Genre: smut, angst, fwb!au, bittersweet, betrayal
Pairing: Haechan x You
Rating: 18+
Summary: One year and two months, your best friend is dating this girl for a year and two months. And you keep this secret deep inside your gut. An addiction. A poison. A monster that hides in sheepskin. A secret no one dares to speak out loud.
What you may not realize is that maybe you share with Donghyuck something much bigger than a strange friendship.
And it all starts with a wicked kiss.
Word count: 5724
Requested? Yes!
This night, you decided you were going to forget about your diet. At least for tonight. So you took the biggest chip package you saw on the shelf and stuffed the basket, which was already full.
When you get to the cashier, you look at the boy with brown hair and caramel skin. He sighs. His expression does not look good.
“Is everything okay, Hyuck?” You ask.
He looks at you, as if realizing that he is there now. Right now. Not anywhere else, buying the equivalent of half a wage in food.
“Yeah, sure I am,” he smiles, but it’s not the same smile as usual.
You are right on top of the wall, and wherever you look, it is impossible to make a decision; get down and go your own way, or break into your neighbor’s lawn — that’s what’s been in your heart since your best friend started dating. Lee Donghyuck however never suspected things to go so hard for you. And, you always expected it to stay that way; away from his eyes so that the mask never falls off your face.
But it’s not easy, is it?
When the automatic door opens you’re the first to step out, swinging one of the two bags in your hand. The cool breeze pass through your hair, it’s a cold night when you and your best friend return in silence, all the way into the night.
“What movie are we going to watch?” You ask, part of your vision busy with the way forward, another part seeing Donghyuck right next to you.
“The one about that,” he says, emotionless
You feel that something is wrong with your best friend.
“What happened?”
Donghyuck sighs, right now he’s flashing a smile across the side of his cheeks: one of his smiles that you know means nothing but the opposite of happiness. But you can not see it. You do not want to see.
“Same as always,” he answers and you feel your heart sink deeper. Again, you see yourself on top of that wall. Paralyzed and unable to make a decision while watching your best friend sink “in the same as always.” Same as always who also answers for girlfriend. A year and two months, you found yourself on that wall. Being friends with both sides is not the easiest job, not when there is always that side that raises its nose and proclaims itself the center of the universe.
Things are not easy for people like you. Not at this moment when you hear him speak:
“She traveled, and doesn’t answer my messages.”
Things don’t seem to work right, not when you know that right now who should be making him happy is hurting him on purpose.
“I’m sure she must be busy,” you lie. You lie because deep down you can’t judge it. You are much worse. You’re as bad as a fairytale villain, aren’t you?
The truth is that you have been thinking about this for a while. This idea has been on your mind since the day your best friend’s girlfriend confessed to you that she “liked to make him sad sometimes; because boys like bad girls. ” And that stuck on your head.
First step.
The thought came up as, “Yes, Hyuck likes mean girls, you’re not wrong, girl…”
You entered Donghyuck’s apartment, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He held your waist to push you out of the way. You winced. The kitchen was very tight.
Second step.
The thought that followed was, “but you have no idea how wicked I can be, do you?”
Donghyuck sits on the carpet, turning on the television, the control is always his. The living room lights are off, and the only light source that illuminates both faces is from the kitchen and the television.
“Are you sure you want to watch this movie?”
“Are you afraid?” He smiles.
“Maybe,” you say, you’re not lying that much.
“So let’s go with this one.”
You get off the couch. Sits on the carpet. You can feel his warmth right beside you. Which makes you wonder how hot Donghyuck can naturally be.
“Hey,” he calls, causing your body to shake, “what would you do if you found a clown on the street coming home?”
“Let’s not start, Hyuck,” you counter.
“Well,” he shrugs. “It’s just a hypothesis.”
“You won’t be able to scare me like that” you smile, opening the first chip pack, the movie is starting, and soon your attention should drift to the dark world of a horror movie.
You feel his hand touch yours, briefly, a contact that lasted seconds. It is weird. He is acting strange. And you look weird too.
“I’m still waiting for the answer.”
You and Donghyuck have always had this connection. What does he think. What goes through his pupils. It is as if all of this could be transmitted through the air that separates his body from you, at this moment, when you realize that he is looking at you.
“Do you want to hear the true truth or do you want the cool answer?”
“You’re never cool,” he teases.
You do not smile.
“I would run back to your apartment” answering, you turn your attention to the movie, because that’s the way it has to be; without thinking too much, without thinking of those ideas that gradually take shape “and then I would offer you as a sacrifice in place of my soul.”
A pinch and you suppress an “ouch!” Before you hit him with your best look of “at least once in a lifetime don’t behave like a child.“
Normally, Donghyuck would continue to tease you. He would keep pinching you. Probably a pinching war would settle in that apartment. And would soon become a pillow fight. And then you both would forget about the movie…
This was what a movie night with Donghyuck should be like.
But not this time.
There was something strange about your best friend. Something even stranger than the time a pillow fight ended with an almost kiss. But that was so long ago. For so long that; When you notice this though, it is like a stranger entering your home.
A long-time you are no longer on the top of that wall. A long time ago, you already decided which way you wanted to go. And somehow, when Donghyuck got up to get the soda when the movie was paused and you watched him turn his back, you realized you had made that decision a long time ago…
It made you look mean. Terribly mean. Just like a fairytale witch. You had already decided to steal Donghyuck for yourself.
“Coke or…”
“Coke” you answer, to your surprise, everything happens too fast; he sits back next to you and it escapes from your mouth. "Are you hiding something?”
Which catches the boy off guard.
You can see through his eyes as he holds the soda can in hand, extended to you. The damp drops slide between the fingers.
“You know…” Hyuck sighs through his teeth; the voice sounds hoarser than usual “I haven’t had sex in a while.”
Your body shudders. You choke. It is a shock. It runs straight between your legs, which are pressed hard.
“Really?” There is nothing better to answer.
“Yep.” But Hyuck seems too comfortable with the subject, so comfortable that soon his chatty self begins to show his claws again. “I’ve tried a few times, but it doesn’t seem to work, not with her, and she says I must have an erection problem… this old people thing”
“You’re acting like an old man, Hyuck.”
A thread of despair seems to form in your friend’s expression.
You laugh, before blinking slowly, cheeks flushing, eyes gleaming in the dim light; Donghyuck notes all these details.
“But, Hyuck, maybe the problem is not with you.” This boldness that suddenly arises surprises you much more than surprises your friend, who gives you a slightly lost look. This lost look that seems to sink in an unknown direction.
“It’s what two people do when they like each other, isn’t it?” he asks. For a second. One-thousandth of a second. You feel Donghyuck’s eyes slide through your body. Through the way your blouse picks up shape around your breasts through the fabric. The way your denim shorts squeeze your soft thighs. For a second you feel that there is something behind this look that you cannot read.
It’s not the same boy who fights with you every day. Not the same boy you have known for so many years. Maybe you are wondering too much. And then you feel it’s not the same you as before. There is something really evil about it that doesn’t stop you. Not even a little.
“That’s what you want to do when you like someone,” you whisper, almost like a truth too frightening to say out loud.
His eyes remain connected with yours for too long. Then Donghyuck takes a deep breath, shakes his head as if shaking a thought. You wonder if, at the end of the day, he also has these same thoughts as you, at that particular moment, when your hand moves through those few inches that separate him from you. You pull the fabric of his shirt, your fingers sink, and his eyes slightly widen.
“Can I tell you a secret, Hyuck?”
“Yes?” He seems to hesitate. “Sure…”
You take courage. The heart speeds up. The fabric of her shirt sinks against the valley between your breasts. You want to show how wicked you can be. And then your good-friend mask is already on the floor…
“I think my panties are wet.” When the words slip from your mouth.
A little joke could come from his mouth. A laugh might follow. A mockery. But again… This is not the same Donghyuck, just as this is not the same you. When that little distance has narrowed between you two.
When he leaned toward you. When you felt the touch of his hand against the skin of your thigh.
“Do you want this?” He asked, low voice, hoarse.
The truth is that he can have that perfect view in his mind: of your wet panties. But that was so wrong.
So wrong that you nodded. A dumb yes. One of those you never really considered to say. Maybe because of the fear of the sentence imposed on you. But what sentence would be worse than the sentence of feeling the touch of your best friend’s hand sliding across your leg, rising toward your hip. Toward this dangerous region where the fabric of your shorts delimits what cannot be seen by anyone.
Donghyuck was never an “anyone”. You know this the moment your hand fits perfectly as if his fingers were made especially for you, especially to be there. The rough fabric of the jeans soon bothered you. And as if he could read your mind, with his free hand Donghyuck found the zipper of your shorts.
When his hand slipped inside your shorts, first there was the strangeness of the touch, you gasped, your body shuddered, and then; When he slipped his fingers inside your panties, you moaned.
“You’re soaking wet,” Hyuck whispered, moving his body closer, pulling your hips closer to his lap, you knew where this was going; dangerously, going where you wanted it most.
“Hyuck,” you called, a few seconds before he connected lips. The taste of that kiss was pure evil. When the saliva mixed, and deeply, with his fingers inside your pussy; it all tasted like the purest wicked kiss.
With his free hand, Donghyuck got rid of your shorts, and soon your panties were gone too. And while lips were still connected, he spread your legs, letting the cold hit your intimacy. You gasped as lips parted, when you felt his heavy breath against your neck, leaving a kiss along the way.
Slowly, Donghyuck found his way, until he was holding your legs open, until you are in this situation, back against the carpet, the long-forgotten movie and your best friend’s hot breath against your sensitive pussy.
The first touch made you close your eyes. Your heart rate quickened and you realized what you were doing, what was happening. When Donghyuck leaves a long lick on your pussy. And this feels so fucking good. That moment you feel his tongue. His saliva mingled with your moisture. You moan, and it sounds like music to his ears, because he looks up at you, admiring your expression, and those eyes are pure sin. Filled with lust. Just like you.
When you feel Donghyuck’s finger threatening to enter once more, you think you can’t stand it. That latent pleasure is already there, almost palpable, and you moan louder, your fingers grasp his hair strands, and slowly, his fingers slide, taking space, while you feel his tongue on your clit, fingers slide in, reach deeper inside you and contract.
“Shit! Hyuck! ”You moan.
He smiles, cocky.
“Like it?” His laugh is devilish.
You nod, unable to contain yourself when he reaches that particular point deep inside.
“You know… I never imagined you were so dirty.” So devilish as the way his fingers contract inside your pussy, before slipping out again, before reentering again; picking pace. "But I like it that way.”
Feel like you’re almost there. It’s almost here. Donghyuck’s free hand slides just below the fabric of your shirt, sneaks under your bra, reaching for your breasts and squeezing. You are about to have your orgasm when…
He stops.
“Hyuck!” You complain, when suddenly you no longer feel any of his touch against your body, looking up only to feel that sweet little scare: with the low pants, Donghyuck already has his rigid member in his hands, a harsh hiss escapes his lips and he looks at you with lust as he touches himself. You want it so bad.
Fitting between your legs. He kisses you again. Sloppy. In such a hurry that it messes up his thoughts. Your senses drift when you feel him place his member against your wet entrance. Your back arches as he whispers:
“Be a good girl for me, ok?”
He does not wait. There is no time for that. There is no time for you to waste preparing to receive the first thrust. First; it hurts, he’s so thick. Secondly; it turns you on even more. And Hyuck is so hot when he sinks his dick deep inside you. Sliding. Making way through your tight walls. This is another kind of kiss. When his dick hits the bottom of your pussy and you can feel it throb inside.
"Great,” he sighs, the sigh of deepest relief; soaked in lust. “So fucking good” And when his hip starts to move, you moan like a slut, loud and clear, he likes it, so when he thrust his dick, he does it harder, delighting himself when you moan louder. “You’re a good bitch, aren’t you?”
You cannot stop yourself; you like it when he thrusts his dick even deeper, in and out, harder, faster, and your legs wrap around his hip as he lifts your shirt and bra, leaving your breasts free; moving with every hard thrust of his hip. Just as Hyuck can’t stop himself from fucking you so well, because your moans sound like melting butter, like caramel, so sweet it makes his dick melt against the walls of your pussy.
The room is full of these sinful noises; of skin slapping, of your gradually louder, breathless moans. It doesn’t take long, though, until Hyuck is moaning against your ear too, because you feel so good around his cock. So good that sounds like a lie, a dream, a dream of the most depraved boy: one of those dreams of fucking your best friend in the middle of the living room of your apartment.
Something he has dreamed and fantasized about so many times in secret.
“Hyuck! I-” you moan and the rhythm of his hips doesn’t seem to be even close to exhaustion. “Hyuck! I’m coming!”
Somewhere in your mind, you think about how bad this is; how you and he should have stopped before you were in this mess now, sweaty bodies, the smell of sex and wet moans sounding everywhere.
“Yes,” Hyuck grunts under his breath. The thrusts becoming erratic. “Come for me, my dirty slut.”
Your eyes close tightly as your hands clutch against Hyuck’s back. As you feel the walls of your pussy contract in cruel spasms. Your mind colors in shades of white. You scream. But do not listen. Your senses drift when you have the best orgasm of your life.
It’s too late when Hyuck comes inside you. Making this mess inside you, which ends up leaking; and for a moment he seems to admire the good work he has done. Admiring how tight your pussy is even for his semen.
And then, out of the chaos, silence fell. As you tried to catch your breath. Meanwhile, reality had not yet reached your mind. What you had just done. What you had done with your best friend.
Ten minutes. It was the time that this heavy silence lasted. Long enough for the two of you to mop up silently, flushed cheeks and a certain shame that didn’t match anything with all the dirt you two had done.
Ten minutes.
It was the time it took until Hyuck thought it would be good if he said something.
“You know…”
"We can forget that,” you said, quickly. Looking at him with huge eyes, heart thundering in your ears.
“Yes,” he said, “if that’s what you want …” annoyed at what he heard from himself.
That’s when you had this moment of clarity: I can have him for myself. And it was like having made the third greatest discovery of modern science. Right there in that little apartment, looking into the face of your best friend. You realize that; this was already your territory. And she was the real intruder.
So…
It wouldn’t be all bad if you take back what was already yours, right?
It was with this thought, that you continued to visit Donghyuck’s apartment and, more movies were dropped in the midway.
Soon these malicious kisses were becoming the new inside joke of your incredible friendship. Something that could only be understood when your and his eyes met, when the movie was too boring, and perhaps it was the fault of the distorted attention; from the lack of attention created when you and your best friend were in the same environment.
These casual encounters kept happening until it became pointless to use the old “let’s watch a movie” excuse, because it soon became a straightforward “I want to fuck you today”, you wouldn’t complain, you love this new thing about him; and he loves when you tease saying you’re busy.
It turns out that when your best friend’s girlfriend returned from her travel, a shred of guilt still crossed your mind, the icy fear piling deep in your throat: the fear that this was the end of your adventures with Donghyuck.
To your surprise: This is not how it ended. But it became quieter. It became more delicious. When in the dead of night your apartment doorbell rang through the walls and on your cellphone there was a message saying “I need you right now.”
Delightfully mischievous when the next day you heard her talk about giving his beloved boyfriend ice treatment. You are terrible. You know it; when pretends to be worried, asking what happened.
“Well,” and she says, like it’s nothing “he’s been a jerk with me so I think he deserves it.”
Basically, it is like the purest satisfaction to your ears. As Donghyuck’s relationship with her cools, things gradually heat up as Hyuck seeks shelter in your arms.
As the fights seem to escalate between them, you decide to provoke more, decide to wear this more prominent cleavage over and over, watching as Hyuck nervously realizes he can’t take his eyes off you, even if his girlfriend is right there.
“Y/n…” One day she approaches you. “Do you think something is going on that I don’t know?”
That’s when the adrenaline rush, the euphoria, and your inverted fairytale world come down: “I’m a monster” is what you think to yourself as you look into the face of the girl who is officially regarded as Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That taste is bitter, and it rests on your tongue, the taste of a wicked kiss, feels like a double-edged sword that is used to cut someone, and cuts you halfway.
Officially, she’s his girlfriend, not you.
And the weight of being an affair now cuts you to pieces.
But it’s not like you can escape him, escape his touch, his words that melt into your skin.
“Y/n” one day, Donghyuck is surprised by his lack of response to his messages “did something happen?”
And this lack of attention to the between lines irritates you deeply; but he was always like that, completely unaware of your feelings.
“It’s nothing” you, however, push away the idea, bury the bitter taste and fake a smile. “What is the schedule for today?”
It’s not like sex is now the only thing you two do; you and he were still friends, good friends. Best friends. While she was still his girlfriend.
The first revelation that there is a great deal of distance between “realizing someone is invading my territory” and actually “driving out the invader” divides you in half. You become a paradox by itself.
And again, you are on that mental wall. When you are alone, you think about the stupidity you are doing. And when you’re with Donghyuck, all you think about is how much better a girlfriend you would be than her. But you have no idea what happens between them, do you? It hurts you even more.
However, this paradox, as well as the bittersweet taste in your mouth: does not last long.
It’s a night when you get Hyuck’s message, “I need to see you,” you quickly dismiss the proposal, say you’re busy even though you’re actually thinking about going to sleep. That’s when you give in, when you see the message that says “please, it’s urgent…”
“Oh, yes, Hyuck, your hard cock is certainly an urgent matter,” you think to yourself, but still put on an acceptable outfit and go. When Donghyuck opens the door; He is a mess. A mess you’ve never seen before. And he displays a tired smile when he sees your face:
“Ah, it’s you, Y/n,” he says, sounding as if he’s relieved.
You don’t have any time to respond, because as soon as you open your mouth, it’s as if the addiction itself takes shape. The right word is an addiction. The same addiction that makes you a slave to pure destructive pleasure. The same addiction that intoxicates you when you’re so close to a man named Donghyuck.
He holds your face. And kiss you. So directly, that at first you do not know what is going on. You never knew. And at that moment, when you once again get carried away, you know much less. The moment you walk through that door and it closes right behind you. At that moment his lips look more erratic and lost than usual when you feel him pulling your clothes out of the way.
You are lost.
You never had any chance to take him.
Because Donghyuck already had you. Right in the palm of his hands, those hands that are so good at handling your body.
It is on the couch in his living room that you see yourself completely naked. When he holds you by the waist, putting you in such an unprotected position, hands and arms supporting your ass in the air. His hand glides over your body, as if his fingers delight at each curve, sliding down to your ass, squeezing. He keeps you that way for a while, gasping at the feel of his long fingers threatening his way to your intimacy. But this time, Donghyuck is really good with you, he doesn’t tease you as much as he usually does. Not this time. Not this time when all he wanted to do was just lower his pants and once again make you completely his own.
It was thus, naked and raw, that he took another little part of your body and soul for him. When he pushed his hard cock. You moaned like never before, holding tight to the couch, feeling each thrust reach a new level of pleasure against your womb.
“Fuck, y/n” Hyuck growled, hands holding tight in your ass as he continued to fuck you. “I want you so bad…” His words melted against your skin as the room filled with a snap, the red mark on your ass burned but you liked it. “Ah, fuck” he growled, the rhythm of his hips rising, going deeper, the slapping of skin filling your ears and the climax was right there “you’re so fucking hot.”
It is at this turning point when you can feel that you are almost there, when his right-hand meets your throat, squeezing lightly, while you felt his cock fucking you so well. At that particular moment, when he bends to let a kiss on your shoulder and you moan louder, because you can feel it deep within yourself.
This is when the door is wide open.
“Hyuck, I forgot to-” And both of you are caught in the act.
In this scene where there is no explanation.
Because Donghyuck is clearly fucking his best friend on the couch in his living room. At such a time, this is when the end of the world seems like a plausible hypothesis.
“I knew… you two?! I knew fucking it!” And those were the words that were the beginning of the end of the world.
In other cases, you would never believe that a person could wear their clothes so quickly. Days ago you would be surprised by how quickly you put your clothes back, just as you would not believe you would ever be in a situation like this.
Reality took a long time to settle.
But the shouting didn’t take long to begin.
"You’re not going to talk, Donghyuck?!” And no one could blame her for screaming. No one could blame her for anything there. The villain of the story is you, right? “Won’t you even give me an excuse?”
Hyuck is silent, sitting on the couch, arms resting on his knees and hands rubbing the strands of hair.
“Answer me, Donghyuck!” And his girlfriend is screaming these loose phrases, smudged makeup, the accusations against you are the worst part when she looks at you with those disgusted eyes. “You fucking little bitch!” When she is about to fly right in your face.
“Leave her out of it” the only time Donghyuck said anything.
You felt your world sink. But it was ironic. That was the end of the world anyway, when she turned to him, sarcastic laughter coming from her lips.
“But what’s the joke?” She asks. For a moment you think she’ll fly to his neck. “Are you going to tell me you like her, Hyuck?”
That shadow hangs on his face. Donghyuck doesn’t answer, instead, he looks up and stares at you, stares at you with those confused eyes. Your throat freezes. You can not swallow. But tears are already welling in your eyes.
You do not want to know the answer.
“Honey, I’ll understand if that was just a side thing,” she says, with this poisonous voice.
That’s enough. You go as soon as the opportunity arises. You run toward the door that is already wide open. Tears come, they fall down like a waterfall, and there is a piece of ice in your throat, your fingers are cold, vision is blurred, legs wobble, and you have to stay sane, sane until you get to your own home.
Instead of waiting for the elevator you go down the stairs. Instead of taking the subway, you walk all the way back.
No one came after you.
Or better…
Donghyuck didn’t came after you.
But what were you waiting for to happen?
“This is not a fairy tale,” you tell yourself as soon as your apartment door opens and you let yourself sink that dark cold room that accommodates your body so well that you break. “It’s not a damn fairy tale… not for me.”
The next day, your eyes are swollen, nose stuffy and ears throbbing with pain. There is a limit to how much a human being can cry; and this limit is when you feel like a piece of trash, when it hurts so much that out of pure survival instinct your brain numbs your heart. It is when you cry so much that the world seems to revolve around a wound that you no longer remember the reason for being there.
The numbness lasts a few hours.
For you, it is not enough time for the headaches to pass. Then you cry again. And it hurts even more.
You do not leave home. On the second day. You just stare at your door and wait for something. Wait for days to come back. Expect that this dark side of you to walk toward the sunlight outside and disappear. You want to kick yourself out like a parasite. The non-possibility of this happening makes you cry even more.
And at times like this, when you cry so hard, Donghyuck would probably say something stupid, and it would make you smile… But Donghyuck didn’t come after you and you decide to put an end to it.
“You two deserve each other. You are her prince after all.
Please forget me, Donghyuck.”
Seven days, the total amount of time this depressed slowness settled in Donghyuck’s apartment room. Seven days. It was the time when it finally took him to decide to get out of his bed, stop being a complete failure, get up, make coffee and… give his best not to collapse.
What you don’t know is that it hurts him too. It hurts to realize something that should be so simple, but the situation is almost lost. It hurts, even more, to be an asshole when the truth is as harsh as your own decisions.
There are a total of seventy messages on his phone that hasn’t been unlocked since seven days ago. He already knew where this would handle. He just didn’t expect it to hurt so much to be the asshole. But as his friend Mark Lee says; “One day the consequences come, and they hurt twice as much as you ever hurt anyone, man.”
The theory proved true when the phone vibrated and your message arrived. That was when his heart tore. The dry swallow slipped through his throat and he knew that being a complete failure as a person was no longer an option.
So when he knocked for the fourth time on your door, he was not very willing to give up. Because if he were going to be a complete asshole, at least he would go all the way. Then he hit your door again. And you ignored him.
The truth is that Donghyuck has always been an amateur about this thing called feelings. True feelings. So it is only natural that he will misstep there, break something here, and start a fire in the process. He knows now. And he hates himself more than anyone.
Then he hits another sixth time.
You do not answer.
He wonders if you moved in those seven days. But he knows that you are broke.
He also considers the possibility that you died. This thought startles him. He rings the bell. In fact, he presses and leaves his finger there, causing the rustling noise to extend into an infernal choir that can even lift any deceased from the grave.
“Go away!” You shout.
It seems to work.
“Y/n, please open the door,” Hyuck replies, leaning his face against the wood.
You remain silent, and he cannot blame you. But after all, he wasn’t determined to go back now.
“I’ll ring the bell again.”
“If you respect at least your own life” and you respond “don’t push that button again.”
“I’ll stay here until you decide to open it.”
“Then you can die there.”
“That hurts.”
“Great!” He can hear your voice rise a tone.
And that sudden silence comes from the other side of the door. This silence that worries you. But when you fear he’s finally gone, you can see the shadow of his shoes spread across the carpet at the entrance.
“I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck says from the other side of the door. That is not enough. Not to take that weight off your chest. “I think…” And you don’t trust yourself to open that door again. “I think I have these feelings for a while. So I did what I did. ”
Hyuck swallows, waiting for an answer; he takes a deep breath when he realizes that you are listening in silence.
“I’m not a prince, Y/n, I’m human.” And he says it, word for word. “And I love you…” Swallowing hard, feeling his hands shake, consciousness drowning in insecurity, Donghyuck has never been as self-conscious in his life as now. “I must be an asshole for not giving up but I’m an asshole that loves you so… How about we start over?”
At that moment, when there was no answer to his question, he stepped away from the door, and let his heart sink in his chest. He looked down. But before turning around, he can hear the sound of keys turning and the door opening.
When he saw your face. When he saw his own mess reflected in a fragile and suspicious you; he felt like the most complete asshole. A daring asshole, in fact:
“May I come in?” He asks, his eyes as teary as yours.
And then, you are the only one who can choose; go your own way, or surrender completely.
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Genre: smut with a fluffy touch, fuckboy!jeno
Pairing: Jeno x You
Rating: 18+
Summary: You have this ghost that lives deep in your memory. A ghost that sometimes pops into your memory from time to time, and it’s not like you can push it away…
Word count: 1388
You have this ghost lives deep in your memory. A ghost that sometimes pops into your memory from time to time, and it’s not like you can push it away.
Because you can still remember those summer days, when you lie quietly in your bed, at your boring home, waiting for sleep to come: He seems most likely to appear at these times. You still keep those warm summer memories when you had extra classes while all your friends were having fun enjoying the hot season, while you were stuck in these boring classes, all because of him.
Yes. You still remember him perfectly.
Lee Jeno, the boy sitting directly behind you. The boy who wouldn’t leave you alone for a second during your torturous morning. You still remember how much he pissed you off at the cheesy jokes. How annoyed you were with his mischievous smile. With the way he combed his hair. With the stupid form that he made your heart burn, almost explode and tear.
Oh, yes, you still remember the feeling of being surrounded by the fragrance he exuded: like ginger and embers.
You also remember perfectly the first time you went to detention. It was that particular day when something was especially annoying you. Maybe something in his tone, or something in the way he tapped his fingertips against the table. And sometimes you admitted to yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to think about what it would feel like to have those hands on you…
“Hey babe.” Maybe, that was the last drop left for you to explode, when Lee Jeno leaned and whispered in your ear. “I was thinking that…”
Then you exploded in the middle of the boring math class.
“Enough!” Slapping your desk and getting up suddenly.
That was exactly how the teacher stared at you and you thought for a brief second that this would be the perfect feeling of being about to die.
But, not yet.
That feeling was yet to come.
It would be coming that very day, that very damn day you ended up in detention, but not alone, because Lee Jeno went along, and the shiver that went up your spine, making its way through your skin, up to the nape of your neck, this is a feeling you can’t forget; you felt that good things were not to come, sitting in this chair in the center, facing the board where it was written:
“Think about your actions.”
Oh, well, surely you were about to think a lot about your actions, especially with Lee Jeno sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you were sure he was laughing at the situation.
Remembering now, you can be sure it was really what he wanted; have you in this situation, in this exact situation.
But, don’t get it wrong.
There is a lot about Lee Jeno for you to remember yet.
Because the moment you held your breath, when Mr. Lee-Fuccboi opened his mouth, tensing his jaw, all you heard was…
“At least we don’t have to listen Mr. Stinky Panties.”
You couldn’t stop it, and you wanted to, but you couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped your lips.
“Have you smelled him to know?” Just as you couldn’t help but reply.
That’s how a good conversation started, but a good conversation between you and Lee Jeno. Can you believe? What madness? Two completely different people from completely different worlds, living under totally different circumstances, talking to each other as if none of this mattered?
You might say a greater madness would be that in twenty minutes later Lee Jeno’s tongue would be directly inside your mouth, and, his hands would finally be where you once thought to allow yourself to desire, directly between your legs, making way to fit his hip; from where you can feel the erection through the fabric of his pants.
Thank heavens that day you had decided to wear a skirt: because in summer times like these, things can get hot quickly, can’t they?
With your ass on the teacher’s desk, Lee Jeno’s hands pushing your panties out of the way and almost tearing it in the process, zipper noise coming down, breath lost between the wild and wet kisses — this kind of heat quickly spread through your body: when you felt him sliding in, with surprising ease, but extreme sudden pleasure.
You bit your lip, not wanting to let out a moan.
And he smiled.
“Were you expecting this, princess?”
You could answer yes, when you dug your nails into his strong shoulders, when you felt him go deeper and deeper.
“Because I’ve waited so long for this…” he whispered, in your ear, hot breath against the skin of your neck, hands now on your ass, while his hip slammed against yours “oh fuck yes, I waited so long to fuck you. ”
And you could admit out loud how long you waited for the moment when you would feel his dick deep inside you, almost tearing you apart.
It was too late…
When you finally felt like you were about to die, when you let that moan escape, when Lee Jeno held you so tightly against him that he made you see stars.
“Is that what they mean when they talk about enjoying summer time?” you sometimes wondered, perhaps, on the next day when you noticed that Lee Jeno was looking at you with the eyes of a predator.
And wondered again the day after, when Lee Jeno whispered this dirty joke in your ear in the middle of the class. And once again, you wondered the very same thing when you and him once again went to detention:
“So…” Jeno said, when both of you were finally left alone, in this room that once again smelled like ginger and ember “we have fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes is enough.” You loved the surprised look Jeno kept on those little seconds that he spent until he found the path of your lips. In those few seconds it took him to tear the first moans out of your mouth.
You can remember unfailingly, perfectly fine, those summer days when you had to attend extra classes while your friends were having fun outside.
You can remember these summer days very well, because just as they began — bitterly — they soon ended.
Lee Jeno had always been this shiny toy on the last shelf, and for a few seconds you had that taste of what it would be like to reach it, for a few days of detention, summer, and blank notes. But Lee Jeno would remain there, unreachable as soon as summer was over.
Lee Jeno left without saying goodbye. He moved around and left no more dirty jokes behind. Any word. And right now, while you still remember his scent and days that will probably never happen again, you imagine this must be how life works…
Cruelly and between never spoken lines.
You never had an opportunity to say what truly mattered:
“Hey, Jeno,
I really…”
Remembering now, your silly teenage things, you never said it out loud, never even thought to say it, not even in those quiet moments right after a good fuck, when you investigated each other’s eyes and there was that silly smile wanting to come out, on both yours faces.
Now, entering this old bookstore, you remember what you did but never said:
“Hey, Jeno,
I truly love you.”
Do you know what is worse?
You now realize that: maybe he loved you too, even a little. But now, as you reach for the book on the top shelf, tiptoeing, you imagine that the Lee Jeno you know is probably too far away for you to reach now.
Where did he go?
Why did he leave without saying anything?
Where is he?
What is he doing?
It is at this moment that the martyring scent of ginger and ember invades his nostrils. You reach the highest shelf. There is someone who is bold enough to approach a “complete stranger”, take the book and put it in your hand.
Answer me through your memory, who else would have such audacity?
“Need help, princess?” Is what he whispers in your ear; this once ghost no longer resides your summer memories.
Genre: fluffy, aesthetic, “18 ways to say I love you”
Pairing: Jeno x You
Summary: The sky is blue above your head, but it’s between the lips of Jeno that you find your piece of heaven.
Word count: 413
A/N: one more for the collection ~ i hope it isn’t too bad !! the next one may take a few days to get done ~
The noise of the waves fills the breeze of the beach, and in the sand the marks of your feet form a path in crooked lines. It's summer vacation and your entire class decided to camp on the beach for a whole week. It would be perfect, more than perfect, were it not for Lee Jeno: your greatest enemy on all sides of the earth.
"Why are you so angry?" He laughs, stepping backward, his hand raised just above your head.
"Give it back, Jeno!" You exclaim, advancing, with a leap trying to reach what is stuck between the fingers of the boy who is much taller than you: your favorite bracelet.
"If I can reach you, I'll give it back to you, shorty." Laughing, he moves farther away, his hair in blue shades dancing in the wind.
Lee Jeno is the worst person with whom you could bump into this summer.
"Give me back!" You exclaim, jumping, trying to reach, which is impossible and Jeno laughs amused, watching your face paint pink and red: it's the perfect contrast to a blue summer day.
"What's in it for me?" He asks, when the steps stop in the sand, sinking, he still keeps his hand raised in the air, looking you in the eyes with a sweet smile.
Sometimes you can't understand Lee Jeno, the kid sitting at the bottom of your class, you can't understand why he implies so much about you, let alone understand moments like that, when he looks at you with his eyes shining.
"What?" You ask, frowning.
"If I give you back the bracelet," he says slowly, "I want a kiss."
"A ki-kiss?" You repeat, confused. "What are you talking about, Jeno?"
The smile on Lee Jeno's face becomes a laugh, the blue wires flapping in the wind. His left hand holds on your shoulder, and the right hand lowers, holding the bracelet between his fingers, which fit at the nape of your neck. Suddenly, the touch of his lips with your own came soon after, fitting sweetly with a little taste of the heaven: your heart flutters, and Jeno presses his lips hard against yours.
"Now give me the bracelet," you say, opening the eyes that were closed tightly, cheeks completely red.
Jeno looks at you, with a sideways smile, lifting the bracelet back into the air.
"Hey! You said you were going to give it back!" You whimper.
"That wasn’t enough." And he says. "Let's repeat."
Genre: fluffy, aesthetic, “18 ways to say I love you”
Pairing: Jaemin x You
Summary: Na Jaemin's smile is made of sunflowers. And as you love sunflowers, it means that…
Word count: 354
A/N: it’s really short, but it was saved a while ago. and well, we're talking about Na Jaemin!!! *crying* so it has to be posted, mr. sunshine deserves all the love in the world <3
It's a friday afternoon, one of those afternoons when Na Jaemin left the house next door to come to yours. With a smile that goes from ear to ear. And on television is passing his favorite movie, which soon became the favorite for the two of you.
"I brought your favorite flavor." Jaemin says, sitting down next to you.
"My favorite flavor?" You answer, smiling. Having Jaemin around always leave you smiling like a fool. "Or your favorite flavor?"
"Both." He laughs.
Jaemin was always by your side, in a few years; less, in other years; much more, but always there. Especially on friday afternoons. And that particular afternoon smells like orange chewing gum, and the window next to you is full of sunflowers.
"Now!" And Jaemin rushes to the television. You laugh. "It's my favorite scene, now!"
"That's the tenth time you say that, Nana."
"But whenever I remember..." He turns to you, with the most beautiful smile in the whole world: because you known this smile for as long as you know Na Jaemin, the boy who is always making you smile.
Because his smile is like a sea of sunflowers. And your cheeks blushes when he looks at you longer, as if searching for something, deep in your eyes...
"Wait!" He says, suddenly, looking surprised at the television; the movie is still going on. "This is my favorite scene, too!"
"Stupid!" You laugh, tapping your bestfriend's shoulder. "Nana, you're a complete fool.
And the truth is you love sunflowers. You has always loved since childhood.
"But do you know what I like best?" Jaemin asks, with a smile between his lips, made from the sunflowers in your window.
And as one thing leads to another...
"What?" You ask.
Without waiting too long, the movie continues, the sunflowers dance in the window with the breeze and Na Jaemin bends, you don't move, because what comes next are his lips fitting into yours, awkwardly, but with taste of chewing gum orange flavor: with taste of Na Jaemin.
"You" He whispers, smiling.
Just as you love sunflowers since childhood, you also love Na Jaemin.
A/N²: as the name "18 ways to say I love you" suggests, I will soon be posting more of these oneshots with all NCT members; but for this I need a little help~ send me a member on ask along with something that reminds you of him, for example; “Jaemin reminds me of movie afternoons and sunflowers”
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Genre: bittersweet angst, some fluffy, college!au, bestfriends to enemies to...
Pairing: Jungwoo x Reader
Summary: "What are you doing?" You ask, eyes filled with tears, stuffy nose, voice shaking at the sight of Jungwoo's face.
His hand is so firm in your arm, and his expression is so cold that you shrink, feeling the fear, afraid that what is already so painful can become even more...
"What I should have done a long time ago" he whispers.
Word count: 3,7k
Request: “Omg! Your jisung angst was everything! I saw that requests are still open, so I was hoping I could request a jungwoo angst. Have a good day:’)💓” by @anon
A/N: well, I confess it was very difficult to write this, sorry if this aren't well the way you imagined, I hope you enjoy! <3 <3 <3
You met Jungwoo on a day that everything seemed to go wrong...
Your life has always been like this anyway, it always seemed to not get any worse.
But it always ended up getting worse...
The very first day at your university you got lost, literally, which resulted in you running from one place to another simply because your first class was about to begin.
Asking for help from the lady you found along the way didn't help much.
Actually, it just got you three full laps down the same block, looking for a room that didn't even exist.
Your college life didn't start in the best of ways. When you reached a seemingly deserted corridor you sighed, leaning against the wall, letting the body slide, simply defeated, desolate and almost crying all your tears out.
"Uhm..." But the sweet voice came to you, making you jump off the floor as you noticed the boy at the drinking fountain, casting his eyes and smiling at you. "Need some help?"
That's how the boy from the water cooler helped you find your classroom, which happened to be the same as his. In fact, it was only when he called you to sit in the place next to his that you actually met Kim Jungwoo...
Well, let me tell you something: most of the girls in your room started to get a bit of envy...
That's because, somehow, Jungwoo is always around you.
Be it to give a helping hand in the housework that the teacher has passed, even though it's expressly said that it isn't in duo.
Whether it be to help you buy the snack of the day; and always making you opt for healthier options.
Or even, simply to keep your place safe in the class, right next to him.
It started little by little, but it ended up becoming like this over the course of days. Jungwoo is always around, to the point that, you have become synonymous with Jungwoo, and Jungwoo has become synonymous with you.
And, know the days when you're sleeping too much and the alarm clock will not wake you so soon? Do you have a Jungwoo to knock on your bedroom door — how does he get into the girls' dormitory? That's a secret.
Know that times that you forget the notes, the pencils and even the snack money?
Or when your own room is too messy?
You have a Jungwoo for that too.
"I know how to take care of myself, Jungwoo!" And you even try to defend yourself from looking so useless and at the same time so irresponsible.
"Yes, yes, Y/n, you know how to take good care of yourself..." And he responds in a voice so sweet, so soft that it's impossible for you to stress yourself. "I'm just making sure you're going to stay alive and... entire."
And, know the times when you just need someone quiet, sitting on the tiny sofa in your room, just to listen to all your outbursts about the day?
Or, of those rainy days that your will is only to stick the face and the whole body underneath a duvet and never leave?
Putting your pink teddy bear socks, eating popcorn and putting on a good cartoon?
You have a Jungwoo for that too. To make popcorn, to curl you in your favorite duvet and of course...
"I think your fever is coming down" he says whispering as he runs his hand over your forehead.
Taking care of you while you're sick, because no, you don't know how to take care of yourself, much less stay alive on your own.
Jungwoo is your best friend.
Your walking lifeguard.
The apparent solution to most of your problems.
In fact, Jungwoo is more than all of this...
And you realize on one of those days that you slept so badly that you did not hear the knocking on the door, because you fell sick for the second time in the month, and it was raining hard when he decided it would be nice to bring you some old Jack Chan movies, bring along some sugar-free candy, and stay to take care of you.
So you're sitting on the floor, completely wrapped in duvets, Jungwoo is right on your side, the candy is thrown all over the place, and you do your best to keep breathing because your best friend squeezes you both in a hug, but so much, that you are sure that you will not die of fever, but suffocated...
Jungwoo loves hugs, loves so much, that for you it is no surprise that he is always hugging you.
And, well, this kid has the best hugs in the world.
That's why you never complained.
Because it's warm, and especially, you feel that nothing in the world can hurt you from within.
It's like being held by a bear.
And, this is how you get this nickname for your best friend:
Giant-teddy-bear
"Okay," and one morning your friend, a classmate with the room right next to you, frowned, "when will you two assume the whole dating thing?"
The question shocked you, trully, you choke with your morning snack that hadn't even begun.
It began in a way far from normal.
"What you mean? We're just friends." You said, deep down, deep down, so deep you didn't even realize it: wishing your own words weren't true.
"Ow..." Your friend raised her eyebrows, drinking from her straw, "so... poor Jungwoo is in a one-sided love?"
The world could explode in your head, at the same time, because it was almost happened
Your own world exploded ...
You denied it, told your friend she was exaggerating.
But inside, something in you has changed.
You came to see Jungwoo differently.
Or rather, you finally noticed why Jungwoo's hugs were always so welcoming
You're in love with your best friend.
So you look for the smallest details, that he feels the same, because it's what you most want: Jungwoo also feels the same warmth for you.
You want to believe that your friend was not exaggerating, so you keep searching for any deep meaning in the hugs that come out of nowhere, something deep in the eyes when he throws one of those sweet, lost looks with a smile tied to his lips.
But whatever you find is
nothing...
It's what drives you to this particular day, in which you have been called to a small celebration in a bar not far away.
You accepted without hesitation for more than two seconds.
You drank, you drank too much...
And ignored Jungwoo's calls also.
What happens is that if you don't answer to his calls, he'll find a way to appear — spontaneous generation, you can swear — at the bar, pulling you back to your room.
How did you get there so fast, almost tripping over your room and wiping your face from the rain? You don't know.
"I was worried." But you are sure of what you hear from Jungwoo, but you don't turn to look at him.
"I don't need you to worry about me." You counter, still on your back, running the sleeves of your blouse up against your face, in vain trying to wipe it off with what was already soaked.
You hear a heavy sigh coming from behind. You hear his footsteps, and you can see from the reflection of your bedroom mirror that he bends down, picking up the pile of clothes tossed in the corner, where you almost stumbled.
Your chest burns.
"Why are you doing this?" Asking, you turn around.
Jungwoo stop right there, with your clothes in his hand, his eyebrows raised:
"This what?" He stammered, clearly lost.
How long will he pretend to be misunderstood? Alcohol seems to mess with your head...
"This, Jungwoo!" And you point, directly at him, directly to the bundle of clothes still in his hands, "why do you always have to take care of me?"
He stares at you, his eyes slightly widening, and his lips parting.
"That's what friends do" he replies softly, sort of wanting to laugh, because he knows a lot of that uprising is because of the shots you took.
But only a large part, the other part is what leads you to go on...
"Friends?" You babble.
And Jungwoo couldn't be more confused by putting your clothes on the table, watching you withdraw.
"How long do you plan to take this forward?" You whisper, the words slide out of your mouth, unknowingly, are already there, coming through Jungwoo's ears.
"I don't understand, Y/n." But Jungwoo's eyes remain the same as you feel yourself burning inside.
"How much are you still planning to take advantage of me?"
But not for long, Jungwoo's bright eyes widen, and the silence comes too fast. His mouth opens and closes as fast as you feel the world turning.
"Y/n, I don't think I heard right." He whispers, his expression sinks into shadow, there is no more sparkle in his eyes, let alone a playful smile on his lips; and Jungwoo had always been that happy, airy guy, but good...
Things were about to change now.
"You don't have to pretend to be my friend just to fuck-"
"Be honest with me..." He interrupts you. "Do you think I'm that kind of guy? Just to fuck with you..."
You freeze. Jungwoo's eyes are cold, angry, it's the first time you sees him like this; well away from what might be considered your teddy-bear.
"No, well, I... I heard that..."
Jungwoo takes a step back.
"You don't have to hide that you have a crush on me, Jungwoo" the alcohol only makes you stumble in the words, with a silly giggle, deep down, nothing but despair.
Because sobriety hits you too late, just in time to see a straight smile on the lips of who you call best friend...
"Sorry, Y/n" the door then opens, you hear the metallic click, "But I don't like you..."
"Not in the way that you think..."
"Sorry."
And you can see the seriousness on Jungwoo's face by saying this, by saying the words that cut your heart right in the middle.
You feel like a complete idiot.
"Jungwoo, this is a mis-" You want to mend, you want to mend before...
The door closes.
Before the silence is done, suddenly, without any warning; just as Jungwoo walks out the door without saying anything, with his eyes coldly serious.
The truth is, it took exactly eleven minutes, in the silence that lingered after the door was closed for you to finally understand what had happened, so, you finally understood how much you had spoiled everything.
The truth is that outside, Jungwoo listened to you crying, with his back pressed against the door of your room, in silence: the heart became pure chaos that day, and in the night also, when a single tear fell down the face.
The next day there is no book, sweatshirt or backpack guarding your seat. And when you approach, with your eyes swollen from so much crying last night, you take a deep breath...
"Good morning," you say to Jungwoo.
He looks at you for seconds before turning his face, continuing to talk to his next colleague...
And right there, you want to cry.
Because from this day on, you go to sit on the other side of the classroom.
Just as if you forget the snack money, it's your friend who lends you; and there's no one to force you to buy the wheat cereal bars instead of the chocolate bars.
The knocking on the door on the days you're late is gone too.
Just as the days of laziness with duvets, popcorn, candy, movies and teddy-bears are replaced by solitary days, with boring movies, no food, and the purest cold.
The bear hugs is what you miss the most.
Beside the soft whispers.
And you still try, in any way possible, to approach Jungwoo, say at least one word, anything to give you the sign that he still knows of your existence.
It's an attempt to remain still on the edge of the cliff because you're afraid to find out what will happen when you finally fall.
So that it's at interval, in front of the ice cream shop, that you make the decision to get up from your chair, forgetting your ice cream, to go talk to Jungwoo...
In fact, to call him to look in your face and cease to act like a complete spoiled child:
"If you keep ignoring me I swear I'm going to stick my hand in your face, what about?" You already have all the rehearsed talk, when...
You can not move on, your feet stop right in the middle of the road
because what your eyes find is too much for your whole body to process, it's too much even for your heart to endure...
and it comes down to Jungwoo sitting with no one else but the girl in your class, the special girl you both hate, the girl who always has the best nasty comments on the tip of her tongue and always for you
And you're sure, Jungwoo heard everything he had to hear from this girl, right out of your mouth.
Even so, there he is, all smiles, sitting with her, with her disgusting friends, while you're right there, alone, without him and, crying every night...
You feel like a monster.
Losing a friend.
And, losing who you love too.
"It's not your fault, Y/n," and no matter how many times you listen, you know very well that at least one tip is your fault, "Jungwoo is being an asshole."
And, yes, that's true also.
The rumors don't delay much until reach your ears, in fact, the rumors are crowding all the corners of the university, it's simply natural that one day came to you that;
Jungwoo is dating.
Just the girl you hate.
You reach your limit when you see a photo in your feed. Jungwoo looks happy, smiling, with a blonde girl on the side, some drinks appearing on the table, the party looks lively...
This isn't the Jungwoo you thought you knew.
[What's happening with you?]
It's what you type, for the contact you should have deleted yourself; but didn't delete, and still has the old nickname saved.
You don't expect him to see, let alone respond...
[What do you want?] But that's what happens...
[We need to talk.]
[Now?]
[Jungwoo... I know it was stupid, idiot, and... I shouldn't have made those assumptions about our friendship, I'm sorry.]
[Ah, is that all about it?]
Your eyes are filled with tears, when the screen of the cell phone shakes, your fingers are shaking...
[Forget that. Be happy…
I just want you to know that there is nothing wrong with loving your best friend because that isn't controlled.
And I loved you so much.]
[Y/n, wait...]
This is how you finally delete the contact named "Jungwoo <3 giant teddy bear".
In silence and in tears.
The next day you're not going to class. Not even the other day.
and the other...
until a week has passed, and not even to the dormitory you are coming back more,
you managed to rent an apartment, because staying away from everything seems like the best option.
Until this day...
"Come on, you're going to have fun..." said your friend and, well, when you realized you were already in this bar-half-pizzeria.
The idea was to celebrate your birthday, to eat a lot, to drink a lot; have fun until you faint or someone faints, literally.
And you thought that; Well, I deserve to have fun after all this shit... forget him and...
You thought, it would be all right some time, that someday that wound would stop bleeding and it would be all right when you saw Jungwoo again.
It was all but "good" that your heart reacted when you saw him, exactly five tables ahead.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," you heard, coming softly from your friend's lips as Jungwoo's eyes slid directly to you...
"I need to go to the bathroom." You stood up at once, feeling everything burn inside you, the face, the throat and especially the heart.
This was cruel, the lowest cruelty.
And on the way to the bathroom, you didn't see the girl coming your way.
"Hey!" The bump was huge, making you notice who the voice was, acute and exasperated; none other than the blonde from your class. "Look where you're going!"
Great, the whole troupe is here: you think to yourself, with a grunt.
"Sorry, Tiffany, I'm in a hurry..." you say this, trying to escape as quickly as possible.
"Oh, what's the rush?" she tried to raise her voice, holding you still in place, a sigh escaping from your lips that could be everything, but mostly: a great desire to pound her face.
"Why don't we sit down and have a little girl talk? Away from those idiot friends?"
"Ah, Tiffany, if you can get past four shots without giving a stripper show, maybe we can talk." You say, popping your tongue when you turn to the blonde, who already has a red face that would be rage.
"What did you say, bitch?" Yes, it sure is red with anger.
"That's what you heard, and if you'll excuse me... I do not have the balls to put up with you today," you says, turning around again.
The blonde girl snaps her tongue.
"I really don't understand what Jungwoo sees in you."
And what happened in your head is: Am I missing something?
You sure are...
Because Tiffany manages to spend a full drink, right in your face, and entitled to an evil giggle in the end.
And you're about to show this chicken how to fight for real, you're about to pluck her when...
"What's going on here?" Jungwoo says.
His eyes are on you, and then they turn to Tiffany.
"Jungwoo, dear, she jumped on me and-"
That's all you don't want to see tonight; things are already so bad, and you don't want to make them worse, so that's what you do...
You escape, thrusting into the crowd around the show.
It isn't long before you find the back door of the place, just as the tears don't linger until meet your eyelids.
You cry for the twentieth time, and you even think about quitting, because the promise that it will be the last time never seems to work.
"Y/n" the voice is soft, and whispered. You didn't hear his footsteps approaching, just as you didn't notice that he had followed you here, in the middle of a dark street, where the illumination was scarce.
But even in the dim light, you can easily distinguish the features of Jungwoo's face, his brow furrowed, his jaw tense.
"Wait" he shakes, when you turn away, determined to ignore him; as a form of revenge for being ignored so long, so coldly. "Y/n!"
"Leave me alone!" You scream, the crying in your throat; You sound like a walking baby.
"Please, I need to talk to you." And he insists, following in his hurried footsteps.
"I've always wanted to talk to you, Jungwoo!" You rub your nose, sniffing. "But whoever ignored me was always you."
"Sorry."
"Leave me alone!" You scream again. "Why don't you go back to your sweetheart?"
And your footsteps continue to echo in the night inu rush, hoping to leave it behind...
But your body is held in place, your left foot is in the air, returning to the ground. Jungwoo's hand is strong, even if everything in him seems so soft, delicate and gentle; the hand is strong and firm, and holds you in place.
"What are you doing?" You ask, eyes filled with tears, stuffy nose, voice shaking at the sight of Jungwoo's face.
His hand is so firm in your arm, and his expression is so cold that you shrink, feeling the fear, afraid that what is already so painful can become even more...
"What I should have done a long time ago" he whispers.
And you? You really didn't ask to suffer so much.
Jungwoo pulls you, the other hand held in your face, and in a half-deserted street at midnight; Jungwoo kisses you, as simple as that, sticking his lips against yours, like a jigsaw puzzle that has been postponed to its limit.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," he says, when he separates the kiss, the expression of pain, the voice has the same tone; fragile, almost like a baby about to cry, "I thought you were joking with me and… you sounded so cruel."
"I love you," you whisper, dictating, letter by letter, because it feels so warm again, it's so good to see your Jungwoo; this one you know so well, not the Jungwoo of the last weeks...
He smiles, his eyes shine.
"I love you too," and he says, before a second kiss, smiling, as fussy as you, as sweet as ever should be "I've been in love with you since day one, and I just wanted you to realize it soon..."
Jungwoo tightens you into a hug, tight, tight, warm and cozy:
There's your teddy bear.
Fixing a few slaps on Jungwoo's shoulder, you get rid of the grip, but only temporarily.
"Never again try to confess while you're drunk ..." He says, putting a palm to every apple of his face, and the seriousness that takes Jungwoo's face is at a minimum; comical "I thought you were playing with my feelings, when you said those things."
"Your feelings?" You babble.
"I thought I was making it clear. Since always..."
And this is what happens,
"To know what? From what?"
"Don't make me repeat."
"But I don't know, I swear..."
He holds you tight, strong enough to make some more tears escape your face:
"I love you too, giant-teddy-bear."
(Please mention me as @heart-baek-bleed so that I won't get lost because I want to make sure that is really me) Since you love Ghibi movies, how about a Howls Moving Castle AU with Hongbin? ~ Queennie
sorry for the delay; It was a lot of fun to write this plot, even if it gave me a lot of workhere it is I hope you enjoy it, I'm working on your next request, don’t worry <3
Genre: fluff, slight angst, fantasy, wizard + studioghibli!au
Pairing: Hongbin x Reader
Summary: “And if you dive deep enough into the sea, you will find, among bubbles and fish, a submerged castle where a prince lives without a kingdom.”
Word count: 14k this is… huge
Request: (Please mention me as @heart-baek-bleed so that I won't get lost because I want to make sure that is really me) Since you love Ghibi movies, how about a Howls Moving Castle AU with Hongbin? ~ Queennie
A/N: i'm inactive for a while, sorry, but I'm doing my best! and i'll be putting all the requests in order… so this one in particular has yielded a lot, i hope it is not very massive, because i really enjoyed writing this plot (and omg!!!!, Hongbin in this plot fit so well, jesus have mercy on me)... and: some of Reader's lines will be in italics, well, enjoy!
The City of Lanterns is always shrouded in half darkness, since the gray clouds are always covering the sky completely, be it at night or in the mornings, while the birds sing happily.
And for this reason, the lanterns float on the water, following the flow of rivers that cut the streets, which are presented and joined by small bridges. At one time or another, during the day, the sky perhaps opens a little, letting a few sunbeams pass.
But even with the gray sky, it is rare to rain. And the citizens of the City of Lanterns often believe that when the sky finally cries, it's because something incredible will happen: a miracle! Some say.
Or a terrible disaster... and a few others say, on the other hand.
But it does not matter, does it matter? Because on this day, very early in the morning, the gray clouds that completely cover the sky, are crying. Well, just the day you got so many deliveries to make.
Through the streets, cats seek shelter, and you hurry, holding a small umbrella that does not seem to solve much. Your dress is soaking wet! As you fight and grumble to try to keep the warm breads intact from the rain.
"Mr. Biggam!" You exclaim as you knock on the third door of the day, climbing the only steps that separate the small house from the almost flooded street, the lanterns just behind illuminate the gray day as they float and float.
"Well, young lady..." The gentleman who answers the door scrubs his hands. "My belly was already snoring!"
You smile kindly, kindly in part, because you do not deliver the breads.
"You still owe us the loaves of two days, Mr. Biggam." Because, well, you have a tremendous sharp tongue.
The man open his eyes, and raise the eyebrows.
"But, miss Y/n." He hesitates over lips, still rubbing his hands, his mustache stirring as he tries to find the words. "Money is difficult, and God knows that war has taken all from us..."
"And the same goes for us, sir." You nod, still keeping the loaves away from the old man's hands. "War is cold, so it requires us to be equally cold."
Well, everyone says, what an insolent girl is the daughter of the baker of merchants' alley!
"You can not let a poor lord die of hunger." He rebukes, and you go down both steps, untouched by the words, much less by the desolate expression: you are already accustomed.
"So as soon as you pay for your loaves, you'll have a full belly and a silly smile on your mouth. Mr Biggam? Have a good time."
And that's how you walk away. Because yes, you're a tremendous one of an insolent girl with a sharp tongue.
And from the nearest alley a little black kitten purrs to you as you hurry your feets. You look at the little animal, going back a few steps, but that's all, a simple street cat...
"I'm sorry, kitten, but these breads are not for you," you says when hears a tearful meow, sticking the tongue out for the little animal.
Soon, you're back in the rush through town. Knocking from door to door, of the customers from the bakery shop, which is just at the end of the fishermen's alley. Charging those who owe, and handing over the loaves to the good customers.
After all, if it is to live of goodwill, you and your parents will starve to death! As you say to yourself, to the aunt and to the mother who are always complaining about your sharp tongue and cheeky personality.
The rain thickens in the morning, when you have almost passed the great bulletin board and advertisements of the city, which is right in the center of the square, you almost passed by; because you hurry back. There is a great warning nailed right in the center of the picture, the edges woven in gold, as well as the letters; the great Royal Prom was closer to happening than you imagined!
A radiant smile takes over your face. You want and wait for this night so much: because you imagine the beautiful dress that will wear, the beautiful mask that will order from the best jeweler in the city, and the shoes, oh yes, the shoes!
So, your face is taken by a flyer that drift through the rain, completely soaked.
"Oh!" You exclaimed, pulling the wet paper from your face, now equally soaked.
What you see, written in the flying pamphlet, is nothing more than written in ill-made letters: "Frogs in your tubs? Pest of singers-mosquitoes on your plantations? Or something else... I will solve all your problems!" You recite, with eyes half closed, the letters are terrible.
"Meet me at the singing alley, in the City at the Cradle of the Sea.
The Great Blue Wizard. "
The breath blows out of your lungs, because there is an unconvincing drawing at the end of the words, of a large, rough crown, and this is what you repeat when you let the panflet take its turn in the strong wind of the rain:
"Extremely suspicious."
After all, who could entrust their bathtubs or plantations to a wizard?! And you already heard about the guy, who does not have a name, who does not have a face, actually has several of them but nobody knows for sure which one is the real one.
A man or a woman? Old or young? Where did he or she come from? Do she or he take the name Sebastian, Margo, Estephan or...?
Nobody knows.
But for you it does not matter, there are no coaching frogs in your tub, and you do not even have a plantation of aquatic tomatoes —and thanks to the skies they're scarce this summer because you hate them—what you have is a pile of breads to be delivered on a rainy morning in the City of Lanterns, an umbrella that looks like it will dismount any minute and a dream of finding your prince at the royal ball that will happen within a month.
And oh, of course, you also have the beautiful view of the sea, which plunges the horizon straight ahead into serene turquoise and navy blue colors.
But what happens, minutes after you try to continue your deliveries, is simply that your umbrella really comes undone: and as the people of the City of the Lanterns already said, a weeping sky can mean a day of disasters.
The door bell sings as you enter, the dress completely soaked as well as the remaining breads in your basket, the umbrella is completely crushed, bursting and dead.
"What are these leftovers?" Your mother asked as she placed her eyes on the basket that was placed on the counter.
"Mr. Biggam refuses to pay, Mama." You answer, walking up the stairs, the smell of sweetbreads with cranberry jelly filling your nose as your father finds himself exiting the kitchen, rubbing his hands. "Good morning, papa."
"Good morning, my dear," he replied, not having time to say much more, for you climbed the stairs with a leap worthy of the most agile cat; you get rid of the clothes with extreme rapidity, in the room the birds sing at the foot of your window, seeking shelter from the rain, and your clean clothes are warm.
You descend with the same rapidity that has risen, but there is, still, your mother with the expression in concern.
"Leave the loaves in the door of Mr. Biggam's house, my dear." She says, new loaves replacing those once soaked.
Freezing right there, you close the expression, already knowing where your sweet and innocent mother wants to reach.
"He will not pay if we continues to leave the buns at his door, mama!" The voice came out loud and well expressed from your mouth, hitting a few light slaps on your newly fitted dress to remove the dust.
The house is in a precarious state of cleanliness, there is no money to pay a maid, much less disposition and energy to clean everything with the required attention, the bakery is almost in the same deplorable state.
The money is short. He had always been.
"Money is the least concern, daughter." Your mother still insists, and then you could not be more dazed: she was about to start with this story of empathy for others again.
"Mama, but I need the money!" You twist the words, the discussion begins like this, it always begins. "The ball will soon happen!"
"And who told you that you're going to this... Thing?" But it's your father, who comes out of the kitchen again with a fresh ream of breads with jelly marmalade, who puts everything to lose on your head. "We need people up early to deliver the loaves."
"You are two tremendous stupid!" That's what you scream, opening your mouth wide, expecting your parents to listen well, extremely well when you hit your feet hard on the floor, the bell at the door tinkles and, rain out, you walk away.
"Cheeky girl!" That's what you hear, already outside, but too late, your father can not reach you.
The drops of water fell one by one from the rooftops, the last tears of rain, and you shrank from behind a few barrels, the alley was cold, but still covered enough by the rest of the roofs to keep you out of the rain that already passed.
It was foolishness, of course, since your dress was soaked again. You would quietly mutter all sorts of complaints against the projected images of your parents. Ah, yes, you would not go to the ball that you expected so much just because of the damn deliveries that in the end would not even yield enough money if your mother were still so foolish.
A selfish tear ran down your left cheek, and as you took a breath of icy air, you heard the noise echoing down the darker side of the alley. A dark stranger took the farthest walls, a dark that was not commonplace even in the city where it was always cloudy.
You get up with a spasm, but see, it's just a cat that emerge from the dark, with black fur and a sharp meow, it's the same little friend from early in the morning, the paws echo in the alley and you sigh relieved, again shrinking against the corner of the wall.
When then, you come across with this figure that came out of nowhere, the smoke engulfs the alley, running down the floors, between the parallelepipedos, and you want to get up: but can not, and there is a tall womam covered in a huge black cloak in feathers, approaching. And you are still sitting on the floor.
"Look, little girl, why are you crying?" The voice is babbling, and the cat is curling up between the feathers of the huge cloak that falls to the ground, like black mud of some swamp.
"Nothing of much interest, ma'am." You press your back against the wall; there is no fear, but there is the surprise.
And the mysterious woman approaches, lowering herself with difficulty, there is too much height for a normal human being, the hand that comes out of the dense mantle is wrinkled, flaccid. And you realize, as you see the hand approaching your forehead.
"That you learn to be who you ought to be, and that you unlearn what you should never have been."
This is a witch! And when the finger touches your forehead with a coarse, pointed nail, the waves take your body. You try to scream. It's like having your soul swallowed and crushed, cut in half, because something is taken from you, and it's something that's now in the Witch's hand in black feathers.
"Now, go child, seek what must be undone."
With a simple step, a crack, she disappears, the smoke, the rain, but not the cat. The cat is there, facing you, with a long meow and seems to smile, audaciously smiling as soon as your eyes widen. You look at your own hands, feel the wave revert in the body, what is hot becomes so cold and your throat...
God, your throat...
It's choking, no, no...
The clothes are enlarging, no, no, it's the hands! Your hands, by the Gods! Are decreasing...
You're shrinking, your clothes getting loose and... You want to scream, and nothing comes out, when you run away, the shoes are left behind, the cat releases a meow; it sounds like a muffled laugh, a laugh from one who had one last chance early in the morning.
You run and want to scream, nothing ever comes out of your throat, and with each passing in your rush, it becomes more scrubby, shorter, your dress too big on the body and your hands too small to lift it, to pull it from the path of bare feet.
God, what the bloody witch did to you?!
The doorbell tinkles with force, and into the bakery you run. "Mama!" You call but the words stay in your head only, they stay in the air, because as soon as you enter, you face your mother's huge eye .
"Who are you?!" she exclaims, as loud and audible as the breaking of your chest sounds in your heart.
She can not recognize you. She can not recognize her own daughter! And you wanna talk: this is the witchcraft of a damn witch, Mama, do not let her fool you! But it's the cold of the street what you find, "Get out of here, filthy child, you're messing everything up!" And the one who should be called your father throws you out the door.
And blam! the door closes.
The birds sing, and the lanterns continues flowing down the river. There is no more rain, but there is a huge puddle of water right on your left side, just as you can see your face perfectly, or what your twelve-year-old face should look like.
Ah yes, as they say, rainy days in the City of Lanterns can very much mean a day of complete disaster.
You did not shrink, you were a child again.
And the worst of the worst cases. You can not scream. For what the witch took from you was nothing more than your voice.
A twelve-year-old child with no voice! What cruel fate for an insolent girl...
But see, for all problems there is a solution, because the wind bring this pamphlet straight to your face, as if the fate laughs of your cruel—or not so much—acts. Pulling the paper still soaked from your face, with mild nostalgia, you again see the letters now even more crooked because of the water.
"Meet me at the singing alley, in the City at the Cradle of the Sea.
The Great Blue Wizard."
Now, you really have frogs in your tub. And so begins your adventure...
The winds coming from the north comb the hair strands, and you hold tight the hat—which silently you stole from the neighbor's clothesline, after all, you have your reasons, right? The ribbon that should have been holding the strands of hair in place is holding the dress tied with a huge, clumsy knot.
It had been all you could do through the rest of the day.
And the smell of the sea comes in through your nose as you breathe deeply, throwing a few coins into the sailor's hands.
Right in front, when you finally stop to observe, you hold your breath with your lips opening unnoticed: the view of the city of Altha—the city on the edge of the blue sea—is stupendous, there is no gray cloud in the sky, that opens in the liveliest blue, houses are innumerable, streets fill in life, merchants, children wandering with smiles, even ladies with their huge baskets. And still from the harbor, where the song of the gulls is incessant, it is already possible to see the great and exuberant figure of the royal castle, standing right in the center of the city.
It looks like a dream…
"Get out of the way, you little brat!" A man passes by in all speed, which results in a direct push to the ground...
At least it would seem like a beautiful dream if you were not in a twelve-year-old child's body, a mute child. And all you can do is stare deathly silently at the brute who had just pushed you: with the desire for him to be swallowed by a whale on a brief trip.
The singing alley is just a few streets down and, of course, you know this because it's one of the most famous spots in the city of Altha, everyone talks about it, everyone delights as they pass through the arches that delimit the alley, ears plunge into the sweet songs that echo.
The voices are human, and are human who listen—along with a few animals, who sleep enjoying the shade of the roofs—but they are not human who sing them. You've heard of where the yellowish-colored roses came from, some magical forest out there, but that's not why you crossed the sea; of the small island from where you were born to the continent.
You came looking for a wizard, the Great Blue Wizard, by whom you hope to solve your "little" problem. But, stopping in the middle of the alley, watching people passing dressed in colorful clothes, with beautiful smiles on their faces, you realize that you do not know which door you have to hit.
Great, because the damn poster did not even have an address... and what could you do?
Knock from door to door, after all, in the same way you're used to? Of course you are not yet accustomed to being kicked out, cursed and kicked, and when that's not happening, it's impossible for you to say anything for the simple reason that you no longer have any voice coming out of your mouth.
It is on the farthest street of the alley, where you can still hear the whispers of the singing roses, that you lean against the wall, with a despairing sigh. Fate seems to be conspiring against you, by heaven, what have you done to the Gods to be so furious? Plenty indeed.
"They're looking for you!" The words leaked through the alley just beside him, your body freeze, and slyly you lean over the corner of the wall, just tilting your head to peer through the alley.
It is empty and cold, extremely cold and a dense silence is made. You swallow when you realize that you are already entering the alley, damn curiosity that makes you go foward, only to hear the second burst of words echoing too loud.
"Do you have any idea how much they are offering for your head? Prince George, at least, is offering much more than you owe me. "
When you turn the first corner of the alley you face two men, and instinctively you throw yourself back against the wall; luckily they did not notice your presence. Too bad, because it seems that something extremely wrong is going on there and you're listening to everything.
"And not only him, Rhosalia is after you too."
"What I owe is already promised to be paid, Joseph." The other man, taller, and with clothes of peculiar taste, says, with a tongue snapping: as you realize when again tilt your head, fingers holding firmly to the wall.
His hair strands is blue, you notice with eyes popping in a half shock, what kind of human being would have hair strands blue like ocean water.
"That's what you always claim, Hong-" Words echoed louder and louder through the dark stinking alley.
"Do not you dare speak my name aloud." And the blue haired man growls, interrupting, placing his hand firmly on the other's shoulder.
"Then you pay me what you owe..."
And in the blink of an eye, a snap of fingers like the heavy coat, placed over the shoulders, floats, the little bag comes out of practically nothing, landing in the hand, not much bigger than the palm.
"Here," he says, as he throws the bag against the chest of the alleged Joseph, who is nothing but a ragged, bearded, wrinkly man. "But in return, keep that mouth well sewn. My name is much more precious than any other life, Joseph, keep that in mind. "
The face of the blue haired, in turn, you can not see. Since you holds your breath in shock from what you has just seen; something had just come up in his hands with a snap of his fingers.
"How much do we have here?" The smaller man laughs, completely ignoring the threatening tone in the voice of the blue-haired, opening the sack, and surely they are rhubis in there, the brightest and most red. "Oh, much more than Rhosalia would dream of paying!"
"Keep me out of her eyes and have a lot more-"
And you choke, a hiccup escapes from your throat, just as a shiver takes your whole body because the blue-haired man's eyes head very quickly straight at you.
With a step back, listening to:
"Well, I did not know you brought company, Joseph."
You run, almost tripping over your own feet. Turning the corners of the narrow alley, passing over puddles, diverting from one street cat or other, but it seems to have no end, the alleys shuffle, and when you think you're seeing the light of day, you're not... In fact, there is no end as you turn one more corner that you swear you have already passed at least a four times when; a wall comes out of the air and that's when you stick your face in.
"Who sent you?" The voice slips into the air to you.
And you could stay forever with your face pressed against the wall, but you turn around, pushing your body defensively against the stones.
Now you can see perfectly the face of the man attired with what might be worth your soul and two other souls together, he has his arms folded, with a cold twinge of hostility in his eyes.
You swallow dry, imagining that it will be this way that your life will come to an end.
"Are they that bad?" He asks through his teeth. "What are they thinking? Sending a child after me? "
In turn, you can not move, there is too much fear in your new little body—if you were with your body from a day ago, you definitely would have put a shoe in his face—then, you close your eyes tightly, hands in front of the body, as if it were possible to stop a wizard so easily.
"Now tell me..." The blue-haired man, like the high seas, is approaching, the steps echoing heavy. Your eyes close with more force, already waiting for your fate; death, because if he made a priceless bag come up from the air, just like a solid wall, then what else could he do?
"Who sent you here? Prince George, the Duke of Halminthon or... " He continues, reaching near enough, leaning against his right knee, kneeling in front of you, who is still shrinking.
But his voice pauses, his eyes widen slightly, but you're praying so hard you do not realize: I do not even know who these are! I only looking for the Blue Wizard! You want to talk, but it's useless as your defensive hands.
However, the laughter echoes, low, but audible enough, as noticeable as the air easing against your body. The wall just behind disappears as he snaps his fingers, causing your body to lose balance by stuffing your ass into a puddle, finishing soaking your already battered dress.
What is going on? Your head asks as soon you look up. Finding the radiant expression through the blue strands, saying with a big smile:
"I'm afraid I know very well where to find what you are looking for, little one." You blink quickly, not understanding what is happening, still not understanding how the wall had simply disappeared with a magic spell. "And, well," he reaches out, helping you to get up. "Call me Hongbin."
"And this is where I live!" The door creaks when it opens, and could almost fall apart, because that's what it sums up; a door in pieces, giving entrance to a house also in pieces. What am I doing? You still ask yourself the same question since you agreed to go down the singing alleyway with the blue-haired man.
Hongbin, that's his name, you repeat as you look at him one more time; he looks so suspicious, but he says he knows where the blue wizard is...
As he opens the door, taking steps in, you stop right there taking one last sip in the dry, standing in the doorway of the house in pieces you look around, is a complete silence and there is no one around.
Very suspicious.
"Kindly," Hongbin draws his attention, finally making you enter, following him. The door closes with a sharp creak just behind you. "Do not notice the state of the walls, furniture..."
Foolish request, because it is impossible not to notice, as you enters further, you may feel a slight breeze pass through the house, whistling through the dusty furniture, falling to pieces; a stab of fear still accumulates at the foot of your belly.
Extremely suspicious.
"It's not easy for me to keep the house clean before I get customers like you, little lady."
Customers? Your head exclaims, finally following him, before being completely left behind.
"You know, the number of good customers has become scarcer..." And he continues to speak, his voice muffling every now and again as he covers his nose to a cloud of dust that hangs from one corner to the other.
And you're not listening, too busy trying to not set foot on a loose wood or an open hole in the floor. When then, you bump into Hongbin's body.
"Hold on tight," he says, as his eyes turn to your face, an arrogant smile taking over his lips.
Instinctively, with a little voice telling you to listen for what the blue-hair says, you hold tight in his heavy violet coat. And by all means, you made that choice...
Are three touches of the knuckles against the ladder that barely existed. The house creaks so loudly that you are tempted to let it go to cover your ears.
"You'd better hold firm if you want to keep whole at place, little lady." Hongbin exclaims, and who are you not to listen to him?
The creaking increases until literally, everything is breaking, melting, breaking and then... A huge hole opens on the floor. The dive is quick and painless, but your eyes close by instinct.
What a beautiful way to die...
But you do not die, in place, you hear a tinkle, a mute thud and then, it's the third time on the day you've got your butt in the ground, because this time your legs can not stand it.
There is a velvet purple ceiling, and a great chandelier. Your eyes blink a total of seven times before looking around, while Hongbin disappears from sight. The house falling apart has disappeared, and in place, there remained only this perfectly ornate setting, a winding staircase that rose so high, large shelves with missing books, books that were thrown to the floor.
"I beg again, pardon for the mess," says Hongbin, who is actually making his way through a bunch of books with some difficulty. The place is huge, the wooden walls suggest that a giant could live there, and on the ceiling, when looking better, there are stars gliding, as if the night sky was within reach of anyone.
A tinkling sound, of a fish-shaped bell, is set above a large door just below the stairs. And you stand up from the floor, hands banging against the fabric, taking out the dust that should be present but not there.
"You're back so early, maeester." The voice comes to you in a whisper, softly, and looking at the, now, opened door, you almost utter a scream.
Almost…
"Oh! You brought people with you, maeester." The subject says, his eyes almost closed, mustaches cheer and his tail swing. "It seems like I was guessing, I made lots of cups of tea."
"Oh?!" A small exclamation is what comes out of your mouth, noticing the cat's eyes, incredibly something comes out of his mouth, with the strangeness that passes through your body as you notices a talking cat walking on its two hind legs while the front ones balance a huge tray with two teapots and five cups.
"We have clients, Leo, please serve her a cup of tea." Hongbin nods as the white-coated feline walks over to you with what could be a gentle smile: if it were not a cat with long whiskers and hairy ears.
"Sit down, sit down," and the voice is so low that you can hardly hear it. You sit at the nearest table in which he shows the way, placing the huge tray on the rustic wood. "We have, leaves of sin," say the animal, which would easily have the same height as you, pointing with the fluffy paw to the cup with the pink liquid. "Of amaranth with beetles of the desert..." The transparent liquid with subtle red touches does not look anything pleasant... "And mint with pineapple." And the cup with a leaf floating in the middle is the one you choose, for sure.
And as you watch the fluffy paws easily put sugar in your tea, watching it all with shining eyes, completely amazed at the talking cat named Leo, Hongbin is literally rummaging through the books on the highest shelves, balanced at the top of a ladder.
"You know my preference, Leo." He says, before his servant of low, gentle words like a spring breeze, even ask. Surprisingly, the taste of Hongbin is by the tea of reddish color.
"It's not really made from beetles," Leo says softly, seeing your expression in horror. "Desert beetles are little sweet stones, buried in the sand." And you're relieved to know.
The small leaf continues to float in your tea, as eyes are sliding from wall to wall, there are small pots of plants scattered all over the place in unusual places, and there is a huge fireplace.
"It must be here by some corner..." Hongbin mutters between his lips, throwing another book up, with no sign of concern about the mess shown a few minutes ago.
And your tea is great...
The windows are covered by long curtains, the ones Leo rushes to open, with his paws that seem to handle everything with the same skill as a human with five fingers in perfect condition.
"What our young client owes to the torment of seeking my master?" The cat asks, softly, without any pretension.
"She looks for me because I'm the best, Leo." And Hongbin replys, still higher, searching for the book, a book you can not even guess at nature, since you prefers to sit perfectly, watching everything while drinking your tea.
It's too much for a simple human to sue. And see, you haven't connected the dots yet...
Until the first curtain is open and through the window you see the full and deep blue. You watch for seconds, as Leo opens the next curtain, and imagine with yourself how beautiful the sky is until...
A fish passes.
"What do we have for dinner?" Hongbin asks, scrolling through the pages of some book, eyes half closed, completely focused.
"Roasted fish with onions, my lord," Leo responds, the second curtain opens, revealing yet another large shoal of fish swimming. You scream internally, your eyes widen and then, you realize where you are.
"Again?"
"If you gave me my hat back I could go out and buy ostrich meat at the market, my lord, since it is your favorite."
"You know damn well that it's too dangerous to get out with the hat."
"Oh, what a terrible and cruel maester I have." Leo emphasizes in a sigh, dramatically.
"I can hear you, Leo." And Hongbin smiles, glancing down at the cat that walks toward the third window, stopping to watch the fish swimming. And this is indeed what you are thinking; you are in a castle, under the sea.
"You do not have anything to fear," the smile reaches out to you, who has huge eyes facing the window, where some more fish pass, "we can see the fish but it does not mean the same to our little friends."
Swallowing, the tea is still warm in the cup, and Leo, the talking cat, stares at you for a few seconds, then comes to get the teapot and pour more tea for you.
"Not a lady of many words, right?" He asks, finishing of filling your cup again. You look at him suspiciously, anyway, how could you respond? So, you twist your lips. "What happened to the girl, my lord, some nasty cat ate her tongue?"
You choke on the tea that barely entered your mouth: you're a cat too, smarthead! the exclamation fills your head, but nothing is able to leave.
"It's nothing more than the reason she's here," Hongbin laughs loudly, rolling his eyes at the servant, then glancing at you. "Leo is not a cat, young lady, he's a Familiar..."
Your eyes might fall out of their sockets if possible, and Hongbin let out another loud laugh, the book still open and well propped on his hand. How can he hear you? You wonder, much more frightened than intrigued, because his eyes penetrate deep into your eyes.
Hongbin shrugs, with a faint arrogant smile. As if he could actually read your mind, just as he read the open book in the palm of his hand. With one step forward, in the air, he jumps off the ladder at a height that could easily match the height of four men.
Landing with extreme ease, like a feather hitting the ground.
Who is he?! You finally exclaim to yourself, finally connecting each of the points, getting up from the chair with a leap...
"The pleasure is all mine, young lady!" The voice rumbles through the corners, and Hongbin has a huge luster on his lips, which is nothing but a big smile, raising his arms, his coat floats and he bows, "here you have, the honor of meeting the Great Blue Wizard. "
And a drumbeat sounds, it's like fireworks are rising above your head; and it really has, exploding into little bright ones, close to the ceiling, as feasts are fired.
"I know you have many questions, and oh, how amazing to know the So Famous, beautiful, and Splendid Blue Wizard..." And he continues, as he raises his torso, an extreme glow taking his face, speaking too fast, while you did not even sue the fact of being mute and in the body of a child... "But we can leave the thanks for later, right? I do not like being flattered or anything-"
"Sir?" Leo cleared his throat.
"Oh heavens, Leo, not again." Hongbin's hands go straight to the face, rubbing his face. "Can't you see that you're disturbing my magical moment with the young lady?"
"Ah, yes, my lord, pardon..."
"So where did I stop?" And he nods, turning his eyes to you, who is completely static, watching the whole show unfold. "Oh! Yes…"
"But I think you're frightening her, my lord." And this is what happens, right after Hongbin turns his face with a nice straight smile to the servant; you fall hard on the floor. "I said, sir... No one likes fireworks," Leo growled, already knowing that it would be a task for him to take you to the floors above.
The tick-tack fills the bedroom, the sheets are thick, full and fluffy, there are so many pillows of so many colors, and the bed is too big, so large that it could fit a sleeper elephant. And there are large round windows, next to a large clock embedded in the wall, in place of the numbers there are suns, stars and moons; a weekly watch, because the hours are already so stressful to be in a guest room. And just below the great pendulum, there is a fireplace that crackles silently.
You wake up with a grunt, your fingers sinking and smoothing the sheets, which are so soft to the touch, but still, so strange.
"Changed the sheets, mama?" You grunt, half smile, poking your face into the pillow, which is actually innumerable. "It smells so good..." you grumble again.
"I had a dream so strange and..." you keep talking... but the point is, that you do not listen to your own voice. Your eyes open at once, just as you give your cat leap that just got a shower of ice water, because the memories of the last day hit you right in.
Meanwhile, downstairs...
"Why do I have a bad feeling, Leo?" Hongbin grunts, the blue threads are a little messy, and his eyes get lost for a few seconds, again well supported at the top of the stairs, is already the fiftieth book he takes to leaf through; about breaking a spell of dumbness.
"Because this are beyond your abilities, maester." Leo responds from below, sipping tea, eyes slightly closed in pleasure after filling his belly, mustaches lifting up so does not touch the cup.
"There!" Hongbin throws the book to the top, which lands with a crash on the floor. "Very funny, Leo, is this why I signed you and not your brother?"
"Can we not remember the mistakes of my past, in which I greatly regret it, my lord?" There is a mixture of anguish and much, but much rancor in the voice of the cat that actually; It's not a cat.
"What was his name again?" His fingers go up to his chin.
"Hakyeon, my lord."
"That's it," he waved his finger in the air, the cup, which was positioned on top of the tray, rises, floating toward him, "and being a great and incredible master, I will not put you on the street, much less hire your brother in the your place."
Leo let out a faint sigh, his fluffy paws returning to the cup. And Hongbin soon mumbled again, flipping through the next book he reached and the shelf was already almost empty. It seemed useless. He sighs heavily, throwing the fifty-first book on the huge pile that formed below.
"I am afraid to know who could help you in this service, sir." Leo's voice echoes low, and Hongbin looks over his shoulder, half already predicting what would come.
"Oh, no..." He sighs a second time.
"Rhosalia is one of the most learned sorceresses of ancient magic, my lord." And there goes the fifty-second book, thrown at Leo's feet, only because of his quick reflexes, which made him deflect.
"Was that to hit me?"
"Oh, no, Leo, I'm just testing the reflexes of my noble servant."
"Rethink about asking Rhosalia for help."
"Not in a million years will I beg for help for that evil woman, Leo." Hongbin grunts under his breath, if not for the bruised pride, that it was for the tightness in his chest.
"Oh, well, then spend these thousand years trying to unravel this mystery," he sighed, clapping his paws at each other.
"A mystery that has barely begun is not a mystery, my dear!" And he exclaims, completely refusing to give up.
When then, the thuds echo heavy through the winding ladder. You're coming down at full speed.
"And oh, well, I believe our client has awakened, my lord."
The book closes, as Hongbin open a huge smile on his face.
"Great!" He exclaims, something going through his head as the neurons re-start at full speed.
And when you place your feet on the bottom steps, you are screaming inside, Leo can not hear, no one can hear how much you want to throw everything up and declare that you are completely out of your senses.
"Calm down, little lady," but Hongbin seems to listen perfectly, or at least, can read the words stuck deep in your eyes. "Calm down, because we have so much to do."
We have?! your head exclaims.
"Well," he says, coming down the ladder of books so easily that it makes a certain shame appear on your face, all because you are a complete mess. "It is clear to me that you can not afford for my services..."
You bite the tongue, after all, had never thought of the detail that you have to pay! And Hongbin opens a beautiful smile as he approaches, a smile that completely paints your cheeks in red.
"Then you must give me a hand."
A little hand... A little-tiny help... That was what Hongbin, the blue wizard, the incredible unnamed magician, faceless, and blue-haired, bright smile and arrogant voice, said. And it had been a full week since you had listened to such words, and you just could not imagine that the help would be summed up in the most diverse works, from the most risky ones like; to sneak into burrows of hypogriffes to steal their feathers, even the simplest—or not so much—as; put all the books back on the shelves in alphabetical order.
And in a week, you were getting used to it, especially with the days you simply stayed in the castle, taking care of the cleaning, taking care of the meals, while Hongbin disappeared for God knows where.
Until, on a beautiful sunny morning, you hardly knew how you had stopped in that situation. Although, walking with a Wizard and his Familiar would never yield to the most usual situations. But there you were, in an unknown continent, in the great capital of Bersin, in which you had only heard about.
That's how your story with Hongbin really began.
"Well," and straight ahead was none other than Prince George, mortal enemy of the great capital of Altha, "it is astonishing that you has such devices in your power, sir..."
"Leo." And right in front of you, wearing a large top hat with a purple ribbon, was none other than Leo, in his true for—theoretically—with his white hair and legs just so long, wearing a nice suit.
"I've never heard of a magician named Leo," the Prince, who was not even young, scratched his beard, deeply examining Leo's static eyes, who was holding a large suitcase in his hands.
"He is new to the business, my lord." On the left, the man in a handsome but normal suit, muttered, his voice artificially coarse, running his fingers through his huge black beard: it was false, as false as the mustache that covered most of the nose, as false as the black wig.
Within a week you've had too much of Hongbin's disguises.
"I see," the Prince nodded, half-closing his eyes. "Do I know you from somewhere, sir?"
Leo, you and Hongbin swallowed at the same time and could not be sweating more colder, in perfect sync, because a single thing could happen if Prince George found out; heads would roll, yours too, for sure.
"Ah, my lord, I do a lot of business in the world." It was the best excuse he had found, and luckily it had been good enough to free them from suspicion.
No better disguise? You exclaimed without a voice, rolling your eyes at Hongbin.
"What are you talking about?" Hongbin whispered, leaning slightly, scratching his beard. "This is my best."
"For a moment, it reminded me of a dirty magician with whom I had the misfortune to do business!" George exclaimed. Making Hongbin readily put himself back in place.
"I believe he was a very blatant mage, sir," Leo commented, grinning nervously. And you swallowed hard. Hongbin bit his tongue.
"A tremendous of a cheeky! I'll be glad to have his head in the top of the flag of my castle..."
Great, Hongbin! You exclaim to yourself.
"What?!" And Hongbin grunted back, mumbling in the struggle to keep a smile.
We're going to die!
"It's all under control," he returned, with a smile that you could be sure of conveying everything, less reassurance. But all was to unfold quietly, when the Prince pulled out a fat sack, handing it to Leo.
Hongbin's eyes lit instantly, and you took a deep breath, both relief and revolt at being in such a risky state.
"I said that everything would go well," Hongbin whispered, apparently still incredulous in his own words, and when both three were headed for the door, it was heard:
"Mr. Leo?" And the three froze a few inches from the grand door. "Why do you have a tail?"
A thousand and one excuses went through Hongbin's head, and of his also, indeed, a thousand and one possibilities of getting dead passed in his head in the second seconds, because when Hongbin turned with a handsome one of a cheeky smile...
The fake beard fell.
"You!" And the scream echoed throughout the castle. "Hongbin!!" The first instinct of both three summed up simply to run: the top hat was pulled from Leo's head, returning to be a cat in a magic pass. But not even so magically, Hongbin pulled the wig and the fake mustache, catching you in the arms.
And you might be more worried about the more than a hundred guards chasing you, you might be worried about your life, but you're not, because, in the minutes that took until Hongbin did something, opening a huge door in a mirror, you shrank holding on to his neck, much more worried about the reason to why your heart was beating so fast... And no, it was not the fear of having a head rolling down your neck. And yes, maybe it was because you was suddenly pulled so hard into Hongbin's arms.
And in the morning, during a normal day, without these crazy adventures, you would pick up your basket and open the fifth door of the hallway, which led to the street of the merchants of the city of Altha, since you were now responsible for buying the freshest vegetables.
As you turned away from the path of the most hasty people, you heard: "... Blue Wizard..." a voice whispered, and inevitably your feet stopped, ears sharpened.
"Are you talking about the charlatan wizard?" The girl next to the sir laughed, against the fingers of her raised hand in front of face.
That's right, a charlatan wizard. And that's what you had to force yourself to remember, after three full weeks, it was something you had to keep in mind; in how much Hongbin was a tremendous of a filthy soul...
Yes.
Oh, but how hard it really was to believe it, in the countless new rumors you listened to. Even when in the dead of night, it was not uncommon for you to wake up with the noises echoing down below, and on your toes you would descend, step by step.
To find Hongbin returning so late in the morning, completely out of his senses, chattering like a parrot about absurd things in which you had even doubted to believe or not, and well, after so much you witnessed, it is hard not to come to believe in something.
"Are you still awake?" But his tone, as he saw you coming down the last few steps, his hand closed to his chest, made it clear that it was not one of those nights, but rather the quietest, of which Hongbin looked extremely quiet, without even giving you a whole word.
Where have you been? Yours eyes flashed, frowning.
The truth is that Hongbin was not even sure how he could hear the voice expressed through the glitter of your eyes, as if he could so easily hear the voice of your soul.
"I brought this for you, little lady." He smiled, head down. And the bags appeared over the huge sofa. You did not care about the gifts, maybe they were clothes, or ribbons for your hair, but that was not what you cared about. "Please rest." And without another word, he passed you, going up two steps in the stairs.
It was these times, when no words came out of his lips, no bright smile, not even a pompous phrase in arrogance, that you felt your chest tightening with extreme cruelty; it was so hard to believe the rumors.
"What have you been worried about, girl?" Leo asked one afternoon as you furiously sliced an enormous radish in preparation for dinner.
The castle kitchen was so large that it would be easy to get lost if it were not for Leo to guide you. And you snorted in response, looking at the cat with huge mustaches. Obviously Leo did not understand the words stuck in your head like Hongbin understood, but he could see the frown on your face that was so apparent.
"Whatever it is..." And then he quietly dictated, paws balancing the big board where a fish of red scales was perfectly sliced. "Get out of your head."
Well, how silly, you frown, putting your hands on waist, how can you not bother with...?
"Not everything is within your reach to be solved," he whispered, the board laid heavy on the sink, picking up the newly purchased carrots in the basket. "And if something is not within your reach, it's not up to you to worry."
The words sounded low, but you twist your lips, your eyes drop, and your chest tightens by inches. Hongbin worries you so much...
With eyes slightly drowning in tears you do not understand, you take the knife to continue slicing the radish.
"Since you arrived we have more happiness in the castle." And the words escaped through Leo's mustache, and your, now, not-so-small fingers stop again. "Before, it was so quiet, and my master was always gone." He sighs, slicing the carrots, and in the large pot the thick broth bubbled.
Your eyes widen slightly, not expecting to hear such kind words from Leo.
"I worried so much when it happened." And he continues to speak, as if there was no one listening to his grunts as he sliced the carrots, pouring everything into the pan. "I thought Hongbin would never recover, and it's been years."
You kept listening, slicing the radishes again, after all, everything would have to be ready soon.
"It is not easy for a young prince to be deceived like this..." But your throat choked, and the knife lost the way. A mute exclamation filled your mouth, for there was suddenly so much blood in your hand.
The bandage was neatly tied in your left hand and did not hurt any more as you hastened your steps, clutching the heavy dress, struggling to not trip over your own feet.
All that you wanted, as the music echoed along the walls beside your steps with his—or her, in that case—was to slap the face of Hongbin, who was just ahead of you, with equally hurried steps, and by the way he walked, was already used to dressing as a woman; and to take potions to become one as well.
He stopped suddenly, causing you to face his gaudy dress.
"How's my make-up?" She asked, turning to you.
Choking, you frowned: that's a bad plan!
"It's the tenth time you tell me the same thing, young lady, are you getting deaf too?"
Of course you wished you had enough height to slap him in the face. And Hongbin smiled as he saw your longing expressed in your face.
"Believe me, I'll be fine this time."
You cross your arms, still not believing that Hongbin actually took a transmuting potion: I can not believe your words, Hongbin.
And without you waiting, he opened his smile even more, his fingers going to your strands of hair, smoothing delicately; and luckily, you just blushed no more because you saw only a woman who briefly remembered the face of the blue-haired wizard.
"I promise, young lady, I will not disobey my words."
And maybe it was just one of his trickery, the play on words, to finally enter the hall, opening the doors with a crash. Of course pretending to be a young duchess from the north to seduce Prince Hyuk was a bad plan, but you can not stop him.
Then, hours later, snooping around the castle with a change of clothes under your arm, you slipped past the guards, waiting for Hongbin in the tenth corridor leading to the lake, as well as combined: idea that you also refused to accept...
But there you were, taking advantage of the silence of the night to try to forget the gentle touch of Hongbin's fingers in your hair when...
Boom!!
You jumped with the explosion, the smoke took over in a matter of seconds and through your head only one thing happened: of course that's the part of the plan that he forgot to tell me!
"Quick!" And there was the said wizard, coming out of the curtain of dust, the dress barely fitting in the body because the potion had ceased to effect. "Give me the clothes!"
You did it, throwing the change of clothes against Hongbin's face, but no time for any quarrels or grunts, you heard the shouting of the guards and, already knew how much you two would have to run.
Well, you two ran like never before this time. But it was not the first time that Hongbin disguised himself as a woman to deceive a high-ranking youth. Much less the last...
Just like it was not even the last time he got you into such trouble, it actually became natural that you were always with him; at least to make sure he would not kill himself with some stupidity.
The waves dance on the sand, as the wind smelled salty, striking against your face, as if he wiped it away and took away any worry; it is the ability of the ocean to drown the shadows in pursuit. You look at the horizon, where the sea is confused with the sky that was so blue, with few clouds gliding.
Your dress of the day is yellowish, because it resembles the spring sun: as Hongbin would say with a beautiful smile. He is walking a few steps forward, conversing with his faithful servant, who is, miraculously, wearing his beloved hat that gives him the real shape.
You sigh, holding the hat with a large red ribbon in place, the smile on your face is kind and deeply sweet. Sounds like a dream, does not it? When everything is quiet, when you can see the steps sinking in the wet sand.
"And how is our friend Howl?" As Leo grunts about things you do not know for sure what it might be.
"A wedding. Can you believe that?" Hongbin smiled back.
The small smile on Leo's face is purely a slight disgust.
"Should be thinking of yours too, my lord, you can not live forever as a bachelor."
The words cause Hongbin to bite his own tongue, the hair strands clutter with the wind, the hair is blue as the sea itself. And drawing your attention completely, you bend down to get a shell, completely oblivious to the conversation.
"I'm not a bachelor." Hongbin mumbles.
"It is not what Madame Hein Heart speaks, my lord."
The spots were orange and light brown in color across the shell, which fit into the palm of your hand. Meanwhile, further on, Hongbin was about to fight back, his tongue between his teeth, when his whole body hissed, a small alarm went off in his head.
And from the shell countless little paws came out through the crevice, you drop the shell down, watching the crab dive in the sand, listening at last, through the sea breeze:
"We have customers in Liör." Hongbin says, with a half face of surprise.
You have never heard of the city in question, not until this day, when you headed toward the fourth door of the great hallway that was just below the stairs, was the door that had a great symbol of a moon carved in the wood, was the door that you had never seen opened: not for Leo, much less for Hongbin.
But this day, still in your spring-sun dress and with Leo pulling out his top hat, fur reappearing with a snap of fingers, you finally understood why the door was never opened.
At least, partly...
The house is small, there is only a first floor, and no sign of a kitchen, so little space that you need to blink twice, making sure it is not a simple optical illusion. You were aware of the fact that Hongbin owns several stores spread out across cities, but you never imagined that there would be such a tiny one.
But still, nice, you thought as you sat, looking around, with Leo already rushing through the preparations, putting everything in place, putting the water on fire to make his customary teas.
And with his fingers running through the strands of hair, Hongbin takes one last look around to make sure everything is in place, he looks at you, especially deep in his eyes, saying quietly,
"Here my name is Estephan," in a whisper, the strands of hair turning blond with a simple touch, eyes heavy. "Understood?"
You nod, swallowing; a shiver of tension going through the body, you fear for those who are just behind the door painted in moss green, fear for what may happen as soon as Hongbin opens the door...
Because after all, you always fear for his life.
And at once, putting his hand firmly on the doorknob, the door wood groans for so long without moving, and you swallow dry for the last time when you see the door opening.
But the fear stayed there, caught in the middle of the road.
"Oh, dear Estephan!" Because the only thing that happens is a young lady jumping around to tie her arms around Hongbin's neck. Then, you understood why Hongbin never visited Liör, at least you thought you understood completely...
"Three days ago I stumbled falsely while walking with my dear mother..." And the woman, wearing expensive clothes, hair in curls, and a handkerchief that never left her left hand, said with a dramatic voice; it was only a swollen ankle!
And you watched everything, sitting not too many inches away, Jacqueline is the name of the girl who must surely possess many riches, and with yourself, you wonder how Hongbin got to know her: well, you can imagine as well the young woman throws herself at him.
"It still hurts, hurting so much." She continues to whimper, while Hongbin's hands examine her ankle; it's just a bloat! you grunt to yourself.
Leo puts the tray of teas on the table, and you pick the one of pink color without even thinking.
"Y/n, I do not think it's a good idea to take the leaf of sin one..." The cat whispers, slightly concerned by the deadly looks you give Hongbin and to the young lady. "The leaf is known to leave the nerves sensitive and..."
Hongbin's fingers approach her ankle, and in seconds, he puts his lips against her skin. You swallow all the tea at once.
"How do you feel now, Jacqueline?" He asks, genuinely believing the woman's words.
IT'S JUST A DAMN SWOLLEN ANKLE! You yell at yourself, practically exploding inside, but Hongbin can not look into your eyes at the moment, and soon goes away Jacqueline, with a huge smile on her face, waving goodbye to Hongbin who is much more interested in the fat tip he received.
"So Liör seems to have improved the clientele," he says, counting the coins.
And as soon as the words end, the bell rings again.
"Well, we can see the reason for the improvement in the clientele, my lord," says Leo, shortly before the door is opened, and what awaits on the other side is nothing but several versions of Miss Jacqueline, except with faces and names different, but all there, with their respective twisted ankles.
You hold yourself, still seated in the chair, enjoying the third cup of tea while watching with tedious and especially deadly eyes all happening just in front of the eyes and the wheezing sometimes happens through the body.
"My lady, I do not think it's a good idea to mix mulberry leaf tea..." Leo comments, but you ignore it by turning the fourth cup of tea.
"And then, use this blue-tinted vial every night..." And Hongbin is so focused, watching customer by customer, billing much more than in a full year, who does not notice when you bite your own lips, already too tired to notice that…
"Ah! Estephan! So much I missed you that I got sick!" Shouted the most reckless.
"Where are you, my dear Estephan? I felt such nostalgia on my loneliest nights. "And even more boldly they spoke.
After all, Hongbin is not just a charlatan, but a great womanizer.
"Uff..." he ran his fingers over his forehead, finally closing the door, passing the key, finally answering all the euphoric ladies, who at heart only wanted to get their hands back on the wizard, but then, with his eyes traversing the small room, unable to find who was looking, "where is Y/n, Leo?"
"Up there, my lord, she came up more than an hour ago."
The sight of the city of Liör caught your breath, night fell and the lights formed a sea drifting across the horizon, like lanterns floating, like the lanterns of your city, which should now be so many miles away.
You miss it, and when you realize the truth, how much you miss the mornings, the hot breads, and even the knock on Mr. Biggam's door, you lean back against the window.
"Young lady," the voice resounds behind you, and makes you turn suddenly. There's a mix of confusion on Hongbin's face. "Leo demands your presence down there..." He smiled at the corners of his lips, dimples becoming slightly apparent.
You pick up a few details on the face of Hongbin that you had not noticed before, with the half-light coming in through the window.
"Why are you up here?" He asks.
You grind your teeth, with sudden anger taking over the chest. Because you remember the reason for being there in the first place.
It's been four weeks, Hongbin! Your head shoots, eyes weighing with the frowning brow. You said you would solve all my problems! But here I am; dumb! While you care for crooked ankles!
Hongbin does not know how to react at first, looking deeply into your eyes as his eyes widen. He smiled at the corner of his mouth, lifting one of his fingers just in front of his face.
"The solution to all your problems is not quite what you think," he says with extreme confidence.
Of course, he is the great, incredible and infallible blue wizard!
It's not what it says on the poster! And you tread on the ground, beating. Looking at Hongbin's cynical face.
"And there's no line in the poster saying I'd solve all your problems," he countered, with so much confidence that it makes you open your lips in surprise, you definitely want to hit something on his face. "Only one of them..." And he softens his voice, seeing what goes deep in your eyes.
You go around the first floor thinking about so many things at once, especially in this, that you do not even know why you did not think of it before; to leave.
"But look," and Hongbin steps forward, raising his arms slightly, with a small crooked smile but still too bright for your taste, "I solved one!"
You to your feet, looking at you with huge eyes:
Resolved? One?
Approaching the blue-haired magician, who still has a smile on his face, now even greater as he sees your expression shift from the homicidal revolt to the anxious curiosity.
How and when? You ask, only with the voice deep in your eyes, and heavens, Hongbin realizes with a snap of how much he loves how your voice echoes in his head in this way; as if it were so natural.
Then he opens an even bigger smile.
"A house! And a job... Theoretically speaking" corrected, looking for the best words. "And that adds to two problems in one solution!"
Your eyebrows rose, with even more confusion and curiosity.
And which house? What job?
Hongbin's smile should have already said it all, you should be able to guess only by how many times you've seen that same smile.
"You are my assistant as of today, young lady."
And words do not even come out, neither of your throat, neither of your soul.
It sounds like a joke worthy of Hongbin. But it is not.
"You're welcome," he says at last, still with a smile on his face. And he expects some reaction from you, the one that does not come, instead, you close your expression, even more. "What? Didn't you like it? "
Would not that be the words, right? Because you take the first thing you find on the way, and a rough book flies through the air, straight into Hongbin's face, and just does not hit him right away because he swerves.
"This is the most peculiar way of thanking-"
I'm not a child, Hongbin! And your eyes are so furious that makes the words bitter in Hongbin's tongue; he feels anguish for the first time in so many years. Do not you dare treat me like a child like that!
"I do not see you as a child, Y/n, I never saw." And he walks a few steps. "I can see in your soul, in your manner, and I'm working to bring you to..."
And all you want is that he does not come any closer, so another book flies, the one that hits Hongbin's face in full.
I miss my home! My true body! You scream, at least that's what your eyes express as your mouth does not move, as more books fly through the air. And all you do is play around?! I thought I could trust you!
"Please understand, it's not as easy as-"
But you're just a charlatan...
"Y/n!" Hongbin exclaims, the wood shudders, but another book flies, and it flickers, still interrupting any word.
Just a womanizer! And the silence comes without any delay. Hongbin's lips linger, and your eyes are flooded, flooded without you even noticing.
Just leave me alone, Hongbin.
Hongbin stares at you, for minutes, you can see the pride parted in half on his face, the way the strands are misaligned, and the way he looks away, turning his back on you, saying,
"If that's what you want, young lady, that's what I'll do. Because, who am I but a charlatan to say to the contrary." And as if plunged into a trance, you only realize everything that escaped your lips when you hear the door closing.
It's almost like every night that Hongbin disappears before ten o'clock at night, but still, so different...
The night is especially cold in the town of Liör, especially busy at Madame Rorschiel's ladies' house, located on the farthest streets of the center, where the girls whispered excitedly, where smiles on red lips are especially thought to return gold coins.
It was so quiet in the night, there were not many visitors, and they all kept in this warm tedium, at least until the moment the front door opened, and when the bright eyes saw who it was. The chaos was done.
Hongbin did not like this mess that somehow always accompanied him when he was in Liör, because there were so many things there that he wanted to leave behind, as if a shadow hung forever in his head, in his pursuit.
Especially when he was standing there.
"How long, Master Estephan ..."
"You here?…"
It had been so long since he'd stepped foot in there, and in the midst of the bustle of girls crowding around him, Hongbin wrinkles his lips, is not there for this or that, then he pushes his way through the tumult.
"Excuse me, girls, but I'm not here to have fun." And with measured education, both in words and hands as he pulled them out of the way, Hongbin smiled awkwardly.
"Well, then, for what you came?" Asked one of the girls, the youngest. Hongbin had his own motive to be there, but the truth was that he was already deeply regretting. But it was so late, when he heard the voice, serenely sliding through the air:
"He's here to see me, girls." From the top of the stairs, her tongue sliding like a snake, there she was.
Hongbin's eyes shone, deep, a cold, melancholically hostile gleam, whispering between his lips:
"Rhosalia." This was her name, for which she answered with a slender smile.
"Shall I know what brings you here?" The tongue danced once more, fingers running through the wood as it descended the steps.
And Hongbin swallowed, with a heavy sigh. He looks deep into her green eyes, between strands of golden hair. How long have he not been doing this? How long had he not looked into her eyes without feeling his heart ignite in anger?
"I came looking for help." Feeling the touch of the icy hand close to his torso. So much sacrifice, for what? Why?
"Well," she smiles, becoming the true serpent she is. "And why does young Estephan want my help?" Hissing, she purrs.
"A spell," Hongbin looks away. "A spell placed by the Witch of the North."
Her eyes shine, intensely, tilting her head, searching Hongbin's eyes again.
"Then we'll talk about what you can pay me back, Prince Estephan..."
Late at night, there were small tears rolling down your cheeks, and you sobbed intensely as the bubbles and fish floated out your window, the bed was too big for your body, just like the pillow you clung to. The fire in the fireplace did not seem to be enough to heat you.
It's a deaf thump echoing down there that makes you jump out of bed. There is a crash of glass shattering and a faint buzz of voices mingling. You go to the bedroom door in a hurry, past the reflecting mirror to reveal your not-so-young image—something you do not notice, longer legs, less childish features—opening the door, all noises rises, and you go down the stairs with more haste still.
"My lord," Leo is whimpering. "What kind of trouble has you gotten into now?"
Hongbin is lying on the couch, eyes wandering and a more than foolish smile on his face, cheeks are flushed and you feel the anger start to burn in your chest.
"Quick, girl. Help me, Master Hongbin is under the influence of a spell... "
The tick-tack of watches fill your ears, the fire is already lit, and there is so much gold, purple and red that your eyes hurt, there are jewels studded in the corners of the ceiling, between the glass that lets the deep blue reflections come in.
And after much trouble, you and Leo succeed to throw Hongbin's body on the bed with the face sinking into the huge pillow.
"I'll be back in a second," Leo whispers, now, more breathless than ever, his paws caressing his back, "I'll bring hot tea."
And you, seeing Leo leaving the room, think of going to help him just when your hears the grumble coming from the almost unconscious blue-haired hill, still sunk on the pillow.
You come closer, to listen better.
"Stay," he says, almost inaudibly.
And between the bluish reflections of bubbles floating just above your head, you stay, sitting in the huge armchair right next to the bed where Hongbin fidgets one hour or another. He is plunged into a deep trance, which makes him smile like a fool between babbling sentences, meaningless.
And your feet are swaying, it is impossible to reach the ground. Watches are numerous on the walls and you wonder if you ask why so many, when...
"Do you hate me?" The words escape, you startle, your feet stop rocking above the floor, and your eyes go directly to Hongbin's face, still sunk against the pillow with the messy strands.
He is looking directly at you, with a painful tip in the back of his eyes.
You shake your head, hardly.
"That's good," he mutters, smiling again silly, "that's very good, Margó."
The slap directly hits the top of Hongbin's head that even complains of the pain. And you can leave the room, go away and go back to sleep, but you stay there, listening to the nonsense grunts of a magician with blue hair.
Blue hair as the sea.
Why is there a castle hidden deep in the sea, and what evil would it have to stay there? In a magician's room trapped under a spell even more foolish than himself?
You sigh. Your feet are swaying again, and Leo is taking so long. Fish swim carefree but you worry. It is impossible to take your eyes off Hongbin's blue strands, or forget Leo's words.
Without any warning, your fingers are already on Hongbin's hair, and his expression seems to ease. And then it closes, weighing with a dense shadow, Hongbin tightens the pillow, with extreme force.
"Rhosalia," and grunts between his teeth, your fingers stop, retracting. "It is my promise, Rhosalia, it is my promise that I will take revenge on this..."
And there is no more babbling word, but there is a thread of pain in his chest, as if you could feel all the pain of the blue-haired wizard who lives in a castle submerged in the sea.
The fuss of the birds singing, the chats thrown in the wind, and the smell of fresh apples are all that fills the street, while you hold your basket, the clothes tightly tightened, as well as the shoes.
You're in a hurry to get the best vegetables from the market, with a few coins in your pockets. But as soon as you see the window, crossing the second corner, still listening to the conversations in the background, you stop right there.
How can you forget the big prom? Your throat grips when your lips open in surprise, it's the most beautiful dress you've ever laid eyes on in all your life, the fabric in pink lines, the white silk and...
You do not delay in entering the store, the heart consumed by the glitter in the eyes. The price is high, but that's not what makes you twist your lips. How could a child's body fit into a dress made for a lady? You sigh heavily, apparently you will miss your long-awaited dance.
"Well, well, my young lady," you jump to a fright as you listen, and especially as you notice the gray-haired lady at your side, with a huge, ungainly smile. "Why so much sadness in the eyes? Is not it a day of happiness for a young women today? "
The lady analyzes you with her eyes, opening the expression in understanding for your depressed state.
"But look, my dear," and her wrinkled hands weave themselves through the cloth, taking the heavy dress and she almost fell back, barely balancing herself.
You help her, with as much as you can, almost falling together. And when everything seems in order, the lady is still smiling at you.
"See," she spins, the dress spins too and shines, literally shines. "Even the younger ones deserve to have fun, do not you think?"
You twist your nose, at the same time agreeing and, you do not understand anything of what she say; she seems to have one less screw.
"It's a magic dress! Wear it and he will listen to your heart. Do not want to try?"
And on the cold night. The balloons lit up the skies and the streets were deserted, everyone was in the Great Ball, and there was only this lady running, holding tight her dress, her hair caught in a bun.
The dress had done its work, there you were with your body, with your true body, but of course, without any voice. But that was not what you were worried about, not even, the voice was the least if compared to how much your heart was racing.
All because, minutes ago, you were in the great hall of the castle...
That's it. You bought the dress and escaped late in the afternoon through the back door, which led to the street of the vegetable fair. The fantastic thing was that you did not need to mislead Hongbin, but only Leo—namely, it was enough to throw the ball of wool far away. And even more fantastic was that the dress was really magical.
Partly.
For remembering; your voice is still stuck. But it does not matter so much, what you want is to be at the ball, to listen to good music and to dance and that's what you get, without great difficulties.
Music fills your ears with the most beautiful notes and you must hold your satisfied laughter in view of such a beauty of the great hall, such is the beauty of the whole ball, the jewels ornamenting the necks, the beauty of the footsteps...
It's your night away from more trouble, so you do not refuse when a handsome young man invites you to a dance, and without any word—you know—you accept with a subtle smile, being led by the gentleman to the middle of the great hall.
"What do you think of the ball?" The boy, who has a bright aura, asks subtly next to your ear.
You nod, without a word, looking into the eyes of the young man dressed in white robes, his blond hair combed back, and a beautiful smile formed between his lips.
"I am very glad to know that such a beautiful lady is enjoying my dance."
You nod again, and it turns out that the words are only processed in your head with a few seconds of delay. Then your smile kind of petrifies: it is none other than Prince Jaehwan!
And there you are, dancing with a prince. But it does not look so magical, at least, not the way you imagined it. And then, the prince realizing your lack of disposition, or more specifically; lack of speech.
"If it's not too much of an invasion." He asks, "What name should I call you?"
You freeze from head to toe, music stops and dance couples scatter to make way for new couples. Prince Jaehwan is waiting for an answer and you are almost fainting with the pressure.
"Excuse me?" The sharp and gently voice rose high over his shoulder. "Prince, this is your night but, you're scaring the young lady here."
It is not too long that you feel the hand holding yours, pulling you away from the prince and the eminent danger that made your belly still cold.
"Princes are a very difficult species to deal with, miss." But the relief lasts so little, because when you turn to know your savior's identity, what you find is a half-mask, and the eyes are bright and sharp. "But..." What you find are the black wires, which can barely disguise, lowering slightly to kiss your hand. "May I have this dance?"
What makes you scream inside your head is not the fact of having danced with Prince Jaehwan, but the fact that the second ball dance is being spent with Hongbin; in his incredibly terrible disguise.
You are so accustomed that Hongbin could drink a potion and turn into a cat, a dog, or any other creature in the world: you would still recognize him.
How?
By the glint in the eyes, this glow that you can not escape; is something you notice in silence as you follow his footsteps while his hand is holding your hand up, the other hand placed behind your back.
There is a silence, a deep silence, but not uncomfortable, because it is like being floating well above the clouds, is this the feeling that dance with Hongbin brings. There might be no music, but it would simply be in your head.
But it does not last long, in fact, it lasts almost nothing. And then Hongbin walks away, with that smile on lips that you know so well.
He holds in your hand, depositing a kiss, but before he leaves, you unconsciously hold onto the sleeve fabric.
His eyes turn to your face, seeing your lips parted, the truth is that Hongbin knows what's happening.
Then he smiled, approaching a step and a half. You could expect everything, except what happens soon after, when your eyes open, huge, when Hongbin lowers only slightly, the face so close to yours.
He leaves a subtle touch to the corner of your lips, a soft and gently kiss, saying with a sigh, "Do not fear, we'll be more likely to share a dance soon, young lady."
Your chest breaks, all at once.
And you finally realize.
The real spell in which you have been throwed.
"For now, our time is over," he sighs, letting the cold night swallow you.
Letting your chest inflamate.
The real spell is that; you are in love with the wizard with hair as blue as the sea.
That's how, with this clash of reality of finally understand what is happening in this small but daring heart, you escape the ball, feeling the magic vanish from the skin, feeling that the body will soon return to its infantile size.
Leo knocks, altogether, eight times at the door and no answer.
"Ms? We're late for breakfast... " He sighs and on the other side of the door it sounds more like a whine too low but still audible to you, who has not slept at all night.
You swing legs in the air, the dress is tossed under the bed and your pajamas are now so loose, or it's just your head again getting accustomed to the senses of such a strangely smaller body.
Digging your face deeper into the pillows, completely curled under the sheets: it seems the restlessness never goes away from the chest, not for a second.
And you're hungry, the belly hoarse, but at the same time you aren't hungry at all. You hear a ninth knock on the door, but pretend not to listen, after all, Leo is too educated to simply enter.
And believing in that, that you will starve this morning, when blam! echoes room inside.
You jump out of bed.
Like scared cat, pulling the sheets out of the way.
"M-my lord..." says Leo.
"Wake up, young lady!" And your face is made of tomatoes at the exact same hour as you puts eyes on Hongbin's face, who have a huge smile on his lips.
He walks without hesitation to your closet, opening the doors determined to keep that tone of voice that is strange to you; but only because seconds ago there was so much calmness.
"We're leaving today!"
So you really wake up—not that you've slept anything at all—really jumping out of bed this time. Hongbin understands your exclamation even without looking on your face.
"To the mountains of Swonhill!" And there's so much excitement in his voice, exclaiming loudly, maybe even the fish are listening and standing by the window to watch what it's all about. "Choose your warmer clothes, it will be cold and for sure, the nights will be longer!"
But in your head only two things occur:
The first, of course, is the relief of realizing Hongbin not even suspect about last night.
And the second, this you only realize as soon as you see Hongbin by himself tossing his clothes out of his wardrobe, is the purest desperation.
We can not go like this! I can not-
"Of course you can." And he says. "I'm giving you permission to take a vacation, assistant."
Of course you'd slap his face. But you does not. Because he opens one of those mouth-corner smiles, showing the best angle of his dimples.
"The rumors are that there we'll have clues on how to get you and your voice back, young lady."
And you stop right there, staring at him with a sigh in your throat, you can only pull the air in and nothing else.
You love him so much...
"Of course... that's where the women are going too."
And that's where you really hit a slap on Hongbin's face. And yes, you still love the wizard with blue hair like the sea on the horizon who meets the sky, because it is there that; there is a castle where a prince lives without a kingdom, a castle on the sea.
so my notebook are in the support; and probably will not be back anytime soon
but I already have much things completed that will be posted soon; please do not give up on me!
and today I realized that we have reached 300 followers !! thank you very much to everyone, i'm so so so so happy that you all are enjoying my work <3
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• Genre: Smut, some fluff, neighbor + (soft)badboy!au.
• Pairing: Mark x Reader
• Rating: +18!
• Summary: "Mark Lee is a bad company!" And the whole neighborhood was already saying, about the boy who lived in the house just ahead, across the street.
"Do not walk with Mark Lee, he will corrupt you into the bad path." And while all the boys of the same age were at home, studying for the college exams, Mark Lee was on the street, wandering around, or doing God known what else...
Because, yes, Mark Lee was a terrible bad company, and you knew that very well.
• Word count: 12.2k jesus
Request: “can i please request a mark smut hhhh” by anon
A/N: so I'm inactive for a while to study; but I'm passing to leave this here! it turned out getting too big, sorry about that, but I can't control myself when it comes to Mark Lee!! I hope you all enjoy it... and since I was very much in doubt about the end, I left it open for each one draw their own conclusions...
"Who is he?"
It was the first words that came out of your mouth when you saw the new neighbors, when you saw the little boy get out of the car, holding the backpack that was too big for the rest of his body.
"They're the Lee." Your mother replied. "And that little boy is Mark Lee, he's the same age as you." You twisted your nose, it was a habit whenever you saw something that was not to your liking.
Your eighth year of life was marked by the arrival of that new neighbor. The house just ahead had been vacant since you were three years old, and beyond it, there was only the house next door, which was Mrs. Jeon's house.
Without any sign of boys your age. And you for so long loved the fact of having the whole street just for you and your friends. Now, you had two new neighbors, sitting on the sofa in your house and, of course, him.
"Do you want cookies?" Your lovely, kind, mother asked with a smile. Their cookies were the best of all human history; as you always said. "They're coming out of the oven right now! I think young Mark wants to prove it."
The boy, who should have been only a few months older than you, nodded so willingly, his eyes glittering, that made you twist your nose, the mouth, and if it were possible, you would twist your eyes too.
"Come on, Y/n." Your father was the one who laughed, seeing your expression of who wanted the new neighbors out of the house right then and there. "Why do not you welcome your new friend?"
The boy's eyes went straight to you, and to your face of a few friends. Then you crossed your arms. The scent of the cookies entering the room only made everything worse, and knowing that he was going to eat your mother's cookies only worsened your weakened mood.
"Hi." You grunted under your breath at the sight of your father's stiff eyes.
"Mark, dear..." His mother smiled, seeing the eight-year-old boy wearing shorts and a Spider-man shirt blushing like a sweet pepper. "Say hello to your little friend."
"He-hello..." He stammered, voice almost gone.
"So, what have you found of the neighborhood?" And then your sweet mother pulled the conversation on to another subject. "Is it as nice as Canada?"
Little-Boy-Mark thanked the adults for their sudden lack of interest. His eyes shining and his belly snoring as he stared at the tray of cookies.
And the little one was almost putting his hands on one, when he looked up at you, your expression still frowning, arms folded and face all twisted: hoping that from looking at him with that ugly expression he disappears for good.
But Mark hesitated, instead, took the cookie and reached for you.
"Want one?" He asked, voice low, completely timid.
The expression on your face loosened for seconds, but it did not last long, you were determined to make him disappear anyway. Then you looked at Mark Lee, your new neighbor, and put tongue out, doing the best grimace. That was the day you met the boy Mark Lee who lives in the front house; and you swore to yourself that you would never make friends with him.
"He's a weirdo," you told, with ten years old, to your friend, whom you always took a walk after class ended. "Mark Lee is a complete weirdo! And that's why I do not let him get into our playground."
And that was the day you forbade Mark Lee, your new classmate, to even approach your group of friends. And days later, in the interval between classes, when you torn apart yourself from your friends, you had to stop in the middle of the yard.
Mark had always been the lonely little boy, and deep down, when were ten years old, you felt so much guilty for so much loneliness. He was sitting alone, eating a large peanut-paste sandwich—his favorite one—all alone, eyes staring at his sneakers, which swayed a little above the floor.
Mark at that age was smaller than you, and he looked so fragile, that it was even easy for you to raise your hand and he would shrink in response; this happened countless times actually, but in your place, it was the older boys in school.
"What are you eating there?" You asked, and the boy's eyes widened with a fright, because your voice was the only one echoing through the courtyard, while all the laughter echoed far away.
"Peanut paste..." Mark replied, pulling back a little as you sat down next to him, watching closely the piece of bread smeared with jelly. "Peanut paste sandwich." He corrected himself.
Your legs swinged, even though you could easily reach the ground.
Looking back and forth, not quite sure what you were doing: it would be a terrible problem if someone saw you sitting next to Weirdo-Mark-Lee. And the boy, in turn, gives little glimpses through the corners of the eyes, for you.
"Can I prove it?" You asked, after a long and uncomfortable silence.
The birds sang so merrily, at least, that's what Mark noticed when he heard your words, with an embarrassed smile.
"Of... of course." He said, handing the sandwich, smiling from corner to corner, ear to ear, with a huge pink stripe in the cheeks.
The day until now was so gray, until you took the sandwich from his hands, with the greasy paste, the sky wasn't blue, the grass wasn't green, and the birds couldn't even be heard, but everything became so colorful when unwittingly the fingers touched.
The only problem was; that's how you discovered you had peanut allergy.
"Don't walk with Mark Lee." Your mother grunted a few days after leaving the hospital. "He's a bad company!"
The boy hadn't to blame in the peanut-paste incident, but your parents were so convinced otherwise that you didn't even dare to defend him.
But defending him for what?
The sun was particularly bright this day. When you were twelve, when you still used to call your friends to play in the street outside your house, and afternoons were always filled with laughter, shouting and lots of energy.
So much energy that sometimes you didn't notice the eyes of your neighbor watching everything while he passed on one time or another, stopping for a few minutes to watch more closely the mess that was made.
Mark Lee was also in his twenties, when he caught himself watching the neighbor, you, smiling at your friends. And he was already taking height, getting much bigger than you.
"Hey, the weirdo is looking over here." One of your friends said as she pulled you by the sleeve of the floral dress you wore that day. "What does he want?"
Your eyes went straight across the street, and there was Mark Lee, your and his eyes meeting at once.
"Such a weirdo..." whispered your friend, as Mark's eyes darted away, running straight into the backyard.
You and friends went back to the funny mess again without any delay, and the sun was already dimming, your mother had made cookies and lemonade, then there was Mark Lee again.
You twisted your nose, in fact, you completely twisted your expression.
Mark Lee wasn't just a weirdo who spoke that strange language in the middle of the sentences, but also a fool to be getting into the middle of your group of friends, coming directly towards you.
There was a huge smile on his face as he held out his hands to you.
"Here." He said, and you took some time to find out what was happening, but the boy stepped forward, seeing confusion on your face: "it's a gift, from me... to you."
Your little heart skipped a step, the smile on Mark Lee's face was so genuinely pure, among the spots of dirt scattered across the face, on clothes, the boy was a complete mess.
But the smile made you pick up the box with hesitant fingers.
And you looked at him again, completely ignoring what your friends whispered.
Mark Lee was your first love.
"Open." He said, with anxious voice. You did, pulling on the small lid of the box, not expecting very much, but expecting anything but a huge lizard that tried to jump right in your face.
Your cry echoed throughout the city, surely. And your first childhood love lasted no more than three minutes, with a lizard that glued on your face.
Mark Lee laughed at you. And you would never forget that. Just like the times that Mark crossed the street just to stomp on your dirt castle. Or the time a ball of mud flew up straight to your face.
Or, from the time the boy bumped—on purpose—at you just to drop all your books, knowing how late you were to math classes.
Or, the other time he spent the whole class throwing little balls of chewed paper on your head, just to make you scream in the middle of the literature class: of course you made a trip to the board, just you, and no sign of him.
"Mark Lee is a bad company!" And the whole neighborhood was already saying, about the boy who lived in the house just ahead, across the street. "Do not walk with Mark Lee, he will corrupt you into the bad path." And while all the boys of the same age were at home, studying for the college exams, Mark Lee was on the street, wandering around, or doing God known what else…
And in your bedroom, with the window open to let the afternoon breeze come in, you put the strands of hair behind your ear, the books were lying on the table, and your lips moved slowly, silently dictating.
Eighteen years old brings a lot to deal with. It's the vestibular, the end of the phase in which everything is the fault of adolescence, where the phase of the almost-adult begins: in which, you neither are and at the same time are. With the fear of responsibilities and the outside world.
The room is not locked, but no one dares disturb, studies are the most sacred thing for you, because you really want to get into the university. And there are cookies in a small dish, which from time to time you tweak when you feel tired.
Well, you're always really tired, so you get up out of your chair, you're wearing your usual clothes to stay at home and it's getting too cold in the room to keep the window open.
And you'll close it when you see something across the street that catches your eye.
Mark Lee has changed so much in some things—he's much taller than you, the physical has completely changed—just as he has not changed in so many other things: still the same brat.
The bad company that every neighbor warns about, including your own parents, who have learned to practically hate the boy.
"Who could have imagined that Lee's boy would be such a bad example?" Your mother are aways commenting, especially at dinner, when you ask her to pass the salad: and you couldn't even understand the reason that the salad reminded her of Mark Lee.
Down there, across the street, you meet his eyes. Then you close the window tightly, with the shock of realizing that you were staring at him for those minutes, while you get lost thinking too much.
Mark Lee is someone you should keep away from, it's what you know, it's what they tell you, it's what your parents tell you to do. And after all, you aren't the type who confront your parents, or to disobey them. The good daughter who listens to everything is what you are and you're proud of it.
Maybe...
"Hyemi and I are thinking of studying together this Saturday." You say, as your mother tosses more rice into the plate. Your father has one eye on the television connected in the living room, and another eye on the dish.
He grunts:
"This is with your mother."
And you turn your eyes to her, almost pleading with the orbs if it were possible. It had been more than a week since you'd been combining the pajama party with your best friend and company—you needed that rest from studying anyway, so a lie would not hurt, right?
"Please, Mom?" You whimpered, frowning at your mother who seemed to think deeply as she pierced the mini-tomato against the plate.
"Okay" said after a long silence, analyzing how good your expression of an abandoned dog was. "But just to study, remember that."
Of course, the sleeping part at the friend's house to study was a blatant lie, and you were aware of it. But the part you didn't know was how the pajama party had turned into a nightclub.
"Relax, Y/n!" Commented the friend dragging you by the arm, club inside, raising the voice to the maximum to be audible in the loud sound that was almost bursting your eardrums. "You need to learn to relax! Forget all this thing of doing everything right."
That's how you took a deep breath looking at your friend, feeling the smell of cigarette and alcohol soaked in the air, feeling like a complete outlaw.
Your parents were supposed to be asleep at that time, thinking their daughter was studying, but it was two o'clock in the morning and you were wearing one of your friend's dresses, nothing discreet, and a nice pair of heels that you could barely balance. The makeup was another part you didn't know how had stopped in your face.
It didn't seem like a bad idea at first, when you sat in the bar, listening to the absurd yet fun-filled conversations of your best friend, at least until you get completely lost when you heard your friend asking for the strongest drink from the house; you don't drink at all.
And it actually seemed like an absurd idea, when you realized that your friend had brought company, that it wasn't you, but her boyfriend, Lee Taeyong.
No one would see the best friend clinging her boyfriend, and that was not different for you, who stood up, balancing yourself with precariousness in the heels. Whoever could see you crossing the hall, bumping and bustling through people, could imagine that there was so much alcohol in your veins.
But there wasn't, it was just the damn heels, which you hated so much to take them off as soon as you put your feet out from the nightclub.
"Yes, yes, let's relax, Y/n" grunting under breath, you pull the heel from your left feet, finally feeling the relief of having feet flat on the floor, with the cold passing through the skin. "Relax there while you see my boyfriend stuffing his tongue in my throat."
A few more grunts, about subjects you would solve later, and a few more steps forward, between the darkness of the street, post blinking from minutes to minutes, you felt the icy air reach the body.
"Hey, kitty." As the moment you felt the shiver rise up the spine.
You learned not to look at guys like that, and that's what you did, hurried up, face down, saying nothing.
"Ow, ow!" But what you didn't learn is that guys like that don't care when the pretty girl who walks alone at night doesn't seem interested. "Where do you think you're going?" The hand held firmly on your arm.
Great, great, great...
"Let me go." The words lock in your mouth, as you turn to push him, hands are weak, but still something comes out, something that is only a slight push.
"Is the kitty sassy?" And the man smiles, you can feel the alcoholic breath reaching your face and for seconds you think about how fucked up you are…
You close your eyes. And everything goes in your head.
How much you shouldn’t hide things from your parents.
How much...
"Hey! Get your fucking hands off her." Someone exclaims, on the darkness of the nearest alley, between a certain mess of noise, and few seconds after you feels the body being pulled hard.
"Calm down, man!"
You open eyes without even noticing that you had them closed with the fear of the eminent danger. The warmth you feel comes from the torso on which you are being pressed against. Hands are firmly on your shoulder.
"Get the hell out of here before I wreck that cuckold face." With frightened eyes being directed upward, you recognize the voice, recognize the features, and aren't sure if you can feel relief or more fear. "Get out! Get out of my face!" Because the growls are ferocious...
Mark Lee looks so different from the eight-year-old boy.
"Are you okay?" And he asks, when his eyes finally lower, looking into your eyes. In seconds, your heart is in free fall. It's like floating. And you shake your head in positive: even though you're feeling light-headed.
And a few minutes later, you walk down the street, silently, cringing against the jacket, while the owner is a few feet ahead. The smell emanating from the coat on your shoulders is dangerously warm.
The moon illuminates parts of the streets in which the light poles can not reach, just as Mark's silhouette may vanish from time to time, between the transition of lights: once in yellow, again in blue.
And you can not take your eyes off his back. He grew so much.
"What's the need for that?" He stops, turning to you, a laugh laced to his lips. And soon, you stop too, keeping that distance between, distance marked by the light of the pole, right in the middle.
"Of what?" You asks, pulling on his coat to cover more of your indiscreet clothing; really hoping he will not see more of your cleavage.
"That." He nods back, pointing to the floor; you do not understand, blinking quickly. "You don't have to keep that distance from me, miss right."
You take a step back, Mark laughs.
"And who can make sure you're not going to fool with me, Mark Lee?" You asks, one more step being taken, as you see him taking a step forward.
"I'm not going to fool with you." He still laughs, practically loving the way you twist your nose. "Trust me. Just this once."
Frowning, you give your vote of confidence: "10 meters, and nothing less." Limited confidence, because you feel that it is too dangerous to be near Mark Lee.
"I saved you from the clutches of a monster and that's how you thank me?" He turns his back, you can see the way he shrugs, heading down the road in the middle of the night.
And you do not bother to say anything else, even if the silence bothers you deeply, being with or talking to Mark seems to be much more uncomfortable—and this would be for you the most natural explanation for why your heart is in a sea of mismatch.
"Why are you doing this?" Then you let your mouth move, taking the question from your head.
"Hm?" He turns his face lightly, still giving no respite to the footsteps that echo as has his hands tucked into the pockets.
"Why are you bothering to take me home, Mark Lee?" Asking, you feel the voice catch, the sky is so clear above your head, and that would be able to take your breath away: if there were still any remaining in your lungs.
"Well... I live on the same street as yours, remember, miss right?" He shrugs, quickly, when finally arriving at the corner of your house.
Of course, of course that would be it, you think quickly, before giving the three steps. Why else would Mark Lee leave you at the door of your house?
"Y/n." But Mark calls, still you take the second hop, making you lose a step from the feets and then, also from the heart: "Do not walk alone around dawn, beautiful girls end up attracting attention, especially assholes like those."
He gives you a wink, and a gentle smile: and that could be considered one of Mark Lee's ways to fool around. You twisted the nose at him, as if to say you was not hit.
"Good night, Mark Lee."
"Good night, miss right."
But a shy smile was what took your lips as you entered the front door, still with Mark's coat on shoulders. It was a wild night, mainly because seconds later you were caught in the act by your mother, who was patiently waiting for you in the living room.
It is no joke, or simply by popular saying, when they say that mother has sixth sense. Eight days of punishment, it was your sentence, no right to dispute, no right to cookies, nothing more than your room, your books, your notes, nothing more, not even a time out to breathe fresh air.
You could not have been more stressed, a complete pile of nerves, already on the first day of your doom week, and had not even passed the first pages of the coarse book of Biology.
And in the silence that was made, you heard the light beat; pluck.
Looking around the room, finding nothing that could have made noise, you thought you were about to go mad, when pluck! the noise rang louder, letting you know it came from the closed window, slamming against the glass.
You opened the window, and on your clock on the nightstand, the red lines marked 22 hours of the night. The backyard was a dark sea, and leaning on the parapet, you can see the figure of your newest friend but not so new neighbor.
"Mark Lee?" in a hiss, you squinted, your right hand resting on the wood, the other holding the window in place.
"No." He raised his voice, but nothing louder than a whispered hiss, just like hers. "It's just a mirage."
You felt like you could float away: a slight frustration built up in your chest, were you happy to see it?
"What are you doing here?" You asked, leaning out more, your room was on the first floor, but the fear of falling down was less than the fear of being caught again with the clutches in the crime.
"I was bored..." He shrugged. "So I came to ask how is the weather" laughing.
Mark Lee was teasing you, and that was no surprise.
"Ha-ha!" Leaning more against the parapet, the night wind reaching your face. "Very funny, Mark!"
But, heart was in the mouth, you heard the footsteps echoing beyond the door of your room; it was your mother, you were sure, so in the adrenaline of the moment you closed the window with forcefully, a huge thud echoed throughout the room.
And you practically threw yourself back in your chair, a book rolled across the floor, and you swore you were about to be picked up again when the door opened.
What your mother found was the curtains of the room floating lightly, a book lying on the floor and you sitting in the chair, face tediously propped on the right palm.
"I heard voices," your mother said suspiciously, walking two steps into the room.
You looked at her, with one of those better faces of those who do not know anything.
"Ah," you sayed, raising eyebrows. "There was an annoying bird in my window, so I had to open the window to scare him off."
The look she gave you reached the deepest of your soul, but she believed, closing the door a few minutes after leaving the warm glass of milk on the coffee table.
Pluck!, but the annoying bird does not seem to have gone as you thought, and before you open the window, another pluck! sounded, the one that made you get up from the chair again. You could have sworn you would throw a book out the window on Mark Lee's face.
"What?!" You hissed between your teeth.
The next stone passed so close of your face. And your eyes widened, as did Mark's.
"Oops," he whispered from underneath.
You would explode.
"I'm grounded, Mark Lee." Saying, you had to hold your breath so you did not scream at once. "And it's your fault, it's your fault that I'm in trouble, and now I have to stay in this damn room..."
The smile fluttered from ear to ear on his face: of course, why would Mark Lee care to be the reason for your misfortune? We're talking about the troublemaker in the neighborhood, are not we?
"You do not mind, right?" Whispering it, was much more to yourself than to him.
"A little," he replied.
"Get the fuck out of my yard," you growled.
He shrugged, again. Of course he would not.
"How about I make it up to you to get yourself into trouble, miss right?" With a smile, he stopped you from closing the window again, fingers already ached against the wood, as you assured yourself what the kind of smile that was painting Mark Lee's cheek—a type that said very well that something no good was coming—you thought, come on, anything is better than being here.
Why not?
After twenty minutes walking, Mark stopped in front of that house, almost on the other side of town, and you also stopped, looking around; the street was deserted, the lighting was precarious.
"What are we doing here?" You asked, feeling the shiver creep up the spine, eyes already wide-eyed for Mark Lee, who grinned.
"Miss right, this is Johnny's house," he said, looking at you.
"And why are we here?"
He continued grinning with the corner of his mouth.
"A few days ago I lost a bet..."
And you already knew where that was going.
"What kind of bet?" interrupted.
"You know..." sighed through teeth, averting his eyes, preventing you from realizing how embarrassed he was. "The kind of betting boys usually do-"
"Okay!" You exclaimed. "I do not need to know the details."
"Ow! The point is that he cheated," he added, turning his eyes to you, the street was so deserted and there were only you two in the middle of the street, in front of Johnny Seo's house. It was almost like two jumbled thieves planning a robbery.
Almost... depending on the point of view only.
"Disgusting!" You exclaimed, looking twice at Mark Lee.
"I really need you to help me, Y/n." And looking a third time at your neighbor, heart melted against your will, who could resist Mark Lee frowning, eyes glittering and a pout?
You.
"You want me to..."
"Get in there and get the two hundred dollars from Johnny's damn junk wallet." He finished the sentence, hands clasped in both of your arms, staring into eyes: definitely two thieves planning a robbery.
"What if he catch me?" You asked, whispering, as if you suddenly noticed the real situation.
"He's not home," he whispered back.
"How about compensating me? Where is?"
"Come on, Y/n, I saved your skin yesterday..."
"And got me in trouble twice."
You two were fighting a war of wheezing, which was useless because the silence was tremendous that anyone could still hear what you both argued about.
"I'll make it up later, how about it?" He pressed his lips together, eyebrows raised, almost as if he could kneel. "But only if you get inside..." He points, dramatically. "... and get my two hundred dollars. So, yeah, I'll make it up to you."
Eyes tighten. You look at the house. It looks like the lair of a people-eating monster, after all, is not much different from that, since the rumors surrounding the neighborhood about Johnny are not good at all; in fact, are far worse than the rumors about Mark Lee.
Then you realize: what the hell am I doing in the middle of the night with Mark Lee? Planning a robbery!
"It's not stealing if you get it back," he assumes, as if he could read your mind.
You stare at him now. Seeing the eyes sparkling, in expectation, and that's enough to make you give in.
"Okay, sir smarty pants." Snorting, you hit your foot on the floor, your nose twists slightly. "How am I going to get in?"
No, no, no...
"How am I supposed to fit in there?" You practically exclaim. It's definitely the craziest night of your life.
"Believe what I say," he smiles, amused by the melodramatic drama in your voice. "Johnny has a really fat dog. Even you can pass in." And you could stick a stake into Mark Lee's an** hole...
"I'm not fat" muttering, you analyze the doorway to the door. You two are in the backyard of the house, where there is not much besides a lot of mess, junk and junk; Johnny is not much of a cleaning fan, that you can be sure of.
"Of course you're not fat..." says an embarrassed Mark, mending "that's not what I meant..."
His voice cuts as you kneel on the floor, and no, you've never imagined in your life that one day you'd be invading someone's home through a obese dog's door. Part of your body passes without much difficulty, but your hips need a certain special push, and you put strenght...
"Beautiful panties!" You hear from the other side of the door...
Yes, you heard right.
And the grunting in pain that you hear shortly afterwards, when you hit Mark's leg with your feet, is as satisfying as shoving a broom handle in you know where... The impact is enough to get your whole body inside.
"Great!" Mark yells from the other side.
Throat itches with the dust raised. It's the kitchen, you find out, looking around, it's all dark but you can see right where it is.
"What now?" You yelled back.
"Keep going until you reach the hall. And then you'll see the door at the end... that's it!"
You cough, waving your hand right in front of your face, it's not dust, it's something with a different smell...
"Ah! And do not breathe the air too much, otherwise you'll go crazy. "
Shit.
That was definitely the craziest night of your life. You walk into Johnny's house, stumbling over something or other on the floor, cursing at yourself, doing your best to not breathe in that suspicious air.
The night was crazy enough to make things even madder. But that's what happens. When you finally find Johnny's wallet and Mark Lee's two hundred dollars.
"Who are you?" The hoarse voice sounded right behind you from the single bed. That's how you met Seo Johnny, with a scream echoing through the neighborhood, that scream that made Mark's eyes widen outside.
"Y/n!" He shouted, knocking on the door. "Are you alright?"
Another scream reaches his ears. The heart freezes.
"What is going on?"
And all he gets in response is another sharp cry and the sounds of things being thrown to the ground. Which had made Mark Lee practically jump off the floor, looking for the piece of anything closer; a piece of wood, with which he slammed against the door's latch.
"He's here!" You shouted. "Fuck! Fuc-"
"Hold on!"
Definitely, totally, for sure, it was the craziest night of your life, because you were running around the house throwing everything in front of Johnny Seo, the owner of the house. And every step was in a different tone of scream.
And in this situation, climbing on the couch, tossing CDs in Johnny's face, throwing dishes at his feet...
"AH!" You scream. "Stay away from me!"
"But who the hell are you?!" And Johnny screams back, before having another CD hit his face.
In the situation, you had already breathed so much of the drunk air that you were dizzy: Jesus, you're getting really crazy, and then you roll on the ground, the world is spinning, or maybe it's just the adrenaline.
"I got you!" Johnny catches up to you, and holds you back with your arms on the floor.
"Mark!" You struggle, shouting, trying to get free.
"I'm coming in!" His cry is followed by a loud bang, he breaks the door. But the situation requires quick action, which is nothing more than you sticking your knee against the middle of Johnny's legs.
And there goes the Johnny Seo's balls, made of omelette.
Mark arrives at the entrance of the room with seconds of delay, the piece of wood in hand. What he finds is you lying on the floor, Johnny rolling on the side letting go of all the possible curses.
"I did it." And you raise your hand, notes tucked between your fingers.
After blocks away, and lots of running, sticking your back against the wall of an extremely narrow alley, you're face to face with Mark Lee, your neighbor, your crime partner.
"You were incredible," he says, after a long breath, expression dazed.
With this, the smile appears on your face. Looking at him.
"I broke his eggs." And he smiles back. Babbling in his lost breath.
You still do not believe what just happened, but Mark's two hundred dollars is the best proof, just like the breathless lungs for running so much.
The smile on Mark Lee's lips becomes a weak laugh.
And you? You laugh back. You both laugh, belly hurts and your lungs burn.
"You kicked his ass," he says, still laughing.
"Yeah" and no, you still do not believe you kicked someone's ass.
"You know that movie?" Mark nods, he's still laughing, but you shake his head. "That one, Kickass."
"I do not know this movie." Again it's just you two whispering in the middle of the night, not totally alone, because must have a street cat stuck in the trash; noise is the best clue to that.
"You know the one where the guy..." Mark was starting, waving his hands, as you burst out laughing.
"I know which movie it is, Mark."
He looks at you with a small smile, his eyes fixed on your expression: completely spontaneous, laughing without any mask and fear. He totally love this side of you.
"Shall I call you that now?" He smiles, and it's just you two, dividing the little space of a narrow alley, facing each other. "Kickass?"
You laugh more.
"Do not be stupid."
"You're amazing," he confesses.
"We're talking about my favorite movie," and you confess as well. He raises his eyebrows, looks surprised.
"Such a weirdo" loose between his lips, with a whisper. And you open your eyes, hitting a slap against his chest. "Miss right is a nerd? Is that right?" He laughs more, when you hit another slap, now, on his shoulder.
But in a moment, laughter ceases, a moment when you two perceive the heat of each other, because you two are so close to each other. Perhaps there are no more than a few inches separating you from him.
And you breathe deeply.
Mark Lee's eyes are on your face, sliding just a little, to your lips. Mark makes butterflies emerge in your throat, like a magical pass, yet so dangerous; and if those butterflies go down to the heart?
"Mark?" You call softly, so low that only he listens, because he so close to you, it's so close that you can feel his breath.
"Yes?" He bites his own lips, eyes lifting from lips to eyes.
And if you just move forward a little, and stand on your toes to...
You open your lips, slowly, speaking, "I want ice cream."
An hour and forty minutes was what ticked on the watch when your bed sank with the weight, there was still the taste of strawberry ice cream in mouth, and a discreet smile on lips, just like the pink on your cheeks.
"Kick-ass." You repeated to yourself, with a grin yet. "You're such an idiot, Mark Lee." Because you knew so well that Mark Lee was such a bad company, you knew so well that you had been corrupted without any warning: and you liked it.
This was your first night, completely crazy, and almost meaningless night. But it was not the last, in fact, was the trigger for several other escapades in the middle of the dark. It got to the point that you really noticed that you no longer cared enough about the college.
"I'm going out to Hyemi's house!" You exclaim from the living room, to your father, while your mother looks straight into your eyes. It had been a few weeks since that happened but somehow only the two of you knew about it.
It was your secret with your lovely mother, who stared deep into your soul, saying very quietly, "It's to come back before 11 o'clock, do you understand? No parties this time." Nodding, you shake both hands, sticking out the door.
It's 20 o'clock in the evening, and you're taking a turn around the corner of the street, a small smile forms when you think; It's been weeks since you've stepped in your friend's house, it was just a good excuse to escape at night without having to jump out of your bedroom window.
It had been so long ago, night after night, that you and Mark Lee had their own contacts saved, and a professional network of planning—it was only a few messages—and the meeting place at night was a little different from normal .
But not that everything was normal with Mark Lee. So you were not much surprised when you met him in front of your old high school.
"What is it this time?" You laugh at yourself, do not looking at Mark, after all you know he has one of his mischievous smiles.
"It's Saturday, there is no-"
And before he even starts, you're already caught everything in the air.
"This is crazy. And we already know where this will end..." You force yourself to look at him.
"We've already invaded someone's house." He starts anyway. "And Johnny's on our neck for three weeks, Y/n."
You sigh heavily: this is what happens when you walk with Mark Lee!
"And how is Jaemin's nose?" You ask, skewing the subject, some people walk down the sidewalk, it's better to disguise and pretend you're not planning to break into neighborhood high school.
"Going well, inside the possible" he smiles and inside you are judging him so much, something he feels just from looking into your eyes.
"Do you really think I can trust you?" You ask.
"Ahm..." he thinks for a few seconds. "Why not?"
"You punched your friend's face, Mark."
"He was panicking!" And he defends himself.
"Of course! You and I panicked too when we saw Johnny walking into the diner! "You kick back, putting hands on your hips.
"At least we know how to panic in silence! Jaemin was screaming!"
"Jisung too! And you did not punch him in the face..."
"But the punch in Jaemin's face served as a warning."
You stare at him, silently for minutes, folding your arms: was this a discussion? You wonder, for you it was, but Mark Lee could not say the same.
"I swear, I love my friends..." and he grunts, still seeing how much you are judging him through eye glances.
"Then why do not you ever get them to go out at night?"
He thinks for a few seconds, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck, and he looks down at the floor.
"Because... they are too noisy?" He replies, not quite sure what he's talking about.
The truth you do not know is that Mark Lee's heart has shot up against his chest, and it's been this way for a long time...
"Beautiful way to show affection..." Inevitably you end up smiling, because you see Mark Lee's cheeks blushing: which, in a way, is a rare thing to happen-according to Jisung.
"I'm no good at showing what I feel, Y/n", speaking, Mark advances his steps towards the school, the street is sinking again in lull, but suddenly, chaos is inside you: it's your impression or... did Mark Lee's words sound ambiguous?
It does not matter because he takes your seconds off the air to put the plan into practice, which makes you thank your version of the past hours ago that you chose to leave wearing shorts and not a skirt or dress, after all; Mark had seen pretty much all your panties from so many fences that you jumped in the middle of the night.
Jumping the school fence, is only a matter of minutes until you enter the gym, in the area where the blue of the pool paints the ceiling in unstable shades of blue. You look at the water while Mark divert attention for seconds.
"Let's go in like this?" Asking, you hesitate. Thinking so much at the same time...
"The bathrooms must be around here somewhere..." he murmurs, his footsteps echoing through the icy pottery floor, and you find it funny how he's looking for the bathrooms.
He is ashamed, on the inside, deeply ashamed. And he could swear that the toilets were in that direction, there should be some clean pieces from the swimming club... Just then, he freezes in place, hearing the clothes falling on the floor.
He turns, just in time to see the pool water stir.
Your shorts are thrown on the floor, just like your shirt, and you're in the water, there's a big, coarse red stripe across your face.
"Do not tell me Mark Lee is embarrassed to take off his clothes?" You laugh, the voice echoing in the practically deserted gym, part of your chin is in the icy water, while the rest of your face is burning.
Mark can perfectly see your semi-naked body reflected through the water, and he licks his lips.
"Are you challenging me, miss right?"
Your heart takes a false step. Mark pulls the shirt on, pulling it out quickly, revealing his toned torso, the muscles of his arms flex as he grabs the button of his pants, the zipper descends...
And, God, you're seeing Mark Lee in his underwear.
The water stirs as he walks in, and you withdraw for minutes, laughing for no reason, because the water is so cold and everything seems so far away, as if it were not really happening.
"Why are you like this?" The question sounds without you noticing, your feet reach the bottom of the pool without any difficulty, the water is on your neck.
"Just like what?" He asks, hands wrapping wet strands, and Mark is only inches taller than you, the water are covering his shoulders.
"You do not look so bad, Mark Lee" again, you let the words escape.
There is water running down his face, sliding down his neck, over the exposed chest. It would be such a fatal mistake if you lowered your eyes too much.
"Am I the bad guy?" He smiles faintly, his eyes do not detach from yours.
The air weighs between the two of you.
It is as if you can feel the distance being pressed between, because he comes closer to the few, and you take a step back, trying to keep that distance.
"Yeah... one of the extremely evil guys." And this coming out of your mouth causes a great chuckle to come out of Mark Lee's lips, which is again so close, because this is not the first time, nor the second...
"So you're going to kick my ass?"
You laugh.
The water is so cold...
"Maybe" biting your lips, you do not take eyes off his.
The water is so cold that makes you yearn for the heat of Mark Lee. And that's exactly what happens next, when the laughter stops echoing over the pool, when the water shakes...
Mark holds your nape, there are so many inches separating you from him that it becomes useless to fight against this, against what happens, your lips being swallowed by his. The kiss you share with Mark Lee, is breathless, is without hesitation, and your body is pressed against his.
And you realize; in a complete trance of your senses, of the touch of your skin with his, of the connected lips, of the tongues that find their way, you realize how much you are in love with Mark Lee.
Soon, body meets the edge of the pool, soon, there are heavy breaths echoing, your arms wrap around Mark's neck, and his tongue deepen into what is already so deep, which is already so intense.
You know where this is going, you know at the minute that you feel Mark's hard on against your belly. But you do not push him away, you does not stop him when his hands grab your thighs, lifting you up in the water, without undoing the kiss.
And legs wrap around Mark's hip with a tight hug.
"Are you sure?" He grunts against lips.
You can feel how hard he is between your legs.
"Yes," you whisper.
A few minutes before your moans are echoing above the pool water. And you never imagined many things, between them, surely you did not imagine that one day Mark Lee would fuck you in the pool of the old high school.
Much less you did imagine that this would not stop there. Your crimes with Mark stretch night after night, you leave with the excuse that you are going to friend's house, and instead you meet up with Mark Lee, the neighbor who lives in the house just ahead, and well, he makes you moan so loud, he fucks you so well...
Three large packages of potatoes, one of the original flavor—for Jeno—, another onion—flavored with parsley—for Jaemin—, and the ultimate BBQ flavor—for you and Jisung. The chocolate bars were already on your right arm, beneath the potato packs, all balanced with perfect precision.
Because Sunday afternoons you have to feed the kids—because they are kids inside, not outside, as Mark would say—as you try to distract yourself from the damn college entrance exam.
Having eighteen, almost nineteen, years is not at all easy and, you sigh heavily when your fingers are almost reaching for the packet of chilli-flavored, the Mark's favorite...
"Hey, hey" there are two girls on your side, they stop right there in the middle of the supermarket corridor covering their mouths, but you can hear what they whisper. "What about last night? Did you get his number? "
You stop, as if a pang of curiosity suddenly emerges from nowhere.
"From who? Mark Lee?" The other giggles. "Of course I did..."
"Will you call him? Today? To your house?"
You swallow dry, your throat burns...
What are you thinking? Echoes in your head.
"And why not? Why would he turn me down? My parents will not-"
The chilli-flavored potato pack complains as you grip it tightly, tucking it under your arm. Enough to listen that, because deep down your chest is burning... It's jealousy, jealousy mixed with frustration, and a sudden anger.
For what?
What did you expect from Mark Lee?
The same little boy who crossed the street just to give you a box with a lizard inside?
Yes…
It's what you expected from Mark.
But it's not like you have something with Mark Lee, anything but a "crime partner."
You come up against something, suddenly you put your face in someone's torso and your nose hurts at the exact moment, it's the same as sticking your face into a wall, and you let a couple of swearing come out of your mouth when your tongue hangs in place...
"Fuck you-" Your eyes lift, but your mouth hangs open.
All packages of potatoes and chocolates fall to the floor.
"Oh, look who I found here," Johnny finally intoned, as surprised as you. "The jerk that walks with Mark Lee." You never imagined that one day you would literally run out of a supermarket; and no, it was not because you did not have enough money.
But that's what happened, and with Seo Johnny running after you. Look how far Mark Lee made you come... you'd say, after all, that's what happens when you're in bad company.
Either way, you got home alive, even if you were sure you'd left some of your dignity behind on the escape that yielded a tour throughout the city. You came back shaking hands, and without even stamping your feet in the diner where you used to meet with the boys.
Your will was to do everything in the world, to go out and mow the lawn, to walk with Toby, the old dog of the family, to even visit your boring aunt on the other side of the world, less than to see Mark Lee...
You hated him.
And when you stepped the first few meters into the house, you were forced to stop in the hallway, toward the living room where your mother was sitting on the sofa, no sign of your father, the television was on but your mother did not seem to be watching anyway.
"You're all right, mom?" You ask, slightly curious with the lost expression she has.
She looks at you, finally realizing that you are there.
"We need to talk."
Oh, yes, you hate Mark Lee so much...
"You're not going to get away with it until you clear up all these rumors I've been hearing, young lady!" She screams, with all the breath in her lungs, and you're already so tired of this argument, then head for the stairs, getting off from where your mother rose from the chair, following you.
"I can not believe you're going out with this kid, Y/n!" She holding on to the railing, watching you jump step by step in a hurry. "I want you to come down and have a civil conversation with me!"
"What do you want to hear?! That Mark Lee is fucking me?"
"Look at this mouth-"
"But it's the truth! And honestly... "At the top of the stairs, you fill your mouth with words, watching your mother's eyes almost roll out of their sockets. "I love how his cock fucks me just so damn good."
And, you're in love with Mark Lee, but that does not come out of your mouth, because you do not get the time to see everything explode.
"I'm going to have a very serious conversation with your father, young lady!" Your mother continues to scream. "Let's talk about the offer your aunt made us."
The saliva drops like ice splinters down your throat, the door of the room closes tightly behind your back. Your biggest fear, sums up to being sent to live with your boring aunt... On the other side of the world.
Mark is not paying attention to what is happening on the screen. And once again the game over! jumps into their eyes, followed by an audible grunt from his best friend, Haechan, sitting next to him on the couch.
"Come on, man, I know you're better than this!"
Lee checks the phone for the tenth time in the last hour, without unlocking the screen: there are many messages, but none of whom he expects.
"One more time," he says then, regaining control of the xbox, but without any desire to continue playing.
The building has been abandoned for decades, and had become the boys' den only two years ago, so it was normal to find cans thrown in the corners, boards mending certain rhombs on the walls, posters covering other walls.
The video game was Jisung who succeeded; and no, the boys did not care how the youngest of them had gotten.
"What's the problem with you?" Haechan exclaimed suddenly, because it did not take even ten minutes for the team to be beaten again for a stupid foul of his colleague, and there again Mark Lee running to check his cell phone. "Get the fuck off, Mark."
The older boy grunts something, completely stunned as he drops the cell phone again. Could he be more frustrated in two days? Never.
"What do I do, man?" The surrender comes as Mark throws himself against the sofa that is falling apart: Mark Lee would never bring you here.
"What to do about what?" Haechan widens his eyes, realizing how defeated his best friend is, after all, Mark never asks for advice; which can be twice as bad because the friend and leader of the boys' group has a strong tendency to do shit, just as he also never listens to the warnings he receives.
"Like..." Looking for the right words, he slides over the antique leather sofa; found it months ago, forgotten in a corner of the city, and after all, if it was out there then it was not robbery. "Let's just say, I'm liking a girl..."
And further back, Jeno and Jaemin are dividing the same cell phone while discussing what is more intriguing: stairs vs. dogs or cats vs. cucumbers. A very deep discussion, in fact.
"Oh, no." And Haechan whimpers, shaking his head, looking up as if to ask for salvation to the heavens.
"And it's been so long since I'd given up but..." As he continues, letting his body dramatically slide down the couch.
"Here we go again..." Haechan grunts.
"But when I thought I'd forgotten her-"
"Is it Y/n?" He interrupts, already completely tired as he flicks his eyes at Mark Lee, who is already almost on the floor.
How can his leader be so pathetic? Haechan thinks to himself.
"How do you know?" He frowns.
Definitely so slow.
"You just have to write on your forehead with highlighter, Mark!" He laughs loud, nervous, ironic, ah, my good God, Haechan has been tired of this talk since he was seven years old. "You've been a complete muggle for her since... Always! "
"Fuck you!" Mark practically jumps off the couch, tossing anything over his best friend; an empty canister hits Haechan's forehead.
"Why are not you sincere at once, Mark?!" he exclaims. "It makes you look like a loser, much more than you already are!"
Haechan shrinks again, waiting for the next can. But it does not come.
"Frankly?" Instead, Mark's eyes are wide-eyed, his expression bright and open as if he had just had the most fantastic idea of his life.
"Yeah... Demonstrate how you feel about her, you stupid ass."
Mark Lee smiles, as the complete idiot he is in the deepest.
"You're a genius, Donghyuck!" He exclaims, rushing to the door of the abandoned building; which does not exist, because it never had a door.
"For heaven's sake!" He chokes, already remembering very well what had happened the first time he had seen that strange glow passing through his friend's face. "Just do not hand over a lizard to her, Mark Lee!"
"Darling?" The door of your room opens, and you roll over in bed, taking the remote control from the small television, the picture freezes, and you turn to see your father's face. "Do you want me to bring you some popcorn?"
Your father knows nothing of what is happening. It ends up being only between you and your mother the reason that why you are locked in your room for two days in a row.
"Yes, yes," you shake your head.
Your father looks at you for a few seconds, still holding the door latch.
"You'll get out of this soon," he says, and you open a straight smile; deep down feeling a twinge of guilt. "I do not know what you did this time, but she'll forget about this soon."
No, she will not.
"Okay," but you nod in the same way. "Thank you, Dad." After all, your father is just so sweet, but knowing that all this sweetness would go downstairs as soon as he knew the real reason behind the punishment, you'd rather not dwell on it.
"Wait a few minutes, I'll be right back with your popcorn." And the door closes. The truth is, your crime partner would be doomed the moment your father suspect you two are sharing the same air.
And what if he discovered that Mark Lee was slipping his little friend into the midst of his innocent, dear, loved, daughter's legs? You swallow hard just to imagine the possibility.
The picture rolls back on the television screen and you sink down against the pillows. Books are lying on the floor: you had dawns in the clear to study everything you could, just because your mother took your cell phone and together any possibility of you putting your feet out of your room.
And your father is already taking too long to bring the popcorn. You sigh once more, sinking deeper into your thoughts when...
Pluck! you recognize the knock on the window, which is closed.
You ignore, fixing your eyes on the television and...
Pluck!
The bed creaks with the sudden jump you give, firing toward the window that opens quickly. You practically throw your face out, breathing hard into the night air that has barely begun.
Seeing Mark Lee with a half smile down the lawn of the backyard could make your chest beat in any odd rhythm: minus in surprise.
"Hey, I-" His voice echoes in a whisper.
"Get out, Mark!" You hiss, and close the window at once.
You're determined to ignore Mark Lee... Then you throws herself back in bed, expression completely twisted, as twisted as heart is.
But it does not take long for...
Pluck! again ring in your window.
This time you ignore completely, and four beats later, finally comes the silence. And when you're sure that now he's given up, a little pang of regret hits your heart, thinking that, after all, he can have any girl he wants... Your eyes glide to the window, in an instinct of last-minute regret and, there's Mark Lee, climbing up to the first floor of your house, clinging to the window sill.
"Are you crazy?!" You let your voice rise from a whisper as you let him in.
There's a mischievous smile on his face that makes your heart heat.
"After all we've done..." He looks around, scanning your room. "Do you think coming up here is what makes me crazy?" Turning his eyes to you, you ends up going through everything in your head, especially...
You hate being so in love with your partner in crime.
The door was the only thing separating you from your terrible death, literally, but it was already at about 11pm, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief between lips, leaning against the the bed, and about your side, was Mark Lee, the intruder in this room. It was already the second film of the night, but it was impossible for you to concentrate, not when all those thoughts were taking your head.
For a few seconds, you looked at Mark, who seemed focused on the movie. Your left leg was comfortably bent over his lap, where a miserable pillow was the only thing that separated you from him.
"My parents want to send me to my aunt's house," you sighed.
It was enough to make him blink quickly, turning to you.
"On these vacations?" He asked, clearly confused.
"More than that ..."
His fingers played with the loose strands of your sweater, the light from the screen was the only illumination in the room.
"Wait ..." he stammered. "Did they find out?"
"Almost," you mutter.
He bites his lips, eyes back to the movie, which continues rolling, scene after scene. He picks up the remote control and raises the volume, and you lower your eyes when Mark Lee looks at you again.
"You can not go," saying without hesitation, his head hanging inches back. A small pang of heat rises up your body, and you look at him, staring at him in silence. "See, you're the Kick-ass of my Hit Girl."
Biting your lips is not enough to stop the laughter that escapes your lips.
"That's a little wrong, is not it?"
Mark narrows eyes, lips slightly open in a smile.
"A little... Maybe ..." He responds after much thought. "But what I mean is..." And he gets lost, when you press lips, looking so focused on what he says, even though he's just talking bizarre things, bizarre things that only you understand; he presses the pillow into his lap. "There's no Lois Lane without a Superman..."
You smile.
"Not even a Mary Jane without a Spider-man." And he freezes, realizing what he said, noticing the gleam in your eyes. "That was very strange, right?"
"Weirdo..." You whisper.
And it was a great decision to turn up the volume on television, because within seconds you're laughing, looking at each other's expression, and Mark Lee only makes the situation worse when you let go of one of your terrible jokes that only he can understand.
"I do not want to leave..." saying that, the silence comes soon after, with eyes connected to Mark's, who looks at you deeply, your legs somehow sliding until he was completely on his lap.
Mark Lee's fingers glide over the skin of his legs, on your thigh, and a shiver runs through your body. You think about how many girls have felt that same touch, how many girls Mark has kissed, how many he already...
"You do not have to leave."
How many girls have he seduced the same way he does now, with his hand pulling at her waist, lips so sweet, so gentle; kissing, in that way you can not escape. But the only thing that goes through your head, when Mark deepens the kiss, between a heavy breath of air, is how much you want to feel it one last time.
The pillow that was on Mark's lap disappears, and you discover the real reason that had brought the pillow here, Mark Lee is as hard as ever under his jeans, you feel when he pulls you to sit on his lap, holding tight on your thighs.
"Door is locked?" He bites your lip, his hand going from your thigh to hips, squeezing, as he feels you wiggling over his layered hard on. "Right?"
You think for a few seconds, returning a kiss to his lips, feeling his hand hold you firmly against his lap. "Yeah, I locked it."
"So, how about we take off these clothes... and have some fun?"
And you could have said no, or anything else. But it was impossible to resist. So it's silliness to be blaming everything and everyone at this point while you bite your lips, fingers pulling the strands of Mark Lee's hair. You struggle to hold your moans while his lips are taking care of your pussy so gently, with so much lust.
Shit, shit, shit... Your mouth opens for inches, when his tongue slides, his nails are stuck in the flesh of your thighs, holding you in place while your back arches in pleasure. Mark is taking care of you so well, making you feel every inch of his tongue, his soft lips, so good that you need to cover your mouth with your hands, letting a tearful grunt escape.
Seeing how much Mark Lee is loving eating you only by the glow that passes in his eyes, he is loving all the sight that has of your body, and his cock is twisting so hard, so hard for your pussy.
"Do you want to be listened, princess?" He whispers, causing so many sensations at once, hot breath, harsh, horny voice, and the rush to want him to fuck you.
You shake your head, in negative, with the fear of loosening your hands from your lips, letting a moan escape.
This fear increases as Mark opens a side smile, you gasp, closing your eyes tightly when you feel the tip of his finger massage the entrance of your pussy, you complain softly when his lips move away, but bites the lips as soon as he feels the finger enter, slowly.
Mark Lee watches you closely as he slides his fingers into your wet pussy, and the wet sounds slide so easily through the stale air of the room. Your back arches as he move his finger inside, without waiting another second to slide a second finger in, watching your response contained in muffled moans between lips.
"So wet, princess, you get so wet while your parents are down there..." he grunts, so horny to see you already, and completely destroyed, without him even having started. "And you make me so hard," he growls, lips coming back to give you all the attention deserved.
Your head is getting cloudy, a small crying moan escapes, and your hips move on their own, yearning for more of the touch of Mark Lee's hands and lips.
You're almost there... When he stops, fingers slide out, and you lose contact with his lips.
"Mark," you groan, frustrated.
"Not now..." he growls, lifting his torso, letting a shiver go through your body as his eyes slide down, he is so hard. "I want you to cum on my dick. Ok?"
He bends over your body, the dick rubs over your pussy, and he's perfectly wedged between your legs, his hands grip your thighs, and his lips connect to yours, kissing deeply, letting you feel your own taste impregnated in his tongue, between saliva and the strong shiver that runs through your flesh.
He makes a mess with you when he moves his hips, and from your thigh his hand moves to the dick, slowly, stroking against your wetness. You moan, hips rise, thighs embracing Mark's hips, but he denies you what you both want, letting a smile escape he brushes his lips away, but the eyes remain fixed on you.
There are small tears forming in your eyes, as well as drops of sweat sticking a few strands of hair.
Mark Lee loves to see you completely destroyed by him, completely crazy about his dick.
"Tell me what you want," he whispers, continuing to masturbate against you, as he growls at the feeling of how wet you are.
"Mark, you idiot," and you just want him so much, that your head is beginning to sink in the midst of the lust, completely missing the sense of danger.
He presses against your wet entrance, a shock of pleasure crosses his body.
"Do not you want it?" Growling, he runs his lips down your chin, down your neck, hot breath melting on skin. "Do not you want me to fuck you?" And he's almost invading you, competely, you're digging nails into his shoulders, eyes closing so tight.
"Damn, yeah, I want you to fuck me so hard-" You gasp, teeth clack against each other, Mark punches the dick inside your pussy at once, he muffles your moan with a deep kiss. The bed creak when his hips comes back to move, and thanks heavens the television volume is too high, because Mark Lee does exactly what you ask for.
He fucks you hard, his dick slides inside your pussy, in and out, just so deep and then sliding out. His hips are strong but the pace is slow, slow enough to let him feel inch by inch from your pussy, slow enough to let you feel how much he wants you to moan, scream his name.
And you'd be moaning, begging for it to go faster, but you can not, and shit, that's killing you.
"I want to hear you moan," he asks, looking deep into your eyes as the wet sounds fill your ears, the bed creaking, and the deep of his thrusts making you see stars. "I want to hear how much you like my dick, princess."
"I love..." you bite your lips, a whimper escapes, there is so much sweat on your bodies, so hot.
"Ah, princess..." He groan. "Can you feel how much I love fucking your pussy?" The groan escapes, and shit, shit, shit, Mark Lee really loves to listen to your moans, he loves to hear you asking for more.
He loves the way your body writhes with pleasure, loves how your pussy contracts when you're getting close, and he really loves to know that all this is only for him...
"My princess..." he calls, a tearful moan escapes his lips, he closes his eyes, thrusting his face against the valley between your breasts. "Y/n..."
Your fingernails sink into his skin, his groans are impossible to contain, and the rhythm of Mark's hips increase, now summing up to a mess built by the creaking of the bed, skin pounding against skin and wet sounds.
So fast, he pounds his cock deep inside you. Mark kisses you, arms holding you tightly against his body, your legs hugging his hip tightly. You cum in a matter of seconds, biting his shoulder, stifling only part of your moans.
It only takes a few more seconds, with Mark Lee's erratic thrusts hitting your sensibility, he cums inside you with a long, painful growl, filling you completely.
"I guess I'll have to find a way to go to the pharmacy tomorrow..." You whisper as his body rolls to the side, the two summed up in a tangle of uncontrollable heartbeat and total shortness of breath.
Mark smiled, pulling the air into his lungs. It was incredible, and it takes a while for you to finally be able to look at him, his eyes heavy with weariness. And you find him staring at you, still panting, eyes still in bliss...
"You know..." you start, feeling a lump in the throat, the sweat still runs down your body, but you want to get out of bed. "You can easily find another crime mate when I leave, right?"
You sit down, turning your back for him.
Mark raises his eyebrows, leaning on the bed with his elbows.
"Ye-No... No..." he stutters, not sure where you want to go. "Theoretically yes but..." Shit, what the hell are you talking about, Mark Lee? He thinks quickly as he hears a painful sigh coming out of you.
The boy is completely lost.
It turns out that this particular part was not included in any part of his handbook on how to deal with girls. In fact, Mark Lee never actually had one of those manuals.
What he decided to do, was purely instinctive, pure instinct when he pulled you by grabbing your waist, throwing you back to bed, now, getting back on top of you.
But instead of the lust in his eyes, there was only a certain missing tone, a glow that made your heart twist in the depth: it was the same glint in his eyes that you saw in the boy who made you eat peanut butter.
"Remember the time I gave you that gift?" Mark asked, looking into your eyes.
"The time you made a lizard jump in my face?" You smile, awkwardly, but still, unable to look away. "Of course I remember..."
"And the time I made you go have a talk with the director because I was throwing paper in your head?"
"Yeah, I remember," you growl.
"And... That time I dropped your books in the hall..."
"Mark Lee, do you want me to punch you right now?"
Contrary to what you expect, Mark does not smile, instead the silence prevails: because for a long time, you two, do not listen to the noises of the movie, or anything else that is happening on television.
"I'm not good at expressing myself, and I'm not at all the best company for girls like you..."
But you should be aware of the noises coming from outside your room.
"So there's something I've always wanted to say, but I've never been able to..." Mark is lost in a mess made in the heart, in the head, in the thoughts, and especially in the stomach; and it's all your fault, only yours, since so long.
And you, you just catch the air, your eyes too intent on the glow in Mark Lee's eyes, your heart clenches. You love him, just like that, you hate loving him so much...
"Be my girl, Y/n." he says, simply, gentle, in a kind whisper.
Glitter in the eyes. Heart bumping, cheeks getting red and hot. And there is a certain quiet time, between understanding what comes out of Mark's lips, between feeling his lips against yours; such a sweet kiss, so sweet. Because Mark Lee loves you so deeply.
"Yes, Mark," you says, between the heatness of the missed steps on your heart.
"Really?" he giggles, with a sweet peck.
"Yeah," you smile, "I've always been your Kick-ass."
And there could be a second round as Mark deepened the kiss. And the whole night would be so perfect if...
You really had locked the door...
"Daughter, I fell asleep while waiting for the pop-" The voice entering the room makes both of you catch the air. The door is open, your father is right there, holding a huge bowl of popcorn, and his mouth is wide open.
"Oh, shit!" That's what you and Mark Lee exclaim at the same time. Because there could be no better expression to define the rest of the night, which basically unfolded: Mark Lee being almost killed by your father.
i know the requests are closed but since i know myself & i will not notice when you will open them again, may i ask you something even if it takes you a long time before writing it ?
of course you can, if you're okay with all the delay, just send me your request~ I can open a special spot for you ♡♡♡
until now it's almost like that...01. The Path on the Sea (80%, getting really huge)02. Tenacious (10%)03. What are you doing? / Where the dreams come true04. The one with Taeyong that don’t have a title yet (sorry…)05. Chrysanthemum
it’s basically this for now, this week and the next I’m not writing anything because of my college tests, and so I can change the order according to my inspiration to write the ploteach one ranges from 1.5k to 14k, meaning some will take much longer than the others, since certain plots I end up giving more development
I'm really late this month with my writing, sorry TT
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my ask for requests will be closed for a short time, only while i take some time to study and finish writing... and about that, i usually write a lot for each plot, so i apologize for the delay~
maybe next week i will be posting a smut with Mark or a Ghibli!au with Jeno; you decide