing while Soobin and Beomgyu look on in amusement. It feels good to let go, to simply enjoy the moment without any worries.

Eventually, you and Soobin find yourselves walking hand in hand again, wandering away from the crowd to a quieter part of the festival. The lights are dimmer here, the sounds of the festivities fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand in yours, the closeness between you more pronounced than ever.

“So… what’s the verdict?” you ask, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Still think the festival’s boring?”

He looks down at you, his gaze softening. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” he concedes, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand. “But only because you’re here.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the tension between you thickening as you come to a stop. The moment feels charged, like something is about to happen, and you find yourself leaning in closer, your breath hitching as his eyes flicker to your lips.

But before either of you can move, a voice interrupts the moment, shattering the intimacy between you.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name, spoken in that familiar, deep voice, makes you freeze. You turn slowly, your heart dropping into your stomach as you see him—your ex-boyfriend, standing just a few feet away.

He looks almost the same as he did the last time you saw him, tall and handsome with that same confident aura that used to draw you in. But now, all you feel is a cold dread pooling in your chest.

“Daehyun…” you breathe, barely able to get the word out.

His eyes flick from you to Soobin, who is still holding your hand, his expression hardening as he takes in the sight. There’s a tense silence, the air between the three of you crackling with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

“So, this is why you left Seoul?” Daehyun’s voice is sharp, accusatory, as he steps closer. “To play house in some small town with your high school friend?”

Soobin stiffens beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Watch it,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous.

But Daehyun ignores him, his gaze fixed on you. “I thought we were going to work things out, Y/N. But instead, you just… ran away?”

You feel a pang of guilt, the old wounds reopening at his words. But then you remember why you left in the first place—the lies, the betrayal, the hurt he caused you. The memories flood back, and with them, a surge of anger and resolve.

“I didn’t run away, Daehyun,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I left because you fucking cheated on me! Last time I checked, you didn’t want me anyway. Why are you even here?”

Daehyun’s expression falters, the confidence slipping for a moment. But then he scoffs, shaking his head and entirely avoiding your question. “You’re really going to throw away everything we had for… this?”

Before you can respond, Soobin steps in front of you, blocking Daehyun’s view. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation,” he says, his tone firm. “So why don’t you leave her alone?”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu and Ryujin arrive, their expressions shifting from carefree to protective in an instant as they assess the situation.

“Is there a problem here?” Beomgyu’s tone is light but laced with an underlying threat as he steps up beside Soobin, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryujin moves to your other side, her presence a comforting shield as she glares at Daehyun.

Daehyun scoffs, turning his attention back to you. “You’re really going to let them speak for you now? Is this what you’ve become?”

“Leave her alone, Daehyun,” Ryujin snaps, her eyes blazing with anger. “You’re not welcome here.”

For a moment, Daehyun looks like he might argue, but the combined glares of Soobin, Beomgyu, and Ryujin seem to weigh on him. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and reluctantly takes a step back. “This isn’t worth it,” he mumbles, his gaze flickering to Soobin. “Have fun Y/N.”

With that, he finally turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving a suffocating tension in his wake. 

As soon as Daehyun is out of sight, the energy shifts. The air feels heavy, charged with everything left unsaid between you and Soobin. He stands there, his hand still resting on your shoulder, but the warmth that once comforted you now feels like a burning reminder of the distance that’s crept between you in just a few short moments.

You search his face for some kind of reassurance, something to tell you that everything is okay between you. But all you find is a flicker of something—regret, maybe?—in his eyes before he steps back, dropping his hand to his side.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice barely audible above the festival noise. He’s looking anywhere but at you, his usual confidence and ease replaced by a discomfort that twists painfully in your chest.

“Wait, Soobin, you don’t have to—” you start, reaching out to stop him, but he’s already shaking his head, taking another step back.

“I need to go,” he mutters, the words clipped and hurried. “I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your hand half-raised, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You watch his retreating figure, your heart pounding in your ears as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

When he disappears from sight, the weight of it all crashes down on you. Your knees feel weak, and you stumble to the nearest bench, dropping onto it as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You bury your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body as the emotions you’ve been trying so hard to keep in check burst free.

You’re so caught up in your grief that you don’t notice Ryujin and Beomgyu returning until Ryujin’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Ryujin’s voice is laced with concern as she kneels beside you, her hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

Beomgyu stands awkwardly to the side, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a worried frown. “Y/N, you don’t have to cry over him,” he says, trying to sound comforting. “Daehyun’s not worth it.”

You shake your head, unable to find the words to correct them. They think you’re crying because of Daehyun, that seeing him brought all the pain of your breakup to the surface. But it’s not Daehyun you’re crying over—it’s Soobin. It’s the way he looked at you like he couldn’t bear to be near you, like something had shifted irreparably between you, and the way he just left without a second glance, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

But how can you explain that to them when you’re just now understanding it yourself? 

The realization hits you like a truck and you suddenly jump up, slightly unsteadily on your feet. But it’s not really a realization after all. It’s something you’ve known deep down for a while. Forever, it feels like.

The world feels like it’s spinning, your thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of panic and desperation. You can barely hear Ryujin and Beomgyu’s voices through the haze of your own mind, their concerned words just background noise to the single, overwhelming thought that suddenly consumes you.

You need to find Soobin.

The tears are still streaming down your face, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters right now is reaching him, before this suffocating tension between you turns into an unbearable distance.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Ryujin calls after you, but you’re already running, your heart pounding in time with your frantic footsteps. 

You don’t answer her, your feet moving faster than your thoughts. You’re driven by pure instinct, by the gnawing need to fix this before it’s too late. Before you lose him.

His house isn’t far—it never has been—and it’s that familiarity that drives you faster. The image of his retreating back is burned into your mind, propelling you forward through the dimly lit streets of the neighborhood. The sound of your breath is loud in your ears, mingling with the rapid beat of your heart as you round the final corner and see his house come into view.

His house is dark except for the porch light, and a flicker of doubt crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he won’t even open the door? But you can’t stop now, not when you’re so close. You run up to the door, and without hesitation, you start banging on it with all your strength.

“Soobin!” Your voice cracks as you call out his name, your fists pounding against the wood, the desperation in your voice echoing through the quiet night. “Soobin, please, open the door!”

For a moment, nothing happens, and your heart sinks with each second that passes. But then, you hear the sound of footsteps inside, followed by the slow creak of the door opening.

When Soobin’s face comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. He looks surprised, his hair slightly disheveled, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. His gaze immediately locks onto your tear-streaked face, and the shock deepens.

“Y/N?” He frowns, his eyes flicking over your smudged makeup and tear-stained cheeks. “What are you—are you okay? Did… did he do something else? I thought he left.”

His voice is soft, laced with worry, and the way he’s looking at you—like you’re fragile, like you might break at any moment—only makes the tears well up in your eyes again. But it’s not because of Daehyun. It’s because of him.

You shake your head, trying to find the words, but they all come out in a frantic rush, jumbled together with your raw emotions. “No, it’s not—it’s not Daehyun, Soobin. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your words, but you don’t give him a chance to respond. The words pour out of you, all the things you’ve been holding back for so long, spilling over in your desperation to make him understand.

“I don’t care about Daehyun,” you continue, your voice trembling with the force of your feelings. “I never did, not the way I care about you. I dated him because I was trying to get away from these feelings, because I was scared of how much I liked you, because I thought… I thought maybe if I was with someone else, it would go away. But it didn’t. I just made everything worse.”

Soobin’s expression shifts from confusion to something softer, something that almost breaks your heart all over again. He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re not done yet.

“I thought I could just… run away from it, from you, by moving to Seoul, by throwing myself into a relationship that I didn’t even really want, but it was all a lie. Everything with Daehyun was just a distraction, a way to pretend like I didn’t want to be with you. But I did. I do.” You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words that have been eating away at you for so long. “Soobin, I like you. I like you so much it hurts, and I’ve been pretending that I don’t for so long that I almost convinced myself it was true.”

There’s a silence that follows your confession, the kind that feels like it stretches on for an eternity. You can’t bear to look at him, to see the rejection you’re sure is coming, but you can’t look away either. 

Soobin doesn’t speak right away, his eyes searching your face, and you wonder if you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. The silence between you is thick with tension, every second that passes weighing heavily on your chest.

Finally, he reaches out, his hand hesitating just inches from your cheek. When he finally cups your face, his touch is so gentle that it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes away a stray tear, and when he speaks, his voice is soft, almost disbelieving. “You… like me?”

You nod, unable to find your voice, your heart beating so loudly that you’re sure he can hear it.

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and you brace yourself for the worst. But then, slowly, a small, almost tentative smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“You idiot,” he murmurs, his tone affectionate, even as his words make your breath hitch. “You really thought I wouldn’t feel the same?”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, he’s pulling you inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet click. The next thing you know, his hands are framing your face, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter.

Then, without another word, he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. The kiss is desperate, hungry, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have. His lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t get enough.

You respond with equal intensity, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, every lingering touch that you’ve shared over the years is poured into this kiss, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepens the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a desperation that mirrors your own. It’s like everything else fades away—Daehyun, the fight with your mom, all the pain and confusion you’ve been carrying with you. All that matters is Soobin, his touch, his warmth, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

Soobin doesn't waste any time. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together as he pulls you deeper into the house, the intensity between you building with every step. His other hand never leaves your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he leads you through the familiar hallway, your breaths coming faster with each second. The anticipation crackles between you, a living thing that makes your skin tingle and your pulse race. His grip on your hand tightens when you reach his room, and without breaking the kiss, he pushes the door open, guiding you inside.

The moment the door shuts behind you, his lips are on yours again, more desperate this time, as if he can't bear to be apart from you for even a second. He walks you backward toward the bed, his hands sliding from your waist up to your shoulders, then back down to your hips, pulling you closer until you're pressed against him.

Your back hits the edge of the bed, and he nudges you down onto it, his hands cupping your face as he hovers over you. His kiss is relentless, stealing your breath away as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours with just enough weight to make you feel grounded in this moment.

You respond eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you arch up into him. Every touch, every kiss, is like a spark of electricity, igniting something deep within you. His lips trail down to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he presses soft, lingering kisses there. Each touch makes you melt further into the bed, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingertips.

Soobin's breath hitches as you slide your hands up under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned body. He pulls back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before his lips find yours again, his kiss more heated, more urgent than before. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your toes curl, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he's been waiting for this moment forever.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name against your lips like a prayer. The world outside his room fades away until it's just the two of you, tangled together in a mess of sheets and emotions. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a confession, an unspoken promise that this is just the beginning of something more.

“No more running,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, breathing in your scent he only could dream of being able to fully take in.

A smile curves its way onto your lips and you smile against his gentle touch, nodding as though there was not a single better thing he could suggest. Because there is nothing you would rather do than stay right here, the very place where a piece of you has always been and where you’ve always belonged.

thank you for reading! <3

So cute! I loved reading this, the pacing was really nice not too long or too short. The slang was also very interesting to read, definitely something you would hear nowadays :)

ඞ JOIN GAME?

not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.

PAIRING. streamer!anton + fem!reader

GENRES + WARNINGS. non-idol au, streamer!anton au, crack, strangers to friends to lovers, rivals to lovers(?) | profanity, violent jokes, sexual jokes, y/n is horribly bad at games so that deserves a warning of its own, mentions of GOJO 🤢

STATUS. completed

PLAYLIST. electronic lover by breathe electric; there is a light that never goes out by the smiths; she won't go away by faye webster; she's got you high by mumm-ra; accidentally in love by counting crows; 青のすみか by tatsuya kitani

CHARACTER PROFILES

the better dsmp

robloxians

CHAPTERS

one. coolprettycutegirl

two. 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥.

three. no lube, no protection

four. ganyu says…

five. facebook stalker

six. 𝕝𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕦𝕡 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕖𝕥 🔥𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂🔥 ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓰𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓫𝓫𝔂😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

seven. HATE the player not the game

eight. gobble gobble 💔

nine. LALALA

ten. 50k words slow burn streamer x weaboo romance slight angst happy ending

eleven. y/ntonchansoul server

twelve. 3 dollars and a crunchyroll subscription

thirteen. kaomojinese

fourteen. modern day michelangelo

fifteen. who else feel Baka rn 😭

sixteen. pixelated haiku

seventeen. my little skibidi toilet

eighteen. organ failure 💔

nineteen. satosugu but straight

twenty. #STONERLAND_SUCKS

twenty-one. elon musk plz ban anton’s mortal enemy

twenty-two. galvanized steel and eco-friendly wood veneers

twenty-three. sungchan boy kisser confirmed

twenty-four. choose ur poison (simp edition)

twenty-five. user gojoxdino’s last straw

twenty-six. there is no “we” in y/nton

twenty-seven. u can’t just say perchance

twenty-eight. a friendly date for friends!!!

twenty-nine. oikawa drip at the function

thirty. awesome-sauce

thirty-one. soul literate era

thirty-two. #JUSTICE_FOR_YNTON

EXTRAS

EXTRA 31.5. seunghan’s 0 kills

EXTRA 1. #FlyHighYN 🕊️

EXTRA 2. sungtaro vs y/nton

EXTRA 3. behind user gojoxdino…

EXTRA 4. another minecraft server!?!?!?

story by hangup119. do not steal.

---

Bookmarking for later! I love finding rec. lists so I could just go down the line. And since I’ve been in a sorta seokjin mood (after watching the RunJin’s) lately this is perfect!

Seokjin fic recs 2023

In honor of Seokjin’s birthday, I want to share my favorite fanfictions that I’ve read this year. Although I did not read as many as I wanted to, the list will be short. But! I’ve leave my ‘to read’ list at the bottom to make up for it 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (💜)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻. 

⭐Knocked by @sailoryooons [10.6K] // ksj x f.reader // roommates to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

🗨️ This was so hilarious, and the build up and pay-off was really good 👏

⭐Sleepover by @peachypinkygloss [7.3K] // ksj x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

🗨️ Omg this was so good, the smut 😘🥵

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜 

I’m really sad that I didn’t get to read more Seokjin fics 😭 I have a lot on my ‘to read’ list, so I’ll share some that I’m really excited to read when i have more time (and I know they’ll be great because they are written by amazing people!) ✨

‘To read’ list ⬇️

Fast Lane by @yminie [20.6K]

Cherry Topper by @kth1 [17.6K]

Final Sleigh by @floralseokjin [23.3K]

Stuck with you by @taleasnewastime [29.6K]

Small Tuna Fish by @floralseokjin [17.1K]

Off Limits by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Raspberry truffles by @gukyi [5K]

Christmas Warfare by @gimmethatagustd [14.5K]

9 Months to Fall in Love by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Redamancy by @jeonggukingdom [7.1K]

Sunday by @here2bbtstrash [5K]

Serve Me by @chateautae [16K]

Meet Me at the Bar by @eoieopda [7.5K]

Internal Conflicts by @yoongiofmine [series; completed]

Forever by @oddinary4bts [25.2K]

Thank you, Daddy by @ktheist [19K]

The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Glazed & Dazed by @floralseokjin [30.3K]

Wet & Wild by @jamaisjoons [10K]

Warm this Winter by @jamaisjoons [51.6K]

Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons [series; completed]

Borderlines by @jamaisjoons [series; ongoing]

All I Don’t Want for Christmas is You! by @minisugakoobies [23.7K]

Cupid’s on Holiday by @persphonesorchid [17K]

Don’t Go Baking my Heart by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids [14.7K]

Platonic by @joheunsaram [series; completed??]

Last November by @kithtaehyung [24.7K]

Sit. Stay. by @daechwitatamic [14K]

Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon [13.3K]

Made-up Love Song by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Lost and Found by @taleasnewastime [21.2K]

I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEOKJIN!!! 💜 🥳 🎂

---

THE STARS ARE ALL ASLEEP | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: idol! han taesan x non!idol! fem! reader

SUMMARY: The loss and regret Taesan feels, trying to hold on to the memories of Y/n despite the pain

GENRE: angst, breakup, taesan is kinda an ass, imagine, short story

WORDCOUNT: 5.9k

A/N: ngl, did i procrastinate during my lecture to write this? yes . . . i wrote this after listening to 星星都睡了 by PPlin x Zhen Li -- I'm basically giving you guys song reccs to listen to -- the song is really good!... enjoy the story!

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

I can take care of myself, you don’t need to keep worrying about me.

I don’t smile anymore.

The clock on the wall ticked away the late hours of the evening as Y/n sat curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, staring blankly at the TV. She wasn’t really watching, her mind too preoccupied with the events of the day. Work had been a disaster. Her boss had been harsher than usual, throwing out unreasonable demands and critiques that left her feeling drained and upset.

She sighed, glancing at her phone. No messages from Taesan. It wasn’t unusual—he was busy, always on the go with rehearsals, interviews, and performances. Being a famous idol meant long hours and even longer nights. Still, they shared this apartment, and she always tried to stay awake to talk to him when he came home.

Her heart lifted slightly when she heard the soft jingle of keys at the door. The lock clicked, and Taesan stepped inside, his hood pulled low over his face, slumping with exhaustion as he kicked off his shoes. He barely glanced in her direction as he made his way into the living room.

She straightened up on the couch, hoping for just a moment of his attention. “Hey, you’re home,” she greeted softly, forcing a small smile. “How was your day?”

“Long,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes as he walked past, heading straight for the kitchen to grab a drink. His tone was flat, his movements sluggish.

Y/n watched him, her heart sinking. “I had the worst day today,” she said, trying again to start a conversation. “My boss was being such a—”

“Not now,” he interrupted, his voice edged with weariness as he leaned against the counter, rubbing his temples. “I’m tired. I don’t want to talk.”

She froze, the words hanging in the air between them, heavier than she expected. She had been waiting all day to tell him about what happened, hoping he would listen, hoping she could find some comfort in his presence. But his dismissal felt like a slap to the face.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed her emotions. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Okay.”

The silence stretched out uncomfortably as Taesan took a sip of his drink, still not looking at her. She tried to keep her disappointment from showing, but it was too late. The lump in her throat made it hard to speak, and the weight of the day, combined with his coldness, felt suffocating.

She stood up quietly, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield against the sudden chill between them. “I’ll... leave you alone, then,” she murmured, backing away toward the bedroom. She didn’t wait for his response. He didn’t offer one.

As she turned, her steps slow and deliberate, her heart ached. This wasn’t how she imagined the night going. She had wanted to vent, to share her frustrations with the one person who mattered most to her. But now, she felt more alone than she had all day.

When she closed the bedroom door behind her, the click sounded louder than usual in the quiet apartment. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands, wondering if he even noticed how much she needed him right now.

Back in the living room, Taesan let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as the weight of the day pressed down on him. He hadn’t meant to be so cold, but he was just too tired. Too tired to think, to listen, to be anything but worn out.

But in the silence that followed, something gnawed at him—a faint sense of guilt that he couldn’t quite shake, knowing she had wanted to talk, knowing she had needed him.

And he hadn’t been there.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I don’t want to think about you all the time.

We tried our hardest to hurt everything between us, and now it’s impossible to repair.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow over the city streets. Y/n sat on the bench at the bus stop, nervously checking her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Her heart was filled with a mixture of excitement and impatience—today was supposed to be special. Their anniversary.

Taesan had promised to take her on a date after his interview, a rare moment in their hectic lives where they could celebrate together. She’d dressed up, her heart racing with anticipation, hoping for some time alone with him. But now, as the minutes dragged on, she couldn’t help but feel the growing sense of unease.

She scrolled through her phone again, the unanswered messages staring back at her: "Hey, interview over yet?" "Are you still coming?" "Let me know if you're running late."

No response. No calls. Nothing.

She sighed, biting her lip and glancing down the empty street. The buses came and went, passengers getting on and off, but there was still no sign of him. Her excitement slowly deflated into something more like dread.

A cold breeze picked up, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being stood up, but that couldn’t be true, right? He wouldn’t just forget their anniversary. He wouldn’t break his promise to her.

In an attempt to distract herself, she opened her social media, scrolling absentmindedly through the feed. That’s when she saw it—a post from a fan page featuring Taesan and his group at some event. There he was, smiling and laughing with his bandmates, dressed in an outfit far too formal for just an interview.

Her heart sank. The caption beneath the photo read, "Surprise appearance at the event! BOYNEXTDOOR looking dashing as always."

She stared at the screen, the image of him so happy, so carefree. She felt a knot twist in her chest, anger and sadness mixing together. He wasn’t just late—he had gone somewhere else entirely, without even telling her. He had time for an event but not for their anniversary.

Her fingers hovered over the phone, wanting to call him again, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. He wasn’t coming.

With a heavy sigh, she stood up, her heart feeling heavier than her feet as she trudged back toward their apartment. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it, knowing it wasn’t from him.

The walk back felt longer than usual, her mind replaying the excitement she’d felt that morning—how she’d looked forward to tonight, how she’d thought this anniversary would be a rare moment where they could be like any other couple. But instead, she was left alone, walking home in the dim light, her hands stuffed in her pockets to keep warm.

Finally, she reached the front door of their apartment building. Pausing for a moment, she glanced back at the empty street, a small part of her still hoping to see him running toward her, apologizing for being late. But the street remained empty, quiet, just like the unanswered messages on her phone.

With a deep breath, she entered the building and climbed the stairs to their apartment. As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the stillness of the apartment felt colder than the air outside. No flowers, no candles, no sign that today was any different from any other day.

She sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall, the weight of disappointment settling in her chest like a stone. All she wanted was to be with him, to feel like she mattered, like they mattered. But tonight, she felt more alone than ever.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You never cared about trying to get my forgiveness.

Don’t let us be covered in scars.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside. Y/n sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, hugging a small black cat stuffed animal that Taesan had won for her on one of their early dates. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears brimming but not falling. She stared blankly at her phone, an article open on the screen, the words blurring in front of her.

The jingle of keys at the door signaled his arrival. The door creaked open, and Taesan stepped in, exhaustion heavy in his posture. He looked worn from the day, his hair disheveled, still in his stage clothes. He let out a deep sigh as he kicked off his shoes, glancing toward her, not immediately noticing the tension in the air.

"Hey," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I'm home."

Y/n didn’t respond, her gaze locked on him, her lips pressed into a thin line as she clutched the stuffed animal tighter. Her chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid.

He finally noticed her silence, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice more annoyed than gentle. He was too tired for this—whatever this was.

She didn’t speak at first, just held out her phone toward him, the screen illuminating her tear-filled eyes. He frowned, walking over to take it from her hand. When he looked at the screen, his expression immediately shifted.

It was a news article—another baseless rumor. His name splashed across the headline alongside another female idol, the two of them speculated to be in a relationship. There were photos from a backstage event, carefully cropped and captioned to imply intimacy where none existed.

He groaned, already dreading the conversation. "You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

"Is this why you’re never around anymore?" Y/n finally spoke, her voice small but laced with hurt. Her eyes, shining with unshed tears, held a mixture of frustration, sadness, and fear. "Because of her?"

His jaw clenched, frustration quickly overtaking his fatigue. "What? No. It’s just a rumor," he snapped, throwing his hands up. "You really believe that crap? I told you not to pay attention to those things."

"But you’re never here anymore!" Her voice cracked as she stood up, still hugging the stuffed cat to her chest. "You’re always too busy, too tired, or too... distant. And then I see this and—" She broke off, shaking her head, tears spilling over now. "How am I supposed to feel? Am I supposed to just ignore it when you’re gone all the time?"

"I’m working!" he fired back, the anger rising in his chest. "I’m busting my ass for this career, for us—but you’re here, worried about some stupid tabloid story? Where’s the trust?"

"Trust?" she repeated, incredulous. "How can I trust you when you don’t even talk to me anymore? When you don’t make time for me at all? Do you even care about this relationship?"

Her words cut deep, but his frustration was too overwhelming to process the hurt beneath them. "Of course I care! But you’re suffocating me with all these doubts. Every time I come home, it’s something like this. You worry too much."

"I worry because I care!" Her voice broke, raw with emotion. "Because I love you, and I feel like I’m losing you—like you’re slipping away and I can’t do anything about it."

The silence that followed was deafening. They stood there, staring at each other, both breathing heavily from the intensity of the argument.

Taesan rubbed his temples, his voice lowering but still tense. "This is ridiculous. It’s just a rumor. I’m tired, and I don’t want to do this right now."

"You never want to do this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her chest heaving as she tried to control the sobs threatening to spill over. "Fine."

With a quiet, bitter laugh, she turned and walked toward their bedroom. "I’m done with this conversation. Go sleep at your dorm or wherever it is you’d rather be."

His eyes followed her as she disappeared down the hallway, her door closing softly behind her, though the emotional slam still reverberated through him.

He stood there for a long moment, his anger simmering down into guilt, exhaustion pulling at him from all sides. He didn’t want to fight, but it always seemed to end up this way. They always ended up like this—torn apart by his career, by misunderstandings, by everything he didn’t have time to fix.

With a heavy sigh, Taesan grabbed his jacket and keys, heading back toward the door. The silence of the apartment felt unbearable now.

As he stepped out into the cold night air, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward his group’s dorm, his mind filled with everything left unsaid, wondering how they had come to this.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

When the stars in the sky all sleep, I feel so dark, my body feels inexplicably cold

The night air was heavy, thick with a silence that seemed to press down on everything. The small park near their apartment was a place once filled with memories—their late-night walks, quiet conversations, stolen moments—but now it felt distant, like something from another lifetime.

Taesan stood at the edge of the path, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his breath visible in the cool air. He hadn’t been back here in weeks, not since he’d started staying at his group’s dorm. It felt strange now, almost foreign.

His eyes shifted as he saw Y/n approaching slowly from the other side of the park. His heart clenched at the sight of her, though he couldn’t quite place why. She looked…different. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow, the dark bags beneath them evident even in the dim light. The spark, the warmth he always loved in her eyes, was gone. She looked like someone who had been carrying the weight of the world for too long.

She stopped a few steps away from him, the space between them feeling like a chasm.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, his voice quiet but carrying an edge of tension. He already had a sinking feeling in his chest, but he wasn’t ready to confront it.

Y/n looked at him for a long moment, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out at first. She shifted her weight, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

"I’m tired," she finally said, her voice flat, void of emotion. "I’m tired of waiting for you. Of waiting for us to feel like it used to." Her eyes met his, and the emptiness in them hit him like a punch to the gut. "I can’t keep doing this."

His heart stuttered in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, trying to process her words, hoping this wasn’t what he thought it was.

“I’m done,” she continued, her voice firmer this time, as if she had rehearsed these words over and over in her head before finally saying them. “I don’t want to have to keep waiting on you, waiting for something to change. I feel like I’m always waiting.”

The silence between them was unbearable now, but he couldn’t find the right words to say. His throat felt tight, like any response he tried to form would only come out broken.

She wasn’t crying—there were no tears. She wasn’t angry. Just…done. It made it worse somehow. He would’ve preferred her to scream at him, to be angry, to throw something, but this quiet resignation was shattering him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“You’re not the same,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but sharp enough to cut through the air between them. "I don’t recognize you anymore. And I know you’re tired too. Tired of me, of this... You don’t need to say it. I can see it every time you walk out the door and don’t come back until late or not at all."

He wanted to protest, to tell her she was wrong, that things could be different, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because a part of him knew she was right. He hadn’t been present—not really. His career had consumed him, and in the process, he had let her slip away. He let them slip away.

She let out a shaky breath, her eyes momentarily glancing down at the ground before meeting his gaze again. "I loved you," she said softly. "I still do, but I can’t keep holding onto something that’s already gone."

His chest tightened painfully, and he took a small step forward, as if to reach for her, but stopped himself. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t even know if he could.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though it was unclear if she was apologizing to him or to herself.

And then, she turned around, her figure illuminated only by the faint glow of the park’s streetlights. She didn’t run. She didn’t storm off. She just walked away, her back to him, her shoulders slightly hunched as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

He stood there, frozen in place, his heart breaking with every step she took. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He could only watch as she walked further and further away, her silhouette fading into the distance until she was nothing more than a distant memory in the night.

The cold settled into his bones, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt numb, like everything inside him had shattered and there was nothing left but the aching emptiness where she used to be. The night stretched on, and the only sound that filled the silence was the faint rustling of leaves in the wind, as the world around him continued on, unaware that his had just fallen apart.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I don’t need the hottest and best car.

I don’t need to be the best pop star.

I want to express myself, but I messed up.

What’s there to lose! My heart’s already half empty.

The studio’s lights were harsh, reflecting off the mirrors that lined the walls. The steady beat of the music thumped through the room, filling the space with energy, but Taesan’s movements felt sluggish, disconnected from the rhythm. He was usually so precise, so in sync with the choreography, but today he couldn’t seem to get it right.

"Again," the instructor called out, clapping their hands sharply, frustration seeping into their voice. "You’re off, Taesan. Focus."

He nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow, though it felt like the sweat wasn’t the problem—it was the weight pressing on his chest. They started the routine again, but halfway through, his steps faltered. His foot missed the mark, his body off-beat. He felt his group members glance at him in concern, but he kept his head down, trying to push through.

"Stop!" the instructor barked, cutting the music abruptly. "Take five. Taesan, get it together."

He didn’t respond, just stood there, panting, his hands on his knees. The others slowly moved to the sides of the room to grab water or stretch. Taesan didn’t move. His mind was spinning, but not about the dance. His thoughts kept drifting to her—Y/n. The look on her face when she walked away, the sound of her voice when she said she was done, the quiet resignation in her eyes. It haunted him.

It was all he could think about.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it was no use. The more he tried to shake it off, the more the memories flooded back. The last argument, the tension that had been building for months, how he had shrugged her off when she needed him most.

“Hey, man. You good?” Jaehyun asked, cautiously approaching him with a bottle of water in hand.

Taesan shook his head slightly, forcing a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the tightness in his voice said otherwise.

“You’re not,” Leehan said bluntly, walking over with the rest of the group. "You’ve been off all day. What’s going on?"

He opened his mouth to respond with something dismissive, something to brush them off like he always did when things got too personal, but this time, he couldn’t. His chest ached too much. The guilt, the regret—it was all bubbling up inside him, and he couldn’t keep it down any longer.

“I—” His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away, swallowing hard. He hated this. Hated feeling this vulnerable, especially in front of them.

His group members exchanged glances, clearly worried.

“I miss her,” he finally whispered, barely audible.

“What?” Riwoo leaned in closer, frowning.

“I miss her,” he repeated, louder this time, though his voice wavered. “I miss Y/n… so much.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the usual energy drained as his words settled in.

“I screwed up,” he said, his hands trembling slightly as he raked them through his hair. “I didn’t realize what I had until she was gone. And now—” He paused, his throat tightening, the memories of their breakup flashing in his mind. “Now it’s too late. I hurt her, I wasn’t there when she needed me, and she left. I don’t blame her.”

His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. Not here. Not in front of them.

“I regret everything,” he admitted, his voice strained, raw. “Everything that led to us falling apart. I pushed her away, I was so wrapped up in my own life that I didn’t see how much I was losing her.” His hand clenched into a fist. "I thought I could balance everything, but… I couldn’t. I failed her.”

His group members stood in stunned silence. Taesan was always the one who kept things together, the one who didn’t let his emotions get the better of him. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so broken, was a shock.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I don’t think I can. She’s done with me, and I can’t blame her. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend… and a terrible person.”

Sungho stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he said bitterly, looking down at the floor. “I still love her. I never stopped. But she’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”

“You’re human, Taesan hyung,” Woonhak said, his tone gentle. “People make mistakes.”

“Not like this,” Taesan muttered, shaking his head. “She waited for me. She was patient, and I took her for granted. I should’ve been there for her.”

His group members shared worried glances, unsure of what to say. They had never seen him like this—so lost, so regretful.

“It’s not too late,” Jaehyun offered hesitantly. “You can still reach out to her, talk to her—”

“She’s done with me,” Taesan interrupted, his voice flat. “She said she’s tired of waiting, and I can’t blame her. I would’ve left me too.”

He slumped down onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall, his head in his hands. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning in the studio.

His group members sat down around him, unsure of how to help, but unwilling to leave him alone. They could see how much pain he was in, and it hurt to see their usually composed, confident friend in pieces like this.

“I’m sorry,” Taesan whispered again, more to himself than anyone else. "I’m so sorry, Y/n."

And for the first time in a long time, he let the tears fall.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Through the whole night, you’re no longer in my sight.

Maybe everyone feels the same, but time goes by too fast.

The air backstage was charged with excitement, a low hum of activity as the staff rushed around making final preparations. Taesan sat quietly in a corner, his hands resting on his lap, staring at the floor as the muffled cheers of the crowd reached his ears. The energy of the arena was palpable, but inside, he felt a familiar weight pressing down on his chest.

It had been a few months since the breakup. Since the day she’d said she was done. He hadn’t realized how hard it would hit him—how much he’d miss her. Even now, the thought of her still tugged at his heart, the hurt still raw even though time had passed.

"Taesan, you good?" Sungho asked, breaking through his thoughts as they finished a huddle nearby.

He glanced up, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I’m fine."

They’d asked him that a lot lately, and every time he said the same thing. He had to be fine. He had no other choice. Being an idol meant putting on a perfect face, no matter what was going on behind the scenes. It was all part of the job, and he owed it to his fans to give them everything he had. But the truth was, no matter how much time passed, she never really left his mind.

A staff member approached, headset in place, clipboard in hand. "Five minutes until showtime."

His group gave a collective nod, standing up to stretch and prepare. Taesan rose to his feet, brushing off his outfit, and took a deep breath. He could feel the adrenaline starting to build, the anticipation of the stage waiting for him. This was his world now—his stage, his music, his fans. He had to focus on that.

But as his mind drifted back to her—her smile, the sound of her laugh, the way she used to wait up for him—his chest tightened again. The ache that hadn’t fully healed throbbed beneath the surface, a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t let this affect him now. Not here. Not when the world was watching.

The fans were already screaming, chanting their names, and he knew the second he stepped onto that stage, he had to be the idol they all adored—the one who smiled for them, who gave them his all, no matter what was happening in his personal life.

A deep breath. He opened his eyes as the staff gave the signal.

“It’s time,” one of his group members said, nudging him gently. "Let’s go."

He nodded, shaking off the last traces of his wandering thoughts. Putting on his best smile—the smile that had charmed millions—he stepped in line with his group as they prepared to walk onto the stage.

The music swelled through the speakers, and the moment the curtains parted, a wave of sound crashed over them. The roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, the sea of fans waving lightsticks—it was everything he’d worked for, everything he loved.

He couldn’t let them down.

As they walked out, the fans’ cheers grew louder, the energy electric. He felt it surge through him, pushing the heaviness of his emotions to the back of his mind. The stage was where he belonged, and for now, that had to be enough.

But even as he smiled, danced, and sang, giving his all to the performance, a part of him still carried her with him—her memory, her absence. He knew he had to move on, but it wasn’t that simple. She had been a part of him for so long, and the love he had for her didn’t just disappear. He was still learning how to live with that ache.

As the music thumped in his ears and the fans sang along to every word, he forced himself to be present, to let the performance carry him. But every now and then, between the beats, he could feel her shadow lingering in the back of his mind.

And when the concert was over, and the adrenaline faded, he knew she’d be there waiting in the back of his mind—just as she always had been.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Finally, the wounds have scabbed over, but am I still thinking about it?

The room was dimly lit by the slivers of moonlight that slipped through the half-drawn blinds. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Taesan lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression. The shadows cast by the moonlight danced across the walls, but his focus remained on the blank expanse above him.

He was in his shared dorm room with Woonhak, who was already fast asleep, snoring softly. Taesan had been lying awake for hours, his mind racing through thoughts he couldn’t seem to quiet.

It had been five months since the breakup. He had made significant progress—he wasn’t as heartbroken as he once was, and his days were filled with the busyness of his idol life. But despite all that, thoughts of Y/n still occupied a corner of his mind.

He wondered about her often. What was she doing now? Was she happier without him? Was she moving on with her life, creating new memories, and finding joy in things that didn’t include him? The questions lingered, and even though he tried to push them away, they always seemed to return.

He remembered their last conversation, the look in her eyes when she had ended things. It wasn’t anger or resentment but a calm, resolute sadness. He had always wished he could go back and fix things, do better, be the person she deserved.

Turning his head slightly, he glanced over at the small bedside clock—it was well past midnight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shifted uncomfortably. The ache of missing her wasn’t as sharp as it once was, but it was still there, a gentle, persistent throb that reminded him of the love they had shared.

He recalled the little moments they had—walking in the park, sharing secrets, the way she used to laugh at his jokes, the sparkle in her eyes when she listened to his songs. Those memories were bittersweet now, tinged with the sadness of knowing that those times were in the past.

He wondered if she ever thought about him. Did she ever look back and remember the good times? Did she ever miss him, even just a little? The curiosity gnawed at him, but he didn’t have any answers. He had made the decision to give her space, to let her heal and move on, but it didn’t make the longing any easier.

He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like to see her again, to talk to her, to hear her voice. He hoped that wherever she was, she was happy. He hoped she had found the peace and joy that they both deserved.

As he lay there, the weight of his thoughts became a little heavier. He had learned to live with the separation, to accept it as part of his journey, but that didn’t mean it was easy. The nights like these were the hardest—when the world was quiet, and the only thing he had was the memory of what once was.

Eventually, he forced himself to turn away from the ceiling, pulling the covers closer as he tried to settle into a more comfortable position. It was a futile attempt to silence his racing mind, but he knew that some things would take time to fully resolve.

For now, he would focus on his work, on the present, and try to hold onto the hope that things would get better. And maybe, just maybe, someday he would get the closure he needed. Until then, he would carry on, living his life while cherishing the memories of what they once had.

He finally drifted off to sleep, the thoughts of her slowly fading into the background, though never completely out of reach.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I realize I can live without you, but I once decided to grow old with you.

How much loneliness and struggle remain pierced in my heart.

The crisp autumn air was cool against his skin as Taesan and his group members strolled down the street. Their faces were concealed behind masks and sunglasses, a necessary precaution to avoid being recognized. Despite their disguises, the atmosphere was relaxed, and they enjoyed the rare chance to go out incognito.

They chatted casually, their conversation punctuated by laughter as they approached a quaint café they had heard good things about. The cozy little place had a warm glow that contrasted with the chilly evening air.

As they reached the entrance, Taesan was the last to go inside. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, the door swung open and someone bumped into him.

Startled, he looked down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw who it was.

It was her. Y/n.

She looked different—brighter, happier. Her hair was shorter, framing her face in a way that seemed to enhance her natural beauty. And her eyes—those eyes that used to be so full of sadness—were now sparkling with a joy he hadn’t seen in a long time.

They locked eyes for a split second, and he felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite place—hope, regret, longing. He stood frozen, caught between the urge to speak and the overwhelming surge of emotions.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her voice warm and apologetic as she quickly stepped back. She didn’t seem to recognize him, her focus more on the minor collision than on the person she bumped into.

“No problem,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

She flashed him a quick, polite smile before turning and walking away, her figure gradually diminishing as she moved down the street.

Taesan stood there, watching her retreat, his heart pounding. The moment felt surreal—seeing her like this, so changed, so content. It was as if the universe had given him one more chance to make things right, and he wasn’t sure if he should let it slip away.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” Riwoo called out from inside the café. “Let’s go!”

Still reeling from the encounter, Taesan snapped back to reality. He turned towards the café, where his friends waited, but something inside him urged him to follow her—to find out if this new version of her was truly as happy as she seemed.

Without a word, he pulled his mask and glasses off and turned on his heel, rushing out of the café. His group members called after him, confusion evident in their voices, but he ignored them, his focus entirely on the woman who had just walked away.

He sprinted down the street, glancing around, his heart racing as he searched for any sign of her. The sight of her figure, walking away with a spring in her step, seemed to guide him forward, pushing him to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

Every step felt heavy with anticipation, each breath a mix of excitement and anxiety. He didn’t know what he’d say or what he hoped to find, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a chance he couldn’t let slip by.

Finally, he spotted her again, standing on the corner, waiting for a bus. With a deep breath, he approached, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Y/n!” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

She turned, a look of surprise crossing her face as she recognized the urgency in his voice. Her eyes widened as they met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Everything around them seemed to disappear and it was only them there. Y/n’s look of surprise turns into a smile, her sparkling eyes meeting him.

“Hi.”

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

PART TWO VER.1 -- VER.2 | MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

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.

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famous poker player ! jeonghan x famous poker player ! reader

— Synopsis: Jeonghan, the untouchable poker legend, meets his match in you, that spent years watching his every move, studying his poker game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, shattering his ego in and out of the bedroom. As you leave him wrecked and humiliated, he’s left questioning everything he thought he knew. The game’s no longer just about cards. — WC: 8.9k — WARNINGS: angst, smut, manipulation, gambling, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, ego destruction, heartbreak (reader uses jeonghan's past heartbreak as a manipulation to win), rough sex, dirty talk, dom!reader + sub!jeonghan (his first time being a sub), power play, chocking, hair pulling, gagging, humiliation, degradation, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m. receiving), body fluids (cum), cock riding, overstimulation, nipple play, jeonghan sucks your fingers and etc.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily curling around his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t help but scoff when the whispers about some new poker prodigy reached his ears. His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes rolling as he tipped the glass toward his mouth. 

Really? Better than him? That’s what they were saying?

 He glanced around his lavish apartment, the expensive art on the walls, the sleek black car parked downstairs, and the designer clothes hanging in his walk-in closet. Who the hell was this person, thinking they could come into his world and steal his crown?

He heard how you took the big names down one by one, storming through the tables like a tornado. Maybe they had a point. But better than him? He wasn’t convinced.

As he buttoned up his black shirt, leaving the top half undone, he thought about what they said. He liked his shirts that way, just enough to show off his chest, always a little provocative without trying too hard. The sunglasses perched on top of his head held back his long hair, and a Rolex gleamed on his wrist. He liked to dress like this—clean, sharp, unbothered.

The whiskey burned his lips as he sipped, plumping them slightly from the alcohol. His head tilted back, gaze narrowing at the ceiling before pushing out a breath. So, this sensation was gonna sit at his table tonight. Fine. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He set the glass down and made his way to the poker room.

The place smelled of money and desperation, just the way he liked it.

— // —

You knew the moment you stepped into the room, all eyes would be on you. It wasn’t the dress, although it clung to your figure in a way that left little to the imagination despite its attempt at being ‘discreet.’ It wasn’t even the necklace, though anyone who knew their jewelry could tell the diamond hanging from it was worth a small fortune. No, it was the fact that you walked in with a purpose. Like you owned the damn room, because in your mind, you already did.

You’d been watching Jeonghan for a long time, standing in the shadows while your father pointed out the way he played—strategic, patient, never letting emotion cloud his judgment. You’d learned from the best. And now you were here to take it all. Just like he did, over and over again, watching others lose everything while he walked away with the spoils.

The poker room buzzed with energy as you made your entrance, the soft click of your heels barely audible over the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. And there he was, Jeonghan, sitting at the table with that lazy confidence that made him so irritatingly attractive. Black shirt half-buttoned, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingers, his lips soft and plump from the drink. Sunglasses held his long hair back, giving him that laid-back, don’t-give-a-shit aura.

The dealer froze, eyes flicking between you and the table. “We’re missing one,” she announced.

Jeonghan’s eyes finally darted your way, trailing up your form with a slow, deliberate sweep. You could practically feel his curiosity, maybe even a hint of amusement. You gave him a brief glance, then turned your attention to the chair that was waiting for you.

“Well,” Jeonghan drawled, “Guess we’re starting now.”

You slid into the chair, ignoring the stares from around the table. Emotion? Distraction? None of it touched you. You had one focus. Winning.

The game started slow, with each player eyeing the table as if the cards themselves could tell secrets. You already knew what Jeonghan was up to; you’d seen it a thousand times before. He was the type to play people, not just cards. He watched everyone, but he never let on how much he was paying attention. Those sharp eyes darting from one player to the next.

You glanced at the woman on the other side of the table, her mirrored glasses catching the shady light. Amateurs. You could see her cards in the reflection—oblivious, reckless. A snort almost left your lips, but you held it back. Instead, your brows furrowed, unable to comprehend how someone could be that careless.

Jeonghan noticed too. His eyes flicked toward the woman, then shifted back to you. He caught the disgust on your face and had to suppress a laugh, a short breath escaping his nose. It was barely noticeable, but you didn’t miss it.

That’s how he played—small reactions, little observations. He wasn’t just studying the cards. He was reading the room. But that’s where most people faltered. Poker wasn’t just about reading your opponent; it was about mastering yourself. Turning off every feeling, every twitch of emotion. You weren’t here to feel. You were here to win. And to win, you had to make choices that seemed heartless to everyone else. But for you, it was all part of the plan.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was searching for something. His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign, any crack in your composure. But there was nothing. Your expression was stone-cold, eyes devoid of the shine he’d seen in others. Where most people’s emotions played out on their faces—joy, fear, anger—you gave him nothing. Your gaze was lifeless, almost opaque, like you weren’t really there. You were present, but distant, your mind somewhere else entirely.

And for once, he couldn’t figure someone out.

In poker, most people give themselves away without even realizing it. The way their breath catches when they get a good hand, or how their fingers tap when they’re bluffing. Some people can’t hide a damn thing, spilling their favorite music, their past traumas, their entire soul with a single look. But you? Jeonghan couldn’t even tell if you were a real person sitting across from him. You were like a ghost—untouchable, unreadable.

He detested that.

Still, he didn’t let it show. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he raised the stakes. His movements were plotted, but you could tell his focus had shifted. He was no longer playing to win. He was playing to figure you out. Watching the way your fingers hovered over the chips, how you folded your cards with meticulous, emotionless care.

You saw it. The way he tried to bait you. He’d push, then pull back, testing the waters, throwing small bluffs, but never fully committing. That was his game—slow manipulation, never giving you too much, always keeping you on your toes.

But you’d already seen it. You’d watched him do it time and time again. You weren’t fooled by the charm, the calculated nonchalance. You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted to get inside your head, unravel whatever mystery he thought you were hiding.

The game stretched on, cards dealt, chips thrown in. But as the final hands approached, something strange happened. Neither of you was winning.

Jeonghan was too wrapped up in his obsession with breaking you down, and you? You were too focused on figuring out his game—confirming every theory you’d ever had about how he played. His tells, his habits, the way his fingers always lingered a second too long on his cards when he was bluffing. You knew him. Inside and out.

But that didn’t help you win. Not tonight.

The dealer called the game. Neither of you took the pot.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a slow, lazy smirk curling on his lips. “Guess we’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.

You just looked at him, eyes still flat, still unreadable. “Maybe,” you replied, voice cold and detached. “But next time, focus on the cards.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, trying one last time to peel back the layers. But he couldn’t.

You are going to be a pain in his neck. 

[...]

Jeonghan had been searching for you everywhere—tax records, statements, social media, anything that could give him a glimpse into who you were outside the poker room. But nothing. 

And the irony of it all? You were right under his nose, standing behind his back in the past, unnoticed, more times than he could count. Just another face in the crowd, a "normal" girl, blending into the background while making small talk with the people who mattered. Someone important, someone worth impressing—but not you, not in his eyes. He never paid enough attention to connect the dots.

That was Jeonghan’s weakness. He could size up the players at the table, but in the real world? He let things slip. You remembered when you caught him, the moment he faltered at the table—a time he lacked patience, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was too sure of himself, but his fingers twitched when he was about to bluff too big. You’d hissed under your breath, watching him give himself away with that tiny tell. He was good, no doubt, but even the best had cracks.

There was also that time, years ago, when he had a girl by his side. A classic, picture-perfect trophy—long legs, expensive clothes, hair and nails done like she was auditioning for a role in some gangster flick. She was the stereotypical “pimp’s wife,” hanging off Jeonghan’s arm while he gazed at her with those stupid, love-drunk eyes. 

You had rolled your eyes so hard they almost got stuck. 

The entire casino buzzed with rumors about her—the way she’d swindled money under his nose, how she was there for the money, for the benefits. And Jeonghan? He didn’t even see it coming. Too wrapped up in the fantasy, too blind to notice how she played him. Eventually, she broke his heart in the most humiliating way possible, leaving him behind with nothing but those pathetic rumors, the gossip about his downfall trailing after him like perfume.

Tonight, though, things were different. This game wasn’t in the usual place. No, it was on a luxury cruise, far outside any regulations, outside the safety of controlled territory. Here, anything could happen, and everything was allowed. You made sure your presence was felt before you even sat down. A bigger diamond hung around your neck tonight, matching the heavy stones on your earrings and the glint of the ring on your finger. It was subtle, but anyone with half a brain could tell what you were signaling—wealth, power, danger. A quiet boast that you could bury anyone at this table if you wanted to.

As you sat down, you noticed the last game’s winner strategically choosing the seat next to yours, clearly hoping to ride the wave of luck or maybe get a read on you. A smile tugged at your lips. Not today, ma boy. He thought he had an advantage? Not even close. You glanced at him, knowing full well that every smile you gave, every tiny reaction, was another move in the game. But you were always three steps ahead of them all.

Across from you sat Jeonghan, his gaze as slutty as ever, eyes dragging over you with zero shame. You knew that look—he wasn’t even trying to hide his interest. But you didn’t bite. You didn’t act on impulse, never did. Every move you made was calculated, every risk weighed and measured long before you stepped into this room. That’s how you won. While everyone else was still trying to figure out the rules, you’d already written your own.

The game started, tension building as the cards hit the table. You could feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you, trying to catch something, anything, but you gave him nothing. He was good, but you were better, already mapping out his play. You watched his fingers, the way they tapped against his chips when he was thinking. 

But what really caught your attention was the way he murmured under his breath, almost absentmindedly, when he was sizing up his opponents. It was like he was narrating his own game, whispering little clues while doing the opposite of what he wanted people to think.

He was messing with their heads, giving them false signals while slipping in moves they didn’t expect. You could see the way the other players were starting to falter, misreading his intentions, stumbling over their decisions as Jeonghan fed them just enough to confuse them.

But you weren’t fooled.

You knew his game too well, knew the way he liked to play with people’s minds. He was trying to throw you off, make you second-guess yourself. But every look, every murmur, every bluff was something you had already anticipated.

Jeonghan was talking too much.

He always did this when he was trying to manipulate people—narrating his moves, acting like it was just him thinking out loud. But tonight, it was getting under your skin in a way that made you want to roll your eyes so hard it hurt. Every word that spilled from his mouth, every cocky smirk, every calculated glance was just noise. Too much noise.

And you were done with it.

So, with a calmness that could make ice seem warm, you leaned back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you shuffled your chips between your fingers. Then, with a voice that cut through the air like a knife, you asked, “Mr. Yoon… how’s your ex?”

You didn’t miss the way the room collectively held its breath. Players around the table stilled, the soft murmurs from the crowd fading into a stunned silence. People thought it was just a curious, innocent question, maybe a playful jab at his famous love life. They didn’t know the weight of it, the way it pierced straight into him.

But he knew.

You had crossed a line. A very delicate one. And you did it with a smile, like it was nothing. Like stepping over the line was as easy as stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. And that’s what set it off.

Jeonghan froze, his hand hovering over his cards. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. It was as if your question had punched the air right out of his lungs. His cool, confident conduct cracked, just for a second, but enough for you to see the split.

That girlfriend. The one who crushed his heart into dust and didn’t even look back. She wasn’t just a sore subject—she was the wound he never let anyone touch. And you? You didn’t just touch it. You pressed down hard, twisting the knife until the pain reflected in his eyes.

“She… uh,” he stammered, trying to regain his footing, fingers twitching around his cards. His face didn’t show much at first—Jeonghan was too practiced for that. But it was in his hands. The way they fumbled for his chips, the way his thumb nervously tapped against the table.

His mind was unraveling, and you watched it happen in real time. The words you’d thrown at him weren’t just a blow—they were a ticking time bomb, going off in his head over and over again. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t pull himself back together fast enough. You’d cracked something in him, and now all those emotions he usually buried deep were flooding to the surface.

"She’s good," he finally managed to mumble, forcing a shrug, his attempt at brushing it off. But it was too late. He had faltered, and everyone saw it.

You smiled, your eyes cold and sharp, watching as he tried to hide behind that stupid grin of his. But the damage was done. You had used his own tactics against him—poking and prodding at the weaknesses until he couldn’t help but crumble. Only this time, it was worse. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of mind game.

Jeonghan tried to refocus, pulling his attention back to the cards. But his hands were shaking now, and he made a mistake. He matched a bet he shouldn’t have. His stack of chips was dwindling, and everyone at the table could see it.

You caught the twitch in his fingers when he was about to bluff, the way his eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but you were. You watched every tiny movement, every subtle tell he gave away as the game went on. He was unraveling, and you were loving every second of it.

As the rounds continued, his frustration became more and more apparent. His jaw clenched, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his usual smooth talk started to falter. His voice was quieter now, unsure. Every time he looked at his cards, you could see the doubt in his eyes. He was playing on autopilot, too distracted by the question still gnawing at his brain.

How’s your ex?

The question echoed in his mind, louder than the crowd, louder than the sound of the cards being dealt. It was a constant hum, a reminder of his failure, both in love and in the game. The more he thought about it, the more mistakes he made. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t compartmentalize the way he usually did. You’d crawled under his skin, and now he was lost in his own head.

The more uncomfortable he became, the more the game tilted in your favor.

And then, it happened. His final misstep. Jeonghan threw in all his chips on a hand that he was convinced would win, but his bluff was too obvious, too desperate. You saw it from a mile away. With a slow, deliberate smirk, you laid your cards on the table.

Straight flush.

The room gasped. Jeonghan’s face went white, his jaw literally dropping as he stared at the cards in disbelief. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. His brain was still trying to catch up, still reeling from the question that had taken him out of the game long before the cards were even dealt.

You leaned forward, your smile turning into something sharper, more vicious as you pulled the massive pile of chips toward you, raking them in with your arms. “Better luck next time,” you said.

Jeonghan just sat there, stunned, watching as you claimed victory without even breaking a sweat. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this. Not when someone used his tactics and twisted them until they cut deeper than he ever intended. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare at you, his mind still spinning, still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

But you already knew. You’d gotten inside his head, turned the tables on him, and left him gutted, just like his ex had done.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop. After that first loss, he played again. Then another game. And another. Each one worse than the last. Every time, he thought he could regain control, pull himself together, get back into his rhythm—but no. He was spiraling, his thoughts spinning out of control. His hands trembled with every bet, his bluffs grew weaker, and his confidence bled out with every chip that slipped through his fingers.

At one point, his friend—a familiar face, someone who’d watched him dominate this scene for years—touched his shoulder, giving him a sharp look. “Stop, Jeonghan. You’ve lost enough.”

But he couldn’t stop. He needed to win something. He needed to claw back even a shred of his dignity, anything to remind himself he was still Jeonghan, the legend. But the more he tried, the deeper he dug his own grave. Every hand was a humiliation.

By the time the final round ended, Jeonghan wasn’t even sitting anymore. He stood, arms crossed, shoulders tense as he watched the game from the side, a silent observer. He didn’t need to say it—the shame on his face was clear enough. He never had to stand and watch. It was beneath him. But tonight, he was left with no choice, stripped of everything he had worked for.

And you? You rose from your seat like it was nothing, your body language as casual as if you had just finished a friendly round at a small-stakes table. You didn’t even bother to look at him, didn’t care about the people whispering around you, the ones who were still buzzing over the fact that you had won every round. You walked out like the night didn’t matter. Like it was just another game.

For Jeonghan, though, it was devastating. His ego lay shattered, a million pieces scattered on the floor. The heartbreak from his ex? That pain had dulled over time. But you had ripped open that old wound, making it raw again, bringing back every piece of humiliation he had tried to bury. He felt himself fumbling, trying to grasp something solid, but everything was slipping through his fingers.

And then he saw you.

Like some kind of devil on his shoulder, you were there, watching him as you stood by the bar. You didn’t even need to say a word. The sight of you—so calm, so unbothered—made him feel sick. You ordered a drink, took it in hand, and with a quiet smirk on your lips, you started walking towards your room.

Jeonghan couldn’t let it go.

His feet moved before his brain even caught up. He followed you, his pulse pounding in his ears, that familiar swagger of his long gone. He didn’t even know what he wanted from you—answers, confrontation, something—but all he knew was that he needed to speak to you.

You walked into your room like you knew he’d be behind you, the door clicking shut behind him as he entered. There you were, standing by the window, holding your drink like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just ripped his ego to shreds in front of everyone.

Jeonghan's voice was low, strained, almost shaky. “What the hell was that?”

You turned, eyes cold, that same infuriating smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What do you mean?” you asked, sipping your drink slowly.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, stepping closer, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You knew exactly what you were doing, bringing her up like that.”

You shrugged, unfazed, as if his anger meant nothing to you. “It was just a question.”

“Bullshit.” His voice cracked. “You—you went there on purpose. You knew it would mess with me, and you did it anyway.”

Another sip. Another smile. You didn’t even blink as you watched him unrave. “Isn’t that what you do? Get inside people’s heads? Push their buttons until they break?” You leaned against the window, eyes gleaming with delight as you spoke. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “This was different. You crossed a line.”

You tilted your head, the smile widening. “Oh? And what line is that, Jeonghan? The one where you keep your emotions locked up and pretend they don’t exist? Or the one where you think you’re untouchable?”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere between you two, viscous with stress—anger, yes, but something else too. Something he didn’t want to admit was there. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second, before he forced himself to look away.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “That wasn’t just about the game.”

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink again, taking your time. “No, Jeonghan. I get it more than you think.”

His frustration spiked, fingers twitching at his sides as he fought to keep his voice steady. “What is this? Huh?” He took a step closer, his body tense, looming over you. “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. If anything, you seemed to enjoy the way he was coming undone in front of you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to matter, you want me to care, but you don’t. You’re just… there.”

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You’re full of shit.”

“Maybe,” you said with a light chuckle, finishing your drink and placing the empty glass on the table beside you. “But you’re here, Jeonghan. Following me, like some lost puppy, hoping for… what? Closure? An apology?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanted to get inside my head, Jeonghan. But look at you. You’re the one who’s a mess. You’re the one who’s crumbling.”

You could see it in his eyes—the conflict, the way he was battling with himself. The fury, the frustration, the desperation. And underneath all of that? The craving. The way his gaze flickered to your lips again, the way his breathing hitched every time you moved just a little closer.

But you stayed cold, unfeeling, watching him with that same smirk on your face, enjoying every second of his discomfort.

“Go on,” you whispered. “Tell me how much you hate me. How much I’ve fucked with your head. Tell me I’m the problem.”

Jeonghan's lips parted, but no words came out. He was shaking with rage, with something else, his hands twitching as if he wanted to grab you, shake you, do something. But he didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because you had won. Again.

But through it all, there was one that kept circling back to the same question:

Who the hell are you?

“I don’t even know you,” he spat, his voice cracking. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or why the fuck you’re doing this to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still playing on your lips. “Don’t you, though?” Your voice was calm, icy, as if his unraveling in front of you was nothing more than a spectacle for your amusement.

“No.” He shook his head, stepping closer, his face inches from yours now. “I don’t. You—” His words stumbled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t make sense of. “You show up out of nowhere, tear me apart in front of everyone, and then act like I’m supposed to—” His voice wavered, almost pleading. “I don’t even know your fucking name.”

You chuckled, a low sound that made him shiver. “That’s the thing with you, Jeonghan. You don’t know anyone, really. Not unless it benefits you. You see people as pawns, tools to get what you want. All these years, you’ve played your little game, always one step ahead of everyone else. But you never bothered to look around, did you? Never noticed the people who were watching you.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You leaned in just enough that your breath brushed his skin. “I was always there, Jeonghan. Watching. Learning. I’ve seen you win, lose, fake that stupid smile when things don’t go your way.” Your eyes darkened, voice dropping as your lips curled into a mocking smile. “But you? You never noticed me. Not once.”

Jeonghan’s breath hitched as your words sank in. His mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of memories, moments, faces in the background. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place you. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice shaking, though he wasn’t even sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

“I’m not.” Your voice was cold, cutting through his defenses with ease. “You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice anyone who didn’t directly serve you. That’s your problem, Jeonghan. You think the world revolves around you, and anyone outside your little bubble? They don’t exist. You never cared to look at anyone unless they were a threat to you. Unless they had something you wanted.”

His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know enough.” You stepped closer, your bodies barely an inch apart now. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the way your words slipped under his skin, pulling at every insecurity he had buried deep. “I know how you ignored the signs when your ex was using you. How you let her walk all over you because you were too blind to see her for what she really was. I know how you couldn’t keep your emotions in check tonight, how I got into your head so easily because you’re weak.”

Jeonghan’s breath came out in shallow bursts, his chest heaving with each one. He was crumbling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling, not with the way you were tearing him apart piece by piece. “Shut up,” he whispered, voice barely audible—as if he was afraid of how much truth was in your words.

You didn’t stop. You pressed on, your voice softer now, but no less cutting. “That’s why you don’t remember me. Because I didn’t matter to you. Because I wasn’t something you could use.”

Jeonghan's gaze flickered to your lips, the pressure between you two thickening with every word that passed. He wanted to hate you. He wanted to scream at you, push you away, do anything to get you out of his head. But he couldn’t. Instead, he found himself leaning in closer, drawn to the coldness in your eyes, the way you seemed to see right through him.

“And now?” he muttered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. “What do you want now?”

You tilted your head, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you smiled, your voice dripping with condescension. “I already got what I wanted.” You reached up, your fingers ghosting along the side of his face, barely touching him, yet it sent a shock through his entire body. “You. Like this. Completely wrecked. Fucked, because of me.”

His breath hitched, and before he could think, his hands shot up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. It was a desperate, reckless move, one born out of frustration, anger, and something else he didn’t want to name. But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away.

Instead, you smirked up at him, your eyes glinting with something dark, and whispered, “You’re so predictable.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan hissed again, but this time, his voice was strained, thick with something deeper than just anger. His fingers tightened around your waist, holding you in place as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. He hated how much power you had over him, how every word out of your mouth only made him want you more.

You raised an eyebrow, that same infuriating smile still plastered on your face. “Make me.”

That was all it took for him to snap.

And then, he kissed you like he was trying to take back control, like he needed to prove something—to himself, to you, to anyone watching. But deep down, he knew it was a losing battle. Because you weren’t kissing him back with desperation. No, you kissed him like you had already won and this was just another part of the game.

His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as if he needed to ground himself, to feel something real in this moment. But even as he kissed you, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, that nagging thought stayed at the back of his mind.

You were still in control.

And that thought only made him kiss you harder, more fiercely, like he could erase it if he just tried harder.

“You’ll never figure me out,” you murmured against his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “And that’s why you’ll always lose.”

He hated you. He wanted you. And he couldn’t tell which feeling was stronger.

His hand tightened in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he yanked your head back hard. The hurried pull sent a harsh jolt of pain through your scalp, but instead of a wince, what came out of your mouth was a quiet, throaty laugh. “You—such a bitch,” he growled, but you could see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, watching you—fucking laughing at the pain.

The corner of your mouth curled up, lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “You think that hurts?” you taunted, maybe challenging. “Do it harder.”

Jeonghan’s grip tightened, a growl thundering from his chest as he yanked even harder, and this time your head jerked back, the pain shooting through you in a way that only made you smile wider. The way he watched you, eyes wide, mouth salivating, had you lit up inside.

His lips crashed down on yours again, rough and biting, teeth dragging across your bottom lip as if trying to draw blood. You hissed into his mouth, but he didn’t let up, kissing you harder.

 But this wasn’t just some kiss. It was a battle, and he was losing.

Your hands gripped the back of his neck, nails digging in as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped his throat. When he bit down hard on your lip, you cursed at him.

“Fucking do it right,” you spat between heavy breaths. “Or don’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan’s eyes dimmed, his jaw clenching as he pushed you back against the nearest surface—a column that was inside the room. His free hand sliding down to your thigh, roughly pulling it up to hook around his waist. “You think you can just order me around, huh?” By his tone… Yes, you think. 

You smirked, breathless but still in control. “I know I can.”

He didn’t waste any more words. His lips moved to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, and you hissed, arching against him. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing against the edge of your panties before yanking them aside, not giving a single fuck about being gentle.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers slid over your wetness, the folds doing a warm caress on his fingers, teasing you just enough to make your breath hitch. “Tell me.”

You didn’t answer him, but your body betrayed you, hips pushing toward his hand, craving more. He noticed, of course, because he always did. But this time, he wasn’t the one in control, and he knew it.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost strained as his fingers barely grazed over you, enough to drive you insane but not enough to satisfy.

You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes meeting his, still cold but twinkling with fun. “I want you to shut the fuck up and make yourself useful.”

That did it. Jeonghan dropped to his knees, yanking your dress up as he settled between your legs, not wasting any time. His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them as his mouth hovered just above your heat. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, feel how much he wanted this, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking.

He pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss just above your clit, his teeth grazing your skin before he moved lower, his tongue flicking out just enough to make you gasp. “Still want me to shut up?” he murmured against you, his voice full of smug.

But before you could answer, his mouth was on you, and any retort you had died in your throat. His tongue was merciless, moving over you making your legs tremble. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but it was impossible. A low moan tore from your lips as his mouth worked you over, his tongue circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of force.

Your hand instinctively shot to his hair, gripping it tight as you tried to control your trembling legs. But he wasn’t slowing down. His tongue moved faster, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until your whole body was quivering.

He bit down, just enough to make you hiss, your nails digging into his scalp as you cursed him under your breath. “Fuck—” you gasped, body arching toward him. “Don’t stop.”

Jeonghan didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as his tongue moved faster. Every flick, every swirl was straightforward, designed to make you lose the command. And you were, piece by piece. The cold, detached front you’d kept up was slipping, crumbling under the warmth of his mouth, the way he devoured you like it was the only thing that mattered.

You could feel it, the edge approaching fast, and you let out a low moan, your hips moving against his face as you chased it. “Fucking hell, Jeonghan—” you gasped, your voice leaving like a whisper as the orgasm hit you hard. Your body tensed, legs trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless, your mind blank except for the overstimulating sensation of his mouth still on you.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up until your body finally relaxed against him, spent and slaked. Only then did he pull back, his lips swollen and slippery with your arousal, his eyes meeting yours with triumph

You looked down at him, chest still heaving, but your smirk was back in full force. “You slacked at the table tonight, Jeonghan.” The words rolled off your tongue with conscious slowness, each one cutting him just a little deeper. “But down there… between my legs? You were such a good boy.”

He froze, still so close to your cunt. You could feel and see his breath hitch at your words, his whole body tensing, and that only made your smirk grow wider. As you lower down, you let your fingers lazily trail down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitched under your touch.

“You know,” you continued, voice leaking with mock sweetness, “maybe if you put as much effort into the game as you do into this,” your hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of his pants, “you wouldn’t have lost everything tonight.”

His face faltered for a split second, the confidence in his eyes flickering as he processed your words. You could see his jaw clench, his pride taking the hit. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You chuckled softly, your hand slipping further down, squeezing the bulge in his pants, feeling the tension there. “Look at you,” you whispered, “so obedient when it counts. Such a good boy.”

His lips parted, his breath coming out in shallow bursts, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tell me,” you continued, eyes glinting as you applied a little more pressure, “was it worth it? Throwing away your pride at the table just so you could be on your knees for me?”

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or push you away. His ego was bruised—no, shattered—and here you were, rubbing salt into the wound, reminding him exactly how far he’d fallen.

Your hand tightens around Jeonghan's neck, your fingers pressing into the soft skin as he chokes, his breath cutting short. The sound that escapes him is desperate, needy, a cough that barely finds its way through the pressure you've applied. His body tenses, his muscles straining.

"Get up," you command.

He stumbles, one hand on the floor, the other grasping for something to steady himself as he rises to his feet, eyes lost, clouded over in a haze of confusion and submission that he’s trying so hard to fight. 

Your grip on his throat loosens just enough for him to take in a sharp breath, but you don’t give him much relief. Instead, your fingers trail from his neck to his chin, tipping his face up so his eyes meet yours. His lips part instinctively, searching for air, but you take that as an invitation, sliding two fingers past them, pushing into his mouth without warning.

His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips wrap around your fingers, mouth warm and wet as he takes them in, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts through his nose.

"Suck," you command, voice sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

He complies, but it's tentative, unsure, his tongue brushing over your fingers but lacking the enthusiasm you expect. You press your fingers deeper, feeling the resistance in his throat as he gags, eyes watering slightly. 

“Do it right,” you growl, eyes narrowing as you press harder into his mouth, your fingers curling against his tongue. "Suck them right."

This time, he obeys. His lips tighten around your fingers, and his head bobs forward slowly, drawing you deeper into his mouth as he begins to suck properly. His cheeks hollow out as his tongue swirls around your fingers, slick and wet, saliva coating your skin as he works. His eyes, though filled with defiance, are beginning to show something more desperate, more submissive.

Your smirk widens as you watch him, completely captivated by the sight of him on the edge of breaking. You can feel the heat building inside you, the wetness pooling between your legs as you watch him, his mouth obediently working over your fingers, his body betraying the fight he's trying to put up.

"Good boy," you praise as you feel him sucking harder, as if the praise makes him crave more.

With your other hand, you move to his belt, your fingers working swiftly to unbuckle it, the metal clinking as you pull it loose. His body stiffens, but he doesn’t stop sucking, not even when you move to his zipper, yanking it down in one quick, sharp movement. The fabric of his jeans parts, revealing the hard line of his cock straining against the black briefs beneath.

You press your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his throat as you slip your other hand inside his jeans, gripping the base of his cock. The contrast of sensations makes him jolt—your fingers choking him, while the other hand wraps around him, stroking slowly.

He gags around your fingers, eyes wide as he looks up at you, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he doesn’t. Instead, he adjusts, his throat contracting as he fights to keep sucking, his lips tight around your fingers as you press them deeper.

"That's it," you purr, your voice low and sultry, watching him struggle to keep up, to please you. "Take it all."

Your hand moves in rhythm with his sucking, your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating around your fingers as his hips jerk forward slightly, desperate for more, but you keep the pace slow, torturous.

He’s trying so hard to hold onto his pride, to resist fully submitting, but you can feel the cracks widening, see the way his body reacts, how his mouth moves more eagerly over your fingers now, desperate to please. His cock twitches in your hand, and you can feel the tension building in him, the way he’s teetering on the edge of giving in completely.

You pull your fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva still connecting them as you smirk down at him. His lips part as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving. You use your now-wet fingers to stroke his cock, the slickness making each movement smoother, more intense.

"Look at you," you tease as you watch his hips buck into your hand, his body betraying him completely. "So fucking desperate."

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to hold on, but you don’t stop. Your hand moves faster, stroking him with purpose now, your wet fingers sliding over his length.

“Open your eyes,” you command sharply, your grip tightening around him. “Look at me.”

He obeys, his eyes snapping open, wide and desperate, his lips parted as soft gasps and whimpers escape him. 

"Good boy," you murmur again, watching the way his cock twitches in response, how his breath catches in his throat. "Now, don’t stop until I tell you to."

Your hand moves faster, the slickness making each stroke more torturous. He lets out a broken moan, his hips jerking forward into your hand as his body trembles with the effort to hold back. 

"You’re gonna finish when I say," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear as your hand moves faster, your grip tightening. “Not a second before.”

Jeonghan’s breath is ragged, his body shaking with the effort to obey.

Your grip on his cock tightens as you pull him closer, dragging him by his phallus, his body stumbling into yours with a strangled moan. His head falls onto your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as his hand shoots out to grab your arm, desperate to steady himself—like you’re about to knock him out.

You guide him toward the bed. “Can’t even walk straight Jeonghan?”

He lets out a weak sound, something between a moan and a groan, as you push him onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets. His eyes are glazed over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock standing stiff and red, twitching. You smirk as you climb onto the bed, straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips.

You hover over him for a moment, savoring the sight of him laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. His hands twitch as if he wants to touch you, but you pin them down with your knees, shaking your head with a wicked grin.

“Don’t even think about it,” you say. “You don’t get to touch until I say so.”

Jeonghan lets out a soft whimper, his lips parted as he struggles to control himself, his body aching for more. 

You reach down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, just enough to expose his chest. His skin is flushed, his nipples hard, and you let out a low chuckle as you pinch one between your fingers. He jerks beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his back arches slightly off the bed.

“Sensitive here too, hm?” you tease, giving his nipple another sharp pinch. His hips buck up into you, desperate for friction, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his chest, keeping him in place.

His breath is coming in short, shallow bursts, his cock twitching against your thigh as you tease him, dragging the moment out, savoring every second of his desperation.

Finally, you lift your hips, positioning yourself over him. You guide his cock to your entrance, lowering yourself just enough for his tip to slip inside, the stretch slow and torturous. He gasps, his hips jerking up instinctively, but you slam them back down with a firm grip on his waist.

“Don’t. Move,” you command, your voice sharp.

He bites his lip, his head falling back onto the pillow, chest heaving as you sink down onto him, inch by agonizing inch. The way he fills you completely, the feeling of him trembling beneath you as you take him in, slowly, savoring every second.

You stop halfway, smirking as you grind your hips in slow circles, teasing him with the promise of more. His eyes snap open, his lips parting in a desperate gasp as he looks up at you, pleading.

“Please,” he groans. “Please, I can’t… I need it.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers trailing down his chest, pinching his nipples again just to watch him squirm. Without warning, you slam down the rest of the way, taking him fully inside you. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, his body jerking beneath you as the pleasure hits him all at once. You bite your lip, your own breath catching as the sensation washes over you, the fullness, the stretch, the way his cock throbs inside you.

You start moving, riding him hard and fast, your hips slamming down onto his with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His hands shoot up to your hips, but you slap them away, pinning them above his head as you fuck him, using him for your own pleasure.

“You feel that?” you hiss, your lips brushing against his ear. “That’s what it feels like to be used.”

Jeonghan can only moan in response. You lean back, riding him harder, faster, your hands gripping his wrists, grinding down on him with every thrust, feeling the tension building inside both of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head tossing back, his eyes squeezing shut as he bites down on his lip, trying desperately to hold on. But you know he’s close. You can feel it.

Jeonghan’s breath hitches, his eyes fluttering open for a moment, wide and desperate, before they squeeze shut again, his body trembling violently beneath you.

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Cum for me.”

And with that, he breaks. His body tenses, his back arching off the bed as he lets out a strangled moan, his cock twitching violently inside you as he comes, the pleasure hitting him like a freight train. You ride him through it, grinding down on him as you chase your own release.

You lean forward, your body pressing down as your clit grinds against his pelvis. Jeonghan's cock is still deep inside you, and you can feel every inch of him twitching, overstimulated and helpless beneath you. His eyes roll back, lips parted in a messy gasp, his hair splayed out on the mattress like a fallen angel. The way his face twists, dumb with pleasure, is almost enough to push you over the edge by itself. His eyebrows furrow in a compound of pain and ecstasy, and the moans slipping from his throat—whiny, breathless, and downright filthy—send a rush of heat pooling in your belly.

You can feel it building, that pressure inside you, tighter and tighter with every grind of your hips. You’re losing control too, your moans spilling out, desperate and raw, betraying the power you’ve held this whole time. It doesn’t even sound like you’re the one in control anymore. You’re chasing that release, grinding harder, faster, your slickness making it a mess between your legs, each movement slippery, loud. The wet sounds of your bodies sliding together are filthy, and the sensation of the mess you’ve made splashing against your thighs only adds to the intensity building inside you.

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open just as you're on the edge. He looks up at you, pupils blown wide, as though he's watching a divine vision unfold in front of him. The sight of his ruined expression—those parted lips, the way his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath—sends you crashing over the edge.

You let out a broken moan, hips jerking forward as the orgasm tears through you. Your body trembles, thighs clenching around him as you ride out every pulse of pleasure, the mess between your legs gushing onto him, soaking his skin, your breath coming in desperate gasps. You grind down on him one last time, milking every second of it as you feel his cock twitching inside you, overstimulated beyond belief.

“Fuck…” Jeonghan whimpers, his voice raw as his body jerks beneath you, unable to handle any more. His belly caves in, the muscles trembling under your relentless pressure. 

After what feels like forever, you slowly lift yourself off him, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, leaving him twitching and trembling. His body is sprawled out on the bed, his chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, completely undone. You stand up, your legs weak but steady enough as you smooth down your dress, the fabric hugging your curves again as if nothing happened. You fix your hair, eyes never leaving his limp, exhausted form.

Jeonghan’s gaze follows you, his breath shallow, and his face still slack from the overwhelming high. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity, or maybe disbelief, flickering behind them.

"Has anyone ever dominated you like that before?" you ask casually, as if this is a normal conversation after completely ruining him.

He shakes his head, still too breathless to form words. No.

You smirk, tilting your head as you adjust the straps of your dress. “Thought so.”

You step closer to him, leaning down just enough so he can see the wicked gleam in your eyes. “Next time, maybe try not to let your guard down so easily. You’re a mess, Jeonghan.”

He blinks up at you, lips parted, still trying to process everything that just happened. You give him one last amused glance, standing tall and smoothing your dress again before turning on your heel.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you say with a mocking sweetness, smirking as you walk toward the door. Just before leaving, you look over your shoulder, adding, "I’ll be at the party if you ever want to lose again.”