Warnings: spicy but not explicit, non-idol au, supernatural au, university au, reader is a graduate student, guys please don’t walk alone at night stay safe, slight spook, biting, mentions of blood, some fluff, strangers to lovers sort of?? it’s giving fuck it we ball
divider source
Your friends called you a masochist simply for the fact that no human person should be as much of a workaholic night owl as you.
Truth be told, there was no need for the amount of hours you were putting into your dissertation on the daily. But you had always been the kind of person who could take an idea and run with it far.
You did most of your research at home on a computer but when you needed more comprehensive sources, you could take a short walk from your apartment to the campus library.
One night, however, you found yourself at the library closer to closing hours, frustrated. You had spent what felt like forever looking for data from a specific kind of study and the only thing you found that was close was a book in a language you couldn’t read.
Heaving a sigh, you left the book on a cart and gathered your things to leave. You were just going to have to spend extra time searching through internet archives tonight.
You honestly felt a bit tired at the thought, this is the part of research you hated the most. So you decided a pick-me-up to get through the rest of the night would be smart to grab.
It wasn’t so late that every cafe around campus would be closed, just some of them. So you walked along a dimly-lit road towards the closest one.
Nothing felt strange until after you’d left the cafe, sipping on a latte.
You were approaching a crosswalk and there was a moment where you could have sworn you could hear someone walking behind you, but when you glanced over your shoulder there was the same empty street you’d walked down before.
Getting closer to your building, you felt the strange feeling again but you didn’t turn to look. Instead, you felt an unusually cold draft blow through you as you stopped in front of the door.
A tad creeped out, you whipped your head around in all directions but you, again, saw nothing out of the ordinary. You shook your head and exhaled sharply as you walked in to get back to your apartment.
The next day you had a seminar class in the afternoon. It was a class dedicated to niche topics, so every week a new guest speaker would come in to talk about how they’ve conducted their research in less studied fields.
This week a man named Mark Tuan was scheduled to speak about - what did it say on the syllabus? - supernatural phenomena.
It was a well-known fact that in history, there’s been evidence to support that human-like creatures that can transform or transcend reality exist. It was still widely disputed on how many species still exist today.
Honestly, you weren’t sure what to think. The last time a guest lecture was about anything close to that it was an old lady talking about the dichotomy of nocturnal creatures. You smiled to yourself at the memory of one of your friends writing down your name as an example on a handout for that day.
You were taking out your note-taking materials when Mr. Tuan entered the classroom. When you finally looked up and saw him, you froze.
He was beautiful.
Maybe too beautiful.
His skin was perfectly smooth, his hair seemed to flounce in slow motion, and his features were noble, flattered by his pristine clothes.
Then he smiled to greet your class and it was practically over for you. He was gorgeous when he smiled and his voice was a buttery smooth treat to listen to.
You briefly made eye contact and you could have melted from how warm it made you feel when suddenly, a cold draft of air washed over you the same way it did yesterday, giving you goosebumps.
“Hello class, my name is Mark Tuan and I have been a researcher in the field of supernatural creatures for a long time. I specialize in…”
The word “spellbound” seemed to make sense to you for the first time in your life as your entire peripheral seemed to gloss. You felt yourself forgetting where you were, your shoulders relaxing, almost even forgetting your name as you watched Mark brush a hand through his hair.
One of your classmates raised their hands. Mark smiled (making your heart skip another beat) and called on them.
You shook your head to snap out of it and saw that Mark hadn’t stopped looking at you, but then he turned away immediately to continue his lecture, making you think you’d imagined that he’d still been looking.
“...Centuries ago it was discovered by humans that werewolves and vampires have similarities in behavior and supernatural power, such as being able to turn humans into them, usually to mate for life. It’s strange, given their differences in anatomy, so there is still research being done into a possible common ancestor from prehistoric times.”
“If vampires can live forever and reproduce, why do some people still don’t think they exist?”
“Great question! A colleague of mine did a study on the social impact of supernatural phenomena to delve into it more but from what I know, and what some of you all might know already, there were never laws passed in most human civilizations to protect the rights of humanoid supernatural creatures. Humans have always been more afraid than not of that which …”
As the lecture went on and more information was covered, you thought to search up the study Mr. Tuan had mentioned. You briefly opened a new tab on your device to search but for some reason nothing was coming up. You decided to go back to it later and tune back in to class.
“Even though vampires can turn humans into them, they are still an evolving species. They don’t live in packs, or ‘covens’ as much as they did a few hundred years ago because each new generation functioned differently, even gaining powers that older vampires don’t possess, eventually pushing for change. But since vampires don’t die like humans do, there was nowhere for that change to implement as a whole…”
It was the best you’d ever felt sitting in a classroom. You couldn’t have been the only one in that classroom that was absolutely enamored with this young-looking, well-spoken, and intriguing scholar. But you felt unnaturally at ease, your vision only observing him and his beauty.
When you walked back in, Mark glanced at you briefly and you felt that slow-motion feeling again looking at him as you sat back in your seat, feeling embarrassed to yourself how quickly you’d developed a crush on this man.
“Mermaids and sirens don’t actually come from a common ancestor. It’s fascinating but sirens are actually closer related to vampires than vampires are to werewolves because werewolves don’t wear the same reality-shifting filter that sirens and…”
Toward the end, you got up to go to the bathroom. You checked a clock in the hallway and couldn’t believe how quickly the time had flown.
But then, just for a moment - maybe it was a trick of the light - but in that thought you could have sworn you saw Mark move his foot without casting a shadow. Then just as quickly, you felt all of your worries melt away listening to Mark talk.
At the end of class, a swarm of people (mostly girls) walked up to Mark to ask questions, so you decided to just go and maybe search him up later.
The moment the outdoor air hit your face upon exiting the building, it felt like you had been near-sighted your whole life and you were putting glasses on for the first time.
It was almost frightening how you suddenly realized even with notes you’d written down, you could barely remember most of the last hour.
You sat down at one of the benches outside of the building and took out your tablet again. You opened the search tab from earlier and started scrolling further, delving deeper with your prompts until you finally found something that rang a bell.
The main study you could find related to the topic mentioned by Mr. Tuan earlier was by a man named Kim Yugyeom who published it…over a hundred years ago.
That can’t be right…Mr. Tuan couldn’t have been over twenty-eight or so.
But just as you’d entertained that thought, you felt your senses dull again, any worries you might have felt before that moment vanished.
You turned to see Mark Tuan exit the building, wearing a long coat over the smart outfit he’d just been wearing to teach. He turned to see you and he smiled that dazzling smile that made your heart race before. You nodded towards him, trying not to look flustered and he stopped to wave.
“I hope you enjoyed my lecture. Y/N, right? I’m new around here so I wanted to ask someone what’s available for food nearby? But your classmates all had so many questions it slipped my mind.”
“What do you recommend?”
You put your stuff back in your bag and got up. “Well, uh,” omg Y/N, get it together. You cleared your throat and pointed in the direction you had walked from before class.
“That way there’s a couple of small spots, and the other way there’s a few restaurants harder to get to.”
Mark looked grateful as he placed a hand on his chest. His warm eyes practically shone. “That is very kind, I’d like that.”
“Well…” You made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Truly, this man was the definition of handsome. You didn’t even realize what you were saying until you’d said it.
“I was going to go eat ramen or something if you wanted me to show you.”
As you walked and talked with your new acquaintance, trying not to feel uneasy, you found that Mark was more interested in asking you questions than talking about anything else.
“Why did you choose to come to this university for your terminal degree?” Mark asked at some point.
You didn’t have to think too hard for an answer, thankfully. “Honestly, they gave me the most scholarship money out of my options. But I always liked the campus. I always love exploring the library for things I’ve never heard of before.”
“That’s something I enjoy too,” Mark smiled. “Did anything about my lecture today surprise you then?”
Mark looked fascinated by your response. “That’s certainly a well documented part of the research I do.”
Not looking at him, your brows furrowed. For some reason that question felt harder to answer. You actually had to try to remember even though the class had just happened.
“I guess…probably the part about how different supernatural species hunt? And how the evolution of that has influenced human settlement in the past.”
When you walked in, you’d been hoping to see someone you knew so you wouldn’t have to be left alone with Mark. But there was a shocking lack of people around. You had the thought of maybe taking your food to go so that it wouldn’t be awkward eating, but that thought faded quicker than you could catch on as Mark stepped into your lane of sight and led you to a table near the back.
As you got closer to the ramen place, the sun was starting to set, and the way the light hit Mark’s face as he spoke was simply ethereal.
It felt like a dream come true that this was happening to you, really, but you couldn’t shake this very small gut feeling that all wasn’t as it seemed to be.
“Thank you for inviting me to tag along,” Mark spoke a bit softly, making you blush.
You managed a smile with a gulp and waved your hand. “Oh, yeah, anytime.”
If only you’d known then that those words would be the ones to spell your doom.
There was a moment where as you were eating, you and Mark reached for a napkin at the same time and your hands brushed against each other.
Conversation with Mark over dinner continued to be pleasant. You learned that he was originally from overseas and travelled to conduct research with others in his field. He mainly studied werewolves and vampires but he said his favorite topic outside of that were human hybrids and shifters.
His most recent study led him to another university close to yours, where a student had been recently turned by a vampire.
The chill that it sent down your spine wasn’t one of embarrassment, it was the kind you only got when touching fresh ice cubes. Mark’s skin was maybe too cold to the touch for someone who was eating ramen while wearing a coat.
That same gut feeling came back to you and this time you couldn’t ignore it.
“This has been great,” you spoke slowly, trying not to meet Mark’s eyes. “But I should probably get home, I have work to do. I’ll pay for my portion up front.”
“I was going to offer to pay,” Mark replied, catching you off guard. It made you meet his eyes. He looked sincere and you couldn’t help feeling all warm. But you swallowed it down in a polite bow.
“Thank you but it’s okay. It was nice meeting you, maybe I’ll see you around.”
Had you not bowed, maybe you would have noticed the gleam of red that flashed across Mark’s eyes.
Hours later, you were at your computer typing when you got a notification on your phone. One of your classmates had sent a message to the seminar group chat. A few others chimed in as you read.
You were in shock staring at your phone as the conversation continued.
X/N: guyssss i found one of mr. tuan’s published works and it’s about vampire hunting
XX/N: You mean like vampire slayers? He talked about that today
X/N: no like when vampires hunt humans
XX/N: why r u so excited
X/N: bc it was published decades ago
X/N: maybe he’s part vampire or something isn’t that hawt
XXX/N: y’all just noticed?
X/N: do u think if i ask he'll bite me
Were you the only person who didn’t notice anything?
The more you read, the more anxious you felt. You reached the part that said the only warning signs of being hunted that could manifest, such as strange feelings and cold sensations, only happen if a vampire was in close enough range.
You slowly picked up your phone and clicked on the link the first person sent. The article was indeed a tad dated but from the way the paragraphs with no quotations read, you could tell it couldn’t have been a different Mark Tuan.
It talked about how the vampires who still hunt have several methods of luring people in. Studies done by humans-turned-vampires Mark cited showed that vampires more often than not had preferences in their prey. Some enjoyed the chase while others preferred those easier to influence.
“The myth that vampires can open any locked entrance is only partially true,” You read aloud. “Older vampires need to be invited inside first. Newer evolutions…” That’s when you felt that cold draft of wind waft over you again. This time you dropped your phone with a gasp, looked around your room frantically, then ran forward to lock your bedroom door.
“It’s too late,” a familiar voice sing-songed behind you. You whipped around and opened your mouth to scream, but in a nanosecond you felt an freezing cold hand covering your mouth and your back pressed against the door.
“I came in through the window,” Mark spoke in a low voice, slowly grinning. His eyes were dark but you could see the unnatural red glint in them from the glow of the only light in the room, your dimmed lamp.
You tried to squirm but you couldn’t even flinch under the superhuman strength Mark possessed.
As terrified as you were, you couldn’t help but feel your body temperature rise. You particularly felt warm right above your legs where one of Mark’s thighs was pressed against to keep you in place. His gaze on you was so intense, you thought about just going limp for him right then and there.
“I thought about approaching you last night,” Mark spoke, moving his other hand from your chest to caress your shoulder. “But it would have been too easy.”
His hand brushed your hair out of the way of your bare neck, the sight of which made him run his tongue over his canines, which had suddenly become much longer and pointier than you remembered.
But then suddenly he stepped back from you. You blinked twice at his suddenly impish face, his eyes back to normal.
“That was fun. But I don’t want to kill you. Or feed on you against your will.”
You were so dumbfounded at this turn of events that you forgot how to move your body. You tried to step forward but practically tripped right into Mark’s arms.
“Woah, careful!” Mark exclaimed, helping you up.
Once you’d had a moment to collect your thoughts, you sat onto your bed and wrapped your comforter around you. “So…have you been following me for a while?”
“I smelled your scent a few nights ago but it took me a bit to track you. Usually I seek out vampires that work in hospitals who distribute unused blood bags but you…stood out. Amongst most humans I come across. Then I found out you were going to be in the seminar I was invited to so I was…intrigued. Last night I tested my powers on you to see how long I could get by without revealing what I was. You’re one of the stronger ones against hunting abilities so I had to use charm the most today.”
Your face went red remembering all of the fantasies you’d had about him in class. “I…noticed.”
He chuckled and ran his tongue over his teeth again. You admitted to yourself that it was quite the turn-on when he did that.
“I watched you eat human food today, does that mean you’re a hybrid?” You figured there were no weird questions you could ask at this point.
“I’m a pure vampire descended from hybrids. There’s more like me in the world than you’d think. I can replenish my abilities with both food and blood but I have to drink blood at some point to survive. I also don’t burn in the sun.”
You nodded slowly. “The study you mentioned, I found one from a hundred years ago by someone named Kim Yugyeom. How old does that make you?”
Mark smiled and sat down in your desk chair. “You’re a clever one. Yugyeom is a dear friend of mine, he’s a vampire who was once human. I’m about three hundred.”
You felt your mouth dry up as that sank in. “Have you…ever turned anyone?”
Mark pursed his lips. “I…haven’t, actually. Truth be told, you might be the only person I’ve ever felt that instinct towards. I hope that’s not…off putting. We’ve only just met and I’ve never had this chance to figure this feeling out before. I’m not usually one to ‘make an entrance’, so to speak.”
“So…Mark?”
The whiplash this man was giving you internally was making your face contort in ways you never had before. Mark must have picked up on your bewilderment because he let out a chuckle.
You laughed a tiny bit back, trying to relax.
He nodded.
“Uh…does it…hurt? Like, to be bitten?”
Mark shifted his gaze and licked his lips uncomfortably. “Depends on how hungry the vampire is and…how lulled the human. Not all vampires nowadays adapt to modern standards of human decency but I-”
“You can drink from me, it’s okay.”
Mark froze. His eyes bored into yours, darkening in a way that made you feel arousal pool unbiddenly at your core.
You tried to speak again, your voice barely above a whisper. “You terrify me but…it’s not like I didn’t already find you attractive. As long as this isn’t the last time you plan to talk to me, I don’t mind if you-”
In a split second, you were pinned to your mattress with your hands above your head with one hand, Mark on top of you with his other hand cupping your face.
“Are you sure? There will be no going back.” He was breathing heavily, his lips ghosting yours. His pupils were blown with want but you could still see the worry that glinted in his eyes.
You got yourself to nod once and his lips captured yours. You couldn’t stop the moan that emerged from your throat.
Mark’s lips moved feverishly against yours, soaking in your warmth and your pliancy. As he made his way down your neck, you gasped for air in a way that only spurred him on.
“You have no idea…how delicious you feel. And your blood…it sings to me.”
You couldn’t help but whimper at the husky tone of his voice, nor could you help the desire you felt hearing his groans against your skin.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…I won’t do anything more than feed on you tonight but…know that it is taking every fiber of my being not to devour you whole, to make you all mine.”
Mark moved his left hand from your hands to support your neck and his right hand to cradle your back. You felt his nose brush the hot skin above your jugular, then his tongue in such a sensual way, you bit your lip in anticipation.
“Don’t hold your breath, darling…” Mark murmured. “You’ll feel a pinch but I promise to take good care of you.”
You tried to brace yourself as Mark slowly sank his teeth into your neck but the initial pain still came as a shock. However the moment you let out a sharp cry, it quickly turned back to sounds of pleasure.
It felt like getting a hickey, but far more intense. Your last complete thought before your entire body went limp was that vampires must have a numbing agent in their teeth. You could hear Mark sucking in gulp after gulp as you gradually felt dizzy.
Then he removed himself from you and pushed himself up, still on top of you but face to face. He was panting slightly and was looking down at you with heavy-lidded red eyes, some of your blood dribbling down from his mouth to his chin.
It was the most amazing sight you’d ever laid eyes on. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed upon discovery. You wanted more, more of him and more of the pleasure, but you could barely express anything beyond a whimper.
From the way his eyes shifted from red to dark to red again, he must have picked up on your heightened desire, but then he leaned his head back to close his eyes.
“You taste amazing, Y/N…I have to control myself or I’ll suck you completely dry.”
You felt warmth flush your face at the way he said that and he seemed to realize it after. He suddenly looked shy, a complete contrast to before.
“I’m not one of the vampires that have healing abilities so this will just have to do.” Mark’s eyes were still tinted red but his expression and motions looked human again.
“Haha…you know what I mean,” he said, slowly getting off of you.
You watched him grab a tissue from your desk to gingerly wipe his face, as if he was eating at a nice restaurant. Then he took another one to dab your deck with.
You could feel your motor function coming back slowly but you still couldn’t talk yet. Mark didn’t seem surprised and sweetly pulled your chair over to sit by you.
“In case you’re wondering, I'm not full. I drank enough to sustain myself until I can find a local dealer. And I meant what I said, your blood…it does ‘sing’ to me. Feeling it course through me is intense in a way even I can’t fully describe. It’s not everyday a vampire experiences a pull like that.”
You found yourself able to move your arm a bit so you tried to reach for his face but couldn’t quite. Mark gently took your hand to set it back down, rubbing circles into your skin. It sent shivers through you.
You tried to open your mouth, your voice coming out just barely. “You…”
Mark cocked his head in amusement. “What’s that, darling?”
“...you missed a spot…”
Mark blinked. You brought your hand up again, this time successfully touching his cheek and brushing away a spot of blood near his mouth.
Before you could retract your hand, Mark placed his hand over yours in a blink and pressed your palm against his face. You were caught off guard by the gesture, but then watched Mark take a shaky breath.
He turned his face slightly without taking his eyes off yours and pressed his nose against your wrist. Your awareness of the sound of your own pulse heightened as you felt him take in the sensation, your scent lulling him into parting his lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. You felt his grip on your hand shift and tighten around your wrist, his eyes glowing red upon opening them again.
If it wasn’t so dangerous - no, because it was so dangerous, on the teetering edge, you were brimming with excitement and a new rush of arousal.
Mark all but managed to pull himself together with a groan and let your arm go as you were finally able to sit yourself up. Mark saw you wince a bit and in a flash was standing up, supporting you with both arms.
“Let me get you some water, maybe a snack if you have anything.”
“Will you bite my wrist next time?” As soon as it came out, your eyes widened and you cowered your head.
“It’s okay,” Mark laughed heartily, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I know we have a lot to talk about.”
a/n: well clearly I was feeling some type of way
Mark Tuan has such a chokehold on me i cant
idk if anyone on tumblr other than me is still reading got7 fics so i did this on a whim for myself
shoutout to x/n clearly a baddie
stay safe everyone lol i hope you enjoyed
Pairing: Crown Prince!Yugyeom x Reader
Genre: Royalty AU, Fluff, Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Who wants to marry a man they've never met? Yugyeom hopes to convince you he's worth it.
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: mentions of war
You were eager to get away from them all. Talking about war as if it were of no consequence to the people of the kingdom. If it weren’t a big deal then what use would an arranged marriage be? In truth, they simply enjoyed toying with people, drunk on the power they held over everyone around them. Including you. Their laughter made you shake and bite your lip to keep words you wouldn’t take back from hurting their feelings.
You glanced out the window again and a glint of the moonlight off something in the garden caught your attention. Yes, a walk to clear your head and calm down was in order. Who cared if you hadn’t properly met your intended yet? You slipped out the nearest door and navigated the hallways until the cool night air hit your face. The calming effect was instantaneous.
“Do the war discussions bother you, too?”
You whirled around and found a handsome young man approaching. “Oh! I—” His suit was snow white and decorated with all sorts of medals and pins depicting his service to his country. At the least, he was a noble. “Yes. It should bother everyone. Not be discussed with a band playing as you sip fancy wine. It’s ridiculous. People’s lives are at stake.” You huffed and continued forward into the hedge maze. Your companion fell into step beside you.
“I agree. They should treat it seriously. Maybe they’re so carefree because they’ve solved the issue?”
You scoffed. “With the marriage? How foolish of them. Who’s to say it won’t end up making things worse? What if the bride simply…disappeared?”
He gasped softly and stopped in his tracks. “Where would you go? And what about your kingdom, your people?”
“How do you know I’m—” You looked at him and it dawned on you. The black hair, the green and gold sash draped over his chest. It seemed you weren’t the only one to detest wearing a crown. “Oh god. You’re the prince I’m to marry.”
He bowed. “I am Yugyeom, Crown Prince of the House of Kim. I apologize for my arriving late to our engagement announcement soirée.”
You turned on your heel and kept walking deeper into the maze. “It doesn’t matter, to them or to me, so save your apologies.”
“Oh.” He straightened up. “Well, wait! You didn’t answer my question.”
“Do you honestly care? If I were gone, you wouldn’t be forced to marry a stranger you’d be stuck with until one of you die.” You walked faster hoping he’d stop following. “As for my people, they’re at the mercy of those morons in there no matter what I do.”
“That’s not entirely true.” He spoke softly from your left. “Once we’re crowned, we’ll be able to make declarations and rule however we see fit. I know we’ve never met, but I’m familiar with your opinions and desires for the future.” He glanced at you and flushed when your eyes met. “I read the letters you wrote concerning the border issues and women’s rights. Your proposals were well-thought out and articulated, and I’m eager to implement them.”
“You’re just saying that. You don’t want me to run away.” You lifted your chin and narrowed your eyes. “You’ll take it all back once we say ‘I do’ then expect me to keep silent and push out babies.”
His chuckled but it held no mirth. “I have the notes and decree drafts to prove it. My dearest friend will vouch for me. I asked for his opinion on them.”
“A friend?” You turned to him and crossed your arms. “Your advisor, you mean?”
Yugyeom shook his head. “King Jungkook and I often consult each other on important matters concerning our respective kingdoms. I trust him with my life and those of my people.”
You mouth snapped shut. Everyone knew of the benevolent king. More importantly, you stayed up to date on his speeches as you admired the way he thought and ruled his kingdom. Sure, there’d been mentions of his friendships with neighboring countries but you never thought the specifics important. “Oh, well…”
He stepped closer. “With that said, I have no intention of locking you away once we marry. I fully intend for us to stand together. I can handle the foreign affairs while you focus on improving the lives of our people. I personally can’t wait to see their reaction to your plans for solving the poverty crisis.”
“I cannot believe you actually took the time to read anything I’ve written.” You covered your cheeks with your fingers. Shaking your head, you took off once again. “That’s much more than I expected of you.”
“Sounds like I’ve impressed you.” His voice took on a smug tone. “Does that mean I don’t need to list off your hobbies? Though, I admit I’d love to see you play the piano.” You nearly tripped. “If I’m to spend the rest of my life with you, I think it’s only right I learn everything I can.”
“This feels like some sort of weird dream.” You came to a stop when faced with the massive fountain that sat in the center of the maze. “You’re not supposed to be kind and caring. Where’s the chauvinistic, narcissistic spoiled man hoping to have a dozen women in his bed while his queen raises their five children on her own?” The smirk on his face only drove your irritation further. “I don’t want to be okay with marrying you!”
“And why is that?” He closed the distance between you. “Is it because they took away your choice in the matter?”
“Yes! I don’t want to be told what to do, not when it’s something this important. I want to be in love when I walk down the aisle. I want to look forward to consummating our union because I’m comfortable with you, not fear it.” You nearly pulled your hair which would’ve ruined a good hour of sitting until your legs went numb. “And here you are being all cute and supportive and sweet.” You huffed with disgust.
“…You think I’m cute?”
“Oh my god.” You covered your face. “Just leave me here to die.”
“Absolutely not.” He brushed your shoulder with his. When you didn’t move away, he took a chance and ran his fingertips down your arm. “For whatever it’s worth, I’ll admit I’ve had a tiny crush on you for quite some time now.” When you looked at him in question, he nodded. “I’ve always known I’d be set to marry. I was like you at first, against it and sure it’d be a miserable experience. So when they first started mentioning you during meetings…I asked for information. I needed to know what kind of person you were.”
“So when they told you I was a hot-headed, stubborn brat you didn’t go running for the hills?”
He laughed outright, fingers grazing yours. “Hah. No, I didn’t. The second I laid eyes on your portrait, I was a goner.” He looked into your eyes with a look that left your skin covered in goosebumps. “You’ll think I’m a liar, but it was love at first sight. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—and I’ve attended six balls where dozens of women were hoping to be chosen to marry.” He rolled his eyes. “Not one of them compare to the vision before me.”
“Yet you show up late to our engagement party?” You scoffed and brushed his hand away with a smirk. “Unbelievable.”
“I wanted to look my best!” He pointed to one of the medals on his sash. “It broke and I had it fixed. I didn’t realize doing so would put us behind schedule.” He took your hands in his and brushed a kiss across your knuckles. “If I’m ever given the chance to do it over, I’m tossing it out the nearest window. Not worth disappointing you, ever.”
“For the record, I was not disappointed. I was actually relieved. Thought you’d get cold feet and run away with one of your maids.”
“Never. You’ll always be my first and only choice. Headstrong, proactive, and musically inclined? Sign me up!” His smile melted the rest of the ice encasing your heart. He was a dork, but he’d be your dork. Ugh. He was already rubbing off on you. A giggle bubbled up and came out before you could pull yourself together. Your laughter proved to be contagious as Yugyeom joined you. By the time you stopped you both were wiping tears from your cheeks.
“I want to say I hate that I’m having more fun out here alone with you but I pride myself on being painfully honest.” You looked up at him and he gently took your hands. “I’ve changed my mind. I won’t run away…provided you stay true to all that you said before.”
“I’ll include it in my wedding vows.” His face was serious.
“You’re writing vows, too?!” You groaned. “That’s it. I’m dreaming. None of this is real. You’re too good to real. I’m gonna wake up at my desk with a book imprinted on my cheek.”
His fingertips delicately guided your attention back to him. “I thought the same of you at first.” He turned his hand so that his thumb caressed your cheek. “It seemed impossible such a woman could exist, much less be my intended. Yet here we are, living what’s been the best night of my life so far. I pray you’ll grace me with the honor of calling you my love. I look forward to getting to know you, to getting you to fall in love with me, and building a life together that our kingdom will celebrate.”
SUMMARY: You’ve suffered your entire life after a single magical accident when you were thirteen. Joshua has been your biggest comfort and anchor, but he also becomes your deepest regret.
WC: 18,176
AU: Magic/Witches, Modern Fantasy
GENRE: Friends to Lovers, Doomed Lovers, Heavy Angst, Smut
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
WARNINGS: Death and implied accidental murder of a sibling, childhood trauma, creepy vibes, heavy angst, a lot of internal monologue featuring angst, physical and verbal abuse from members of the town toward reader, Joshua and other members sometimes try to solve things on behalf of reader and she finds it frustrating (this is discussed), explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, not explicit dom/sub dynamics at all but Joshua is definitely in charge, subspace/blacking out post sex, heavy angst ending - reader and Joshua are some vengeful bitches - I would say this is probably an unhappy ending in a sense of the problem isn’t resolved (that we know of) and the ending is a bit ambiguous.
A/N: This was a fic I originally had on my BTS blog (of the same name), but I have edited for Joshua because idk he just fit the vibes. I assure you, I did more than just flip names in this. I sat down and edited this quite a bit - you’ll be able to tell the parts that are like.. My old style of writing vs. where you see new stuff because my tone/cadencs are totally different, but hopefully it works :)
MASTERLIST | ASK | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ▷NOW PLAYING: HAUNTING BY HALSEY
JOSHUA IS GOOD AT HOLDING GRUDGES. Even as a child, his mother always said he had a tough time letting things go. He never knew how right she would be. His mother’s words are all he can think about as he storms through the dark of the forest, shadows whispering about him as he looks for the lone hut in the very dark of the woods.
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
If his parents could see him now, he knows they would be broken. Tear-streaked and shaking, a lost boy alone in the woods and drowning in anger so hot that the ground scorches beneath his feet. Looking for a salve. Looking for vengeance.
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
Blood witches are dangerous. Joshua knows this, everyone knows this. A blood witch is the reason why his parents are dead and he is storming through the darkness in the throes of madness. But Joshua is only thirteen and full of pain and desperation, vowing to never let something happen like this again. If he has to use a devil to defeat a devil, he will.
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
A dark stream wends its way through the trees. Joshua gets a running start and jumps across the whispering waters. When he lands on the other side, he waits. It took a lot of searching to find someone to tell him how to find the witch in the woods. No one comes here, especially not in the dead of night on Beltane.
They say only evil comes from the little hut in the woods. Joshua knows now that it isn’t true. Evil comes from anywhere and everywhere, even from the people that one least expects. Evil killed his parents. Evil is why he is alone, crying on the edge of the stream, waiting for the sound of a banshee's call.
He hears it then. A one-note wail, thin and high-pitched. His blood goes cold and the fight in him nearly goes out at the sound. His heart begins to pound so loud that it’s all he can hear, the thundering beat of panic and terror as he realizes what he’s about to do.
“Little hut, little hut,” a voice that he cannot see calls to him. There is no hut that Joshua can see. Only omnipresent darkness, cloying the air in front of him. A tingle skitters over his arms and he becomes acutely aware of another presence there with him in the dark. “I call to thee. Little hut, little hut, come to me.”
Joshua blinks rapidly a few times and sees the outline of a hut in front of him. It has a blurry shape like it’s really the idea of a house. It’s so shadowed and opaque that he’s not entirely sure if it’s really there. He walks toward it anyway, one foot in front of the other, looking at the hut.
If a home could be a phantom, he thinks this is what the hut is. There is a vibrational pull here, a dull buzz in his veins as he gets closer and closer to where the blood witch lives. His stomach turns and his instincts beg him to leave. There is evil in this place. He knows it. Can feel its oily presence like a poisonous slick in his veins.
A door - or rather what he imagines is a door shape - stands open in the hut. Inside is eternal darkness like Joshua has never seen before. The buzzing in his veins has become stronger, an itch he can’t scratch. A ringing in his ears.
Sometimes to beat evil, you must use evil. So Joshua steps into the house despite all the reasons he should turn around and run. Because he is alone, he is in pain, and he needs some sort of penance. Justice.
So he asks the blood witch for a favor.
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life
-
When the rock hits you right at the top of your spine, you know it isn’t an accident. All the same, you spin on your heel and look at the edge of the lake where the kids are skipping stones. They squeal and look away from you, huddled together as they giggle and look over their shoulders with frantic and excited faces.
You clench your fists and keep going. What can you do to a group of kids? Tossing children into the lake while you’re an adult seems unfair, though it certainly crosses your mind. It isn’t necessarily their fault that they were taught to have such hate in their hearts at a young age, after all.
So, you keep going, grinding your teeth as you march up the slope toward the main pathway that cuts through the park, gravel crunching beneath your feet as you quicken your strides to put distance between you and the cackling children. You’re not positive they won’t throw another rock at you, and you think that it might send you over the edge.
Early preparation for the Beltane festival is in full swing all over the park. There are trucks unloading carts and piecing together stalls, vendors and contractors with clipboards walking through spray painted grass with city officials, and a giant maypole waiting to be constructed.
Living in a town of witchy folk can be fun, you suppose. The only downside is that most of the witches in your town despise you and think you’re an abhorrent blight to the earth. If killing and sacrifices hadn’t been outdated and frowned upon, you’re sure they would have stuck you to an altar as a child the first time you showed signs of being a leech.
Leech.
It’s an unkind thing to call witches who siphon magic. It isn’t something you can control - it isn’t even something you were born with. Most witches who siphon magic are born that way. A sort of magical defect in the way they interact naturally with the world.
Most think of siphoners as a plague to the witch community. Thieves and monsters who can only feed on magic to make magic, a perversion of the natural balance of things. The way you look at it, witches who siphoned aren’t really any different from the natural order of the world. All living things need an energy source: food for animals, sun for plants, bacteria for amoebas. It isn’t different, really.
Perhaps you would not be so kind to leeches, though, had you not began your existence as a siphoner at thirteen years old.
It isn’t a night that you enjoy remembering, but it is certainly a night you can’t seem to forget. One moment you could command your magic like most other witches. Most, because you were a blood witch with raw talent and a powerful relationship with the earth’s energy.
Blood witches were as revered as they were feared, witches who needed no spells. Who could use the magic within them instead of their connection with the earth to conjure. To blood witches, all other witches were leeches, really. You didn’t tell that to your coven, though you thought about the irony often.
Your blood magic had vanished, though. It happened while you lay asleep in your bed, pressed up against your twin sister. Twins were a special thing in covens, a rarity in the magical order of the world that was seen as a good omen. There was a connection you shared with her deeper than the connection to your own magic, a bond that rooted the two of you together. That made you seek one another out for comfort.
It had been storming that night and you had sought out the warmth of her bed and the vanilla sugar of her hair to soothe your nerves. You didn’t like storms and thunder very much, but she was wide awake in her bed, watching out the window as purple lighting cracked across the sky and thunder shook the house.
You’d slipped into her bed without a word and she stood guardian over you, hand tucked in yours as she watched the sky light up. You remember her laying down next to you after the storm passed. The warmth of her breath on your cheek as she fell asleep. The hum between the two of you, soul recognizing soul.
She’d been dead by morning, magic siphoned and drained dry in the middle of the night.
The memory of it is metallic in your mouth. You head toward your apartment, hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans, head down. Beltane always makes you think of your sister. Makes you think of the morning you woke up on your thirteenth Beltane to find her cold and dead, magical signature gone. Severed. Torn away from you.
Losing your ability to generate magic was only second to losing your sister. You still feel adrift fifteen years later. Moving through the world with a piece of you missing. Two pieces of you, if you count the fact that you can feel the magic around you but not reach for it. You never reach for it, though you suspect that no one believes you.
Except maybe Joshua. But even he doesn’t know the story of how you became what you are. All he knows is that you can’t create your own magic, and yet he’s never shamed you for it. Never turned his back on you, or berated you or bullied you.
That sort of kindness is a rarity in your world.
Your small town is easy to navigate. There’s not much that happens that doesn’t immediately become the knowledge of all citizens, and there’s not really a way to get lost unless you’re a tourist coming to visit the country's spookiest and most magical town. The locals are pretty firm believers in magic, but the out of towners don’t really believe. They just want camp and kitsch.
It’s busy season, the streets filled with people buying decorations to celebrate Beltane, restaurants full of tourists trying out local fare between going shop to shop. The festivals always draw a big crowd to your corner of the world, making it easier for you to blend in with all the rest of them. It almost makes you feel normal when someone doesn’t recognize you and immediately scowls. Sometimes you can even get away with eating at places that wouldn’t normally serve you, the workers too busy to really look at your face and see you.
A few people have taken pity on you outside of Joshua. Seungcheol and Jeonghan would never turn you away, always welcoming you with open arms, a warm cup of tea and free books for as long as you like at their bookstore. You’re not technically allowed in the metaphysical store on Fourth, but as long as Jihoon is working, you can walk through the rows and rows of crystals, grimoires, spices and charms. Joshua is where you’re really home, though, his bakery a place of safety and fresh-smelling sugar cookies.
It’s where you go now, sticking to the shop windows and away from the tourists flowing all over Main Street like ants. There’s a line stretched out the door when you get to Wicked Sweet Bakery, and Chan looks helpless behind the counter as he nods while taking an order, wide-eyed and terrified.
Joshua is at the delivery counter, flour staining his cheeks and brows as he nods politely and hands a box of cupcakes over to his customer. As though he can sense you, he lifts his head and swivels, eyes scanning until they land on you, immediately shining. Your stomach leaps the way it often does around him, especially when he breaks out into a beautiful smile and jerks his thumb at an apron.
You roll your eyes. You’re not technically an employee at the bakery, but you’re the next best thing, grabbing an apron from the rack to attempt to help the stressed out witches behind the counter.
“Can you take over the order counter?” he asks, the blush on his face the only sign that he’s getting a little frazzled. You nod and he winks at you, leaning over to press a quick, chaste kiss on your cheek. “You’re an angel.”
“Mhmm,” is the only response you manage before he’s leaning over Chan’s shoulder to correct something on the register.
There’s a smooth cadence to helping around the store. You fall into a pattern, calling out order numbers and passing over boxes of charmed sweets. The customers don’t know they’re charmed - at least not the people outside the magical community. They come here for the famous rose scones that inspire love and the lemon tarts that generate good luck, but they don’t realize how much of himself Joshua really pours into these sweets, magic and all.
Being here is nice. Chan grins when he sees you behind the counter, happy for the help. He still gets overwhelmed behind the till, and he’s more than happy to step back and chew his lip nervously when he processes a discount wrong. You’re up next to him before he can ask for help, typing on the screen while gently walking him through it again.
Chan is a good kid, an elemental witch who is prone to cause rainstorms when he gets stressed. For now, he is a bottle of sunshine, thanking you shyly and letting you know that he saved you a bag of butterscotch cookies in the back.
“I put in a little extra sunshine,” he promises. By that, you know that he means magic. To give you. You open your mouth to scold him but he shakes his head furiously. “I wanted to do it. You can’t yell at me. I’m your favorite.”
That gets you. It’s hard to be mad at him, especially when anger is likely to set him off into a rainstorm. Chan gives you a wicked smile, his little ego sharp and wicked under his sweet surface. You let him off with an eye roll and a squeeze of his wrist, making him beam.
This is what keeps you going most days. The unfettered kindness that Joshua and his friends show you. None of them are locals to town, but they had formed their own coven a little at a time, a circle under the broad umbrella of the town's overall witch population.
Covens are difficult. You’re both in and not in Joshua’s coven, an unofficial member by friendship. But you don’t practice anymore - won’t let yourself - so you’re on the outside looking in most weekends and during spiritual times of the year.
But by witch standard, you are a part of the covenstead of the town, the larger collective of witches who are loyal and responsible for one another, all answering to the high priestess.
When the rush of customers and shouting orders over the glass dies down, you lean against the counter and reach a hand out just as the door to the back swings open. Joshua has a glass bottle of soda ready for you, and he blinks in surprise when he sees your hand ready for it. You’re a little surprised as well.
“It’s freaky when the two of you do that,” Chan comments, eyes bouncing between you and Joshua as the older hands you the bottle. “You’re always so in-tune.”
“She’s a witch,” Joshua snorts, leaning against the glass case of mostly empty dishes as he takes a swig of his own. “Divination and all that is sort of what we do.”
“Yeah, but it only happens with you.”
You don’t meet Joshua’s eyes as you swig from the bottle, the carbonation fizzing on your tongue. “I know you’re jealous, Chan,” is Joshua’s answer. Always deflecting. You're grateful for the way he rolls with the punches, easily accepting the way others talk about you two as an item so you don’t have to. “Are you hoping those butterscotch cookies win her over?”
Thunder cracks in the sky as Chan goes red in the voice, launching into an argument with Joshua who starts laughing like a maniac.
When it’s time to close down the shop, you help the two of them out. Joshua goes to the back to begin batching things anew: fondant, bread, frosting - anything that he can let sit overnight or prep while the lights are out and he’s gone home. You focus on cleaning with Chan, letting him put on a pop playlist while he sings along, siren voice lulling you into a steady rhythm.
Part of you wants to ask what they’re doing for Beltane. Celebrating the holidays used to be your favorite, threading flowers through your hair, blessing your hearth and home, weaving new spells of prosperity and happiness alongside your sister. Now you don’t participate in any of the rituals with the others.
Most of the time, you celebrate alone in your room. Mark the points of the elements and the compass on your bedroom floor alone. Sit in front of a single candle, watching the flame flicker as you draw your circle of salt, murmuring blessings. It isn’t a powerful place of practice and you have no alter to communicate through, but it's something. It’s yours.
Instead of asking, you follow Joshua and Chan out of the door on the promise of dinner. This is the one thing that does feel like a ritual you’re allowed to participate in, holding chapel at Joshua’s dining room table and elbowing with Soonyoung or Mingyu for scraps of food piled high in the center of the table.
Evening sky stretches overhead as you walk between Joshua and Chan. You cast your eyes upward, watching the gray clouds float by. Joshua throws an arm around you, pulling you in close and squeezing you to his side. He smells like vanilla and sweet orange from making his tangerina vanilla cakes for Seungkwan. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash through you like a balm.
His arm presses a little too hard on the bruise where the rock from earlier nailed you, and you hiss, reaching behind your head automatically to adjust his hold on you.
“What?” he asks, lifting his arm and slowing his gait. Joshua’s face is picture-perfect concern, mouth tilted downward, a crease in his brows. Before you can explain, his hands are pulling at the collar of your shirt. “You’ve got a welt here, what the hell is that?”
You smack at his hands and step away from him, pulling his warm fingers from your shirt. “It’s nothing.”
“Whenever you say ‘it’s nothing’ it's always something. Why do you have a lump on the top of your spine?”
Dancing away from him, you grab Chan who grunts, mouth full of corn chips as you shove him between you and Joshua. More unhappy noises come from the youngest as Joshua grabs for you but you squeak and use Chan’s broad body to block him again.
“Yah!” Joshua yells, reaching both arms around either side of Chan to grab you. He manages to get one of your arms, pulling you toward him - and by default, Chan - and keeps a firm grip while you swat and fight back.
“Aish!” Chan howls between the two of you, adding to the chaos as he shoves both of you away from him. “Stop using me as a battering ram! I’m going to drop my chips! Guys!”
“Tell me why you have a wound!”
“It isn’t a wound!”
“It’s a type of wound!”
“Ugh let my arm go, hulk! What are you doing at the gym? Juicing? Jesus Christ!”
“Stop hissing at me like a rat! Are you trying to bite me?”
Chan drops his bag of chips and lets out a long, forlorn wail. “My chiiiiiiiiips!”
After a struggle, you manage to shake Joshua off of you, taking a few steps back as you huff angrily, fists at your side. Joshua sidesteps Chan who is pouting and looking at the ground, blonde bangs falling in his eyes as he stares at the spilled corn chips. Joshua makes it worse by stepping on them with a crunch, earning a shriek from Chan that goes ignored.
“Did someone hurt you?”
A rumble rolls through the sky from up above. You cast your gaze upward, looking at the clouds that are a little more swollen than they were a few minutes ago. You can sense the static in the air, a promise of lightning if you don’t diffuse Joshua’s anger quickly.
Similar to Chan, Joshua is sensitive to the elements. Where Chan has an affinity for the sky and the rain, Joshua has a lot more skill with fire. Still, Joshua is a powerful witch and his rage on more than one occasion has disturbed the sky and the lake in the middle of town.
It’s partly the reason he works so hard on never getting angry.
“It’s nothing, Joshua,” you answer softly, eyes pleading. You desperately want him to drop it. Part of you is honored that he cares, but the other half of you can’t bear the way he looks at you. “Please drop it.”
“Someone hurt you. Again.”
Thunder echoes across the sky. Chan looks upward. “That isn’t me, even though I am mad about my chips. And about being oggled at by Mrs. Hansen again, she really wants my goodies.”
“Shua, it isn’t a big deal. Please.” You glance upward, thunder rolling again. “You’re going to make it rain.”
“I’ll make it do more than rain when I find out who did it.”
“They were just kids, Shua. You can’t-”
He swears loudly and there’s a flash of lightning above your head. It makes you think of that night with your sister, laying in bed to let the storm pass. You clap your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut, automatically crouching to make yourself small.
Behind your shut eyes, you try not to let the memories come. Try not to imagine the vanilla scent of her hair, warm hands on your skin turned cold the next morning. You block out the screams, the way your mother shoved you away and your father yelled and yelled and yelled and-
Above, the thunder stops. Rain doesn’t fall, and the air pressure returns to normal. Shivering, you crack an eye open to look at Joshua, terrified at what you might find. His anger is so rare, but every time you witness it, it’s like watching a sudden storm bloom on the horizon, all terrible wind and teeth, but beautiful in its power.
Chan is murmuring in Joshua’s ear now, voice hushed and urgent. Joshua’s eyes become unfocused as he nods, Chan’s hands grasping the older’s biceps firmly. When Joshua’s eyes find yours over Chan’s shoulder, they’re fathomless. Endless pools of warm brown, and something else that you can’t decipher as he murmurs something back to Chan, who steps away.
Licking his lips, Joshua offers you a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.”
You swallow thickly. Reach out a tentative hand. “It’s okay.”
“You know I would never hurt you?”
Of course you know that. You aren’t afraid of Joshua or the power he holds. You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You are afraid of the memories that nip at your heels like a pack of jackals. You are afraid that one day he’ll decide you’re not enough. You are afraid of the way that it makes you feel when he’s this close, his voice pitched low, soft eyes only for you.
“I know that,” you murmur, letting him pull you toward him. “It’s just the thunder, that's all.”
His smile is soft. “I know, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand. It’s a perfect fit, your palm in his. His skin buzzes with magic. You pull your hand from his quickly, not trusting yourself to touch him. You’ll never make that mistake again - especially with him. “Let’s go home, yeah?”
-
Home isn’t the small apartment on the west side of town that you keep by yourself. Home is Joshua’s two-story house in the suburbs made of brick and mortar. It’s the crowded dining room packed tight with chairs pulled close to the wooden table and a chandelier full of burner candles and incense. It’s Joshua’s cat familiar running yowling down the corridor as Jihoon’s maine coon chases it, hissing.
Home is the handful of witches who don’t care that you can’t generate your own magic, all of them laughing and pushing empty plates toward the middle of the table where Seungcheol collects them with a snap of his fingers, the cutlery lifting and stacking neatly with the soft click of ceramic.
Bloated and overly-satiated, you lean back in your chair, sighing heavily. Jihoon is next to you, quiet and staring off into space the way that he often does. Next to him, Jeonghan and Seungcheol have their heads bowed together whispering, a blush flushing across Seungcheol’s wine-glazed expression and tops of his ears.
Seungcheol and Jeonghan strike something in you. A longing that tugs at your heart strings, drawing your gaze to the man sitting on the other side of you. Joshua is leaning back in his chair, arm stretched over the back of your seat as he yawns mid-conversation with Junhui.
Joshua is barely touching you, but just the warmth of his arm is enough to make you dizzy. It’s barely there, just against the top of your back. You lean into him a little, resting your head on top of his arm. He maneuvers his hand to scratch the top of your head lightly. It feels so nice that your eyes flutter shut, letting him play with your hair as the noise in the room drifts to a dull buzz.
In another life, you think that this touch could be something more. Sometimes, you let yourself wonder if it is. Let yourself pretend that maybe Joshua’s lingering gaze and hand is more than the platonic affection he has for you.
It’s a silly dream.
When the dishes are washed and the others have said their goodbyes, it’s just you and Joshua leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He has a glass of wine, sipping it thoughtfully as you put the cork back in the wine bottle. When you meet his gaze, you see something there. Hesitance. Anxiety.
Joshua chews on his lips and swishes the wine in his glass. The red liquid arches elegantly along the sides of the glass, slowly dripping back down to pool in his cup. You remember once at a winery you could measure the legs or something when swishing wine in a glass. Joshua had taken you to that winery because he wanted to research wine making in general, considering creating and packing his own. He eventually tossed the idea out, wanting to focus on expanding his sweets menu instead.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, taking a sip out of your own cup. It’s a strong mulled wine with notes of cherry, you think. “You look nervous.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Your heart beats hard once. Then twice. Speeds up. Instead of answering right away, you take another sip, mind running through all of the things you think he might say. Maybe this is it, he’s going to tell you that you can’t come around as much. That though you’re his best friend, you have to stay away from his coven.
Instead, Joshua says, “You know I’ve looked into your situation.” You wince when he says it but he pushes forward, leaning off the counter as he grows eager. “You said you weren’t always a siphon, that you could control your own magic as a child. I’ve been researching similar cases, and there is a lot of evidence that supports that it might be a magical block.”
“Joshua.”
“Look, there’s nothing wrong with you. Never has been. There is nothing to fix. But I know you don’t share that same opinion, and I know that if you could change things, you would.” His jaw flexes. “And I care about your happiness. I just… Jihoon and I have been reading up on rituals to release magical blocks, and with Beltane in a few days, we thought…”
Warmth bubbles in your chest. You know how much this means to him, trying to help you. To free you from the burden that you carry with you wherever you go. This is not the first time he has brought up trying to figure out your ailment. Your situation. And though you’re glad he cares about you enough to try, there is something humiliating about it.
“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Joshua murmurs. You look up at him and his gaze is soft. Vulnerable. “But if you want us to try, we discussed it. And our circle is strong enough to try it on Beltane.”
Licking your lips, you nod once. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“I’m always thinking of you.” You give him a look and he smiles, a little sad. “What? I am.”
“Stop trying to be charming. I’ll only say yes if I want to.”
“I have no doubt about that. However, it is impossible for me to stop my charm. It is a natural gift. I am, afterall, a gentleman.”
You roll your eyes. “A gentleman who lacks humility.”
“Ah, but my hubris seems so small whenever Seungcheol is around.”
You don’t push the argument. Joshua grins again before opening a drawer in his kitchen, pulling out a small, cloth bag. There’s a green ribbon tying the top of it shut, and you smell the herbs inside of it immediately: cedar, bay leaves, mugwort.
Joshua holds the bag out to you and you frown, taking it. It’s weighted with crystals. You squeeze the bag a little, feeling the crunch of crystal fragments and herbs. There is a vibration that travels from your fingers up your arms and you feel a sense of solid warmth.
“A protection bag,” you deadpan. “Really?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t need this.”
“The welt on your neck says otherwise.”
“Please stop!” Your voice is loud in the empty kitchen. He pulls up short, leaning against the counter and watching you with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. You sigh deeply and close your eyes for a moment, calming yourself before you open them and say, “I don’t mean to yell, it’s just - it’s hard when I feel like all of you coddle me. It’s humiliating.”
“It wasn’t my intention. I’d never want to make you feel that way.”
“I know.”
You do know. The intentions are good, but you can’t help the raw, venomous edge of frustration. It makes you feel less than, this constant need to help you. To do things for you.
“I am a fully functioning adult who is capable of taking care of myself, despite being a thorn in the covenstead’s side.”
“You know that isn’t how we think of you.”
You give a frustrated noise. “Then please. Let me ask for help when I need it, and not just when you feel the desire to give it to me.”
Joshua is quick to catch the protection bag when you toss it back to him. He nods silently, eyes fixated on the floor. It feels like a hot stone has been dropped in your stomach, burning and weighing you down. How quickly a good dinner has turned sour, how the light air between the two of you has gone cold.
“Thank you for dinner. And for looking into a way out of this,” you gesture wildly to yourself. He nods, but there’s no mirth in his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah of course. Let me know about… you know.”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
That night, you have trouble sleeping, just like that night when you were thirteen years old.
-
The back door to Shadow Metaphysical opens, creaking as Jihoon sticks his head out of his office. His long hair is styled behind his ears and he’s in a soft-looking black sweater and jeans. He gives a visible sigh of relief when he sees it’s you and not one of his shithead coven mates coming to bother him for free stuff.
“Hey,” he greets, exiting the office. His familiar, Nami, shoots between his legs and toward the front of the store.
Jihoon leads you through the door to the main storefront. It’s closed for the evening and he has receipts and cash laid out on the counter as he balances his drawer for the day. Rows and rows of dark shelving littered with candles and wax light the way here. There’s no traditional lighting, floating candles up in the ceiling and random balls of light appearing every once in a while.
When you asked Jihoon how the non-magical customers didn’t think the magic was real, he simply said, That Harry Potter lady did me a solid. They all think it’s some sort of intricate system.
Shadow Metaphysical is one of your favorite places. It smells different each time you go in, the magic and the herbs and the spells inside of its four walls shifting with the energy of its employees and customers at all times. Today, it smells like night rain and crackling lightning.
Wordlessly, Jihoon gestures at the shelving, signaling to do whatever you need. He busies himself with going back to counting bills, head down and trusting you not to steal anything like everyone else in his coven. Not that he would care, as he’s always emphasized he has no problem not taking your money.
Still, you always pay him, especially since he lets you in after hours where no one can yell at you for being inside. The covenstead has barred magical stores from siphoners, convinced that the moment they cross the threshold, they’ll consume the entire store like gluttonous demons.
It isn’t true. Well. Not really, anyway. You feel the magic in the store throbbing like a wound in your side, begging you to reach out and touch it, to pull it in, to use, to burn it. You ignore it. You’re not here to eat magic like a parasite.
As you pass rows and rows of books on rituals, you think about Joshua’s offer to help you figure out your block. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried and failed to figure out what happened. With magic, the point of origin is always the key to any spell. The how and the where of your condition are important elements to figuring out the solution, but no one really knows the how and the where.
Your friends don’t have full clarity on that night. You’ve never told them in explicit detail of how you woke up, full of your sister’s magic. You’re sure they know, though. Everyone has whispered about the way you killed your sister in her sleep. A little murderer. You’d only escaped persecution for being a child, and because up until that fateful night, you’d never been a siphoner.
It helped that your family had been respected.
You pass a grimoire. The runes on it shine gold when you pause, winking at you, begging you to touch it. You feel the whisper of the spells of dozens of witches inside of it, their phantom fingers brushing down your arms. Your spine. They call to you, sing to you, press kisses that promise power on your brow, their fingers turning to claws and-
“Stop,” you growl out loud. The grimoire stops calling to you immediately, silenced by the violence in your voice.
Shaking off the encounter, you grab what you need from the shelves, ignoring the way other magical objects feel like they're looking at you, wanting to be picked up, to be touched, to be used. You shove away all acknowledgement of them, arms full of materials.
At the register, Jihoon gives you a wary look as you set things down on the counter. He takes his time scanning them, glancing at you occasionally. You can sense he wants to ask a question, dark eyes lingering a few times. That’s the thing about Jihoon, though. He’ll never ask, he’ll just wait until you give up.
Which you do, sighing and saying, “Ask.”
His lips twitch as he bags a few jars of thorns. “How often do the books in here talk to you?” You level a stare at him and he rolls his eyes. “I can hear you. I just pretend not to be nice. Plus, I have a magical tie to this shop, I can feel the energy shift. Everytime you’re here, it’s like suddenly the entire store has it’s eyes on you.”
“Great,” you growl. “Yes, it happens often. I don’t know if it’s a siphoner thing or a me thing. Most magic begs me to use it, but magical objects are worse. They’re borderline sentient.” You chew your lip and rub your sweaty palms on your jeans. “It’s worse around the sabbat holidays.”
“Stronger magic.”
“Yeah.”
“Did Joshua explain what ritual we talked about?” You shake your head. He pushes over a paper bag filled with all your things and you hand over your card. He doesn’t take it until you give him a pointed stare. Plucking it from your fingers, he sighs and says, “Two smaller rituals wrapped into one. Seungcheol found a really old binding ritual that was used to form a bridge between multiple rituals.”
“A chain spell,” you offer. “Impressive. I guess that would be used for improving upon old rituals?”
“Yeah, exactly that. Joshua had been doing some research on magical blocks, and found one that determines whether the point of origin is internal or external.”
“External?” He nods. “Like a curse?”
“Yes. Any reason anyone would want to curse a thirteen-year-old?”
Jihoon phrases it like a joke and chuckles. But you don’t laugh, stilling as you think about his question. Your immediate answer is no, at thirteen there was certainly nothing you could have done to be cursed. But you think about your parents, thinking about the fear revolving around their gifts for blood magic, think about the way they were always regarded with equal parts fear and reverence as coven leaders.
Curses aren’t common. It would take a coven of extremely skilled witches to curse someone, but it could take a single very skilled blood witch to perform one. Hexes aren’t long-term and are far more manageable, but you think about the way your power vanished, the way you bled your sister dry.
The misery you’ve faced since, the loss of your parents shortly after, the hatred from the covenstead.
“Holy shit, you don’t think you’re cursed, do you?” Jihoon’s question brings you out of your daze. All of the amusement has been wiped clean from his expression, eyes deadly serious. “Who would curse a child? And how? A hex is easy enough to manage, but a full on curse?”
“People were really afraid of my parents,” you murmur. “My mom used to lead the covenstead here, you know?” That surprises him and you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I forget you’re not from here, but yeah. My family led the covenstead until… well. All that happened.”
“I never knew that. No one talks about it.”
There is a question there. Jihoon won’t say it outright, but you sense the curiosity nonetheless. You feel your throat constrict a little as you murmur, “My parents killed themselves when my sister died. No one talks about it because… wel, would you?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
“Your parents have any enemies prior to that?”
“There was…” You think back to the time when you were thirteen. Those days are painted so painfully when you think about them that it is hard to remember anything else. “My parents were involved in the Trials that were going on at that time. Hunting Dissenters.”
Jihoon’s face darkens. “I see.”
“They had a lot of enemies. So maybe… I don’t know.”
For a few moments, Jihoon doesn’t say anything. He busies himself with packing away the rest of the till and waving his hand, dousing all the lights in the store with ease. There’s a little pang as he does it, such simple magic that costs him nothing. That you have no access to.
“Well,” Jihoon sighs, a little awkwardly. “Think about it. If - and it’s unlikely - that someone cursed you, you’ll know if we go through with the ritual.” He pauses and levels you with a look. “It is dangerous though. So consider the risk before you agree, hmm?”
You nod and thank him. He leads you out of the store and gives you an awkward smile goodbye. Never affectionate, but always polite and warm nonetheless.
Sunset-purple skies stretch above you. It smells like fresh rain and earth outside. Town is quieter now that the evening crowd has finished dinner and gone home or back to their accommodations for the evening. You pass places with patio seating and small diners tucked between stores, wary eyes of the workers following you as you walk down the sidewalk.
No one says good evening. Some don’t look at you at all.
Curse.
The word weighs heavy on you. You’d never considered that your condition could be from a curse before, but now that you think about it, you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind.
The Trials had been a scary time for witches, Dissenters leaving covensteads to start their own, dark and forbidden spellwork becoming more and more popular among covens. Your parents - especially your mother - had been a huge part of cleansing the covenstead from witches who practiced dark magic.
Especially the few blood witches.
You had been a blood witch, though. Like your sister, like your mother. People had always been wary of them, which is why your mother worked so hard to get rid of the Dissenters when she was the head priestess.
They give us a bad name, she would say darkly when you and your sister asked why she was getting rid of witches like you. Like her. In times like this, we have to work extra hard to prove we aren’t evil.
Jihoon’s words weigh heavy on you as you sit in your apartment alone. You don’t bother to put the TV on, knowing that you won’t be able to pay attention to anything. Magic always comes at a price, and two rituals wrapped into one is going to take a toll.
And yet, you think about getting to the bottom of this sickness, this curse. This inability to do anything but steal magic, to leech off of others. You think about how your magic used to feel, the way you could command fire with a snap of your fingers or make stars fall from your bedroom ceiling.
An ache settles in your chest as you lay back on the couch and close your eyes, throat tight and eyes burning. You have been without magic for so long. Part of you thinks what's a little longer? But deep down, you crave it. The spark, the life, the touch of magic.
You want to be able to enter stores without the itch underneath your skin, an addiction you can’t cure nor divulge in. You want to be able to be a part of a community again, to do rituals with Jihoon and Chan and Joshua. You want to be able to help him in his bakery, imbuing his scones and cupcakes with love and a little spark of something extra.
Tears flow hot on your face. You know what you want, and you know that it’s going to cost you to get it. You know that to do this, you’ll have to be open and honest, because there are only two possible options for your magic block: you are cursed or you have a mental block.
It’s hard to know if being cursed as a result of your parents’ policing is worse than potentially having an internal block, an innate refusal to do magic because of what you did.
That night sits at the back of your mind like a stone, sinking sinking sinking. Pulling you under as you think about it in explicit detail. Maybe you simply killed your twin. A horrible accident, but perhaps it was just you. Your magic. Your fault.
And your magic had fled because of it, a self-inflicted punishment.
Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you have the phone in your hand, sniffing and wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Your face feels swollen and sticky with tears and overwarm and it’s hard to get a breath as you press the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.
Joshua picks up on the fourth ring, his voice cheery. “What, did Jihoon forget to let you in the store?”
“No.”
“I’m coming now,” Joshua says, completely forgoing humor when he hears you sniff, hears the waver in your voice. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Did anyone hurt you?”
“No,” you hiccup. “I’m just really sad and I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’ll be there in ten. Do you want to stay on the phone?” You shake your head and let out a little sob. Something about knowing he’s coming over to be with you cracks your resolve a little more. You realize he can’t see you when he prompts, “Hey, you there?”
“Sorry, no. Drive safely, please.”
“For you? Anything.”
Despite your tears, your mouth wobbles into a weak smile at that. It makes your heart squeeze just a little, underneath all the hurt.
It doesn’t take him long to let himself in the apartment. You can sense him before he even gets to the stairs leading up to your unit, his crackling energy like a beacon to you. When he opens the door with the key you gave him, he fills the space with static, magic snapping and tinged with worry.
Magic always belies how Joshua feels. Like now, as he rushes across the apartment, he is lightning, all energy and anxiety popping and snapping as he sits on the couch next to you, pulling you into his chest.
Joshua is warm and smells like vanilla and sweet orange from the bakery. It’s soothing. You close your eyes and clutch the hem of his shirt, resolve cracking the rest of the way as he becomes your anchor as you drift out to sea, holding you so that you can be lost in the overwhelming feeling of loss without getting too far.
He doesn’t tell you not to cry. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Joshua leans back on the couch, pulling you into his lap, folding your knees so that he can hold you. One hand rubs your back and he rests his chin on the top of your head, letting you use the crook of his neck as a place to hide - and turn into a waterfall for your tears.
This is what you love about Joshua though. He doesn’t pry. He just lets you use him, lets you cry it out and he waits.
When the tears begin to dry and you find it easier to breathe again, you shift away from Joshua and wipe your face. He smiles down at you, eyes glittering and expression so fond that you find yourself staring blankly into his face.
“I’m sorry,” you sniff. “And thank you for coming.”
“Anything for you.” You hate the way it makes your heart flip when he says that. You start to pull away from him to sit on the couch properly but his arms constrict you, keeping you to him. You frown but he asks, “I want to know what happened, if you’re ready to talk about it.”
Joshua is so close his breath fans your face. You look up at him. Silky, long lashes that you could individually count with your proximity, beautiful tan and smooth skin with a glow all witches have, pretty lips that are always the perfect shade of pink, curved upward in a permanent smile at the edges.
Your heart starts to speed up and your mouth dries out with the way he looks at you, intense and searching. Suddenly you’re afraid if he looks too hard, he’ll see down to your core.
“I- yeah. I need some water,” you croak, pulling away. He lets you go this time, unaware that what you really need is space between the two of you, a barrier so he can’t see. So he won’t know. “Turns out sobbing makes you thirsty.”
Before you can get all the way to the kitchen, there’s a soft clink accompanied by a full glass of water on your counter. You glare at Joshua over your shoulder and he winces and shrugs in apology.
As you gulp down mouthfuls of cool water, you wonder how to word exactly what you’re upset about. How you’re tired of existing in the world without your magic but you’re also unsure if you want to know the truth about why your magic left you.
Joshua is iffy on the details about the night your sister died. He’s never asked you explicitly for the story before, but if you want to go through with finding out the root cause of your block, you know you’ll be exposed. To him. To all of them. To his coven.
The desire to be one of them is so strong that it makes your knees weak as you walk toward the couch. You sit abruptly on the couch arm, staring into the distance as you drink the rest of the water. You want to join them so much, to celebrate the sabbat holidays, to feel the rush of a closed circle of magic and yet…
Would they accept you if they knew you killed your sister? You’re not so sure.
You look at Joshua. He waits patiently, watching you with soft eyes. Moonlight seeps in through the blinds behind him, wreathing him in silver light. He looks like a god, then. Of shadows, of night, of mystery. This best friend of yours who you love so much and who has loved you indiscriminately when he didn’t have to.
“I talked to Jihoon about maybe doing the ritual,” you start slowly. Joshua nods, encouraging you. “And I think I came to the conclusion that I want to do it. I’m tired of feeling everyone’s magic pull at me, like a vice that I have to ignore every day. And I’m tired of wanting to do things I used to, to feel the world around me. But most of all, I just want to be a part of something. A part of a coven, a family.”
Understanding paints Joshua’s face. He reaches a hand out and takes yours, giving you a firm squeeze. “You know even with no magic, you’re our family, right?”
“It’s different.” He starts to protest but you shake your head. “I want to be in a coven and to feel the power of a circle. I want to celebrate and do rituals with you, I want to be a part of something magical. I can’t do that like this, not without the fear of draining everyone.”
He nods. “Of course. We’ll have you either way, you know? We’d still welcome you like this.”
“But I’d never be able to close your circle.” Joshua nods. He knows the truth of this. “But this ritual requires truth, and there’s some things about me that I’ve never talked to you about. Things about the night I… I could no longer do magic. I want you to be informed, to know what we might find if we do this.”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“A coven and a working circle requires trust and honesty. I can never be one of you if you don’t know me completely.”
He nods. “That is true.”
“I’m going to tell you about the night that my sister died.” He squeezes your hand and nods, but says nothing else. “My sister and I were twins, both blood witches. Unusual enough for our parents and the covenstead to be incredibly proud of us, but not unusual enough for people to be afraid, you know?”
“Twins… That’s incredibly powerful.”
“Yeah,” you agree, throat tight. “We were really fond of the connection too, you know? It was nice to always have someone to rely on who was my perfect balance. We were never-” You take a breath. “Neither was more powerful than the other. There was never any jealousy or overpowering the other. We were always evenly matched.”
“Whenever it would storm,” you continue. “I would go lay in her room. I hated storms but she loved them. I did this countless times up until we were thirteen. I don’t know… Shua, I don’t know what was different that night. I think back to it every single day, what did I do differently, was there an object I touched, a spell I used? And I come up with nothing. But on Beltane when we were thirteen, it was storming. We’d already finished the festival and our parents were out doing their duties and I went and I fell asleep in her room and… and I woke up…”
For a moment, you can’t get the words out. They get trapped in your throat and you stare, unseeing. You imagine the lightning against the window. The warmth of your sister's hands. The tree tap tap tapping against the window with the strength of the wind.
“I drained her in the middle of the night,” you whisper. It’s out now and you can’t stop, can’t look at Joshua’s face to see his reaction. “I went to sleep as normal and when I woke up, she was freezing and lifeless and I felt more powerful than I ever had before. Like I was this magical battery charged up and sparking.”
For a moment, you pause and look at Joshua. You expect to see horror or disgust or a variety of negative emotions, but he’s still watching you. Fond. Waiting. No judgment. When he sees you staring, he gives you a tiny smile and a squeeze of your hand.
“I’m still listening.”
“Aren’t you…” You trail off and shake your head. “I killed my sister. Are you not horrified?”
He frowns then. “You didn’t kill your sister.”
“Yes I did.”
“You weren’t born a siphoner, how could you possibly predict that would ever happen? You didn’t get in that bed with her and then leech her magic, no matter how much it must feel that way. It wasn’t your fault, though I know hearing me say that doesn’t make it feel any less true in here.” He reaches forward and taps your heart lightly. “There is nothing I can say to ease the pain and guilt of that, but what you’re describing to me isn’t the tale of a murderer. It’s the story of someone who had a freak accident, which is more common among the magical community than one might think.”
“I don’t know what happened,” you admit, a tear escaping your eye. Before you can wipe it though, Joshua’s thumb is there, swiping across your face and collecting it. You watch with wide eyes as he cups your face, looking at you with so much something that your head spins. “But in the morning, I was alive and she was dead. And my parents and everyone else hated me for it. That’s why they treat me the way they do. Why my parents were driven to grief. Why I’m alone.”
“You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
“How can anyone accept me like this?”
“Because it isn’t what defines you. We are not made up of only the things we do and the things that happen to us, and I promise you, this is something that happened to you.”
“They would never,” he’s quick to say. He’s still holding your face, wiping tears from your eyes. “And if they did, I don’t care. I’d do the ritual myself, just to prove to you that this burden you carry isn’t your fault.”
You crack a grin, despite the dark topic. “Yeah? You’d try and do a circle all alone?”
“I would walk through fire for you.”
You pull your face out of his hands and shove him a bit. “Fire is your favorite element, Joshua. That’s not impressive.”
His laughter fills the room and he tugs at your hands. You grapple with him as he tries to pull you down, your ache forgotten as you laugh and squeal. “Yah! Let me try and be poetic! It was the first thing that I could think of.”
Joshua overpowers you and pulls you down against his chest. Suddenly you’re very close again, your palms pressed against his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat vibrating through your fingers. You make a surprised sound as he looks up at you, gaze a little darker. A little hazy.
Gently, Joshua reaches up and brushes his fingers across your chin. It’s featherlight and more intimate than you expect, making you blink in surprise. You’re frozen, limbs stuck and heart racing as you watch the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Suddenly the moment feels different - this feels different.
“You have no idea what you mean to me.”
When he says it, you don’t answer at first. You think you imagine him saying it. That suddenly this has blurred into a fantasy of yours. Perhaps you’re actually asleep, soothing your pain with dreams of Joshua. Of being like this with him, pressed closed and intimate with his gaze burning.
“What?” you whisper back, unable to string together a better response.
He doesn’t seem offended though, huffing a laugh. “You really have no idea, huh? You’ve got that massive brain up there and you don’t even use it right.”
“I don’t…”
“You’re right, we should be practicing honesty. If we’re going to lift this block on you and let you join our circle, there can’t be secrets between us. As soon as you cast in a circle with me, you’ll see everything about me, and you deserve to not be caught off guard about what you see there.”
Your heart throbs. “What would I see, Joshua?”
“Someone who would not only walk through fire for you, but who would burn the world down for you. I seem so nice and kind, but beneath the surface, there is a heart capable of terrible things for those I love. And I do love you. Chaotically so. Painfully so. Dangerously so.”
“I-”
“You don’t have to love me back. I’ll never hold you to it. I just need you to know what you’ll see when we link and-”
You interrupt his rambling with a kiss. It’s brief and so quick it’s barely there. You lean away from him, heart pounding, lips parted. You’re surprised at yourself, unsure when you gained the confidence to pull a move on him.
Joshua moves faster than you can finish your sentence. He surges forward, hands skimming up your arms roughly to cup your face and pull you down to him. His mouth is like fire, consuming and warm and sparking with heat. You feel the static shift between the two of you, his magic crackling to life as he makes a noise deep in the back of his throat.
The slide of his plush mouth against yours makes you dizzy. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping slightly and you become ravenous. Your tongue brushes against his teeth and he makes a throaty sound again, opening up to let you deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping against his. He’s a slow kisser, dragging his tongue against yours and letting you fall fall fall into him.
Joshua’s hands slide from your face down your shoulders and past them, stopping only at your hips where he squeezes. Your stomach flips at the contact and you twitch a little bit, grinding down into him as his kisses go from languid to a little needier.
“Fuck,” he gasps, head tilting back. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” you ask, mouth going to his jaw. You press wet kisses there, messy lips followed by your tongue, leaving a spit-slick trail. His skin makes your tongue tingle, magic vibrating. You grind your hips down again, rewarded with a whine.
He slips his hands under the hem of your shirt and he digs his blunt nails into your hips. “You know what.”
Grinning, you bring your mouth up to his. Slowly, you lower your hips so you’re pressed flush to his, rolling them again, this time painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat at the slow-drag friction, the feeling of him shivering underneath you.
“That?” you ask, breathless against his mouth.
“Enough,” he hisses.
The world spins. Joshua grabs you and in a single, swift movement sits up and stands, carrying you with him. You squeal, hands shooting to grasp at his shoulders as he walks toward your room. He kicks his shin on the coffee table as he stumbles with you, balance off with the added weight.
He curses loudly and you can’t help but laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth when his sharp gaze snaps to yours. His eyes are dark dark, hungry and fathomless now as he raises a brow. “Yeah, you’re laughing?”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” you admit.
“You’re gonna be.”
A wild thrill shoots through you as he carries you to the bedroom. You forget how strong he is, muscles flexing as he shifts you again, careful not to drop you. It makes you feel giddy, but you squeak in a moment of terror when he drops you unceremoniously on your bed, the brief moment of freefall startling.
You land with a huff and he grins down at you as he stands up against the edge of the bed, knees squeezing your legs together as he reaches behind his neck to yank at his t-shirt. You watch, slack-jawed as he pulls the material up and over his head.
Joshua is all gold and tan planes, body perfect in the low light of your room as he tosses his shirt. You take a second to admire his broad chest, dark nipples pebbling in the cool room. Dark hair trails from his belly button and vanishes in the waist of his jeans.
Seeking warmth, you reach for him. He leans forward, pressing his palms into the mattress to hover over you, knees placed on either side of your thighs. His muscles jump when you brush your hands up the softness of his stomach toward the harder muscle of his pecs.
It feels like the sun is trapped underneath his skin, burning its way out of him as your fingers explore. You’ve never touched him like this, slow and reverant and full of unbridled desire. He watches you, drinking in the way you take him in. The way you take your time.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, looking up at him. His ears turn red and he rolls his eyes. You grin, dragging your hand up to rest over his chest where his heart thuds wildly beneath your palm. “I mean here, idiot. Yeah you’re hot too, but you’re beautiful in here.”
Unreadable emotion flits across his face. Something like joy and pain - the pain of wanting to hear that for so long, waiting for the admission. You understand the same pain of desire filled so unexpectedly that it hurts.
Joshua kisses you again and this time with intent. He shifts and slides a knee between your legs, pressing up to the apex of your thighs. You groan and lift your hands, sliding them through his hair. The strands are silky soft and long. You twist your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you as the kiss turns messy.
Whatever this is between you is more magic than you’ve felt in years. You feel breathless as he kisses across your jaw and toward your neck, sucking harshly on the soft skin underneath your ear. You whine and he chuckles, hot breath hitting your ear.
“Why don’t you do that thing you love so much, hmm?” he asks, nipping your ear lobe. “Are you shy now? Don’t wanna grind on me?”
You do want to, but you hesitate. He encourages you, taking a hand and skimming down your waist to your ass, sliding under and squeezing your cheek as he lifts your hips in a motion to grind against him. The friction is good but not nearly enough and you let out a pitiful sound.
“Come on,” he urges. “Do it right, then.”
Fuck. Fuck.
You grind your cunt on his leg properly, planting your feet on the edge of the bed for leverage as Joshua’s mouth ravages your neck. You’re lost in him, letting your mind go a little empty as you seek friction, needing to relieve the pressure throbbing in your cunt.
Arousal gathers in your stomach and you feel yourself slow-drip into your panties, so turned on by the sudden confidence Joshua has when kissing you, when telling you to move. This is a side of him you’ve never explored and you dive in head first.
One hand leaving his hair, you grab his hand that’s on your ass as he continues to nip your collarbones, tongue laving over the sting of his bite. He lets you lead him by the wrist, and you guide his hand between your legs where you press his fingers to your zipper.
“Please,” you rasp. “I need more.”
He sinks his teeth into the top of your right breast, tongue tasting your skin. “Is that so?”
“Please. You said you’d walk through fire for me.”
His laugh is loud and he buries his face in your chest. “Yeah,” he agrees with a chaste kiss to your kiss-bitten chest. “I did say that, huh?”
“Yes, so gimme.”
“Anything For you.”
Years of friendship have erased any ability to feel awkward with Joshua but for a moment, you’re afraid it’ll be weird, touching one another like this. Joshua has no such qualms, unbuttoning your pants and yanking them down your legs with ease.
When he comes back up to lean over you, he doesn’t slot a knee between your legs. Instead, his fingers press firmly to your clothed cunt, a curse falling from his mouth as he feels how damp you are. You’re hot all over and yet you feel hotter still as he circles his fingers gently over your clit.
“Fuck,” you sigh, lids fluttering closed. “Feels good.”
“You’re fucking drenched, all from a little kissing huh?”
“And grinding,” you add.
“Yeah, l remember, you little vixen.” You moan, lost in his lazy ministrations and pressure on your clit. It’s relieved some of the ache, but not nearly enough. “I can see on your face you already want more.”
This time, Joshua doesn’t make you ask for it. He hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them to the side. Immediately you feel cold air against you, but he’s quick to slide his fingers up and down your wet folds, slicking them up to trail back up and circle slowly around your clit.
“Damn you’re fucking wet,” he curses. He leans up a little, eyes fucked out. “Take the rest off for me, baby.”
Baby. It shivers through you and you comply, though a little haphazardly. It’s hard to remove your shirt and bra with the way his fingers are slowly pressing your clit, making you thrash and gasp.
As soon as you lay back down, no shirt and no bra, Joshua is leaning forward, tongue darting out to flick against a stiffened nipple. You let out a loud moan and he hums in response, attaching his mouth to you and sucking. Fuck it feels good. You arch off the bed and his fingers leave your swollen clit to slide down your sticky mess to circle your entrance.
Gently, he sinks in a single finger. Your eyes roll back a little, pussy fluttering as he strokes your front wall. You’re tingling all over, buzzing with pleasure as he slowly fucks you with his finger, mouth busy plucking at your nipple with his teeth.
You’re lost in it, melted into the bed as Joshua plays you like a well-tuned instrument. The heel of his palm presses against your clit, providing just enough pressure as he fingers you to send the room spinning on its axis.
He tongue-kisses across your chest, mouth ravenous against your heaving gasps as he finds your other nipple. The tip of his tongue circles, making you keen and squirm underneath him. He watches you with dark eyes, teasing the aching bud before nipping you lightly.
“Sensitive,” he mumbles, dragging spit-slicked lips against your breast. “Can you take another finger?”
You nod eagerly, hungry to be filled. Your orgasm is starting to build slowly, worked up by the way he mouths at you, by the way Joshua’s fingers reach so deep, pressing against your g-spot as he sinks another into your heat.
“Shit,” you pant. “That feels so fucking good, Shua.”
“Mhmm.” He brings his mouth up to yours and your tongues tangle, teeth clinking together as he fucks you harder, the wet smack of your pussy against his palm loud. “Tight fucking pussy,” he pants, pressing hard against your front wall. Your heels dig into the bed as you try to keep up with the pleasure blooming in your stomach. “Gonna need to fuck you open a little if you’re gonna take me.”
If you’re gonna take me.
The promise of more has you rolling your hips up to meet his hand. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, dropping his gaze to look between your bodies. Your thighs and his stomach are slick with your juice, leaking around his fingers uncontrollably.
When Joshua introduces another finger, you hiss. The stretch is hard and it burns. He doesn’t keep thrusting right away, letting your cunt stretch around his three digits. But he’s pressed up against your soft spot, making you see stars as he puts unrelenting pressure on your nerves.
It feels like insanity, the way he does this to you. The way Joshua buries his face in your neck, your chests pressed together to provide friction against your teeth-marked nipples as he starts to build up a pace again, thrusting.
“I’m gonna come,” you whisper, hands grabbing frantically at his sweaty shoulder blades. Your thighs are shaking and it’s hard to get a breath in. Your voice quakes as you gasp. “Fuck.”
“So come,” he says, as if it’s that simple. He puts weight behind the hand fucking you, quickens the pace. Presses so fucking hard you think you might blackout. “If you’re gonna come, then do it.”
And you do. Just like that, nails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, you come around his fingers. He fucks you through it, breath hot in your ear. Your knees squeeze around his hips until you’re spent, collapsing against the mattress, boneless.
Joshua retracts his fingers. The sudden feeling of being empty makes you huff in protest and he laughs, lifting his face from your neck. You pout up at him and he kisses you again before leaning upward, straddling your legs.
Your eyes zero in on his hands as they undo the top of his belt. His hand is covered in a wet sheen, cum-slicked and sticky. He doesn’t care, popping up the belt and pulling down the zipper of his pants. You grow eager, leaning up as he pulls the waist down, revealing the dark briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is.
With no warning, you reach for his clothed cock, squeezing firmly. He hisses and drops his hands, jeans only pulled halfway down his thighs. Joshua tips his head back and moans at the ceiling as you lean forward and mouth at the damp spot on his briefs, tasting him.
“Fuck,” he swears and you grin, pressing and holding the flat of your tongue to the cloth to wet it.
You hum. Fingers dancing up his thighs, you pause at the elastic band, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I?”
Joshua tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes half-lidded. He nods, watching and dazed as you peel the elastic down his hips slowly. You lean forward as you do, pressing a soft kiss to his hip bone. He twitches and sighs in response.
You look at his cock as it bobs against his stomach, brown tip smearing precum against his navel. You lick your lips and drag your hand up, fingers gripping his velvety shaft. He’s thick and heavy in your hand as you grasp him firmly, stroking upward.
“Oh fuck,” he whispers, hips twitching. You grin up at him, swiping a thumb over the crown of his cock to spread the wetness down his shaft. He hums, entranced. “More.”
You don’t have to ask what he means. You lean upwards, pulling the tip of his cock toward your mouth. You slide just the tip into your mouth, suckling generously and running your tongue along the slit. His hand slips to the side of your neck, resting there but not doing anything. It’s a comforting weight as you take him in your mouth properly.
Joshua is art above you. Chest flushed, mouth open, eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was on his knees at worship. It is a sort of worship, the way you sink down on his cock, lips stretched wide, drool dripping down the side of your mouth and running down your jaw and neck. Is it not the spirit of loving him moving through you? Is this not heaven, looking up at him and seeing someone that has chosen you over and over again?
No pagan ritual in your life as a witch has felt like this. You swallow around him, eyes watering as you choke on his length, pulling back a little to catch your breath. Your hand squeezes him at the base, slick with your spit and his precum. Your mouth is wet and swollen as you lick the underside of his shaft, never looking away from his face.
“Fuck that mouth,” he sighs, eyes opening and looking down at you. He squeezes the side of your neck a little, fingers right against your throat. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I can’t hold out if you keep going. How do you like it?”
Instead of answering him, you pull off of him with a sloppy, wet noise. You make a show of running your tongue along your lips before turning around and crawling up the bed, wiggling your ass a little. Joshua groans as he sheds his jeans and briefs the rest of the way.
The bed sinks when he crawls behind you. You go down on your elbows, ass up high. He smacks each cheek firmly with both hands, making you yelp as he grips the stinging flesh, squeezing. “You have a good ass.”
“It’s all those charmed cinnabons you feed me.”
He laughs loudly at that. Joshua’s hand skims down to your thighs, grabbing them and pushing them open. You sink a little lower on the bed, face pressed to the sheets and letting your eyes shut. The hair on his thighs sends a shiver up your spine as his legs brush against yours, hands roaming and squeezing your hips, your butt, your thighs.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters. His hands come back over the globes of your ass and sink toward your wet cunt. You moan as his thumbs peel you open, pressing around your clenching hole. “Shit.”
The bed bounces as he moves again and then your eyes are snapping open, fingers twisting in your sheets when you feel the flat of his tongue swipe up your pussy. He hums in delight and you’re reeling, trying to catch your breath as he licks at you.
“Just wanted a taste,” he says, more to himself than you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it a few times and you nearly crumble right there at the unexpected stimulation. He slow-licks up to your hole, tracing it once before retracting his mouth. “I have all the time in the world for you to come in my mouth. Right now I just wanna feel you.”
“Yes, please.”
Your breath gets stuck when you feel the head of Joshua’s cock catch your entrance. He’s thick, and even though you’re dripping down your thighs and stretched from his fingers, the pressure of him sinking into your heat slowly sends you moaning like a wanton whore, unable to stop the sounds escaping your mouth.
Joshua is precise, hands holding your hips firmly until he’s fully seated in your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. You feel so full, his cock reaching deep enough to feel in your gut. When he pulls all the way out, you think something is wrong, but he fucks back into you hard.
“Oh shit,” you gasp, feeling the full weight of him spear you. “Holy shit.”
He doesn’t say anything but he grunts, setting a slow but deep pace. His hips snap into you with force, your knees spreading a little bit wider. He leans into it more, moving his hands to press into the small of your back. The full force of his weight pushing your hips into the bed as he slams into you makes you dizzy.
An orgasm starts to build deep in your stomach. You claw at the bed, breaths coming out in a hiss. Joshua grabs one of your hands, pulling it backward to pin it against your lower back before doing the same to the other. You’re completely pinned under him, pushed so far into the mattress you think you might fade and vanish into foam and sheets.
Nothing here matters but the way he fucks into you, unrelenting, heavy, precise. He says your name and it rolls off his tongue sweeter than any pastry he’s ever made. Your orgasm creeps up on you, shaking and thunderous. It feels stronger than before, a pressure that makes you start to shiver, feet kicking under him.
For a moment, he slows, pulling off you a little. “Okay?”
“Keep going,” you beg him, voice high-pitched and strange to your ears. “Please don’t stop, I’ll tell you if I can’t take it.”
That’s all he needs. He redoubles and this time, changes his direction, hits that spot inside of you head on with his cock and you think you’re going to pass out. You become lifeless under him, unable to do anything but take it. The wave of your orgasm builds and builds and builds until finally, it breaches.
You come for a second time, no noise coming out of you. It’s all white vision and squeezed thighs and ringing ears. You think you feel something like a bolt of lightning, a snap of power so strong as you clench around Joshua that you taste static in the air.
It’s hard to know how long it lasts. One moment you’re shaking and the next, you’re drifting, feeling weightless and exhausted. The weight of Joshua’s touch keeps you tethered and from straying too far, but you’re somewhere in between nonetheless.
Slowly, reality drips back to you. You think you may have dozed a little, your eyes dry as you blink them open. Joshua is lying next to you, arm wrapped around you and eyes closed. He’s not breathing deep enough to be asleep, confirming it when his eyes open, sensing your gaze.
A smile lights up his face and you smile tiredly at him. Your cunt aches and your legs and arms are sore from being pinned, and you’re still a little shaky. Thoughts of your orgasm make you twitch, post-sex tremors that you can’t escape.
“Hi,” you rasp. “Did I fall asleep?”
“I think you blacked out.”
“I- what?”
“I sort of…” he frowns. “There was like this electrical snap when I came. You clenched me so fucking hard I just… let go. I think we sort of had a magical orgasm.”
“A magical orgasm.”
He grins. “Just say thank you for the witch orgasm.”
“Ugh.” You smack his chest and he laughs hoarsely.
It did feel like that though. Like a crackle of energy, like being struck by a storm of electricity and heat. You feel tired and heavy-limbed, but you feel sticky and sweaty too. “I need a shower.”
“Mhmm. I was waiting for you to come to.” He starts to sit up. “Come on, I’ll shower you. Then we need to sleep. We have to prepare you for your big day.”
“My big day?”
Joshua grins as he reaches a hand for you. There’s a spark again when you touch and you hesitate, feeling the well of his magic there. It hums in him, a thunderhead of power and fire. He sees your expressions and softens. “You can’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Baby, I just fucked you until you blacked out, and you know what you didn’t do?” Your brows pull together and he smiles. “You didn’t pull an ounce of my magic from me. I think you’re a lot better at control than you think you are.”
Licking your lips, you nod and let him pull you from bed. You are good at control. You had to be after your sister. It’s something you’ve practiced nonstop, the unconscious control of your desire for magic. Even when you sleep, you wake up often, fearful of losing your grip on yourself while you slumber.
It hasn’t happened yet. And as Joshua leads you to the shower, you think… maybe it never will. Especially if the ritual goes right. Especially if you can get your magic back.
Perhaps for the first time since you were thirteen, you feel a sliver of hope. When you look at Joshua and you feel your heart stutter, you know that even without your magic, you’ve found something.
-
“Oh for the love of the land,” Jihoon groans when you appear in the basement of Joshua’s home. “Look at the two of you.”
Everyone swivels to look at you and Joshua, who are hand-in-hand. You freeze, pulling up short to take in the candle-lit room and the other men who are all looking at you with equal parts happiness and a little bit of amusement.
You shift from foot to foot and chew your lip. Suddenly you want to turn tail and run back up the stairs and away from the watchful eyes of your friends - of Joshua’s coven members. But Joshua holds your hand tight, tugging you down the rest of the stairs into the gloom of the room.
Perhaps gloom isn’t the right word. The room is much too warm and smells of sage and thyme, a good feeling if not a little overwhelming. Outside this house, there is an entire festival going on at the park. The covenstead witches were furious when Joshua let them know that he and his members would not be participating this year, as they had private matters to attend to.
It’s common for covens to use the holiday for something specific. Perhaps to bless a witch in need, or to strengthen a spell, or to defeat some evil. You remember that night that your parents left you alone for Beltane duties to fight and remove Dissenters, and how that turned out for you.
Magic hums all around you. It’s in the sigils on the ceiling of Joshua’s sanctum and it’s in the ley lines that you can feel now more than ever as the veil between worlds thins. Each member of the coven has magic humming in their veins, a sort of signature taste and feel to it. You sense Jihoon’s deep shadows and Seungcheol’s vibrant green, taste Jeonghan’s clean water and feel Junhui’s pure air. Minghao and Joshua are the flickering flame that fills the room with light and heat, and Chan’s crackling storm greets you in the corner.
It’s hard to imagine where you fit in with them. But they don’t have a blood witch, who is all of these things wrapped into one. You know that they support you. All of you have gone over the ritual what feels like a hundred times at this point, perfecting it and making sure you know it inside and out.
The two rituals are wildly different. One to seek and find the source of your pain, led by Jihoon and Junhui. Jihoon’s shadows and connection to the other side will help seek answers and provide clarity on whatever signs and hints come through the vision you’re supposed to have, and Junhui’s strength with air will help keep you protected and clear of any negative energy.
Then, a small spell to build a bridge between the two rituals that Seungcheol will handle with Jeonghan. Seungcheol has it down to a science and has previously used it to link spells, and his affinity for earth will ground the entire circle. Jeonghan’s skill with water is to help guide you from ritual to ritual with ease and clarity.
It’s the second half of the ritual that’s the most demanding, which is why it’s Minghao and Chan conducting the destructive half, breaking whatever stands between you and your magic. Two warriors meant to sever your block or the target of your curse, whichever it may be.
And it’s possible that you’re cursed. You have briefly spoken about what that means. About what to do. It will most likely mean something damaging and life-threatening for whoever did curse you, if you forcefully try to shatter it instead of finding the cause.
But there’s also potential for you to be harmed if the two of them try to break it and it’s too strong. It’s a risk that you have to assess in the moment, which is terrifying. You want to do it anyway, and you’re happy to find that they support you. That they’re there for you.
Coven members already, really.
All of them are dressed to perform a ritual. Dark robes, anointed element symbols in dark ash on their brows. Jihoon has a small circlet around his head, making you pause and tilt your head as you glance at Joshua. He sees your confusion and smiles. “Jihoon is our high priest tonight,” he murmurs. “He will start and end the circle so I can be here with you.”
Jihoon is blushing and looking up at the ceiling when you turn back to him. For him to step up and hold the circle as the beginning and end is a huge risk on him. He’ll be providing the most magic and taking on the most risk second only to you, all so that Joshua can move freer and have more control.
“Jihoon is a very powerful witch, as you know,” Joshua murmurs, steering you to the center of the room. “He holds circles for a lot of our rituals when we feel he’s better suited.”
“Which is often,” Jihoon mutters at the ceiling where he keeps his gaze.
“Yah, shut up, hag. Everyone get in their places.”
Joshua puts you in the very center of the room. There is a pentagram chalked in powder, but there is no glow to it, no light to signal that it’s being used. He squeezes your shoulders and you look at him, wide eyed and afraid. His smile is warm and a little nervous, but he leans in and kisses you once.
“Trust us,” he says. “This will be hard on you. But we’ve got you.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t break the circle,” he reminds you. “If you have to break, do it when Seungcheol is at the middle part and before we start the second ritual. He will open the circle a little, but it’ll be just for a moment before the second is started and locked.”
“Right. Ten second escape if I need to.”
“You only have that window if we need to stop. Once we start the second, there is no stopping until the full ritual is complete.”
“Got it.”
“Good luck,” Joshua whispers and kisses you on the brow. “I’ll be right here.”
With a deep breath, he steps to the side and grasps your hand. The two of you stand alone in the middle, you and your anchor. Silence settles over the room. You haven’t been in the middle of a circle since you were a little girl receiving her first welcome into the coven. You had done that with your sister by your side and your mother at the head of the circle.
Now, you’re with Joshua, with Jihoon at the head of the circle. Jihoon doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but you sense his calming aura even from where he stands at the first point of the circle. He rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, lifting his palms upward. “I stand at north, the beginning and end, start this circle, spirit ascend.”
You feel the ripple of magic in the room. Fire crackles at Jihoon’s feet, making you flinch. You watch as the red flames lick toward Junhui, who is quick and light as he murmurs, “I stand northeast, to cleanse and protect, continue the circle, spirit to the next.”
You watch the flame as it sparks to life, moving clockwise around the room. Every time a member joins the circle, you feel the power thrum through the room, the pentagram beneath your feet beginning to glow. The flame comes all the way back around to Jihoon and he closes it, eyes opening and looking right at you.
Jihoon looks different than before, eyes shadowed and full of stars. “Begin,” he commands, voice like a thousand whispers.
A little spike of fear goes through you as Junhui begins to chant. You recognize the Latin immediately but your unpracticed ears lose trace of the meaning. It’s picked up slowly in the room and you feel your palms slick with sweat as the light of the pentagram pulses beneath your feet, the flames flickering around the feet of the coven members.
Jihoon’s voice picks up the chant like you’ve never heard him before. It’s uncanny and you lean into Joshua, who squeezes your hand and looks down at you.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “This happens when he leads a circle. Veil is thin.”
Nodding your head, you turn to the front again, feeling the itch to pull power from the circle, to draw their magic into you. There’s so much of it filling the room, an open tap of water spilling into the sink. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, worried that you won’t be able to resist, worried that you’re going to pull from the magic and-
A wave of dizziness hits you. You gasp and bend over, hand circling your middle as though you’ve just been punched. Joshua’s hands are on your back but you can’t hear him, a high-pitched ringing drowning out the sound of his voice. For a second, you’re lost in the sensation of having the air sucked from your lungs and the whine in your ears getting higher and higher.
Just when you think that your ear drums will burst, the ringing stops. There is a hushed whisper filling your ears and you still can’t catch your breath. The room spins a little and when you look up expecting to see Jihoon, all you see is dark trees and a blurry shadowy… building. Something.
The whispers creep up on you. There are so many of them, hundreds - no, thousands - of voices brushing against you, dragging their fingers along your skin, touching you, hissing, singing, screaming. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced and their words are jumbled, sliding over one another.
Terror begins to claw at you. You try to remain calm, remembering that these are not the voices of spirits or something evil. Junhui is commanding this ritual, an element of purity and guidance. He won’t let anything bad happen to you.
With faith in your future coven member, you try to focus on the voices. Try to decode them. Seungcheol warned you that the messaging might be confusing. That you might not follow or understand what it’s saying. Symbols, images, key words. You need to reach for anything that seems like something, that can point to the origin of your block and follow it.
Jihoon’s presence presses at the back of your mind. It startles you at first, to feel who you know is innately Jihoon. You follow the press of whatever he’s doing and you catch a few words that fly by you: little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. Little hut little hut.
Unsure what it means, you cling to that. Little hut. It means something… you remember something about it. Jihoon’s presence fades away, satisfied that you’ve picked up on whatever it is he sees or senses.
Flipping through memories, you try to remember why a hut might mean anything to you. There were no huts by your town… nothing that you can remember no one you know of.
Little hut, little hut.
One memory sticks with you. Your sister playing in the background, hopscotching to a little tune that Mila down the street whispered to her about a witch in the woods.
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
Yes, you think. A rhyme about a witch who lived in the woods. More thing than witch, really. A shadowy being that took the shape of a hut, a creature of magic and curses that could be found in the darkest part of the woods when the veil is thin.
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
You see it now. The blurry shape of a house that’s not really a house. The witch in the wood was a blood witch once, it was said. A witch who had long since dissented and practiced arcane magic, following a path that led her here. That led her to this. A thing of the woods.
It occurs to you the weight of the appearance of her. This hut in the woods. Jihoon’s flippant remark about you being cursed is suddenly real.
Dread drops down in your stomach like a weight. You can’t hear anything beyond the rhyme, the chant to find the witch of the woods. You’re cursed, you realize. All the fear that your condition was self-inflicted, that it was your fault, that this was something you did.
This is something that happened to you, Joshua had said.
And he was right. Someone cursed you - did this to you. A child.
Out there in the world, there is someone responsible for the death of your sister. Someone who took your magic, who turned you into a leech. The reason for your family's pain, the reason for them throwing you away. For your father and mother being driven mad, for the town turning against you.
You think about the rock that hit you just days ago. Thrown by a child taught to hate you. Taught that it was okay to hurt you because it was you. The town siphoner. A witch who couldn’t make her own magic, a parasite.
Anger wells up inside of you and you latch onto the rhyme swirling around your head, clawing through it. This is the thread you must follow to find your curse giver. This is the clue.
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
Dully, you are aware that Joshua is next to you. You see him from the corner of your eye but it’s not Joshua at all. Well - not as you now know him. This Joshua is younger - a teenager by the looks of it. He’s not doing anything except staring out into the darkness. He fades in and out like a bad TV picture, glitching and blurring. But you know it’s him.
His face is different though. Twisted in grief and pain, a frozen picture of angst. You imagine this is what you looked like when your sister died, a tableau of hurt and hate.
Little hut, little hut
I call to thee
Little hut, little hut
Come to me
The Joshua in front of you fades away. You reach out for him but your hands cut through empty air and darkness. He’s not really there and you have a hard time grasping the meaning of this. The voice sounds almost like Joshua but not quite. Not as mature.
Young Joshua doesn’t show up again. You can feel the real Joshua somewhere in the mess of the vision and the darkness, but you can’t hear him. Can’t see him. There is only the omnipresent darkness of the hut and the whispers of voices.
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life
There’s a flash of lightning. A storm in the darkness, splashes of purple and blue electricity. You cover your eyes as you hear thunder, low and soft somewhere. Across from you, your sister appears. She’s a fraternal twin who looks nothing like you except in the eyes. Your eyes look right back at you.
She’s the same age she was when she died. When you took her magic away. When you were cursed. She looks the same age as the apparition of Joshua, and you try to understand. To make the connection from what you're seeing as the lightning lances again like it did that fateful night.
The rhyme keeps circling in a hurricane of whispers.
As the ritual comes to a close, the vision begins to fade. You’re no better off than where you started and in a panic, you reach for the vision of your sister. You just want to hold her one last time, to feel the warmth of her skin.
But she isn’t real and she fades as Junhui’s chanting falls to a murmur and then to a whisper, the air returning to normal. You can breathe again, and as you look up from where you’re bent over, you see Joshua kneeling on the ground in front of you, holding you by the shoulders. His face is swimming with fear and concern, gaze searching.
Joshua looks so much like his younger self. He’s matured into his face and is a handsome man, but he was a cute teenager. His face now is full of love and concern, but you think about his face in your vision. Twisted in pain and years.
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life
You straighten up suddenly, knocking him over on his ass as you do so. It feels like you’ve been slapped as you stare at him, a sudden buzz in your ears as you stare and stare and stare. The ritual comes to an end and Seungcheol opens the circle - a foot in the door, more like - and begins to start his spell for Minghao and Chan to weave the new ritual into the circle.
Without thinking about it, you dash for the edge of the circle. Joshua yells but you’re fast, surging between Seungcheol and Jeonghan where the door exists. Seungcheol’s head snaps to look at you, eyes wide and mouth open.
“Close it and close the circle,” you pant.
“I-”
“Close the fucking circle!”
All eyes turn to you. They hesitate for a moment, the flames around them wavering. You can feel the power licking at their heels and something like rage shudders through you. You don’t know where to channel it yet and you begin to pace as Seungcheol recloses the circle and turns to Jihoon.
Slowly, Jihoon begins to finish the ritual. They work backward from Jihoon to Chan to Minghao to Jeonghan. You don’t look at them, wringing your hands as you pace back and forth, heart reaching a wild beat.
Images fly by. The hut, the whispers, Joshua’s face, the thunderstorm, your sister.
The narrative isn’t straightforward. You don’t quite understand the rhyme, or its function, but the second half sounds bad, sounds perhaps like a plea. A bargain. A need for a curse. You recall the thunderstorm on the night of Beltane, the way your sister watched with wide eyes while you sought her out. You think of Joshua’s affinity for fire and storms, the way he can command thunder just by being upset. You think of his face, so full of pain and hate.
Finally, they finish the circle. Joshua rushes to you, hands outstretched and a question on his mouth but you jerk away from him.
“Did you curse someone?” you demand, making him pull up short. He opens and closes his mouth. The silence in the room is deafening. You can hear your own heartbeat, pulse throbbing in your ears. “Joshua, did you curse someone?”
“I… what does that have to do with-”
“Little hut, little hut. Hear my strife. Little hut, little hut. Ruin this life.”
Three things happen then. The first is Joshua’s confusion as he shakes his head, lost as to why you’re repeating a rhyme back to him. Then a flicker of memory followed by the drain of color on his face. He straightens up, blanched and shakes his head back and forth as he takes a step away from you.
“No,” he says and takes another step back. “That’s not right, I didn’t curse you.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t curse you,” he says again. He seems lost in it though, like he’s saying it to himself. Jihoon takes a step toward Joshua and he holds out a hand, warding Jihoon off. “I cursed the witches responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t curse you.”
“You cursed someone?” Minghao hisses from across the circle. “And you never thought to mention it in preparation for this?”
“Shut up, Minghao,” Joshua snaps. “I didn’t curse her. I did go into the woods that night to find the hut witch and I cursed the people responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t even know you then.”
“Did you give a name? What did you say?”
“I didn’t know their names!” He answers, frantic and looking at you pleadingly. “I didn’t - no. I remember it, I shared my blood with her, to show the memory. I saw their faces, but I didn’t know their names. We were -” his voice cracks and he clutches his hands against his chest, tears in his eyes. “I was so afraid when they came. We’d been going from town to town, trying to get away. My parents wanted to go back home, overseas. We just had to get there and then these witches, they came and blew down the door and they killed them.”
“So you cursed them based on a memory?”
“Yes,” he insists. “Baby, I didn’t curse you. How could I? How would I?”
Little hut, little hut
Hear my strife
Little hut, little hut
Ruin this life
“Joshua.” You say his full name, voice ringing and calmer than you feel. Your stomach is in knots and you feel your mouth water, hinting at the nausea working its way up your throat. “Did you ask the blood witch in the hut to ruin the lives of the witches who killed your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Were your parents Dissenters killed on the night of Beltane?”
A long stretch of silence takes up the space between you. You stare at Joshua and he becomes a stranger. Become another person on the street that looks at you with hate. Another face in the dozens of the town who don’t care if you exist.
When Joshua says nothing, it means everything. The final piece of information slots its way in and you feel like you’re going to crack open like an egg and spill out. Gooey and yolk-yellow.
“That was why there was a storm,” you whisper. “Because you were angry and upset, wherever it was that you were. And you cursed my family. Not my parents. Our entire family. That’s why I lost my magic and siphoned my sister to death. That’s why my parents were driven to madness and their eventual end. It’s why everyone hates me. You cursed me with ruin.”
“I…” Joshua shakes his head but can’t make the words come out.
There is no way out now. You get everything picture perfect for the first time. It’s the perfect curse, really. Driving your family to ruin in different ways. Pushing you, the final member of the family, to the person you would eventually fall in love with, to the person that cursed you.
You turn and run. He tries to run after you but someone stops him. He has his coven to comfort him for what he’s done and you have nothing and no one. Just how you started.
Your runaway is messy. Tripping over thresholds, slipping down stairs. Night stretches over the world and the air is thrumming with energy. You think it would be so easy to tap into, to take and take and take the magic around you that echoes from the Beltane festivals. Would anyone even notice if you took a little?
Still, you don’t. Hot tears blind you as you stumble into the woods behind Joshua’s house. It’s not the best shortcut when you’re distraught and overcome with tears, but you think you can get to your apartment building by memory alone.
Around you, the world grows darker and quieter. Eventually, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and sniffling as the tears freefall. Something prickles on your skin and you slow your tangled escape to look around you.
The woods are unfamiliar. At least, they seem darker and hazier, like you’re somewhere that looks like the woods behind Joshua’s house but isn't quite right. You’re more careful as you move forward, one foot in front of the other.
A breeze cools the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, feeling more like a finger running down your spine than the actual wind. A whisper of noise wisps by you and you stop, frowning. Trying to grasp the words as they float by, indiscernible.
You start walking again, following the sound of a voice that is always just a little too far ahead. A little too soft spoken for you to make out the words. When you do manage to catch up, you hear a soft little rhyme.
Little hut, little hut
Hidden in the wood
Little hut, little hut
Up to no good
Little hut, little hut
Alone in the gloom
Little hut, little hut
Silent as a tomb
Little hut, little hut
Across the dark stream
Little hut, little hut
Wait for the scream
Something like a high-pitched wail rings out behind you. Your limbs lock and goosebumps explode over your arms and legs as you slowly crane your neck to look in the direction that you came. There’s no clear path, just tangled trees and darkness.
A soft buzz tingles along your skin. You sense the magic, static that you can’t hear but you can feel and taste on your tongue. Slowly, you turn back to face the direction you’re walking. There is a tiny little stream in front of you, trickling and black.
Carefully, you step over it. Your hands quake. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck and your upper lip, your mouth trembling as you see the vague shape of a hut. Or perhaps it's just the idea of a hut, with a hole for a door that looks endless. Void. Dark.
You think about your sister. See her face swimming in front of you, so full of life. Then it drains of color as you bleed her dry and steal everything from her. Every drop, turning her from a beautiful girl full of the sun and the sky into a husk.
You clench your fists.
Vengeance can’t bring her back. Vengeance can’t make them love you. But it can take away this fucking hurt inside of you, the pain that you have carried for so long that it feels like a wound that will never close. So you decide to take a page out of Joshua’s book.
“Little hut, little hut,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feel my ache. Little hut, little hut, make him break.”
Trigger warnings: mentions of blood & violence; Jeonghan is a lil bit of a bad guy here
His resolve was strong. Or so Minghao believed. He would rather die than hurt someone he cared about, no matter how much the hunger gnawed at him, eating him from the inside out.
He preserved the strengths by not fighting at all. The silver chain that dug into his wrists burned through his flesh and rested against the bone. He couldn’t feel it anymore, although neither could he move his fingers.
When the doors opened, he only opened his eyes to meet his captor’s.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
Jeonghan was not completely evil, Minghao knew. They’ve known each other for years, although not on such a close level, if one could call “close” whatever was happening between the two of them now. Jeonghan was not evil, but he could be cruel. One of them would eventually crack. Although Minghao believed in his resolve, at this point he also would not bet that it would not be him.
He watched curiously as Jeonghan took out a plastic zipper bag. Something was inside. When he opened it, the scent of blood filled the air. Minghao felt his heart beat faster and his mouth – salivate.
He pressed his lips together, but it didn’t take much effort for Jeonghan to pry them open and force a piece of bloodied fabric between his teeth. He held it there with his palm when Minghao tried to spit it out.
He wanted to feel disgusted by it. He should have felt disgusted by it.
But the scent was familiar, and the taste soothed his senses. It filled him so sweetly, although he couldn’t drink it and it was just a reminiscence of flavor lingering on the material. It almost made him forget about the most important thing…
He turned his head hastily and spat the fabric out before Jeonghan could stop him again.
“What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” The corner of his lip was lifted in a smirk. Minghao didn’t want to believe him. But he knew Jeonghan, and that’s what terrified him. It terrified him that he was always telling the truth. “She came on her own, asking about you. I told her what the problem with you is.”
“There is no problem with me.”
“I didn’t want you to hurt her if you went into frenzy, so I told her to prepare something for you instead.” He pointed at the bloodied fabric, now discarded on the ground. “But if you want, I can bring her here. Do you want it? Do you want to see her, Hao? Do you want to smell her from up close?”
“I’m not going to drink from her.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem if I bring her here, right?”
When Jeonghan got up to leave, Minghao wished to stop him. It was at the end of his tongue – the plea to not come back, to not risk that he’ll lose control.
But he couldn’t say it out loud. His hunger was blinding him.
You were pacing around the room nervously, wondering what would happen next. Different scenarios ran through your mind as you tried to hastily put a band aid to the fresh wound on your forearm. You could have sat down to do this, but you felt too nervous, and you just couldn’t force yourself to stay still.
It took ages before the door opened and Jeonghan walked in. You vaguely noticed a bit of dirt on his fingers, but the cloth you left him with was nowhere in sight. He was moving elegantly, smoothly – contrasting with the way you felt.
“How is he?” you asked, stepping towards him. “Did he take it?”
Jeonghan smiled. There was something unsettling about that smile. Like he didn’t share your worry and only toyed with your fear.
“He wants to see you.”
Something inside you screamed, telling you not to believe in a word he said.
But you knew that whether with his word or not, you’d want to see Minghao, no matter what state he was in. Or maybe especially now that he was suffering so much.
He felt the scent even before he saw you coming. The metallic smell overwhelmed his senses, filling him with hunger, making him for a brief moment forget that there was a person behind it, a person he was so desperately wanting to keep safe from himself.
When Jeonghan reached his cell and let you inside, his eyes automatically landed on your forearm and all he could think of was the memory of flavor on his tongue, although dissipated completely by that point.
You looked uncertain as you entered, but a quick glance at his burned wrists made you want to run towards him instantly, distress clear on your face.
“Don’t get close” he rumbled. You wouldn’t have listened, but Jeonghan wrapped his fingers around your wrist, keeping you from approaching him.
Minghao felt a pang of anxiety fill his chest. Of all people, he wouldn’t expect Jeonghan to be the one to keep you at a safe distance. Which meant that he had something on that wicked mind of his, and that could only mean trouble.
Before he could process what was happening, Jeonghan grabbed the band aid that protected your wound and pulled it off roughly. You winced, haste movement irritating the surface of the wound and making it bleed again.
Minghao didn’t say a word. He didn’t even move, eyes fixated on the burgundy as Jeonghan dragged his palm across the cut. You were in pain, he could tell – not too much, but he was only making it worse, and you eventually tore yourself out of his hold. But Jeonghan didn’t even spare you a glance, walking up to Minghao and wiping the blood covering his palm on the man’s mouth.
It took all of Minghao’s willpower to not lick his lips.
You stood behind him, holding the cut with your other hand. There was confusion written all over your face, surprise at Jeonghan’s audacity, at his lack of care in how you would feel. He seemed so careful, so tender with you before – so much that you believed in his good intentions. But now you thought you were just gullible.
When Jeonghan turned around to finally face you, you felt fear fill you more than ever before. But you stood rooted to the ground as he reached towards you and grabbed your arm, pulling him in, keeping you barely outside of Minghao’s reach.
Minghao’s face was dark. His eyes glistened.
You weren’t sure if he was there still, or if his instincts were taking over.
But it was good, you thought. It was right. That was the purpose of it, right? To help him feed. To help him accept what he became and not starve himself any longer. You would go to the end of the world and beyond, if only to make sure he treated himself well. That he did what he needed to do.
Jeonghan didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
He could have.
He chose to stay silent as he pulled you into him and leaned down. You didn’t have enough time to react – frankly, he wouldn’t give you the opportunity to. When he bit into your shoulder, his dark eyes fixated solely on Minghao’s, you knew that there was nothing you could have done to begin with, that you were nothing but a puppet in his hands, getting toyed with and ordered around to his liking, to the twisted plan he created to get Minghao on his side.
Pain blossomed from your shoulder, all the way down to the tips of your fingers, paralyzing you. It was unfamiliar, overwhelming. Your mind went blank for a few long moments, shock freezing you to the core as you struggled to process what was happening. Your breath got caught in your throat.
“Stop it” you heard Minghao’s voice falter. But when you managed to glance toward him, although his face wore a worried expression, his eyes were fixated on your shoulder. His muscles were straining against the silver chains, wanting to finally break free. You couldn’t comprehend the pain he must have felt. Your own agony must have been almost intangible… “Jeonghan, enough!”
Jeonghan ripped his teeth out of your shoulder, sparing him a wide, bloody grin. Blood ran down his chin and dripped on his shirt. To a normal person, it would’ve looked disgusting.
Minghao’s mouth watered.
“Your turn.”
He grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled forward. You landed on your knees with a thud.
Minghao, although with his wrists chained up against the wall, was looking at you from above now. It was a losing battle for him. You sobbed, but the sound didn’t reach him. Yet, he didn’t move from his spot.
And he didn’t have to. Jeonghan grabbed you once again, this time by the roots of your hair, not even remotely considering the pain blooming in every part of your body at this point.
He didn’t hesitate, not even a second, before forcing your neck right into Minghao’s lips.
Like this, the battle was lost. The last string of resolve broke effortlessly and Minghao’s teeth buried in your soft flesh, like a starved animal just wanting to quench its hunger, not like the person you loved and cherished.
You felt – sensed – him change. You let out a small, weak whimper as his fangs crushed your tendons. If Jeonghan only did not care for how you felt, Minghao dived his teeth into you with the sole purpose of tearing the living flesh off your body. You were lightheaded – from pain or blood loss, you wouldn’t know. You felt small. Irrelevant. Tangled into their story as a mere tool for the plot to unfold.
What you were too dazed to feel, was Minghao’s becoming stronger with every gulp of your blood that flowed in his mouth. His arms found the power to rip through the silver chains and wrap around your body instead.
But he couldn’t stop. He was too deep in.
He felt the strength. The comfort. He swore that your blood would have no control over him, but at that point, that promise didn’t matter. He craved nothing else but… everything.
Minghao’s resolve was strong.
But his resolve right now was to never let himself feel weak again.
Please reblog if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist for more SVT fics. And, of course, follow if you would like to read more in the future. Thank you for your time!
Pairing: stableboy!Joshua Hong x princess!female reader
This story takes place between parts 1 and 2 of my Vernon fic, Cinders.
WC: ~4.8k
Genres/Warnings: sfw, medieval au, fluff, angst, forbidden love, anxiety, dissociation, reader is a bit of a tomboy, other svt members are here, reader is young and dumb
Other: Reader's nickname is Keys, Vernon's reader's nickname is Scribs
Kingdom Universe taglist: @raineisms
"You called?"
Your gloved hands were on your hips as you stood a couple feet in front of the man in question.
"There you are, Y/N!" As always, Joshua shamelessly looked you up and down. "You look as fresh as a lime."
"Aren't limes, like, super sour??" You raised an eyebrow.
Joshua shrugged. "Yeah sure, that too. Anyways, come over here."
You scoffed and walked over to Joshua who was holding his hoof cleaning tool bag.
"So...something's up with Copper?"
"Right," Joshua nodded. "We know you weren't available to pick her hooves on the scheduled day this week. So as usual, I tried to do it myself. But she won't let me this time and I don't know why. I was wondering if you could help?"
You agreed without hesitation. Nothing else mattered to you at that point, including the fact that Joshua could totally have asked his father for help instead. You just wanted your girl to feel better.
In your eyes, no other horse in the world was more beautiful than your Copper. When you and your siblings got to pick your own ponies as kids, everyone had been worried because you picked the one with the most attitude. Many seasoned knights wouldn't dare.
But you knew from the moment you laid eyes on that dazzling coat the color of coins that you wanted her.
The marshal (Joshua's father) had laughed and reassured your parents, saying that you and Copper have the same fire in your eyes and would get along just fine.
As you reminisced while speaking softly to Copper, Joshua watched from behind and felt his heart swell.
His father had been right. You were the only person Copper was most well behaved with from the get go. Plus, Copper needed more breaking in than others, so growing up you had spent almost all of your free time in the stables.
"You ready?" Joshua asked with a soft smile. You turned around and returned it.
"Yeah."
Joshua worked in silence as you held up each of Copper's legs. With every twitch, head-shake, and snort, you comforted her so she wouldn't kick as Joshua expertly picked away dirt and debris out of her hooves.
It felt so natural, taking care of horses with no one but Joshua after a nice, long lunch.
"There ya go, girl," Joshua stood up after the last hoof and wiped his forehead. "All better."
"Good girl!" You cooed. "Say thank you to Joshua! Josh, do you have a sugar cube?"
His smile grew wider as he handed you one to feed Copper. He loved watching you with horses - your eyes become warm with adoration and you always knew the right things to say.
Copper gave you a nuzzle when she was done, making you laugh and flash a dazzling smile at Joshua. His heart involuntarily leap into his throat at the sight as he gave a side-smile back.
And then like routine, it felt like it sank back down and twisted in on itself.
For years this had been going on and it continued to eat up Joshua from the inside. Eventually he couldn't even recall when it started - the only thing that was certain was Joshua Hong loved you and he could never stop even if he wanted to.
Joshua wanted so badly to tell you how he'd always had eyes for you and how beautiful he thought you were in every way. How much he admired your personality and tough-as-nails resolve. How much he longed to feel the warmth of your hands in his aside from awkward hugs and accidental touches during practice.
If only he knew that in that moment, you were feeling the same thing.
Pain has been a terrible price to pay for your crush on the palace stableboy. Ever since childhood you fell for Joshua's gorgeous features, his silly streak, caring touch, those perfect eyes, making you sigh and pine at almost every waking moment...
While also causing you anguish at your fate, the tears of your dissolving self-esteem, and the searing jealousy when your own maids flirted with him so openly.
But if it wasn't for that twisting and turning feeling of pain, you could never love. You wouldn't be able to feel the immense happiness that bubbles up and blooms when you see each other, comfort each other, ride horses together.
So it was moments like these that you treasured most. You could both fall deeper and deeper for each other silently, gazing at each other while sharing mutual passions, sunrays flowing through the stalls illuminating your faces and making longing eyes sparkle.
Moments where you could forget, even if just for a little while, that one day you may never see Joshua again.
And with that, you forced yourself to look away from him and clear your throat.
"Well...I'd better get going."
Joshua nodded, trying to keep his feelings in check for the millionth time. "Okay. Sorry for having you come on such short notice."
"No need to apologize, thank you for having me help, Josh."
Joshua gave you a playful smile. "Of course Y/N, it's always worth seeing you."
You rolled your eyes, blushing, then took off with a huff. Joshua didn't realize he was still grinning like an idiot watching you nearly trip until he heard a snort from next to him.
Joshua gave Copper a look. "Well excuse you miss, I have no idea what you're talking about."
---
At dinner, you sat next to one of your older sister's ladies-in-waiting, the same one who had relayed Joshua's request for help earlier that day.
"So, how did it go?" She asked, swirling her wine goblet.
You raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Same as always. Copper would have broken his nose if I wasn't there. I'm not sure why you're asking."
"Very funny," Scribs smirked sarcastically. But she knew better than to press the topic further.
As you ate in silence with your back up straight, you made your daily wish that your older sister was there.
She had always been the life of a group, making even the most mundane topics sound interesting over dinner. You didn't have to do anything except smile and nod and she knew it, happy to relieve that pressure from you. Now that she was away on her honeymoon with Seungcheol, all eyes were on you and Scribs, who had her own way with words and did her best to cover for you.
But you couldn't avoid your duties forever.
"So Y/N," your mother spoke suddenly, wearing a smile that said get it together. You must have been frowning. "Today's game pies are quite tasty, don't you think?"
You wanted to be honest and say you couldn't tell the difference from last week's, but that wouldn't make time pass any easier.
"Why yes mother, compliments to the cook. I am so glad today's hunting party was a success."
They always are, the forest is going to have trouble keeping up soon is what you didn't say.
"Well of course I must thank you, for taking such good care of my horse!" Scribs' father beamed, clearly having already downed too much wine. "I always say it's a shame you can't come hunting with us, we'd probably double in gains!"
"Nonsense," your mother cried. "It's enough that I even let Y/N have a pair of riding trousers. Especially now that my eldest is married, we need her for tea time!"
The worst part of it all was you weren't allowed to look away from everyone watching the interaction, even though all you wanted to do was spit out your food and run.
You felt Scribs' hand sympathetically squeeze yours under the table, reminding you to breathe slowly.
The moment you were allowed to excuse yourself from the table, you rushed to your room and practically chucked your skirts off onto your bed and grabbed your riding pants. Your younger sister, who was curling her hair, didn't bat an eye.
Everyone knew where you ran off to after dinner.
---
"Josh, are you there?"
"You come here every night, your Highness. Of course I am."
You stood still, sensing his presence behind you, then turned around with your best fake-annoyance face. He was leaning against a post with a fond look to contrast.
"Let me guess, you miss your sister?"
You walked to the side and plopped yourself onto a haystack. "Always, but at least she's kept her promise to write often. I'm more upset with my mom."
"Ah, so that's what the topic is for today," Joshua half-joked, rubbing his palms together. "You want me to get a saddle or...?"
You shook your head, patting the hay next to you. Joshua nodded and sat down.
"Mom found out that we're only going to get to see my sis one more time before she officially moves away to live in Seungcheol's kingdom. So she's been smothering me even more with talks of marriage and being more 'princess-like' than before."
He knows that the best thing he can do is listen but he wishes he could do more. You look up at him and a pang goes through his heart seeing that all too familiar look in your eyes - the one that shows how desperate your free spirit has grown.
You sigh and sit up. "I don't know how to get through to Mom that I just...don't want to get married. To anyone. If I love somebody, why do I need to prove it to anyone? Scribs is optimistic, though, since she saw my sister end up loving Cheol but I never felt like I had to find another half like she did."
As you rambled, Joshua slowly scooted closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying to get his heartrate to slow down so he could focus on yours.
"Have you heard from your sister recently?"
"I got a letter from her the other day but I haven't gotten around to sending one back yet."
"Well, how about we do that right now, then? You can send it by bird in the morning."
You gave Joshua a little smile that would have made anyone melt. "Good idea, I'll go grab some paper and ink."
Joshua sprang up eagerly. "No please, let me. I'll be quick!"
That made you laugh, genuinely. "Let's go together."
Once the two of you had returned to the stables with what you needed, albeit panting since you'd narrowly dodged the cook in a hallway, you sat down with a book in your lap so you would have a hard surface to write your letter on.
Joshua began tending to the last routine he had to do for the day before he could prepare for bed.
"'My dear sister...'" You hummed and whispered as you wrote the letter carefully.
You didn't notice Joshua glancing at you every so often - he thought it was cute the way your face scrunched up when you were trying your hardest to think of what to say.
"Careful," Joshua said, suddenly rushing over with his hand flapping. "You wouldn't want any bugs to smudge the ink."
You laughed, trying to wave away a fly that'd been circling you. "Thanks, Josh. I'll just finish the letter in my room."
"You don't want to take a walk with me tonight?"
"Sorry maybe tomorrow, I want to take my time in the bath today." You stood up to brush the hay off your clothes, which kept you from seeing the blush on his face when you said that. "Have a good rest!"
"You too," Joshua said as you left, trying not to feel disappointed.
"Yikes," a voice said from behind, making Joshua jump and whip around. "You sure got it bad."
Joshua huffed. "Hansol, right? Do you usually make a point to startle people?"
The apprentice blacksmith grinned with amusement. "Just call me Vernon. And I'm glad to see I'm not alone in...having forbidden feelings."
Joshua exhaled again, this time with the sound of defeat. "Would you like to take a walk with me instead?"
Vernon laughed and patted Joshua on the back. "Sure, just don't blow your nose on me."
---
"When are you gonna tell him, Keys?"
Your younger sister asked you that question often so at first, you didn't respond.
"Hello?? I didn't stay up waiting for you to finish bathing only to talk about nothing?"
You kept brushing your hair and sighed. "For the last time, I don't know. Probably never."
"Right, as if you're the type to keep your eyes off the prize."
"You don't have any more of a choice in this life than I do," You replied indignantly, setting your hairbrush down.
"You're not the oldest. If you don't try to break the rules in this family, what hope is there for the rest of us?"
"Wh-what's that supposed to mean?"
She suddenly looked embarrassed and cleared her throat.
"All I'm saying is...it's not like you to give up on something without a fight. And now that our big sister is married you have a chance to get Mom's full attention to what you want."
"We all know she's gonna say no," you groaned, sitting down on your bed.
"We also all know that you've been in love with the stableboy forever. And between us two is a prince, not another princess. This is your chance."
"I appreciate the encouragement but Josh isn't even close to nobility. It'd be different if he was a duke or even a viscount."
"Y/N, you literally wear pants every night. I didn't know you cared so much about what others think of you."
You were silent at that. Your sister was right, and you loved your baby sister. You were also tired.
"You got anything else to throw at me before I go to sleep?"
She pondered for a moment before answering. "I'm worried about Scribs. I overheard a maid say she's getting betrothed soon."
"I hope he isn't ugly."
"Hey, play nice. She, like you, only has eyes for someone out of reach. But you outrank her."
You abruptly sat up in your bed. "...wait really?"
Your sister, who was laying in her bed on her side facing you, raised her eyebrows. "Wh-you didn't know?"
"... I guess I'll have to go riding with her soon."
---
"So...you and the blacksmith's apprentice?"
Scribs nearly choked.
It had been a few days since you and your younger sister spoke. You hadn't received another letter from your older sister and your mother was out in the kingdom today with your father. You suggested to your friend a stroll with your horses through the palace gardens and she'd agreed.
"I know he and Joshua have been acquainted but it was little sis who mentioned it."
"How are you and Joshua?"
Changing the subject, huh? You steadied Copper so you could look Scribs in the eye as she steadied her own horse.
"Listen, I don't want to disappoint anyone but I also don't want to watch Joshua marry some maid one day in silence. I need some ideas and you're the most creative person I know."
Scribs gulped. "You're not just asking for a way to rewrite your story, Keys. You could end up burning it entirely, for the both of you. Have you thought about telling him how you feel first?"
"..."
Your friend reached out for your hand, seeing your torn expression. "Maybe you should start there. Before it's too late."
Your inability to muster up the courage was unbearable.
You knew it'd be suspicious if you suddenly stopped spending time with Josh in the evenings but at the same time, every minute more spent with him the pain only grew.
A few nights after your outing with your sister's lady-in-waiting, you and Joshua were tending to the horses before bed as usual.
"Y/N," Joshua suddenly said, breaking what had been minutes productive silence.
"Hm?" You replied, not meeting his eyes.
"When your sister comes back for her belongings and the rest of the dowry, will you be allowed to help me with her husband's entourage? They're bringing quite a few carriages and I heard each will have four horses."
You paused. It hadn't occurred to you that no one had yet mentioned what your schedule would be when your sister comes back.
"I don't know yet. I'd like to, but I should probably spend more of my time with her."
"I figured as much," Joshua shrugged. "I know I've said this before but I'm glad you have such a big family that you're close with."
On the outside you smiled and nodded but on the inside you wanted to cry. "Josh...I..."
"Yeah?"
"..."
Joshua set aside the rake he'd been holding and stepped in front of you.
"Is everything okay, Y/N?"
When you looked up into his eyes, seeing the warm color and caring expression, you felt like the whole world had come to a standstill. That it was just you, and him, and you could be safe.
You opened your mouth, then closed it. You looked away and pulled a bit of hay out of your sleeve.
"I'm okay. I was just gonna say that..." Come on Y/N, tell him.
You looked back at him. "...we're all happy and grateful you're here."
You couldn't do it.
Joshua was dense enough to not know why you were acting so nervous, but he wasn't so dense that he couldn't tell you weren't feeling like yourself.
"That's touching of you to say, Y/N. I'm glad, too. Just remember...you can tell me anything."
He especially knew something wasn't right when you only nodded in response and didn't speak again for the rest of the night.
---
The night before your sister returned, your parents asked if they could speak with you after dinner.
It's not like you could have said no so you waited in your room for them as they said. Your younger sister wasn't there so it was just you sitting on your bed, everything quiet.
When your parents walked in, the king stood by the door and your mother sat facing you on a nearby chair. She spoke first.
"Y/N, we have some news for you. The king and queen of the neighboring kingdom are inviting us to visit their castle in a month's time. They want us to bring you so you can meet their three sons."
You knew this day would come. But the night before your sister came back?
Your father looked cheerful. "We thought you might be more comfortable with the idea if you could have options and meet them first. And they have plenty of horses ..."
Everything became blurry as you sat there as still as a statue.
You had to hand it to your parents, it was clever of them to spring this on you now. If you were to act out now or anytime during the next week, you wouldn't disappoint your parents nearly as much as you would break the hearts of all of your siblings.
"...of course we won't be announcing anything until after your sister has safely moved to her new home. We just wanted to tell you now so..."
Everything stayed a blur until your parents finally finished, hugged you, and left.
The lonely silence of your room was deafening.
You had to think fast.
So...only your parents knew about this so far. Your younger sister wasn't coming on the trip so this occasion had been tailored for you. Your sister and Seungcheol were arriving tomorrow before dinner.
...This was going to be agony.
"Where is your sister?" Scribs was panicking. "I can't find Y/N anywhere and no one has seen her since breakfast."
The youngest princess looked confused. "What do you mean, no one's seen her? Have you asked the cook? She can't be out riding, Joshua's busy in the stables from Seungcheol's carriages."
"Even the cook has no idea."
"...Okay, that's bad."
The two girls tried their best to keep an eye out but the king and queen had sent out too many orders to get done.
An hour later, the younger princess had a moment to go back to her shared bedroom to see if she could find any clues.
She frantically spun around until she saw that Y/N's perfectly made bed had a divet in the blanket. Anyone else would have missed it but the younger princess had lived out of the room long enough to know the maids never leave until everything is spotless.
She knelt down into her petticoats to observe and saw the tiniest corner of paper sticking out from under Y/N's pillow.
At her wit's end, the younger princess shoved the pillow away and unfolded the paper. It was a letter addressed to whoever found it first.
---
"JOSHUA!"
It was Vernon. He was running towards the stables holding a piece of paper.
Joshua stumbled out, still holding the reins of one of the last horses he needed to find room for.
"What's going on, are you okay?"
Vernon gave Joshua the paper. It had the youngest princess' handwriting. It read:
Joshua, Y/N is missing. You need to find her as soon as possible.
Joshua looked at Vernon, whose face was just as pale.
"Her Highness passed it to me while rounding a corner so no one would see."
Joshua immediately turned and ran, with Vernon on his heels.
In the stall where Copper was supposed to be stood a different horse that only looked similar from an angle. It was one of Prince Seungcheol's.
She must have made the switch when the servants were eating.
Vernon put his hand on Joshua's shoulder to get his attention.
"I have to get back inside but good luck. You only have so many hours left before dinner."
Joshua nodded, then tucked the note into his pocket.
You thought you were fine.
At first, the escape had been exhilrating.
The moment you'd made it out of the kingdom, you had put your hood down, got Copper running, and let your hair and the cape of your cloak fly behind you.
You had felt free, one with the wind, like you could conquer the whole world. No courtiers, suffocating dresses, or bitter tea.
Just you, laughing into the open air.
The truth was you had no idea where you were going.
Maybe you could make it to a kingdom far enough away and become a nun. You could disguise yourself as a boy and tend to horses on a farm.
The sound of thunder in the distance made you realize how stupid your plan was to run away.
You slowed Copper down, taking in the solitude one more time, before you got Copper to turn around and start riding back towards your kingdom.
You weren't backtracking on your intentions you just...needed a change in plan. Maybe you could hide yourself in one of your sister's trunks when she left. Something, anything.
As the sky grew grayer overhead, you urged Copper to go faster. You'd passed a barn on the way where maybe you could wait out the storm.
Miles away, Joshua was on horseback trying to outrun the approaching storm. To avoid suspicion, he'd taken his father's hat and coat.
He knew there was only way out of the kingdom without passing through the village and upon making it out, he figured you would head in the direction opposite of Prince Seungcheol's kingdom.
That was about the smartest thing he could see that you'd done so far. What had you been thinking, running off into the countryside on a royal horse?
As he felt the rain start soaking through his hat, Joshua knew he'd have to find shelter before his supplies got soaked or his lantern went out.
He had no idea the empty barn he would find was the same barn that you were aiming for as well.
As you approached from the distance, you noticed the glow of firelight coming from the barn. You figured if it was a property owner, you could pay for permission to rest there if needed.
Inside the barn, Joshua heard the sound of a horse approaching. The moment he reached the door was when you'd slowed Copper down enough to walk through.
The two of you met eyes and stood still for what felt like too long. You felt the iron grip of fear strangle your heart as you forced yourself to process that what was happening was actually happening.
Then a clap of thunder startled Copper, making you almost fall off.
"Woah!" Joshua rushed forward to steady you, taking Copper's reins.
You brushed him off and threw your hooded cloak on the ground as he looped the reins around a post.
You all but shouted as you wiped rainwater off of your face. "What are you doing here??"
Joshua felt a strange surge of anger rise in him. "What am I doing here?! You're supposed to be in the palace! In what world did you think SWAPPING YOUR HORSE OUT to run away was a good idea??"
Your ears popped as you yelled back, "You don't live in my world, Josh! You could never understand-"
"You're right, I don't understand. You choose the night your sister and her new husband get BACK FROM THEIR HONEYMOON to disappear and risk your father sending out troops to find you?!"
"What if I wanted to be found by the troops??"
"THAT MAKES EVEN LESS SENSE!"
The two of you stood there breathing heavily at each other for a few moments before Joshua yelled "Did you even think about how worried I'd be??" at the same time as you yelling "I was running away from you!"
Silence.
"...What?"
Joshua's eyes were wide, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I..." You crumpled to the ground, tears bursting out of your eyes. Joshua immediately rushed over to sit down next to you and bring you into an embrace. He felt a pang in his heart when you flinched.
"...I'm such an idiot," you sobbed.
"It's okay," Joshua whispered. "I'm here for you. It's going to be okay."
And for a little while you stayed that way. Just crying it out in the arms of your best friend with the roar of heavy rain outside.
"Y/N..." Joshua tried to get you to look at him, but you couldn't move. "Please tell me...what happened? Are you in danger? I promise I won't judge or anything I just...I need to know why."
You had to take a few deep breaths. Joshua took out a flask of water he'd brought for you to drink from.
"Yesterday...my parents...they told me that the neighboring kingdom wants me to visit and meet their heirs...in a month..."
Joshua felt like someone had just clawed a hole through his chest and into his throat. He knew this day would come but the timing...
"Josh...I haven't been completely honest with you...and I'm sorry," you whispered. He gently took your hand, making you flinch again.
"I..." The words caught in your throat. But you realized you had to say them. It was time.
All of the years of pain, the moments that continued to overflow your brain's padlocked chest surrounded in sharp edges - it all led to this moment.
"...I love you, Joshua. I have since the day we met."
You felt Joshua freeze against you. You weren't sure what to do so you continued to speak.
"I wasn't being completely honest when...I said I don't want to marry. The only person that I could ever-"
Joshua took your face in his hands and cut you off with a kiss.
If it wasn't for the fact you were shivering from getting rained on before, you would have passed out right then and there. But you didn't and could feel everything.
Joshua's warm and broad body, his soft lips, his strong heartbeat-you melted into him, completely helpless. The two of you would have stayed like that forever if you didn't need to resurface for air.
"That was...my first..." you felt your eyes grow watery again, this time from relief.
"Mine too," Joshua whispered. "I love you too, Y/N. I always have."
The world stayed still as you held each other, gazing into each other's eyes. He studied your face with so much adoration, brushing away your tears as gingerly as he would pet a kitten.
When he noticed you were still shivering, he wrapped his coat around you and brought you further into the barn to cuddle next to his lantern.
"So..." You eventually said. "You didn't read my letter?"
Joshua blinked at you. "What letter?"
You looked down and Joshua watched as your face turned from confused to completely stony.
"Ah. So it was my sister who set this up."
Joshua couldn't stop himself from laughing. At first you looked mortified, but with one well-timed snort from Joshua, you started laughing too.
After things grew quiet again, you tried to clear your mind a bit.
"What do we do now?"
Joshua thought about it for a moment, then pressed a kiss into your hair.
"I know we will figure it out. Together."
a/n: 🎶the fic i couldn't write, this is what it sounds liiikkkeeeeeeeeee🎵
Pairing: ceo!Lee Jihoon/Woozi x bodyguard!female reader
World-building from my Villain DK one shot and my CEO Joshua fic.
Word Count: ~6.3k
Genres/Warnings: use of Y/N 2nd person, sci-fi au, tech empire au, non-idol au, reference to death, romance will come later, action scene, awkward convo, slow burn, some swearing, Jihoon is kinda going through it, he's nonchalant, daddy issues if you squint, other svt members are here, skz reference, reader is a tad older than Woozi, “refuge cafes” = “Plaza system”
Ceo world taglist: @fabulaee @laaylaazyy
Lee Jihoon had you hired as his personal bodyguard because you were well trained in what you did, but he’d kept you for your diligence. Your muscle memory had saved Jihoon's life a number of times, only a few of which he’d combined his in tandem.
You were also quiet, unquestioning. Never expressed a single ounce of discomfort towards uniforms, meeting attendance, food, etc.
In your mind it was just part of the job. Personally guarding any of Sector 17’s keystones is an honor and upholding honor was rooted in your bones.
Jihoon keeps thousands of citizens safe. A stiff costume and clammy gloves were the least of your worries.
If anyone were to ask, you couldn’t say you knew your boss as a person much at all. You knew plenty of trivia about him. Everyone in a mile radius did. But you seldom spoke to each other about anything. Your job tended to be more like “Lee brother’s fly on the wall” on the daily.
It was in the dead of winter so work and, well, life, had been slow lately. Jihoon almost never left his room every other day of the year but in the colder months he was truly incognito. You were probably the only person in the world who had any idea what he did other than sleep (a bit).
The last time you saw Jihoon leave his room was to meet with Hong Co.’s CEO a few weeks ago. Their meetings were few and terse, and you usually stood outside of the door so you couldn’t hear anything important.
Today, however, things would change.
Jihoon’s companion Shubot, usually muted on his desk, spoke in full sentences for the first time in days.
“Lee Chan is at the door, sir. Should personnel be sent for?”
On the outside, you looked the same. Still, stoic, and always ready to pounce. On the inside, alarms were going off. The Shubot asking about personnel meant that not only was this visit unplanned, Chan had traveled here alone.
Jihoon was mostly unfazed. He stretched back in his desk chair and yawned. “Just let him in.”
A few minutes later, a frosty-cheeked Lee Chan tumbled through the door. As he closed it behind him, you glanced down the hall and saw the trail of melting snow he’d left.
Jihoon took Chan’s coat and hung it around his desk chair. “Do I want to know what you’re up to?”
Chan unceremoniously slumped onto the (messy) couch on the other side of the room. “Probably. Though should we call Shua in, too?”
“He doesn’t pick sides, remember?” Jihoon pulled a sweater out of his even messier closet to toss on.
“Well at least he still talks to me.”
“You know that in this city, that doesn’t make you special.” Jihoon ignored Chan’s pout as he sat back down at his desk, returning to whatever he’d been typing before.
“Jihoon, I’m not judging your shut-in lifestyle but you really ought to get one of your workers to clean this room.”
Jihoon kept his back turned. “I’m the only one who lives here, the only reason you’re seeing it is because I didn’t have the know-ahead to prep a meeting room.”
If it wasn’t for your track record for staying quiet unless spoken to, you would have piped up by then to ask if the Lee brothers wanted privacy. But suddenly Jihoon turned in his chair to face you.
“Y/N, are you okay with staying here? I can call for another guard to stand outside.”
You gestured that it was fine but if you wanted to speak the truth, you would have rushed outside immediately.
Chan gave you a polite bow of his head then turned back to Jihoon. “I've been informed that Seok has kept my most recent assassin alive...for months.”
Jihoon’s eyebrows raised. “Poor thing.”
“The superior who sent them gave them my most recent smart watch model instead of the usual. I fired them when I found out.”
Because of your background working for the Lee’s, you knew that wasn’t good news.
Chan’s military tech was good but hackable. The newer the model, the less upgraded security.
Not life-threatening for anyone but it explained the surge of refugees from the east side in the past year. It also explained why Chan wanted to deliver the information in person.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Jihoon said, tapping on his Shu-watch in a way that looked like he was drafting a message. “Armageddon isn’t coming anytime soon but we could have a strategy meeting with the governor.”
The governor. Unlike the Lee brothers, you had trained with Choi Seungcheol before “the incident” pushed him into politics.
“Any progress on observing District 9?” Chan asked, helping himself to a glass of water from a Shu-bot nearby - one of Joshua’s latest.
Jihoon paused, then nodded. “I took advantage of Seokmin’s distracted state and sent a cloaked drone past his tower. It sent me a few satellite images and I’ve sent bitty bots after it to be safe. Other bitty bots have been helping me gather gossip from the refugees that are still coming in due to Seok’s carelessness. In fact, Josh recently hired one that originally came from District 9.”
Chan’s eyebrows shot up. “He’s living with another human for once?”
“I wouldn’t think about it much, he’s always lived in his own little world. Safe in his tower. Now if there isn’t anything else, you should probably get back to your own tower before someone realizes you’ve gone.”
“But-”
“If you want to stick around longer next time, bring guards.” Jihoon grabbed Chan’s jacket and wrapped it around him. Chan looked upset.
“Jihoon, at least let me get you some food, or-”
“You’re my baby brother, Dino. Listen, I’m glad you’ve got your life now, and I’m proud of how you’ve grown. But you gotta be more careful, I thought I taught you better.”
---
A couple of days after that interaction, Jihoon had the sudden urge to take a stroll through the area that surrounded his home, The Woozi Plaza. As always when there’s a blue moon and Jihoon leaves the building, you follow him closely but not too close. You wore a scarf around your neck and half your face - instead of your usual mask - to protect from the cold.
Jihoon’s arms swung freely at his sides as he walked and a small, coordinated swarm of bitty bots flew around him. You, on the other hand, kept your dominant hand close to your hip and your other arm relaxed.
You took pride in your quick reflexes and refined spatial awareness but reading your boss’ body language has never been easy. You certainly weren’t expecting Jihoon to take a detour in his usual route. But you followed him without a question or hitch.
When you realized where he was heading, you felt your shoulders tense.
There was a memorial to Jihoon’s parents at the heart of the oldest neighborhood in the Plaza, on the farthest end of the south side. The Sector 17 walls could be seen in the distance.
It had been years since Jihoon visited the memorial, you knew. Back then he had a different bodyguard.
As you approached, you noticed Jihoon taking in his surroundings. Beforehand he’d walked the whole way with his eyes straight ahead.
You felt terrible for him.
No one could ever forget the incident - “the day The Sun fell and left Perpetual Dusk.” No one could ever forget the death, the terrible destruction, the remaining buildings crowded with survivors who had lost everything.
Including you.
Jihoon bowed to the stone pillar, murmuring a prayer under his breath. He turned to look at you and you knelt down.
“Uh, Y/N?”
Still kneeling, you tilted your head up in response.
“You don’t have to do that.”
You blinked. “Oh.” You got up and brushed yourself off.
Jihoon smiled at you. “I appreciate it, though.” He gestured for you to walk closer to him, surprising you. The coast was clear, so you obliged.
“‘In loving memory…’” It was the first line written on the monument but Jihoon wasn’t even looking at it to read it, he knew the writing by heart. You continued to stand quietly.
“I don’t miss my father.”
Your body didn’t move but your eyes widened. Jihoon continued to speak.
“I didn’t hate him, and I’m not happy he’s gone. But I’m not sad, either.”
You really didn’t know why Jihoon was saying all of this out of the blue.
“My brothers…even now, they’re still in mourning.”
And then he turned around and started walking away. In the split second it took for you to register his movement and automatically follow him again, you saw two bitty bots leave the formation around Jihoon and fly the other way, past the monument and towards the walls.
---
Back at headquarters, in Jihoon’s room, he wordlessly used his Shu-bot to order his dinner from one of the refuge cafes that were built into his building. You calculated the time he was taking to do so was longer than he usually takes.
Before you could squint too hard, though, Jihoon turned in his chair to look at you.
“I ordered extra in case you’d like to share with me today?”
Out of all of the shocking events of the day, that one finally took the cake. You felt your jaw drop.
“Sir-” You swallowed to recompose yourself. “If… that’s what you’d like, then of course.”
“Cool. I hope chicken is fine.” With that, he spun right back around.
You stood there feeling the least like yourself you’d felt in a while. Huh?
“Oh and Y/N,” Jihoon added, simultaneously pulling up a holographic screen to review what looked to be blueprints. “There’s nothing I have planned left for the day. You should wash up before dinner.”
You were a tiny bit relieved amidst your bewilderment. You walked into the bathroom of Jihoon’s room, then through the door on the other side of the bathroom, into your living quarters. Every morning you made your bed and set out your evening wear folded on top to save time at night. It took a while to lock up all firearms, due to the tight security protocols Jihoon had on everything.
At that moment it was rather early for you to be changing into what were pretty much your pajamas but you didn’t mind. You would still have your weapons and communication tech on you but no warrior costume or tight gloves.
When the food arrived, Jihoon had you sit next to him on his couch. You sat as close to the edge as you could, visibly uncomfortable. If Jihoon noticed, he didn’t show it. He leisurely took bites of his fried chicken as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Then his watch beeped.
“Oh…Joshua is calling. Give me a minute.” Jihoon wiped his face and fingers with a napkin, tossed it at a trash bin (a Shu-bin, so it sprouted a robot arm to catch the napkin), and walked out into the hallway, leaving the door ajar. You instinctively got up to stand guard by the doorway.
Whatever they were talking about, you weren’t listening. You looked down at your socks and recalled back when you were first chosen to be Jihoon’s new bodyguard, hand-picked by Chan. You'd been told you were the first female bodyguard he’s ever had.
When you first met Jihoon, he barely gave a formal introduction. He just said, “Chan said you’re the best of the bunch, that way is your room, familiarize yourself with my surroundings and always listen to your gut.”
You hadn’t even met him in a meeting room or anything. You’d been brought right to his master bedroom, where he’d just been wearing casual clothes and mis-matched socks, tinkering away at whatever was on his desk.
You were so used to looking through files on DK or observing Chan’s eloquence when enthusiastically organizing business that you never would have guessed the famed genius Lee Jihoon lived like…this.
Not that you were judging.
You could never complain about a cushier job. But part of you missed the rush and noise of training with your comrades by day and busting underground organizations funded by DK by night.
When Jihoon walked back into the room, you opened and closed the door for him before joining him back on the couch.
“Joshua Hong wants to meet with me tomorrow at his tower, the hovercraft floor.”
You nodded, hiding your slight nervousness. You weren’t afraid, of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d ever guarded Jihoon in a vehicle. But it was the first time it had happened in the winter. Whatever the meeting was about must be important.
“May I ask you something, Y/N? Not as your boss but as a person?”
You tilted your head at him in confusion. Jihoon let out a huff.
“Am I really becoming a slob?”
You bit back a laugh. “Uh…no sir, I don’t think so.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“No, seriously, I think you’re going to be okay.” At the continued doubt in his face, you added, “...for now.”
Jihoon didn’t move his body but the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Okay.”
The two of you finished the food in silence before Jihoon addressed you again. “I don’t usually get to see you in anything other than your uniform.”
“Hm?” You glanced at him, then adjusted the hem of your shirt. “Oh, uh, yeah.”
“The clothes you’re wearing really suit you.”
You froze for a moment, hoping he didn’t notice your involuntary blush. “Th-thanks, sir.”
“I’m going to wrap up for the night. I suggest you do too for the day ahead.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You practically sped to your room with a quick “goodnight”.
A compliment. He’d given you a compliment. You’d been trained since early teens how to sleep lightly but tonight, even after your entire pre-rest routine, including a whole shower, you laid there wide-eyed.
---
You started the morning the same as you always did.
Get up fast, strap on your weapons, make the bed, do a few stretches, then a quick workout. Set out clean clothes and make sure your teeth are clean.
You knew the fastest ways to get in and out of any of your clothing but for some reason today your arms felt heavy putting on your formal uniform.
No time to think about it, you told yourself, brushing the feeling off. You needed to guard Jihoon in his last hour of sleep. Normally that’s when you’d do your morning workout but today was a travel day.
Fast forward past breakfast, securing Jihoon in his vehicle, getting yourself checked over for any missed equipment, and zipping over the rooftops of Sector 17.
As per protocol, you were positioned in the back of the pod-shaped vehicle on a platform separated from Jihoon inside by a glass door. The driver and another guard were in the front.
The route to Hong Tower was one you knew pretty well and it was secure - it didn’t cross through any territory but Joshua’s and Jihoon’s. So you allowed yourself a moment to take in the view.
You’d always preferred the cold air over signs of summer and today there was only a little bit of snowfall. The vehicle wasn’t moving slow enough for snowflakes to stick to your mask but you did feel a few clumps kiss your cheeks.
The sheets of gray that hung in the sky over The City of Perpetual Dusk had almost no light peeking through today, emphasizing the glow of the city. As you left the south side moving west, you could see the twinkle of hundreds of Hong Co.’s delivery bots flying through the air.
You had just enough time to take a breath, before everything shook. The sound of an explosion not only snapped you out of it, you’d already launched yourself through the glass doors to protect Jihoon.
But you were flying towards an empty seat.
Kicking your legs up immediately to land on the seat with your feet, you looked down.
Shit.
Someone must have planned this attack - if a chunk of the floor had been blown up, that means the security measures programmed into that part of the pod had been previously messed with.
In the same nanosecond it took for you to realize that, you jumped down through the hole, activating your grappling hook. You saw the other guard and the driver on a rooftop below, the snow around them red.
You looked to your right and swung, breaking your fall onto a different snowy building with a somersault. You clicked your earpiece to call for backup as you began pursuit of the only large hovercraft you could see heading east.
For once running across slippery surfaces came in handy. You were able to catch up a lot quicker than you thought, given how uneven the rooftops in the north of the Plaza were compared to where you’d previously trained.
Once you could calculate the highest chance of success, you took as big of a leap as you could and aimed your grappling hook at the only edge you could see. You felt tension at the precise hit, used the leverage to launch yourself up, then re-aimed the grappling hook to swing you the rest of the distance.
You landed on the top of the vehicle, not giving whoever these people were a chance to shake you off. You had already grabbed your holographic weapon handle (Chan always jokingly called it his “lightsaber” weapon series) and you summoned the blade right between your feet.
A whole chunk of metal flew off - had your reflexes been any less snappy it could have sliced you - but you flipped up and out of the way then aimed your landing through the opening.
You registered the sight of Jihoon fighting for his life with someone dressed in a way you recognized - a DK mercenary. With a loud cry, you summoned your weapon, this time as a dagger, and took a swing.
You knew Jihoon would dodge out of the way but you weren’t expecting someone to grab you from behind.
Fuck, I should have sensed the driver-
Jihoon’s leg swung over your head and hook-kicked your assailant’s face.
“Nice,” You let out, and you and Jihoon’s backs met.
For the first time in a while, you found yourself, once again, amazed at Jihoon’s hidden athleticism and you aligned your fighting instincts with his, clearing him a path to the vehicle controls.
Fighting off Jihoon’s captors wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was overriding the captors’ vehicle just enough to get it to turn the other direction. Jihoon did his best with the hacking in the minute he had but Seokmin’s systems were iron-clad.
“Move over,” you shouted, swapping places. Jihoon fought to knock out the last of the mercenaries as you used your weapon handle and brute strength to damage the steering component. You got it to turn the hovercraft maybe 30 degrees southeast.
Which is all you needed.
You tapped your wrist and heard a series of beeps through your earpiece, indicating the exact position the air support you’d called for was in relation to you. You ran towards Jihoon and shot the lock of the vehicle’s side door with your electric gun.
“Brace yourself!” You yelled as you wrapped your arms around Jihoon from behind and jumped backwards. Your uniform protected your back from the force of impact that made the door crater open and you fell through the air, feeling the sting of cold all around you.
If Jihoon needed to scream from vertigo, you didn’t give him a chance. With one last well aimed grappling hook, you swung the two of you from a rooftop to redirect your landing direction and made a perfect landing into a crash cushion.
The cushion lowered, flipped around so you and Jihoon were secure inside the military hovercraft surrounded by backup, and you heard the vmmmm sound from up top of the ceiling sliding over the cushion.
As you felt the craft accelerate and watched the other guards tend to Jihoon, you let out a huge sigh. Safe and sound.
---
“So…" You managed between gulps of water. "I’m guessing the meeting’s cancelled.”
Jihoon nodded wordlessly.
You’d just gotten back to headquarters. The driver and guard who’d been tossed and injured had been brought back separately and were being treated.
Comms coming through your devices told you where to lead Jihoon for food, rest, and security. But you stayed as alert as you could.
Before the doors to the most central refuge cafe opened, Jihoon turned to face you and bowed.
“Thank you for saving my life. Again. I’m ever grateful to have you by my side.”
You didn’t get to respond to the…wording of that sentence. And maybe you were too alert.
The instant the doors behind Jihoon opened and you saw an unexpected figure, you pointed your gun. Then you saw who it was.
From your hesitation, Jihoon also figured out who it was.
He didn’t even turn around to see that cat-like smile he knew all too well and tried not to sound weary as he spoke.
“Hey, Josh.”
“Good to see you in one piece, Woozi.”
As you followed Jihoon in, Joshua Hong gave you a warm, handsome smile. His pristine appearance was in stark contrast to Jihoon's disheveled clothes and scrapes.
You nodded politely and, as the two men sat down in a secure and private booth, you took your position by the exit.
“Your bodyguard here possesses mighty talent, to have rescued you from a situation with such stacked odds.”
You remained as you were but on the inside you felt warm from the praise. Especially so as Jihoon nodded with gusto, regarding you highly.
“Chan chose me the best. But that means Seokmin must have known the only way he could get even close to catching me was through tech.”
Josh crossed his legs and held his wrist hand out. One of Jihoon’s bitty bots projected a holographic replica of Jihoon’s damaged hovercraft.
“I take back what I said to you all that time ago - it was a good precaution to bring some of my bitty bots with you when you’re about. Seok must really not have wanted us to meet for him to have gone as far as attempting to murder your crew. I made preparations to get here the minute I received an alert.”
Jihoon looked away from the image, wincing. Joshua dismissed the bot.
“But, Jihoon, I’m still worried for you. It’s not even spring yet and you’re worse for wear.”
“I thought you like staying neutral, Josh.”
“My AI’s analysis of home tech Seokmin recently traded in to me indicates reason to suspect that his aggressive behaviors have grown worse, and quickly. It’s only a matter of time before he invents a reason to turn on me, too.”
Jihoon swiped a few times at his watch then held it up to a bitty bot. Then he deactivated the bot and handed it to Josh, who tucked it into a pocket inside his suit.
“That’s all the data I can give you for now. It's a shame we can’t meet again for a while.”
“I don’t consider this a victory for Seok or anything,” Joshua said as he began to stand from his seat. “Even if he succeeded in getting us to cut contact for a while from today on, we still got to meet first.”
“Good luck, Shua.”
---
That night you had a pilates session in your room for yourself and it was somber. It did feel good to be out of your gear but the shock from the day’s impromptu mission lingered in your limbs.
At least you hadn’t sustained any injuries, unless the chafing on your arm from somersaulting counted.
You knew Jihoon was taking it easy tonight and outside of his door, there was a rotation of extra guards going, just to be as thorough as possible. So you took the time to focus on what you could, which was keeping yourself in shape.
At some point you walked into the bathroom to wash your face. Then you heard a knock from Jihoon’s door to the bathroom. You opened it, knowing you would see Jihoon in his pajamas, but your eyes still widened.
The drawn look on his face was not what you were expecting.
“Y/N.” Jihoon looked you right in the eyes when he spoke your name, using his clearest and most sincere voice.
“Hello, sir?” You knew Jihoon wasn’t used to a life of action, at least not anymore, but no amount of being trained to expect the unexpected could have prepared you for what he said next.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way…but…I’d feel a lot safer if you slept in my room tonight.”
What. In the actual. Tarnation.
Never in your life, nevermind your time working for this man, had so many things out of the ordinary happened in the span of a few days.
Seeing your poorly masked expression of being so taken aback, Jihoon backtracked.
“Sorry I…you don’t have to do anything-”
“N-no, it’s okay. I just…do you mean…on your floor? Or…?”
“Oh! Oh, no, um…you know what, it’s fine I-”
“Sir, I’ll just take the couch.”
Jihoon blinked, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah that’s…that’s what I meant. Thanks.”
You nodded, then turned on your heel to get to your room to prepare.
Two nights in a row you’d found reason to speedwalk to your room out of shock.
Please for the love of all things good was this man had not been implying he wanted to…sleep in the same bed. As you. That wasn’t just toeing the line of a professional relationship, he’d practically just launched a tactical nuke.
But you got yourself to do it. You set up your blanket and pillow to sleep on the couch and only let yourself start to rest once you were sure Jihoon had fallen asleep.
In the middle of the night, the sound of Jihoon struggling perked your ears.
You practically leaped off the couch, reaching for your knife. But there was no one else there.
In the dark you saw Jihoon tossing and turning under his covers. He was whimpering and a single tear glinted in the glow of the nearby tech.
You grabbed onto Jihoon, trying to shake him awake. When he finally opened his eyes, you felt a jab of sorrow slice through you. He looked as if he was…crumbling.
He suddenly wrapped his arms around you, catching you off guard entirely. You tried not to feel awkward as you patted his back.
“You’re safe now,” you whispered, getting him to look at you. “Nightmares are awful, I know.”
“Please don’t go…”
You felt caught off guard again. “O-of course. I’m here.”
You slowly lowered Jihoon back first onto his bed and adjusted his blanket. You laid on your side watching as he drifted off back to sleep.
When you woke up the next morning, you remembered where you were with a jolt.
For the first time in years, you had overslept. Not only that, in Lee Jihoon’s bed. But he wasn’t there anymore. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere in the room at all.
You jumped and rushed out the door, only to be met with the face of one of the rotation guards. You looked down at yourself and turned bright red.
The guard also blushed in embarrassment and stammered “Good morning, uh, um, th-the boss said to tell you to check with the companion bot on his desk.”
“Thanks,” you croaked as you shut the door and went to do…that.
Jihoon’s Shubot gave you brief notes - including an explanation that he woke up sooner than not after you fell asleep and you could take all the time you wanted to get ready and eat today before reporting back for duty.
You would have figured as much on your own, frankly. Jihoon must really think you were going to quit or something over an accidental sleepover.
But then the memory of him embracing you, crying into your shoulder, and begging you to stay with him resurfaced in your mind and you flushed red again.
If you carried yourself with any less dignity, you’d be back in your room screaming into your pillow right now.
Instead, you took some deep breaths to clear your mind.
That's right.
You'd done your duty; protecting Lee Jihoon at all costs, and you would continue to do so as instructed. And the current instructions were to take your time.
When you were finally all refreshed and ready, you found Jihoon in the same refuge cafe as yesterday right as he was finishing lunch.
You saluted, not meeting his eyes. “Reporting for duty, sir.”
Had you looked him in the eyes, you would have noticed his cheeks tinting the slightest bit pink. But you didn’t.
“I wanted to thank you in person for…comforting me. Last night. I apologize that…you had to see me…like that.”
A lot of firsts were going to happen this week, huh? For the first time, you made a point to look straight at Jihoon to give your response, and you left nothing unsaid.
“No need to be sorry at all. I’m glad I could be there for you.”
Jihoon’s expression was hard to read, which wasn’t out of the ordinary - what you weren’t expecting was the furrow of his brows. It was slight, but to your trained eye, it showed you exactly how vulnerable he was feeling.
And just as quick as you noticed, it went away.
The rest of the day went as if nothing had changed. You could live with it and understand. But things were too different this time.
You had no idea Jihoon struggled from night terrors, in all this time you’d worked for him. You were surprised you’d never picked up on anything of the sort.
Was your shared bathroom really that sound-proof? No, that would defeat the purpose of you sleeping so close to your boss.
'Sleeping so close…'
You were currently back in Jihoon’s room and the very sight of the pillow you’d rested on made your face grow warm.
Get it together, Y/N. You couldn’t let anything cloud your mind. If your senses dulled even the slightest bit from what you were capable of, you’d be unfit for your job.
Jihoon’s voice cut through to you suddenly.
“You seem stiff today, Y/N. Are you okay?”
Since when did he know you so well? He’d barely turned in his chair.
You blinked. “Yes, sir.”
“Just call me Jihoon.”
...Now what could you say to that?
“O-of course.”
Shoot. You used to be so good at hiding your surprise.
“I mean, look. Yesterday I did actually think I was done for. I’d regret it if I didn’t make my respect for you clearer.”
You pursed your lips, then let them smile. Just a little.
---
Things grew quiet again at headquarters for some time after. Which was good - the winter winds outside weren’t letting up as easily this year and while you didn’t mind the cold as much as Jihoon, you still had your limits.
Unbeknownst to Jihoon, you’d rearranged the furniture in your room. It was clear from the scratch patterns on the floor that you were the first to do so in many years. You wanted your ears as close to the door as possible when you slept so that you’d never miss a thing again.
It only occurred to you how much seeing Jihoon in a weak state had affected you when it happened again.
Sort of.
It was a random afternoon where you accompanied Jihoon out on a walk in the Plaza. He usually sends messages to his forces digitally when anything isn’t running smoothly but today he had to receive a message in person.
Yesterday, one of the refuge cafe owners picked up on chatter about the sighting of a person of interest.
That was how Jihoon described it, at least. You knew that there was no way this wasn’t connected to his research into District 9.
Upon arrival, you took your position outside of the private room Jihoon walked in to speak with the informants. You had to in case anyone tried to intercept. The room had already been checked thoroughly for listening devices so the only other way in would be through you.
Except the meeting didn’t get to go on for that long.
Not even ten minutes in, you heard muffled sounds of a commotion through the door. You instinctively kicked it open, only to see the cafe owner unconscious on the ground and Jihoon next to her, doing compressions.
“Y/N call for backup, she’s not breathing.”
As you spoke a series of codes into your earpiece, Jihoon was able to get the woman breathing again but her pulse was still weak.
Even though you knew it would all end up okay, you would never forget the look Jihoon had on his face. Not just now, but how he’d looked straight at you when he’d asked you to call for help.
You’d never seen Jihoon so distraught.
Maybe past bodyguards had, during the times everyone knew were hard on the Lee’s, but you’d never imagined this. You knew he cared for the citizens that lived or had ever lived in his Plaza, you knew how hard he worked even from his desk, but to see him genuinely scared for the lives of one of his people changed the way you felt about him entirely.
It all hit you then and there how much you’d grown to care about this man. It wasn’t like how you felt back when you first swore to protect him.
You wanted to shield his entire being from all harm.
You hadn’t felt fear like this since…
Since you, too, lost your family to the incident.
As headquarters medical staff rushed on the scene, you led Jihoon away by the arm to give them space. He was shaking, but his expression had steadied. He tapped his watch and typed on the projection quickly - you figured he was alerting someone to get things back in order for that woman’s cafe.
Later that night, Jihoon shared his dinner with you again.
This time you were far more comfortable with the notion and you were glad for another excuse to be in pajamas early.
Maybe, since he’d complimented you that one time, you’d been hoping for this. But you paid no mind to that thought and focused on Jihoon.
“The doctor I had checked before helping the lady earlier sent someone to tell me she’ll be making a full recovery. The new amounts of Plaza inhabitants have kept all the workers busier than usual. I wish I could sign a deal with Hong Co. to get all of the cafe owners health-tracking watches with central AI, maybe have a digitized way to streamline shift rotations, but in this dreary city that would look like the first draft of an alliance. I’ll have to take care of the extent of that idea myself.”
You chewed on your food thoughtfully. “For what it’s worth, Jihoon, I think it’s a great idea. And you have the personnel to make the process more efficient.”
“I'm too afraid Seokmin will intercept material somehow, if I don’t manage it alone. But thanks.”
Security in the Plaza was stronger than ever and Jihoon was still worried that Lee Seokmin could hack into civilian wristwatches? No wonder Jihoon always had you nearby.
Or maybe you were still around because Jihoon was more afraid of being alone with his own thoughts.
Two days later, Lee Chan came by for another visit. This time he brought guards and the two brothers spoke in a meeting room. Chan’s guards stood outside of the room and you were inside standing by the door.
“I met with Seungcheol the other day,” Chan said to begin the meeting. “I told him you’d been attacked recently on your way to Josh’s and you haven’t left your area since.”
Jihoon sighed heavily. “What else did you guys talk about?”
“The usual report. It doesn’t seem like Seokmin is planning anything major soon. But spring will be here eventually.”
Chan turned to look at you. You raised your eyebrows.
“You gotta leave some glory for the rest of us, Y/N. Breaking your own record like that - you rescued my brother in what, ten minutes? Five?”
You simply bowed in response, making sure it was a deep bow.
Chan turned back to Jihoon. “If you have any more refugees looking to train in my neck of the woods, Shua gave me an updated driver to send me their files through. His most secure one-way, two-person limit comms device yet.”
“As a matter of fact, I do have a new list to review,” Jihoon said, holding out his hand. Chan took the tiny device out of his inner pocket and placed it in Jihoon’s palm. “I can plug this thing in tomorrow, be on the receiving end at noon.”
The meeting went on for another twenty minutes before Chan made his departure. Then it was back to Jihoon’s room.
The next morning, Jihoon made a strange proposition to you.
“Would you like to join me on a jog up and down HQ before breakfast?”
“...Sure.”
The jog wasn’t totally silent. Every few minutes you checked in with Jihoon to make sure he stayed hydrated.
“How have you not broken a sweat?” Jihoon had asked you halfway.
You shrugged in response.
Towards the end, Jihoon called to you again "I'm thinking we get banchan after this, what do you think?"
"Sure, that sounds great," you called back with a smile.
Jihoon gave you a smirk back, genuinely making you think that the day was off to a great start.
As you both cooled down and stretched outside of a smaller cafe entrance, waiting for your food to be ready, you heard your watch make an unusual sound. You heard the same sound echoing from the guards around.
Maybe Jihoon was trying a new alert system for scheduling.
“What was that?” Jihoon asked you, sounding concerned.
You looked at him, confused. Then your eyes widened. You grabbed Jihoon by the arm, pummeling through the cafe doors to try and find a safe room to hide in.
Then everything went dark.
---
a/n: HOLY COW it’s been 2 whole years? Since I wrote “The Only Hong”??
Seriously guys I think I have problems, I literally wrote this on a whim and finished it in 2 days
I get notifications almost every day that people still heart the fics I’ve written and it’s kinda insane, thank you so much
The first action scene was inspired by Huntr/x "How It's Done" btw ^^ and of course a touch of Spider-Man
I would say stay tuned for pt. 2 coming soon or smth but to be totally fair i have no clue what i'll be doing in the coming weeks
Uhhhh I’m kind of a different person now than I used to be so this fic turned out WAY different than I originally imagined years ago and it's probably only gonna keep veering off-style from here
But whoever is reading this! I hope you enjoyed mwah <3
