#seulgi for converse

[yourdailymag]

Seulgi (Red Velvet) in Converse for Allure September 2020

[gongyoon]

Have you already forgotten about me or are you too busy for your big brother now? I might get offended if any of those two options happen to be true. This is just to say that I miss you and I do hope to see you soon! How are you? What have you been up to these days? Catch me up on everything I have missed, please. @kvngsevlgi

[hannieween]

pick your poison | wicked games series

“You know—when you're still hurting from one person and find someone else to patch you up?” Changkyun said. “One poison drives out another.”

☾ pairings: jeon wonwoo x female reader ☾ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ☾ aus: bartender wonwoo, bartender mingyu, rebound fucking, "enemies" to fucking, messy love triangle ☾ word count: 17.3k

› PREVIOUS CHAPTERS – READ MORE

🎧: enemy – jiselle, gemini | not sorry – i.m | kiss&tell – ethan low | excuses – twlv | fuxxin' love (2019) – OoOo | ghosts – highvyn | guilty – taemin | his car isn't yours – wendy | love is banned – gemini | divine – hyejin | 28 reasons – seulgi

☾ warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption but no dubcon, hurt/comfort[?], spiraling, unprotected p in v sex, body worshipping, pussy eating, fingering, creampies, hickeys. reader is chubby. pet names: ma'am, baby (hers)

☾ author's note: i'm sorry.

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

pick your poison

The basketball court was empty. The night was still, as though hurt by the echo of the conversation you kept replaying in your head.

Puddles of water glistened on the pavement, reflecting fragments of the moonlight as it shone on the dark sky.

You sat there alone, motionless. Waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Or maybe you did.

You looked down at your hands. They were wet. Wet in tears of a dream that was lost.

The sky shifted, and light poured into the basketball court. The sun rose too quickly, too bright. It brought with it the cruel reality to your broken heart. Like a thread pulled from your chest.

But then you woke up.

Your breath caught before you could open your eyes. You were lying on your bed, too exhausted to move. Your throat was dry, and every beat of your heart ached like it had a thorn right in the centre of it.

You were at home. But in your heart, you were still sitting on the bleachers. At the basketball court. 

Waiting for him.

Time passed in a blur after that night.

Days and nights went on, time slipping through your fingers like water. But despite that, you felt like your life had been perpetually put on pause. Your mind, body and soul were on standby, waiting for his call, even though you knew that he was set on his choice.

Being on standby also meant that you didn’t feel a thing.

You made a promise to yourself—the moment you left the court, you would never cry for Kim Mingyu again. And you would never cry for another man ever again.

What used to be your routine melted into a continuous, numbing train of activities. Work, home, eat, sleep. One after another. Suddenly, you found yourself moving without thinking. Acting without really being there.

You kept yourself busy, believing that work might save you from the aching hole in your chest threatening to pull you in.

There is an undeniable negativity around setbacks, around change. 

But in this situation, you didn’t know whether you had stumbled upon a setback or a change. Mingyu had never been your actual partner, in the sense that you never solidified a real relationship with him. The thing that was making you feel incomplete was that he walked away without ever knowing how you truly felt about him.

So there was one thing you could do. Bury it. 

You would bury your feelings and bury yourself if need be. It felt like rewriting bits and pieces of yourself that you were once willing to put into a relationship with him. Only to find out that you were idealizing a relationship that was never going to happen.

A part of you felt resentful. You felt used. Like he just came into your life, wrapped you in and then left you hanging. Alone.

But the other part felt grateful that he reappeared in your life and graced you with the ability to love again. Even though he left you with a heart full and brimming with love that you will never be able to give him.

The truth was, you didn’t feel any wiser. Forever stuck repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

Autumn had you yearning for snow. Anything that would make the puddles of water along the sidewalks freeze over.  

Everywhere you turned, you saw him. Even the faintest smell of coconut made your chest ache. Even the sound of rain reminded you of him.

You opened the door to a coffee shop, walking inside with an umbrella in one hand and grabbing the straps of your tote bag in the other.

You didn’t have to go to the other side of the city to get coffee. But lately, sitting in the small office you rented was suffocating. And being in your apartment made you think too much about the same thing.

And when you weren’t working, you avoided sitting in your own apartment. You couldn’t stand the silence of your space. Not then, and not now.

So you wandered. Searching for places you hadn’t ruined yet with memories.

The coffee shop was small, cozy, and humming with soft R&B music. The scent of fresh ground coffee and pastries hit you immediately. Warm, bitter, and sweet all at once. You stepped inside, suddenly feeling like you had crossed into a different reality. While outside was bleak and it looked like it threatened to rain again, inside was a wave of color. Splashes of pastels, warm colors, and warm yellow lights overhead.

For a moment, it almost felt like you could breathe again. Like the gaping hole inside you was replaced by a different thing.

But this feeling was fleeting.

There were only a handful of people inside the coffee shop. But one of them turned slightly toward you, the movement drawing your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo might’ve sensed you, because he turned over his shoulder, spotting you instantly. He stood near the menu, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose.

He moved awkwardly, bowing his head politely when he caught your gaze.  

His lips moved, but you couldn’t make out his words.

This was the closest you’d come to anything connected to Kim Mingyu since the night he broke up with you.

Wonwoo flicked his gaze over your face—a hint of confusion, of something almost unreadable.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, stepping closer to the counter.

“I said, do you want to order first?” he asked using a polite tone, but there was a usual dryness to it. “I am still deciding for myself.”

“I uh,” you fumbled, feeling the nerves prickling down your spine. “I-I’ll have an iced americano, please. And a cookie. Please.”

You sent a glance at Wonwoo, trying to come off as unbothered as you could. But there was no way you could mask the trembling of your fingers when you extended your hand to pay.

Wonwoo stood behind you, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his dark hoodie. “I’ll have a strawberry yogurt smoothie, please,” he said, pulling out his wallet and taking out a card with his nimble fingers.

You held your reaction. It was obfuscating to you that he would order such a fun and non-plain beverage like that.

But you both stood at the end of the bar, waiting for your beverages. None of you made eye contact again. But you could feel his furtive glances every ten seconds, when he thought you were too distracted looking at your phone.

But you were just staring at your phone, pretending to move your thumb down the screen.

Deep inside, you wanted to run. You wanted to crawl into the nearest, safest place you could find. You wanted to conjure up a way to disappear into thin air. But at the same time, you wanted to stay. To admire the closest thing that reminded you of him. Of Mingyu.

Your heart thumped in your ears. You wanted to hold onto the space where Wonwoo stood. Even as your order came down the bar and you picked it up.

But without meeting his gaze again, you grabbed your cup and turned around, heading to the door.

Wonwoo was there, pushing the door open before you could do it yourself. In one hand, he held his pink smoothie cup, and in the other, he held the door open for you. “Thank you,” you mumbled politely, exiting the coffee shop and joining the slow influx of people walking down the street.

“Don’t mention it,” Wonwoo replied. He looked like he didn’t expect to see you today. And in such a random part of the city.

After a beat, you realized that Wonwoo had fallen into step with you, forced to walk close to you due to the heavily transited sidewalk. 

“Are you heading down to the station?” Wonwoo asked curiously, motioning down at the stairs that led to the underground subway.

“Yeah. You too?” you replied. Your tone sounded suffocated. Like you were struggling to breathe properly.

“Yeah,” he said casually. He raised his gaze, surveying his surroundings like he was looking for a quick exit to leave you on your own.

But you tried to ignore it. A part of you was glad to have someone so familiar, but at the same time, so different from Mingyu. You never felt like Wonwoo liked you, so it was weirdly comforting that you had stumbled upon him. It was having someone so close to Mingyu, but different enough not to expect any questions coming from him.

The stairs were slick, wet with rain as you made your way into the station.

At the platform, the silence stretched. Wonwoo shifted his weight awkwardly, adjusting the strap of the bag slung across his body.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said after a minute, smiling shyly. “I promise I’m not following you or whatever.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down at his feet.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the company,” you admitted with a little bit of struggle.

Wonwoo raised his eyes to you, studying you for a moment. “Okay,” he said, appearing to ground himself next to you. And for a moment, you thought that if you hadn’t said that, he would’ve stepped away.

The train arrived, and you both watched it as it slowly came to a stop. The doors hissed open, and you both went in after waiting patiently for it to clear out.

But it was still very packed with people, forcing you to remain on your feet and close to him. You hooked an arm around the pole, still holding on for dear life to the straps of your tote bag and sipping carefully from your iced coffee.

“Do you—okay,” Wonwoo blurted, opting to stay at your side. He raised an arm over his head to grab onto one of the handles.

The wagon hissed and beeped as the time to get in or exit ran out. The doors closed, and you were gently swayed in motion with the car. Your body was gently moved forward, awkwardly bumping into Wonwoo.

“Sorry,” you whispered nervously, trying not to disrupt the peace and quiet from inside the wagon.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, avoiding your eyes.

You tried to keep at least half an arm’s distance. Every time the train came to a stop, you tried to ground yourself as best as you could, clenching all of your muscles to the point it exhausted you.

And for a moment, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was in fact more normal than you had expected it to be.

“Where do you get off?” you asked after he didn’t exit for three stops. It was then that you started to feel that your plans were about to change. And collide with his. 

“In the next one.”

You nodded slowly, trying to hide your doomed smile.

“You?” he asked, pausing and then, “You too?”

“Yep,” you replied.

Wonwoo let out an amused breath through his nose. “Museum?”

You blinked. “Yes,” you chuckled awkwardly. But then, you looked at Wonwoo, like really looked at him. He was sporting a camera bag across his shoulder.  “Don’t tell me—”

“Sculpture showing?” he raised his eyebrows, huffing a tiny laugh when you nodded.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes.

The museum was half empty. A quiet, bustling series of sounds followed you inside as you moved towards the wide lobby. It was still beginning to rain again as you went inside, making you hope that it’d stop by the time you came out. 

You and Wonwoo moved without talking. As you went into the showing, you realized that it was organized so that you looked at each sculpture in a particular order, starting from the right side of the long room.

The showing was called A Human Connection. 

Wonwoo lingered a few steps away from you, his hands gripping his very expensive-looking camera, his head tilted like he was studying every bit of the sculptures, and looking for the perfect angle for a photo.

You wandered through the first few sculptures, pausing every so often to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You realized he never strayed too far from you. But he didn’t speak, he didn’t voice the curiosity that showed behind his eyes every time his gaze flitted towards you.

The sculptures were beautiful, in a broken way. Bodies twisted in longing, hands that stretched to ghostly partners. Some figures leaned toward each other, sharing frozen and untouched kisses. A male figure knelt in front of a female figure, his arms clinging to her thighs, and he appeared to be hunched over her. Begging. 

You continued walking, trying not to think too much, otherwise it would begin to show on the features of your face. You were beginning to feel deeply affected. 

And then—you were forced to stop in front of one that caught your breath.

It was two human figures carved into smooth white stone, sitting back-to-back. The male figure had a hand stretching back, looking for the female figure who was leaving. In the stone where they both sat was a fracture, separating them definitively.

The woman was leaving. The man was trying to stop her. But beneath them, there was something broken.

You stared at it, feeling like life was playing a sick joke on you. Laughing at your pain.

Wonwoo joined you, standing beside you in utter silence.

You felt his eyes on you, but you pretended to be too enthralled by the sculpture to notice. For a while, neither of you spoke. And you tried your best to push all of your thoughts away.

“Do you think we’re all like that?” Wonwoo asked, his voice so quiet that you barely caught it.

You turned your head slowly. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “People who want to reach out. But only do it when it’s too late.”

You blinked at him, thrown off by the rare glimpse of vulnerability. “M-maybe.”

Wonwoo shifted, fixing his glasses awkwardly. He looked almost embarrassed, as though he, too, had been enthralled by the sculpture, and he didn’t realize who he was talking to. He appeared to be ready to move on to the next sculpture, but you opened your mouth, bringing him to a halt.

“I think that there are some people who still try,” you said. “People who reach out before it’s too late.”

Wonwoo looked at you. And you felt little under his scrutiny. You thought for a moment that he was going to take this as an opportunity to talk about what happened with Mingyu. To say something.

But he just stayed beside you. He had lowered his camera, deciding to absorb the beauty displayed in front of you. The warm light pouring from the skylight overhead created a shadow over the male figure, while the female figure glistened beautifully.

You slowly peeled off from the sculpture and moved onto the next. Wonwoo followed you silently, and you realized that his company was not at all what you had half-expected it to be. It was welcoming, something different and new. Like a silent truce that none of you were ready to acknowledge.

Wonwoo tipped his head toward the exit. “Are you heading back?” he asked when you had toured all the showing from start to finish.

You nodded quietly.

Outside, the sky had darkened. It had stopped raining, but it was considerably colder than before. The sidewalk was wet, and it glimmered under the streetlights, the pavement hissing loudly under the movement of the cars passing through.

You wrapped your arms around you, hugging your sweater tighter. You sucked in a breath, just as your teeth clattered quite dramatically, and loudly.

“Are you cold?” he asked, laughing lightly.

A small but meek smile tugged at your lips. “No, I’m not,” you lied through your teeth, laughing when the answer was obvious.

Wonwoo shrugged his leather jacket off, offering it to you without saying a word.

“I can’t” you said, blinking at him, alarmed.

“Take it,” he said simply. Like it was nothing to him and not something pregnant with meaning. He rolled his eyes, clearly getting why you were hesitant. “You’re shivering, come on.”

You hesitated, but took it anyway.

The fabric was warm, carrying the faintest trace of the laundry detergent that threatened to remind you of someone else. But as you let the jacket sit on your shoulders, another scent brushed against your senses. It was sweet, peachy, and warm. Oddly comforting.

You pulled it over your wrists, hiding your hands inside the sleeves.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything about it, but he looked at your sweater paws, now accompanied by his leather jacket. And the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

For a few blocks, you walked side by side, trading furtive glances when you thought that he might go away, or when you thought he wasn’t looking. He walked slowly, carefully taking each step to keep up with your slow pace. It was a quiet walk. Easy.

When you reached the station, he gave you one inquisitive look.

You knew he was dying to ask—because deep inside, you wanted to ask too. You wanted to know how Mingyu was faring, you wanted to know if he had been working on healing in all these weeks of no contact. A part of you wanted to know if he had tried to look for you.

But you couldn’t do it.

When you reached the station, you hesitated at first, but then you asked, “Are you heading home too?”

He nodded quietly.

“Same line?” you asked, though it was obvious. You knew where he lived and that he would have to use the same line to get there.

“Yeah.”

You both stepped inside the car, the floor wet with the dampness of all of the wet coats and umbrellas.

You quickly found a corner spot, standing close enough to Wonwoo that you could get that peachy scent coming from him too.

You both fell silent again. And it was okay.

As you both made your way out of the station, you realized that it had started raining again. You reached for your umbrella, preparing it as you climbed the stairs to the street.

Wonwoo paused, huffing a light laugh when he realized that it was raining harder than it was before.

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “We can share,” you said, raising the umbrella above your head.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

You found yourself rolling your eyes at him. “You gave me your jacket,” you shrugged. “Fair is fair?”

Wonwoo didn’t understand why the smile was wiped off your face. But your heart had stuttered after you uttered those last words, which echoed to some distant memory. To somewhere you didn’t want to go yet.

For half a second, he remained motionless. But then he stepped closer to you, standing under the umbrella. As you started walking, your shoulders brushed—and you were thankful to have accepted his jacket and couldn’t feel his skin properly.

You both moved down the street slowly. Rain pattered around you, creating a bubble of sound that felt almost too private, enclosing you both.

Wonwoo cleared his throat beside you, adjusting the strap of his camera bag so it wouldn’t bump against you. “Allow me,” he whispered, taking the umbrella from your hand and adjusting it to his height.

“Oh, sorry,” you laughed lightly, realizing that you were making him hunch to fit your size.

“It’s okay,” he replied, glancing your way. He was smiling too, and it was then that you realized that his glasses were starting to fog.

When you reached the next corner, Wonwoo hesitated. “Which way do you take?” he asked.

You realized that while you knew where he lived, he didn’t know where you lived.

“That way,” you pointed. Your shoes were getting soaked. The corners of the umbrella were dripping water all around you. Your shoulder was wet somehow.

“Maybe I could order a ride for you,” he offered, fumbling for his phone.

“No, my place is right down the street,” you said, bringing a hand to stop him, your fingers gently grazing his wrist.

You dropped your hand, as though his skin had burned you.

Wonwoo raised his gaze at you.

“Take it,” you motioned to the umbrella with one hand. “You’ll need it more than I.”

Wonwoo looked at your hand, then at you. Something flickered across his face, but you were too slow to read it.

“Then take my jacket,” he said.

You gaped at him. “Oh, no—”

“Fair is fair,” he cut in.

You couldn’t hide the way his words impacted you. It was as though your chest had turned into ice, making it impossible for you to breathe. You couldn’t stop it now. You thought of him. Of Mingyu, of the rains that had brought him to your life. The first kiss you shared. And your heart broke again.

You blinked repeatedly, expertly hiding your tears. “At least let me know how I could give it back to you,” you stuttered, raising your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo was smart. He must’ve known what you meant. But his eyes read your expression, taking in your words. Returning his jacket was simple—you knew where he worked, where he lived.

“W-without having t-to see him.” You explained, and even though you didn’t utter his name, your heart churned.

Wonwoo took out his phone, handing it to you without a word. “Give me your phone number,” he said at once.

You sent him another alarmed expression. But he was not discussing it.

“Come on. Before we’re both soaked over,” he urged, almost as though it bothered him to know where your uncertainty was coming from.

Your heart twisted. But you took his phone, typing your number and swiftly calling your phone so you could register his number.

You handed his phone back, exchanging one lingering look that meant something. His eyes read your face, probably finding the vulnerable girl in your glinting eyes.

“Take care of yourself,” he muttered dryly, turning away once you nodded at him, too stunned to say something back.

You ran across the street, stopping under the awning before the entrance to your building. Looking over your shoulder, Wonwoo was walking down the street, your umbrella firmly in his grasp as he disappeared into the next corner of the street.

As soon as you came to your apartment, you peeled his jacket off. You saw Wonwoo’s face as the strong smell of peach and pachouli brushed against your senses.

The emptiness inside you started to ache at its edges.

Your apartment was dark, and dead silent. You closed the window to stop the rain from splashing inside and moved to the kitchen.

You had some leftovers from the night before. Curled up on one corner of the couch, watching something you have watched a thousand times already. There was a pause in the movie, and everything stilled in your apartment.

Maybe I should get a cat, you thought impulsively.

Your phone buzzed beside you, making your heart stop for a split-second.

It was past midnight. Nobody really texted you at this hour anymore.

You reached for it, expecting a dumb notification from some random app.

But it was Wonwoo.

“thanks for the umbrella.

you saved my camera. and me.”

You stared at the two text messages for a long second. A part of you wanted to acknowledge the strange, warm feeling you got from getting a text from someone. Even if it was Jeon Wonwoo.

You pulled your knees to your chest, gnawing on your lower lip as you pressed your thumbs on the screen. “You’re welcome. I’m glad.”

Almost immediately, the three little dots appeared. “did you get home alright?”

You didn’t take his text message as an invasion. But almost as a way for him to still be polite. A gentleman.

But you were still caught a little off-guard. It had been a while since you interacted with someone, so for him to be so… thoughtful made you take a pause.

You rested your chin on your knees. “Yeah, I did. Thank you.”

Wonwoo didn’t reply right away.

You stared at the screen for a while, half-expecting the conversation to die there.

But then another reply came, “have a good night.”

Something squeezed painfully in your chest. It was nothing. It’s nothing, you thought over and over. He’s being polite, nothing more.

A part of you felt ridiculed. Someone was being nice to you and your heart was already suffering, hurting as though you were running a marathon. Running away from something, more like.

“Thanks. You too,” you replied, acknowledging the way your heart faltered in stress with a big sigh.

It was nothing, yet you put your phone away as though it had suddenly burned your hands. The emptiness inside you warmed over such simple words. But just like that, the cocoon that you had wrapped to protect yourself was fractured.

Resurfacing meant that you had to give explanations to the people closest to you.

You pushed the door open to Casa Pump House, relieved to find it emptier than usual. Wednesday evenings were quieter. You’d been strictly coming to the gym around seven—avoiding Sundays at all costs. And so far, you’d successfully avoided Mingyu.

What you couldn’t avoid though, was Jungkook’s expert capacity for gossip. He’d known something was wrong after Mingyu broke up with you—your two-week disappearance and radio silence were louder than any verbal confirmation.

You only started coming to the gym sporadically, and you rarely caught Jungkook on shift. But the times you did, you avoided talking about it, about him. And Jungkook took the hint.

However, he could only keep it to himself for so long.

“Aaay,” Jungkook jogged over with a wide smile, softening the features of his face. “If it isn’t my favorite girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Is that what you tell every girl in here?”

He shrugged. “Just the ones that are evil to me,” he said with a light chuckle. But the grin slowly vanished, as his doe eyes studied you from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

Your heart faltered at the sound of his voice softening. He must’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “I think you already know,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Jungkook pursed his lips slightly, giving you a short nod. “Yeah. He uh… he told me last night when I stopped by the bar,” he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He chewed on the side of his lip that wasn’t adorned with piercings. “How are you handling it?”

You licked your lips and balled a hand into a fist, trying to hold yourself true to your promise. “I’m doing okay,” you said. But your voice came out thinner than you had wanted. You sounded brittle, and unsure. “As best as I can be.”

The features of his face shifted, and he took a tiny step towards you, having to tilt his head forward to look into your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, even though you were the only ones in the gym at that moment, and no one would listen to you.

You shook your head, tightening your lips into a straight line.

“That’s okay,” he said, his tone still gentle and quiet. “If you ever need to talk about it—about anything at all—you know you can call me, right?”

You raised your gaze to his big eyes. You never expected someone so lively and fun to bring you such calm to your heart. You nodded. “Thank you, JK,” you whispered, unable to bring your voice any higher. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded. “Don’t mention it,” he said. And then, stepping back, he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap. “Alright, let’s put you to work. Let’s go!” he roared vigorously.

You smiled despite yourself, wishing you could just flip a switch like that.

But for the first time in weeks, you felt better.

The Spot was quiet, as expected from a rainy Tuesday afternoon. But being it being a slow day didn’t mean that the regular tasks stopped there.

Seungcheol had taken the day off with his girlfriend. So that meant that it was just Mingyu and Wonwoo handling the bar. But that was fine, since the only customers there were the three Tuesday usuals.

Mingyu had been trying not to fixate on his phone, but he had been struggling to keep himself present and found that looking at mindless things on his phone allowed him to escape his reality.

Lately, life had been suffocating. Work was alright, nothing Mingyu couldn’t deal with. No, the suffocating feeling came from not being able to stop wishing he had something that occupied his time, his energy and his mind completely.

Because every time that silence stretched and he found himself alone, he would see you in the eye of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he did the right thing, he still felt that he had made a terrible mistake.

His fingers itched—he wanted to call you, to open your chat and tell you to meet up. He wanted to tell you that he missed you every single day and night. When it got dark and quiet, he ached to call you. Even if it was the middle of the night, just to hear your voice. To hear your tiny, and sweet giggles.

He blinked slowly, breathing in deeply to try and get rid of the pain in his chest. It was as though the feelings that were beginning to bloom for you had withered and had grown thorns around them, twisting around his heart.  

He was at that point in his heartbreak where memories were beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t keep himself away from them. Sometimes he wished he had taken photos of you so he could have your pretty face to look at when he missed you too much. But he resorted to just looking at your profile photo.

It was a photo that your best friend, Mona, had taken one night out. You were smiling at the camera, lifting your chin in a prim manner. Behind you was a colorful mural, painting two great wings behind you, spreading and merging with an array of wildflowers.

You were squeezing your eyes shut in the photo. And he could almost picture the moment—your friend convincing you to take the photo, and you standing there until something got a smile out of you.

His heart twisted painfully when the word Online appeared below your name. He exited the chat quickly, feeling ridiculous for a moment. He pocketed his phone, lifting his gaze to make sure that no one had seen him act so impulsively.

But as he resumed with his task behind the bar, he was consumed now with memories of you. A call wouldn’t hurt, a sneaky thought flashed across his mind. She would understand, she always does.

No, Mingyu told himself sternly. He has done enough damage to you. He came into your life just to make a mess of it. You were better off without him.

He was a mess. And he had to make himself better before he could seek you out again.

Because that was his plan, at least. Get better, heal his heart, and look for you when he were ready.   

Maybe that’s why he felt so out of place. Because, in his heart, he wanted you. He wanted more with you, but just didn’t feel like he was ready to fully love you yet. He knew what he was capable of when his heart was in it. When he wasn’t backing away at the first sign of commitment.

He knew that you deserved better. And he could give you better.

But it wasn’t the right time.

Still, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t think of you. Even though memories hurt, he was addicted to them. Like blissfully drowning in a violent river.

He thought of you, of your voice, of the smell of your hair. He liked to live in the memories where you looked at him lovingly. Those memories when he was inside your body, kissing you like you were his lifeline, because maybe you were.

In his mind, he hugged your body again, losing himself in you. Kissing you, telling you things he never got to in real life.

Something was beginning to rouse inside him when a hand came to his shoulder, patting him in a familiar, gentle way.

Mingyu turned around. Wonwoo was just coming back from his break, nodding to the kitchen door. “You have one hour,” he said promptly.

“What’s on the menu today?” Mingyu asked, not caring that he wasn’t even pretending enough to make his voice sound livelier.

“Sandwiches and fries,” Wonwoo replied, looking curiously at Mingyu, but didn’t ask any questions.

Wonwoo was a very patient friend. He would never intrude when he felt things were still stormy—so he hadn’t dared to pry since the night Mingyu broke up with you.

But Wonwoo was there to see the mess. Mingyu had come home that night and didn’t say a word. He locked himself in his room, and for two whole days, Wonwoo didn’t see or speak to him.

Ever since that night, Mingyu had seemed… hollow. Soulless. Like something in him was missing, and with each passing day, it only got worse—not better.

And ever since Wonwoo saw you at the museum, he’d wanted to ask Mingyu what really happened. But it still felt too soon.

“I’ll be back, then,” Mingyu said, patting Wonwoo’s back as he walked past.

Wonwoo nodded, his eyes following Mingyu until he disappeared through the kitchen door. He exhaled heavily, shaking his head before returning to the task he’d left off. He was in the middle of organizing the inventory, a routine so familiar, he could practically do it with his eyes closed.

The front door creaked open. Wonwoo would’ve normally glanced up to greet whoever entered, but he was too focused on counting boxes of beer.

“What are you serving tonight, sir?” a familiar voice called out.

Wonwoo smiled. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure settling on the stool at the bar.

“Same as ever,” he said, raising his gaze to meet one of his oldest friends. Changkyun.

Wonwoo set his notebook aside and turned to the fridge, grabbing a beer. He placed the bottle on the counter just as Changkyun reached for the opener.

“It’s been a while,” Changkyun said with a tired groan.

“Well, since you started living your healthy life, I see you less,” Wonwoo quipped with a small smile.

“Healthy life?” Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “Getting up at five in the morning to host a radio show is not my definition of healthy.”

“Still, you get more sleep than I do,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Shut up. You probably make more money in a week with those stupid girls’ nights you’re always advertising,” Changkyun said, narrowing his eyes and pointing at Wonwoo with the neck of the beer.

“That wasn’t my idea—it was Mingyu’s,” Wonwoo replied, raising both palms in mock innocence.

Right then, Mingyu came out of the kitchen. He didn’t acknowledge either of them. He walked straight past the bar and exited through the back door, a storm cloud in human form.

“What’s up with him?” Changkyun motioned toward the door Mingyu had just walked through.

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the door for a moment, ensuring it was shut, then turned back to Changkyun. “Same thing as last time.”

Changkyun raised his eyebrows. “Damn. That breakup hit him harder than I thought.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow. “He and Gigi broke up months ago,” he said. “This is someone else.”

“Really?” Changkyun tilted his head. “Huh. One messy breakup can lead to an even messier one.”

Wonwoo remained quiet. His own experience with heartbreak was... limited, at best. If he could call it that. He had only ever had healthy, uneventful relationships. Nothing explosive. Nothing shattering. He even stayed friends with all of his exes.

“Please elaborate,” he muttered, resting his hands on the lacquered countertop.

Changkyun shrugged. “You know—when you're still hurting from one person and find someone else to patch you up?” he said. “One poison drives out another.”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away.

But part of his mind replayed the memory of you—standing beneath the skylight at the museum. The distant look in your eyes. Like something wild and wounded, cautiously stepping into the world again.

He also remembered the night at the bar. When he’d warned you to be careful with Mingyu. Because at the time, he truly believed it was you who might hurt him. Now he realized you’d defended Mingyu so vehemently—only to be the one left behind. It wasn’t you who had been reckless. You weren’t the loose cannon. It was Mingyu.

“I don’t really like what you’re insinuating,” Wonwoo said, rolling his eyes. But deep down, he couldn’t deny that Changkyun might be right.

“Relax, I’m not saying he used her intentionally,” Changkyun replied, glancing at the back door. “But he could still care about her... and use her at the same time.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t make it easier. I’d hate myself too, if I were in his shoes.”

Wonwoo weighed this new idea in silence. He knew Mingyu—knew how deeply he could love. But ever since that breakup with Gigi, something in him had changed. He was more guarded, more distant. A little broken.

Still, to seek you out as comfort… only to discard you when things got too real? That was something Wonwoo never imagined his best friend capable of.

And now, he wondered. Had Mingyu ever really seen you for who you were? Or was he only ever looking for someone to fill the void?

Did he look for his ex in your eyes?

Wonwoo grabbed his phone, quickly finding your name in the list of chats he had ongoing. “there’s a bookstore right across the street from the museum” he wrote to you, his fingers quickly sending out the next words: “we could meet there if you’re free next monday”

You stared at the screen, your heart thudding nervously.

“Hello?” you typed back. “Not even a hi, good evening?”

The three little dots appeared on his end quickly. “hi” he replied.

“How very eloquent,” you mumbled to yourself, your thumbs hovering over the keypad, but you stopped yourself before you could think of what else to say.

“or maybe we could meet somewhere closer to yours, however you prefer” read his texts after some seconds went by.

Your breathing was uneasy. This wasn’t a date. Or something where you had to make yourself look pretty and presentable, you told yourself.

It was simple.

“I love bookstores” you wrote, and then: “And I’m free this Monday”

His reply came shortly after that. “good. see you then”

And that was it.

So Monday rolled around quicker than you probably would have wished for. The morning was wrapped in a chilly layer of mist from the rains overnight. The clouds hung low, dark, and almost threatening to rain again.

You wore a raincoat and packed an extra umbrella, just in case. Since the day was already cold, you made sure to dress appropriately, but as you made your way to the station, beads of sweat had started to gather on your forehead.

Inside the car, you could feel the warmth coming from the heaters below, making you wish you had worn lighter clothes. But with this treacherous weather, it was better to be safe than sorry.

You adjusted the strap of your bag nervously as you walked down the street. You were familiar with the bookstore where Wonwoo wanted to meet with you, but you had never gone inside. You were curious to know why he wanted to meet there—was it because it was so close to the museum?

You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open. You were immediately hit with a sense of wonder, and the questions in your head also piled up and doubled the size once you went inside.

The store wasn’t a typical one. It was just one floor, with rows of sandy brown bookshelves lined up and organized in a way that almost made it look like a maze. In the middle, there was a circular coffee bar. Low indie music played in the background, occasionally interrupted by the loud hiss of the coffee machines.

Wonwoo sat on one of the stools, his fingers wrapped around a small white coffee cup. He took a sip, then lowered the cup slowly. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them up, raising his gaze.

He spotted you immediately, but his expression gave no indication of whether he was pleased to see you.

This was slightly perplexing as you approached the bar. Something stirred inside you at the scent of coffee—and the strong smell of peaches and pachouli.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Wonwoo said quietly, turning to glance at the light book he’d been reading. He closed it, resting his palm on top.

You flashed him an alarmed look, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why, am I late?” you asked, checking your watch.

“No, just—” Wonwoo shook his head lightly. He motioned to the blackboard menu in front of you. “Coffee?”

You gaped at him a little. “Yeah,” you sighed, discontent creeping into your voice. “You’re really confusing to me.”

Wonwoo arched an eyebrow, watching as you ordered. Once the barista took your request, he cleared his throat. “Why confusing?” he asked, lifting his cup again. You noticed he was drinking a double espresso.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, lowering the straps of your bag and placing it on your lap.

You looked up at the ceiling. The soft, orange glow from the lights above made the space feel warmer—almost like an eternal sunset. The room was also adorned with hanging plants that reached into every corner.

You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze on you, and when you turned to him, your suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t look away or pretend not to be observing you.

But you were the one who turned away first. “I thought you hated me,” you confessed, lowering your voice as shyness crept up your neck, making your face hot.

His lips curved in a tiny, downturned smile. “Why?” he asked gently.

The barista placed your drink beside you. You thanked them, wrapping your hands around the cup, even though your fingers weren’t cold.

“I just got the feeling you didn’t like me. When I was dating Mingyu,” you said, your heart stammering at your own boldness.

Wonwoo blinked, taking the last sip of his coffee. “I never disliked you,” he said bluntly, offering a solemn look that made you realize how quickly you had judged him. “Nor did I have anything against you. I thought I was looking out for him.”

“Yeah. I got that,” you whispered, nervously rotating your cup on its saucer.

He leaned in slightly, his face still serious—but now tinged with a quiet kindness. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you smiled, unable to hide the hurt lingering behind your eyes.

He tapped his thumb against the cup and drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Are you doing okay?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as he looked at you.

You met his gaze, surprised by both the question and the softness in his tone. You opened your mouth to lie—to say you were fine, better than ever.

But there was no escaping his expert scrutiny.

“I’m trying,” you finally admitted, your voice barely holding itself up.

Wonwoo nodded, gaze softening. But he didn’t push further. It was almost like he was waiting to confirm something he already suspected.

“Is he—” you swallowed hard, nearly choking on your spit as you turned your face. You sighed the nerves out of your chest.

“He’s doing okay,” Wonwoo said, understanding exactly what you meant to ask.

There was honesty in his eyes. But then he looked back down at his empty coffee cup.

“He’s kind of a mess, but he’ll be fine,” he added. Now his voice carried a raw edge to it. “Mingyu has a tendency to fall too fast. Gets hurt in the process. Always.”

The words rang with a heavy familiarity. You blinked, trying to recall where you’d heard them before.  It was in your kitchen. One morning, after Mingyu had stayed over. The ache in your heart returned. “I know,” you choked out. “He told me.”

“I’m sorry it ended like that,” Wonwoo said. “For both of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you blinked, confused.

The light glimmered off his glasses. You saw his dark eyes searching your face, his lips parting ever so slightly.

“I guess this is me offering you an olive branch,” he said with a polite smile. “I never meant to intimidate you—or make you feel like I didn’t like you.” He straightened up in his seat, bowing his head slightly. “I regret being an asshole to you.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re forgiven,” you said, warmth creeping into your chest. “But don’t think we’re friends now,” you teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a grin.

You smiled—and your eyes drifted to the camera bag on the stool beside him.

The shop was nearly deserted. Two girls browsed the graphic novel aisle, while a few others lingered near the coffee bar. It reminded you of The Spot—except with bookshelves and hanging plants, instead of bright neon signs and loud rock music.

“Do you come here often?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “It��s quiet. Coffee’s good. Cookies are even better,” he added, pointing to the pastry case behind the glass.

“Have you tried them all?” you asked, eyeing the double chocolate cookie.

“I haven’t tried the pumpkin one,” he shook his head lightly.

You ordered a chocolate cookie, thinking that you were probably in need of a sugar rush. But deep down, you were wary, trying to protect yourself from more questions that you were sure were about to start.

“Do you carry your camera everywhere?” you asked instead, motioning to the camera bag on the other seat next to him.

“Just when I have days off,” he shrugged. “Mingyu pushed me to do this photography course online, and they’re very strict about the homework so,” he clicked his tongue, patting the camera bag with one hand.

You wanted to huff, getting the familiarity of his words yet again. “You don’t say.”

You took a bite from your chocolate cookie, humming in delight as the chocolate chips melted on your tongue. Wonwoo glanced your way, smiling softly as he outlined the corner of the book cover with one fingertip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and it was the gentleness in his tone that really grounded you in reality.

You shook your head, swallowing hard as you tried to keep yourself composed. “I’m not good at talking about things,” you pointed out.

But you didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the chocolate dimming your good senses. Maybe it was the coziness inside the book shop that made you feel wrapped up in warmth and the smell of fresh coffee.

Or maybe it was the sound of Wonwoo’s voice. Inviting, soft and comfortable like velvet.

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “I knew Mingyu was still healing from his previous relationship. But I still decided to stay, to be there for him. And he was really reassuring, you know? Sometimes he made me forget about his situation.”

You risked sending a quick glance at Wonwoo, and he nodded to you. “Yeah, I know,” he said gently.

“But one day he would tell me he wanted to be with me, and then he would disappear for days,” you added, and your throat closed up, your voice sounding bitter at the end of your sentence.

The atmosphere stilled, like stopping to witness your heartache. Even though time had passed, and you hadn’t seen Mingyu or talked to him again—the wound was still fresh. Flashes from when you sat at those bleachers haunted you, threatening to swallow you whole.

“It’s crazy because we were never anything serious,” you shrugged as a defense mechanism, like trying to get rid of the burden around your shoulders. “It was casual. No strings, no expectations—” you huffed a bitter laugh, tears brimming in your eyes. “But it hurts even more than when I broke up with my ex.”

Wonwoo shifted beside you, turning slightly on his seat to look at you better. “Your ex?” he muttered, so quietly that you barely heard him.

You nodded slowly, chewing on your lower lip. “Before Mingyu, I was with someone for years,” you said, and somehow, it felt easier to tell Wonwoo. As though nothing could hurt you anymore. “We lived together. I had plans and dreams of building a life with him, but…” You looked away, sighing tiredly. “He told me he wasn’t looking for marriage, nor something more serious.”

There was a pause.  And you were sure that Wonwoo was waiting for you to say something else, but you just took another bite from your cookie.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must’ve been really difficult for you,” he said, shifting again on his seat as he sighed deeply.

But your words started to sink into his mind. What happened with Mingyu was even more hurtful than what your ex-boyfriend did to you. Breaking up with someone after an unreconcilable difference was something—and by the time you broke up with him, you were already emotionally resigned.

But the feeling of almost being something cut even deeper.

You laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry I’m dumping all of this on you,” you told him, holding in your tears. “And after telling you that I wasn’t good at talking about serious stuff.”

Wonwoo shrugged, giving you a light, easy smile. “It’s the curse of a bartender,” he told you. “But I’m glad that you opened up. It’s already hard to deal with things, but to keep them all to yourself makes it suffocating.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you mumbled.

You placed your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your fist. “So you took the photos that are hanging on your living room?” you asked promptly, making it obvious that you needed to change the subject.

And he caught it straight away. “A couple of them, yes,” he mumbled, looking down at his camera bag. “I’m actually thinking of taking a stroll near the river. I have this task I need to get done, and maybe I can snap some good photos there.”

Your tummy twisted. It was hard to read if it was an invitation or not, so you just nodded.

“If you wanna come and hang out, it’s fine by me,” he whispered, noticing the hesitation in your expression.

You saw the glint in his eyes, there was an easiness on the tiny smile he showed you.

You were almost about to decline. To tell him that you were busy and had a ton of things to do at home.

But you felt lonely. And there was nothing serious about his invitation. It was just hanging out. 

“I’d like that,” you replied. But then you paused, “But before we go, I want to get some books.”

You stepped outside the shop and waited.

The pavement was slick with water from the light rain that had ceased moments before. The sky was still gray, blanketing the street with a quiet, gloomy heaviness.

Wonwoo followed soon after, now wearing the jacket he’d lent you. He glanced up at the sky and made a face. “This is not very ideal,” he muttered.

You nodded, adjusting the strap of your tote bag, which now hung heavy with books. “We could wait it out,” you offered with a shrug.

He looked around, scanning for shelter.

“Or,” you added, “we could just make our way to the river—take the opportunity while it’s not raining.”

Before he could respond, you were already heading down the street. Wonwoo fell into step beside you, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“What did you get?” he asked, nodding toward your tote bag.

“A couple of graphic novels,” you said, peeking into the bag. “I’m also doing a course—learning tips and tricks about graphic design.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You also got convinced to take a course?”

You nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Wonwoo patted his camera bag. “I see,” he murmured, voice low.

A silence fell between you. But it wasn’t awkward—not this time. It reminded you of that quiet day at the museum. Stillness, but not distance.

“This is nice,” you said.

He turned his head toward you. “What is?”

“Not trying to run off,” you answered. “Not pretending I’m okay.”

He blinked, visibly unsure how to respond. But he didn’t look away. Something about speaking plainly with him felt good. For the first time in months, you weren’t hiding. You didn’t have to pretend you weren’t hurting.

After a moment, Wonwoo pushed his glasses up. “It is nice,” he said softly.

Both of you walked in silence, the city slightly slowed and hushed by the cold rain. The river glinted ahead, catching what little light managed to break through the clouds.

Wonwoo paused, slipping his bag off his shoulder and unzipping it. “Wait,” he said.

You tilted your head. “You don’t want to get closer to the river?”

“This is okay,” he murmured, already adjusting his camera.

A twist tightened in your tummy when you realized the lens was pointing toward you. “Should I step away?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked through the viewfinder with quiet concentration. “Don’t move,” he murmured.

You obeyed, though your nerves got the better of you—you shifted slightly, turning your head to the side to avoid meeting the camera’s eye.

Through the lens, Wonwoo saw you standing alone on the path that led down to the river. The pavement was scattered with the last of autumn’s leaves, but it was your face that caught him—the distant, thoughtful look in your eyes. The way you refused to look at him, even though he was really seeing you. All of you.

When he lowered the camera, you exhaled. “You could’ve told me you needed a model.”

The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe. But you would’ve said no.”

“True,” you admitted. “I’m not a model. I don’t know how to pose.”

“So you say,” he replied, brushing past you with a grin. “Stand over there.”

He pointed to a spot closer to the river, and you laughed under your breath.

“Fine. But you’re holding this.”

You shoved your tote bag full of books into his hands. He caught it with ease, the grin on his face widening.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest ached a little less. There was something in his boyish smile, in the gentle playfulness behind his glasses. And without thinking, you moved to where he asked, standing without questioning his order.

But the moment you stopped, you became overly aware of your body—your arms, your shoulders, your mouth.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo said softly.

You did. And in that moment, you forgot what it meant to pose. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t guarded. You just looked at him. And he looked at you, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The camera clicked. And you waited for him to take another shot, or to move.

“That’s it?” you asked, blinking away from him.

“I got it,” he nodded, his voice slightly hoarse.

He lowered the camera, and his eyes lingered on you for a second longer than they should’ve. His gaze softened. He looked thoughtful for a moment, until he gave you a sheepish smile.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”

You snorted. “Surprisingly?” you said with a laugh, stepping toward him. “I probably look like those Renaissance paintings where they were still figuring out how to paint cats.”

He laughed out loud. “You’d make a very cute ugly cat,” he teased.

Your cheeks flushed, and you almost hated that you were smiling at him. But then his eyes met yours again, and you felt that same shift in your chest. That stupid pull, that traitorous flutter of your heart.

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, motioning at his camera. “Would you like to see the picture?”

You hesitated for a second—unsure why it suddenly felt like it was a big deal to step in closer to him—but nodded. He stepped closer, holding out his camera. And you leaned in, your shoulder brushing his.

You tried to focus on the photo, but the proximity was almost dizzying, and the strong smell of peaches filled your head. Your breath hitched.

The photo wasn’t perfect. You instantly saw all of the little imperfections surrounding you. Your hair was windblown, your expression flat. But your eyes… there was a softness in your eyes. A realness in them.

“You see?” he said. “Surprisingly photogenic.”

“I look caught off guard,” you murmured sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t look good,” he corrected gently.

Your heart thumped so hard that you were sure it was almost audible. But he didn’t look away.

You breathed in, trying to push the fluttering feeling out of you as you exhaled. “I should get going,” you said.

Wonwoo nodded, noticing the look in your eyes. “Your bag,” he said and unhooked the umbrella that you had lent him the other night. “Thank you for the umbrella and now the photos. I owe you one.”

You gave him a small smile. “You owe me nothing,” you told him. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Wonwoo paused, and for the first time, you wanted to get an in on what he was thinking. “Right,” he nodded.

Friends.

The apartment was dark when Wonwoo walked in, and only the faint light coming from the TV illuminated the way. Slipping off his shoes, he took his jacket off and hung it on the coat rack by the entrance.

Mingyu was on the couch, looking at his phone, not really watching anything. He was just sitting there, elbows planted on his knees, head bowed like he had been stuck in that position for a while before Wonwoo came home.

Wonwoo opened the fridge, took out a banana milk and punched the hole with the little straw. He sipped quietly, afraid to break the silence.

But it was Mingyu who spoke first. “You were out late.”

Wonwoo leaned against the counter, pressing his elbows against it. “Yeah. I went to the bookstore. Took some photos near the river.”

Mingyu nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked slowly, starting to feel worried.

Mingyu shook his head. “I ruined everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say anything right away. The rawness in Mingyu’s voice made Wonwoo’s heart falter.

“I keep thinking about her. About what I did,” Mingyu said, putting his phone away.

Wonwoo caught a glimpse of your profile photo on the display. His heart dropped to his stomach. “So call her.”

Mingyu gave a small, empty smile. “It’s not that simple,” he said, rolling his eyes with an annoyance that Wonwoo was sure was directed towards something else, not him.

“No, I know it’s not simple,” he said. “But it’s a start.”

Mingyu finally looked up, his tired eyes finding Wonwoo’s. “Would you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “If you had broken her heart, would you do it?”

Wonwoo shrugged, like the answer was clear as day. “If I cared about her, yeah. I would.”

Wonwoo remembered your sad smile. He remembered the brittle sound of your voice when you talked about your past heartbreak.

Mingyu looked away, shaking his head. “She deserved better than the way I left things.”

Wonwoo’s throat tightened, it was hard to swallow. He thought about the photos in his camera. About you. Your eyes. The way you were finally starting to laugh again.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said softly. “Yeah, she does.”

But Mingyu didn’t catch the shift in his tone. He locked his phone, deciding to not call you, nor text you. Not yet.

“I’m not ready,” Mingyu said, rising from the couch.

Wonwoo watched him walk to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

After a moment, Wonwoo decided to head to his bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

He leaned against the door for a long second, letting his head rest back, closing his eyes. The silence inside the apartment felt heavier—a hundred times worse than before.

He pressed the Enter button on his keyboard, bringing his computer to life. The hum coming from the fans of his computer started to fill the room. Wonwoo used the faint light coming from his double monitors to look for a change of clothes, something comfortable, before he sat down to work.

After he found a pair of black shorts and an oversized white t-shirt, he sat down on his chair, getting his camera out of its bag.

He scrolled through the different photos he got from the day at the museum. And then the photos he got from today. Photos of the wet pavement, the river, and the leaves scattered on the floor.

And you.

Wonwoo’s breath caught when he saw a photo he didn’t realize he had caught. In this photo, you weren’t looking at the camera. There was a softness in your features, a sad look in your eyes. The way you stood in the light, the shadows pooling at your feet.

Wonwoo stared at the photo, his finger hovering on the right click for a second before he moved the photo to another folder. One that wasn’t destined for the task.

He leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his long, dark hair. He didn’t want to feel guilty. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew this. But the weight in his heart begged to differ.

Wonwoo reached for his phone as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Then, with a laboured sigh, he opened your chat.

The last message between you and him was a simple thank you after he asked if you had arrived home alright. It was simple, friendly. 

Wonwoo hesitated, flexing his fingers over the keyboard before typing: “it was good seeing you today”

And that was it. He put the phone away, face down on his desk and dropped his head back against the chair. His heart was doing that stutter that it hadn’t done in a while. 

In years, even.

Things happen randomly sometimes. You weren’t looking for your life to be derailed one Sunday night. Not on purpose, at least.

You were curled up on your bed, scrolling numbly through your phone, a thing that would eventually lead to falling asleep, but you weren’t having any luck yet.

Your phone started vibrating in your hands, and the picture of your best friend from college, Mona appeared on the screen.

You had been dodging her calls lately, feeling like your recent actions might bring her judgment. But something about her calling late at night spiked your intrigue.

You swiped your thumb across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey there,” Mona replied, and something about her tone was off.

“Is everything okay?” you asked curiously.

“I need you to sit down,” Mona instructed bluntly.

You sat up on your bed, reclining on the headboard. “What’s happening?”

“Listen, I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to find out by other means.”

“Please, Mona, just tell me,” you sighed tiredly, already feeling the weight of anxiousness seeping in.

“Jay is getting married.”

You stopped cold. It was as though you were abruptly submerged into a pool of ice-cold water. Your body was too slow and too heavy to muster a reaction.

“W-what?” you blurted. A part of you felt like your friend was playing a really bad prank on you.

“Jay just announced his engagement,” she repeated, and you could hear the raw rage in her tone.

“H-how do you know?” you stammered, trying to compose yourself with slow and deep breaths.

Mona didn’t get along with your ex-boyfriend. Or with anyone who was still related to him. You knew this.

“Someone sent me screenshots. Look—I don’t mean to put you in a bad spot, but,” she paused, and you could tell from the deep sigh coming out of her that she was debating to tell you more. “But you deserve to know. Before someone else tells you and makes it worse.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath catching painfully against your ribs. “Thank you, Mona,” you told her.

“I got you,” she said right before hanging up.

It was about two seconds later that she sent you two pictures. There he was. Your ex. Smiling in a way you hadn’t seen in years, his arm slung around someone else’s shoulders. It was a girl you didn’t recognize. But she was cute. Glowing with a radiant smile on her face, showing off her brand new engagement ring.

The caption under the photo made your stomach lurch.

To a future together- Mr. and Ms. Bang 💞

You stared at the photo. Read the caption. Then stared at the photo again.

The screen blurred, and you realized that your hands were shaking.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

You left the phone aside, burying your face in your hands as though you could fix the stabbing pain in your chest.

You weren’t supposed to care anymore. You stopped caring about your ex long ago. But the pain was raw, eating at your heart quickly. It hurt so deep you couldn’t breathe.

It was like you were sitting at that basketball court again. With nothing but your aching heart in your hands.

The room was spinning, and everything felt wrong. You got out of bed, grabbed your hoodie, keys, and shoved your phone in your pocket. And without thinking, you scrambled to the door.

You needed to get out of there. You needed to move, to do something.

It rained again on the walk to the nearest convenience store. But you didn’t bother with an umbrella this time. You let the drizzle soak into your hair, your hoodie, your sneakers.

Maybe the rain could help wash this pain out of you. Maybe the rain could fix whatever was broken inside you.

You grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol, not caring what you took with you and paid.

You were walking out of the convenience store when you bumped into him. A tall, hard frame that almost had you stumbling back onto the floor, weren’t for those hands holding you steady.

You looked up, your heart stopping at once when you saw the man who had helped you catch your step.

“Careful there,” Jeon Wonwoo said, helping you catch your step.

His gaze swept over you—taking in your soaked hoodie, your damped hair, your hurt, glassy eyes.

“Sorry,” you said awkwardly, looking down at your feet.

Rain continued to fall, slowly, trickling down the back of your head and soaking through your clothes. You were sure that Wonwoo had already spotted the state you were in, and the bag with bottles of alcohol inside.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, studied you.

And saying nothing was somehow worse. Because it meant that he saw all of you. He saw the way you could barely hold yourself together. Your lip quivered. You hated yourself. You hated the power that you had given to other people to make you feel this way.

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight the sting in your eyes. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was heading back home but—” Wonwoo took a cautious step towards you, like approaching something wounded and dangerous.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible. “You’re okay?”

The stupid kindness in his voice snapped something inside you.

The first sob ripped from your throat without any warning. It was sharp, humiliating. It told of the many days and nights you contained yourself. You clamped a hand over your mouth, but it was far too late.

Wonwoo swayed towards you, closing the distance. He didn’t touch you, not right away. He just stood there, as though figuring out what to do. Figuring out what he wanted to do.

Something broke loose in you. Without thinking, you stumbled forward, crashing into his chest. Your hand clutched the front of his jacket, twisting the fabric.

Wonwoo caught you with not even a second of hesitation, wrapping you in a big hug. Like he was holding you to keep you from falling onto the ground. 

You didn’t question it, and neither did he. It was a simple gesture. A human connection. 

You cried against his chest, broken, shuddering gasps tearing out from your chest as the flood you had been containing finally broke loose. A part of you wanted to explain to him why you were crying. But you couldn’t make out the words—the pain was so great, greater than you.

You had broken your promise. 

“I’m sorry,” you said disjointedly, backing away from him while wiping your tears.

“It’s okay,” he said, sending a look around. “Where are you going with that?” he asked, motioning to the paper bag you were holding in one arm.

“To my home,” you sniffled, pointing down the street.

“Do you need company?” he said politely, but you realized he wasn’t taking a no for an answer. “Let me walk you there.”

You wondered how messed up you really looked like that, he felt compelled to walk you home. “Okay,” you agreed, and started walking towards your apartment building.

The walk was quiet. Your head was so filled with different thoughts that you couldn’t bring yourself to say something.

You didn’t remember the walk to your building. But you remember standing beneath the awning, turning around, and sending a flitting glance up to his face.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked slowly. It was a simple question.

Your throat tightened, and burned. Gnawing on your lower lip, you nodded.

A worried expression flashed across the features of his face. It was for a second, fleeting.

“Come upstairs?” you asked, and the sorrow and desperation rose in your tone, showing in your eyes. “Please.”

His mouth parted ever so slightly. He surely must’ve realized the implications of him coming to your apartment. But what exactly was to be expected?

“Of course.”

Stepping inside your apartment with Wonwoo following you closely felt surreal. But everything else going on in your life made it shrink in comparison.

“Come in,” you whispered, leaving your sneakers at the front door, closing it once Wonwoo followed you inside, watching you closely.

You hadn’t even turned the lights off when you walked out of your apartment. You left the bag on the counter before grabbing a bottle, cracking it open and gulping down three large mouthfuls of straight alcohol.

Wonwoo blinked in shock. “Oh, God,” he stammered, watching you as though he needed to do something soon. “Calm down.”

You exhaled heavily, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You motioned the bottle to him, raising your eyebrows.

But he shook his head. “I don’t drink,” he said politely.

“Okay, then,” you shrugged, drinking down another three large gulps.

Wonwoo watched you intently, crossing his arms as the muscles of his jaw tightened. “You’re scaring me,” he said finally.

You laughed—a raw and broken sound. It tore from your chest. “Good,” you said, putting the bottle down.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low. He tilted his head forward, his eyes zeroing in on you.

You shook your head, commanding your gaze to look anywhere else but his face. But sadness started to seep in, like icy venom running through your veins. Anger and humiliation took over so fast that you couldn’t stop the muscles of your face from contracting.

“My ex,” you choked out. “Remember him? The one I spent years with, the one who swore he would never be ready for commitment?”  

Wonwoo’s posture shifted slightly, his mouth parted with realization before you could even speak out the following words:

“He’s just got engaged,” you said, your tone breaking in the middle of your sentence. “He’s getting married to someone else. Someone good enough.”

The words were heavy, bitter on your tongue. And even if they weren’t true to some extent, they hurt to say.

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He blinked slowly once, breathing in through his nose. And when he opened his eyes again, you saw anger flashing in his eyes. But you also saw pity in them.

You laughed again, the sound dry and almost miserable. “It’s not like I care about him,” you spat. “It’s not about him.” You looked down at your hands, trembling around the bottle of alcohol. “It’s about me.”

You finally raised your gaze, making eye contact with him. You hated the broken worry you saw in his eyes. The way his eyebrows twitched, and his dark eyes searched your face. You wondered what he was seeing in your face that made him react that way.

“It’s gotta be me, right? I have to be the common denominator,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s always me. I’m not good enough to stay for.”

You let out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. A broken moan of loneliness, heaviness. A storm that was brewing deep inside you, and it wasn’t just because of this recent turn of events.

“But that’s not it,” you said, hot tears brimming in your eyes as your voice rose: “It’s everyone. No matter what I do. I’m always someone’s almost.”

Your voice cracked in the last word, and you had to bit down on your lip to stop it from trembling.

Through the corner of your eye, you saw Wonwoo approaching, closing the space in your tiny kitchen. It was a cautious move, but steady. Determined.

“You’re not the problem,” he said firmly. “You’re better off without him. He’s an idiot.”

You laughed bitterly this time. “Right. Because Mingyu wasn’t another idiot who decided that I wasn’t enough either.”

Wonwoo flinched.

But you didn’t care if your words were harsh. You tipped the bottle between your lips again, downing the last bit of alcohol in it. You would feel its effects soon, and you were beginning to wonder if getting drunk was the right thing to do.

It would take the pain away. And you needed that.

“You really think I don’t know he fucked up?” Wonwoo said, his voice hard.

You blinked, your eyes snapping to his face.

But he continued, taking another step towards you. “You think I don’t see it? You didn’t deserve any of it,” he said, his voice raw, and there was an edge to it that you couldn’t understand. “Not from him. Not from anyone.”

You swallowed your tears, your heart thumping so hard that it was starting to hurt in your chest. “You don’t know me,” you whispered.

Wonwoo didn’t skip a beat. “I know enough.”

Perplexion hit you, and part of you wanted to pause and listen to what he was saying. The look of pity painting the features of his face made you think that you were probably looking more broken apart than you had initially imagined.

But before you could stop yourself, you huffed a laugh, letting your tears go. “And what happens when you get to know me more?” you snapped. “You’ll leave like the rest of them.”

The features of his face contracted slightly, your words hitting somewhere he wasn’t letting show. “You don’t know that—”

“Save it,” you cut in, but the sharpness in your voice had lost its edge. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like—” your voice broke, and you blinked away from his gaze. “—to never be enough. To love someone and then watch them walk away to someone new.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t turn this on me,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “Don’t tell me I don’t get it.”

“Then why do you have that look on your face?!” you shot back, wiping the tears with the back of your hand.

He ran a hand over his mouth, as though trying to smooth out the quiet rage that you had sparked. “You really think I don’t care,” he spat, the snappiness of his words making you flinch. He took another step, so close to you now that you could sense the storm shaking inside him. “You still think that I'm an asshole.”

Your breath hitched, making your brain swim inside your head. You were sure that it was the alcohol starting to take effect.

But you were also not equipped to hear this. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want to feel this. Not now.

But it was too late. You had fractured the only thing that held Wonwoo’s composure. It was then that you saw him. His hair was ruffled, wet with the few droplets of rain he had caught on the way here. His glasses had slipped down the perfect bridge of his nose. He looked messy, angry, and out of control.

He pointed at his chest. “You think I like sitting on the sidelines?” he said darkly. He never raised his voice at you, but he was breathing hard. “You think I like to watch you like this over the people who hurt you?”

You froze, your heart stammering painfully against your chest. His words had hit you like a slap. “W-what?” you breathed, so shocked that you had stopped crying.

His breathing turned ragged, he looked torn. Like he was trying with everything in him to stop himself. Every inch of him trembled with the force of what he wasn’t supposed to say to you.

“You’re not a second choice.” He rasped, letting out a short sigh through his nose. It was done now. Too late to take it back.

His words stunned you. You should’ve reacted quicker, were it not for the feeling making your heart flutter. “Wonwoo—” you pleaded, but you didn’t realize that your body was moving. Moving towards him.

His hands grabbed your face, his fingers burying themselves in your wet hair, just as your hands found the front of his jacket.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was messy. Desperate. The kind of kiss that neither you nor he wanted, you could feel it in him. His lips captured yours with a vehemence that overpowered you completely. But your hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him down into you like you needed him to breathe.

And Wonwoo kissed you back. He kissed you like he waited for so long to do that, his tongue brushed against your lip as he rolled it inside your mouth, tasting the alcohol in your tongue. He breathed out softly when he heard the broken moan he got out of you, and stopped.

You broke apart, panting. Wonwoo pressed his forehead against yours, and you realized as he dropped his hands from your face that he was shaking.

“I.. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy, low. He sounded lost. “I didn’t mean to, but...”

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice breaking.

But neither of you pulled away.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes. You wanted to cry. The very feeling that had made your heart flutter went wild, beating against your chest. You wanted to get rid of it—you wanted to rip your own heart out.

Slowly, Wonwoo peeled off your body, lifting his forehead from yours. You stepped back, your hands falling at your sides.

And with one deep breath, you raised your gaze to his face.

You had to put a hand on the counter for support. Your head started to swim with a remorseful pain. You knew this was wrong, but didn’t exactly know why. “Wonwoo—” you said, unable to raise your voice any higher.

“I should go,” he cut in, as though the weight of what he had done just caught up with him. “This was wrong. I shouldn’t have come here.”

But Wonwoo looked torn. His face was painted in sick worry, his eyebrows were drawn, his mouth slightly twisted. Somehow, his words cut you deeper. You nodded, agreeing with him, but it cost you to breathe normally.

However, he did not attempt to move. His eyes read your face, and his gaze softened when he saw your eyes brim with tears again.

“I understand,” you whispered, bringing your fingers to cover your mouth to hold in your sobs.

Except that you couldn’t understand. Not really. You couldn’t understand why kissing you was such a bad thing. Mingyu left you.

And you were always the one who made it easier for everyone to go.

You could feel Wonwoo’s scrutiny on you. The way he silently absorbed every emotion showing on your face. Your face tickled with shame, the sensation spreading and lingering all over you. You shrank under his gaze.

The rain pattered lightly on the windows, the quiet, distant lightning illuminated the room for a second. But the space between you was heavy with everything neither of you wanted to say, despite it being obvious.

You had crossed a line you wouldn’t be able to come back from.  

“I-I’ll walk you to the door,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence.

Then, you motioned to the door, walking past him in your tiny kitchen. Your shoulder brushed against his arm, feeling the way he moved towards you, his hand catching yours in one second.

You snapped your gaze to him, having no time to move or to stop him.

There was something in his eyes when you exchanged a short glance with him. He paused, but only to make sure that you wouldn’t back away.

Wonwoo kissed you again—this time more certain. There was no fumbling, no scrambling to get the kiss done in a rush. You closed your eyes, your hand searching for his wrist as he held your face, kissing you deeper.

His other hand found your waist, grabbing you to pull you into him. You could feel the warmth coming from his body, the way it seemed that he was still shaking, but it felt different this time. Like the quick beating of his heart wasn’t out of anxiousness of kissing you, but from finally doing it because he wanted to.

When you broke apart, both of you were panting, but Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you. His lips brushed against your lower lip, giving you tiny, but feathery kisses that trailed to the corner of your mouth and to your cheek.

You could feel his quick breathing brushing against your skin, making it prickle. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your wet hair.

“This is wrong,” he repeated with a whisper, but now there was an air of finality in his tone. “But I want it.”

Your eyes fluttered closed again. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine. “W-what—I don’t understand, you said—”

“I wish I had answers right now,” he said, pulling back softly from you. He gave you a solemn look, his glinting eyes searching yours, searching for reasons to pull away from you, from this. “But I don’t think I can pretend any longer.”

“What?” you breathed warily, your heart skipping a beat.

He shook his head softly. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, taking a tiny step towards you. “I know that this is a lot for you right now. And I don’t have issues with stepping back, if that’s what you want.”

Everything inside you raged. It was a split-second of realizing that everything was upside down, everything was wrong. No matter what you felt, no matter how hard you tried, there was always something in the way.

And this time, your broken heart was the thing in the way.

“You deserve better,” you whispered. It slipped out before you could even stop yourself. You sounded raw and vulnerable.

His face shifted, his eyebrows knitted softly, his eyes reading your expression. “But I want you,” he said.

His words were like a thousand bricks falling on you. Everything that he told you came crashing down—about him being tired of being sidelined, of watching you torn apart for other people.

“I’m broken,” you whispered, and you wished to sound less angry about it, but there was an undeniable venom coating your words.

His fingers clenched your waist, resting his forehead against yours. “And I still want you all the same.”

You went still while your mind reeled with all the possible consequences that this might bring to your life. You were a mess.

“This is not a good idea,” you finally whispered. You were giving him all the reasons to walk away, to choose for himself before he let himself get involved with you.

His breath hitched slightly. “I know.”

You stepped back, but not far. You just wanted to look into his eyes, to get a read on what he so jealously protected with his mask. “Please…” you started, trying to select your words carefully, but your mind was swimming. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

One poison draws out another. Wonwoo remembered his friend’s words carefully.

His brows narrowed. “Don’t worry about me,” he whispered. And you realized that his hands had stopped shaking, but you knew he was still nervous about holding you this close.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to list out all of the reasons why you were not good for him.

But, God, you were lonely. And angry.

Wonwoo saw the quiet determination settling on the features of your face, making him step closer to hold you tightly to his body. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, one last confirmation before crossing that line, permanently.

Your head was swimming, but the determination weighed heavily in your heart. “I am,” you nodded. Then you slipped a hand on his nape, pulling him into a kiss just as he leaned towards you.

He circled your neck with one hand, holding you to kiss you fully, deeply. His lips fit with yours perfectly, moving seamlessly in a passionate way. This kiss was different, it was burdened with a heat that made you suspect he wanted to kiss you for a long time, but couldn’t.

This was wrong, but it felt so good.

And now, neither of you could stop. 

It soon dawned on you that Wonwoo wasn’t stopping either. A wave of need and arousal rose within you, wrapped with a bitterness that you should’ve stopped to pay attention to.

Your hands skirted over the pads of his jacket, starting to peel it off. He helped you, shrugging off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you, and he did this with such force that you thought you could break.

Because that’s what you wanted. You wanted to be bad, to give in to the sticky feeling spreading inside your chest.

Neither of you stopped to talk, it was clear where the moment was leading down to.

Your movements were rushed, as though if you paused for longer than a second, you might start to regret this. You took his t-shirt off, messing up his glasses in the process.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly, fixing his glasses back up. As he looked at you, there was an undeniable feeling that made your heart stutter.

You took his hand, staggering towards your bed, but Wonwoo pulled your body in before you could make it, quickly grabbing your hoodie to strip it off your body.

The hesitation, prudence, and any morsel of sanity that was holding you back evaporated. You fully gave in to the craving inside you once your clothes started to drop on the floor.

Wonwoo grabbed you by your bare waist, pulling you closer to his body to kiss you again. His hands roved all over your back, finding the clasp of your bra to undo it.

It happened fast, one by one, both of your clothes were discarded in between rushed kisses. None of you spoke a word, and you were thankful for that.

“Sit on the bed,” Wonwoo said with a rasp, his hands leaving your waist.

You obeyed without a second thought, sitting on the foot of your bed. Wonwoo pressed a knee on the edge of the bed, leaning over you and pushing you to lie back. His arms towered next to your shoulders, serving for support as he pressed his bare chest against yours.

He watched you for one long second, his gaze dark and lascivious. His hand returned to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip softly. “Stop me if you don’t want any of it,” he said.

“Wonwoo.” You called, feeling like you might just pass out from the wanton need brimming inside you.

“Mmn?” he raised his brows, his eyes studying your face.

You grabbed his face, holding his gaze. “Fuck me,” you whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “How?” he replied.

“Just do it,” you said. But then, swallowing hard, you reconsidered. “Fuck me hard.”

 He showed you a grin. It looked wicked, almost feline. But before he could explain where the smile was coming from, he was leaning again, brushing his lips against yours slowly, lightly. “Dirty girl,” he whispered into your mouth, kissing it softly.

A low, breathy moan escaped you at the sound of those words. “Please,” you begged, your lips still brushing against his.

You didn’t have to ask twice. Wonwoo kissed you deeply, removing his hand from your chin to find your waist. He sank down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck, then down to your chest.

His wet lips on your skin awoke something within you. It had been so long since you felt something at all that your skin was already prickling at the slightest touch. He kissed your chest, his hands cupping your tits, pushing them to make them bulge. He planted soft, slow kisses around your nipples, pulling out his tongue to glide it on your areolas.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hands cupping the back of his head.

His lips wrapped around one of your perked nipples, tugging at it lightly as his thumb teased your other nipple, brushing his pad against it. He hummed lightly, giving your breasts a couple of open-mouthed kisses before he continued exploring your body further down.

Your head was spinning, and you had to force yourself to close your eyes. The sight of him getting down on his knees before the bed was so arousing to you that you shuddered from it.

He gently nudged your thighs apart, propping them on his shoulders as he leaned against your body to press his lips on your inner thighs. He taunted you with kisses, bringing out sweet moans from you as he came closer and closer to your dripping wet pussy.

“Please,” you whispered, feeling his breath fanning against your skin, the tip of his tongue brushing before he pressed another kiss on your inner thigh.

That was all he needed. His mouth was on you, licking you, tasting you. You arched your back off the mattress, your hands balling into fists around the covers. The first brush of his tongue against your folds made your whole body come to life.

You moaned loudly, closing your eyes so hard you saw stars. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” you cried out, already panting for air, making yourself dizzier.

He forced your thighs open, burying his mouth on your pussy like he had something to prove. He didn’t do the bare minimum, no. He licked every single inch of your cunt, exploring it with his tongue, and repeating the things that brought the loudest moans from you.

So he quickly realized that teasing your clit was the way to go. He wrapped his lips around your clit, pressing his tongue on it before starting to flick it from side to side.

You didn’t know what to do, between grabbing his hair or holding onto the covers, you felt like you were about to pass out from pleasure. Your head was spinning, your whole body tingling with your orgasm.

His fingers slid between your folds, finding your pooling entrance. The first slide of his fingers into you tipped you over the edge, tearing a loud, raspy moan from your chest. You went rigid, letting the fiery waves of your orgasm consume you wholly, making you whine and moan pathetically.

His fingers massaged into you, bringing out lewd, wet sounds from out of your cunt. He was now giving slow, thorough kisses, drinking in your arousal, moaning with you.

“Wonwoo…” you called weakly, brushing his hair back with tired fingers.

You were more than ready for him now.

So you sat up, trying to push him back so you could finish undressing him.

Wonwoo understood what you wanted without having to speak up. He rose to his feet, and your tummy twisted when you caught sight of his dishevelled form. His hair was ruffled, and his glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. There was a glistening wetness on his chin.

Your thumbs fumbled to take his boxers off, tugging at the waistband clumsily. You raised your gaze, finding his eyes before you pushed the last piece of clothing he wore down.

A sudden rush invaded you. There was no going back now. And you wanted this, you needed this.

You swallowed hard, revelling at the sight of his naked body. Wonwoo was lean, the muscles of his abdomen were well-defined, dipping between his bulging pectorals. His shoulders were wide, and his biceps were toned.

There was a soft, dark trail of hair from his belly button, which you followed down with your gaze. Your breath hitched. He was huge—not that girthy—but the length of it almost made you doubt whether it would fit inside you.

“You’re very sexy,” you stammered, looking away in shyness.

But he used a hand to cup your chin, tipping your head back so he could meet your gaze. “You’re very sexy too,” he said.

You gave him a small smile, grabbing his hand as you lay back on the bed. Wonwoo followed you, his body towering over yours.

He pushed one of your thighs with his knee, crawling on top of you and framing your head with his arms. His lips trapped yours in a feathery kiss, smearing your arousal on your chin.

He tensed, his breath hitching when you wrapped your fingers around his hard cock. “Do you have condoms?” he whispered.

“Mm-mmn,” you shook your head, rolling your hand all over him.

You lifted your knees to your chest, gliding the tip of his cock between your folds.

“Raw?” he breathed, still giving you sweet kisses.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

“Words, baby,” he said with a rasp, pulling away to look at your face. “Use them.”

You blinked at him slowly, not hiding the lust that was threatening to consume you whole. “Fuck me raw,” you pleaded.

Your words had an effect on him; his gaze darkened. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, driving them above your head and pinning them there. He notched his cock on your entrance, and that was the only warning he gave you before sinking inside you.

Your mouth dropped open, a silent gasp coming out of him as Wonwoo pushed his cock inside you, looking into your eyes, grabbing every detail, every reaction showing on your face.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, letting out a breath through his nose once he sheathed himself completely in your walls. “Fuck,” he whispered. And that might’ve been the first time you heard him cuss like that.

You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe. He released your hands, and you found his shoulders, your fingers shaking slightly against his skin.

Wonwoo trapped your lips with his, kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth. Slowly, you felt your body relaxing, your walls fluttering and easing around him. You moaned into the kiss, just as he pulled his hips back slowly, making you feel every raw inch of his long dick.

You whimpered slightly as he pushed into you, still slow but deeper this time, his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

He slipped a hand beneath your head, his fingers curling around your hair. “You okay?” Wonwoo whispered, his lips lingering on yours slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, breathing fitfully. 

It was the only confirmation he needed before he drove into you, picking up a pace. Panting, he gave you a quick kiss on your lips before he started plowing on you.

He started fucking you hard, fast. As though the anger from the argument he had with you returned and he wanted to fuck the steam out of his system. His thrusts became rougher, calculated, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you whimpered, your mind going blank. “Please, please, don’t stop,” you were begging again, losing control. Pleasure started to build inside you again, and you were afraid that the alcohol you had consumed before was also pushing you closer to your second orgasm.

Wonwoo was panting, his breath brushing against your cheek before he kissed it. “Cum for me, baby,” he muttered darkly.

It was maddening to think that the shy, quiet and reserved guy could talk to you like that. Let alone, fuck you like that. And he was not slowing down, his thrusts were brutal, pushing his cock deeper each time.

You didn’t have the space to breathe, nor to give him any warning. You could only give him a couple of sharp gasps right before you orgasmed again. You cried out, the sound whiny, raspy, while your orgasm rippled through you.

Wonwoo groaned, feeling your pussy clamp tightly around his cock. Burying his face on the crook of your neck, you felt his laboured breaths, right before his lips latched onto your skin, sucking a lovebite into it.

“Fuck—Wonwoo,” you gasped. Unable to do anything else but give in to the sweet rapture.

Wonwoo heard you, peeling off your neck to kiss your lips swiftly. “Where do you want me?” he asked with a strangled tone.

You could feel your walls flutter around him at the sound of his words. You considered it for half a second, but then— “Inside,” you whispered. “Cum inside me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He grunted, leaning to press his forehead against yours. His fist tightened around your hair, just as his strokes became harder, and deeper, fucking his cum into you.

Wonwoo was panting tiredly as he dropped his face on the crook of your neck again.

You stared into the void, wrapping your arms around him, realizing that you body was shaking.

Slowly, as though coming to his senses, Wonwoo peeled off your body, but just barely. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. His glasses were slightly fogged, which he fixed with one hand. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head on your pillow.

Wonwoo’s brows knitted softly.

“I’m okay,” you replied, realizing your voice was hoarse, you swallowed. “I promise.”

He was still breathing hard, so he just smiled tiredly at you. He sat back on his haunches, gently pulling out of you. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You blinked at him dumbly.

He pointed with his finger to one side of his neck. “I did that,” he put in meekly.

You instantly brought a hand to your neck, right on the spot that was tingling and hot. “It’s okay,” you sighed.

Wonwoo paused, making sure that you were indeed alright. “Want me to bring you something to clean up?”

“No, I’ll just take care of it in the bathroom,” you said, rolling over on your bed. Once you stood on your feet, the whole room spun around you, making you giggle.

“Careful,” he said, springing into action. He rose from the bed, stretching an arm toward you to keep you from stumbling to the ground.

“I’m okay,” you said. Staggering to the bathroom, you got to see the red spot right on the curve of your neck.

But you couldn’t care less.

After weeks, you could finally feel something again. Something other than the fucking misery that seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

Part of you wondered when the moment would be to start feeling bad about this. But you realized that you were too tired to feel remorseful about fucking Mingyu’s best friend.

You’d feel dirty tomorrow.

Wonwoo’s phone buzzed somewhere on the floor. It was buried in the scattered clothes, beneath his jeans. He picked it up, his heart jolting nervously when he read Mingyu’s name on the screen.

“crashing late?” read Mingyu’s text.

Wonwoo chewed on his lower lip. “yeah, sorry, something came up” he replied.

You were back in the room, rummaging in your drawers, looking for a t-shirt to cover your bare body.

You didn’t notice the worry flashing across Wonwoo’s face. “Hey,” you called softly.

Wonwoo was already looking at you, thinking of what to do. “Hey,” he mumbled, giving you a tiny but sweet smile.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you asked meekly, realizing that your request might be too much, you added. “I don’t want to be alone,” you added with a note of sincerity.

The tight feeling trapping his heart eased. “Of course,” Wonwoo replied, locking his phone before climbing onto the spot next to you on the bed.

As you lay back, you sent him a fleeting glance, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo smiled when he saw the hesitation in your demeanor. “Come here,” he whispered, motioning you closer to him.

You gave him a light smile. “Okay,” you whispered, deciding to scoot closer to his body.

“We can cuddle, if that’s what you want,” he said with a knowing smile, despite the shyness he was exuding.

You let out a guilty giggle, realizing that you were subconsciously expecting aftercare with him. And Wonwoo was more than willing to give you just that.

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled shyly.

“We just had sex, and you think I’ll consider cuddling weird?” he laughed.

“Just… shut up,” you sighed.

He didn’t reply, just watched you as you moved towards him beneath the covers. You rested your head on his chest, just as he wrapped an arm around you, hugging you comfortably to his frame.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice like velvet against your senses.

You tilted your head back, glancing at his face. “Yes,” you replied. “This is nice,” you told him, turning your head again to nuzzle against his warmth.

Wonwoo wrapped a hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Rest up,” he whispered gently, kissing your brow.

But you were already dozing off, only being able to reply with a sweet hum before you were completely gone.

Wonwoo waited until the rhythm of your breathing deepened to raise his phone, unlocking it to read Mingyu’s last messages.

“I regret everything,” the first message read.

And then the last two read,

“I want to fix it.

But I don’t know how.”

☾ author's note: alexa, play bittersweet

this author's note is to once again, thank you for your support! the feedback i got from the previous chapter. i was amazed by the amount of comments and asks that i got! 🥺 i still can't believe the amount of people who commented, reblogged and came to my inbox to say something! i love you all!

this post has been in my drafts since january 2024 🫥 and since i posted the previous part of this series, a lot, and i do mean a lot of you guys came to me with questions about whether or not i had something planned for our wonwoo. i didn't want to give too much away because it would've ruined what i had planned.

well, this is how wonwoo is going to debut in his own series; in the wicked games series.

fun, right? 🙂

same as always, y'all know the drill. if you have something to say, comment it down below, share your opinions anonymously, reblog, like this post, share it with your grandma 🙂

yell at me, if that's what you want but keep it civil :D

i love you, thank you for reading!

toodles

☆ READ PART VI! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[ggidolsmuts]

AirGnG - ITZY Yeji, Red Velvet Seulgi

"Ah this is a nice neighborhood!" Yeji exclaims.

"Yeah, quiet too. You should be able to go out and about without being disturbed," her manager says. "Here you go, behave and show up on time okay?"

"Yes I will, thank you unnie!" Her manager had helped her argue her case for staying by herself, giving both of them a little more freedom to enjoy the little European village near their filming site.

"You have my number, the international one?"

"Yes yes I do."

"Okay okay, I'll stop nagging, get comfortable."

"Thank you unnie, have a good night!" Yeji waves goodbye cheerily and pulls her luggage up to the apartment. She coos as the door swings open—it's cozy and lived in, warm colors, everything she pictured in her mind's eye. Yeji lugs her suitcase to the bedroom and begins unpacking, humming away happily. When she's done, Yeji kicks back on the couch and debates which restaurant she should try tonight. She's almost ready to go when there's a knock on the door, the owner maybe?

"Hello, thank you again for—"

"Yeji?"

"Seulgi unnie?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I could say the same for you!" The two of them hug first, but when Yeji sees Seulgi's luggage she really has to ask. "Why are you here?"

"I booked this place, I'm doing some filming in the area."

"Oh, me too, did they double book us?" The two of them sat down to call the owner.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Kang Seulgi, I arrived at my booking and there was already someone here."

"Really? That doesn't sound right, are you sure you have the right place?"

"Hello, this is Hwang Yeji, I booked with you too I believe, do you want me to call via the number I have?"

"No no, that won't be necessary, er... It looks like there's been a mistake."

"Yes, and what do you suggest?"

"I could, hmm, refund one of you, and you can get a hotel instead?"

"That'll be difficult I think—" Yeji starts.

"Unless you're willing to cover the cost of the hotel, not a chance on such short notice," Seulgi barks authoritatively.

"No hmm, that would be difficult yes. What if I gave you half-off on the stay and you share the place?"

"That might be—"

"No, 75% off for both of us, or I report you to the platform for fraud."

"Wait wait wait! No need to be hasty. 75% off is a lot though, I'd be making half the money off two people."

"You would be making all the money off one of us if you didn't double book us by 'mistake'." Seulgi's tone leaves no room on her opinion of their mistake.

"66% off?"

"75%."

"70%?"

"70%, and you cover all platform and cleaning fees."

"I— Fine, just please don't make a mess."

"No promises." Seulgi hangs up the phone before they get another word in. "Ugh, sorry, I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, I think so, we got the discount, and maybe I can find see if there's anything cheap and still save money—"

"No no, you're here first, I'll go find a place."

"No unnie!" Yeji's torn—naturally she wanted to stay here, it's so nice, but Seulgi's her unnie and her sunbae, surely she should let Seulgi stay here instead? "How about... We give it a try? Just stay here for a few days, and see if you're okay with it?"

"Are you sure, you'll be okay with that?"

"Yes! If you do find a good deal then let me know and I can move there instead."

"No no, if I find one I'll go, but thank you!" Seulgi grasps Yeji's hand warmly.

"O-Of course. I was going to get dinner, do you want to come along?"

"Sure, let me just unpack a little and we can go!" They enjoy a nice little dinner together, catching up and sharing the details of what they're here for. When they returned home though, it was time to have an awkward conversation.

"Sorry unnie, let me move my stuff and you can have the bedroom, I'll take the sofa."

"No no, let me take the couch!"

"I can't let you take the couch!" Yeji gasps, scandalized.

"Should we share then?" Seulgi suggests. "It's big enough for both of us."

"You want to do that?"

"I mean yeah, sure, I don't mind."

"I don't mind either."

"That's settled then, do you want the left side or right side?" Both of them settle in that night, facing away from each other to prevent any further awkwardness.

"Have a good night unnie."

"Good night Yeji."

The first few days are a little awkward, but as they spent more time together, Yeji and Seulgi grew closer, getting a little more comfortable with their intimate arrangement. They would explore the village together when there's a gap in their filming, hitting up the popular spots and taking pictures for each other. They'd greet each other warmly when either came back, and share the shots they took for their respective MVs.

"Ooh you look good here!"

"Thanks, I can't wait to see what you take today!"

"Thanks unnie!"

"One of the staff here recommended a nice wine cellar we could tour, do you want to come with me?"

"Oh really? Of course!"

"Great! Tomorrow? When do you finish filming tomorrow?"

"I think 5 pm? Let me check... Yes 5 pm."

"Okay, I'll book us for 6:30 then."

The next day Yeji's bouncing on her feet as she gets back early, 3:30 pm! She's humming to herself as she enters the apartment, wondering what Seulgi's up to. And then she hears it.

"Ahng..." A mewl, a moan, an un-idol like sound. The bedroom door is ajar, but there's no one in there? No, the sound comes from the bathroom, and Yeji doesn't need to see to know what's happening behind the closed door.

"Nngh, oh yes..." As Yeji gets closer she can hear the repeated rapid squelches, the solid slapping of Seulgi's hand between her legs filling Yeji's ears. Seulgi's moaning like no one's home, her voice wavering and quavering, modulated by the pleasure she feels, dampening and amplifying. Speaking of dampening, a rush of heat floods Yeji—she shouldn't be here, listening to this! Yet her feet refuse to move, her heart pounding as she listens to Seulgi reach a crescendo. The rhythmic sounds stop, a quick staccato of gasps and whimpers, and then Seulgi's deep breaths of air finally snap Yeji out of it: She needs to go, now.

Seulgi rush of dopamine is dashed against the sound she hears—the door closing? Was that— She quickly pulls on her pants and looks around.

"Yeji?" There's no answer. "Hello?" Nothing. Did she just mishear it? Seulgi looks around, making sure it wasn't a break-in either, and with frustratingly no closure she goes back to the bathroom to clean up. Right outside the apartment Yeji's heart is pounding after hearing Seulgi call her name. She squirms a little, trying to calm herself, willing the wetness between her legs to go away. She goes for a walk around the block, and then another, and then a third, before finally return back to the apartment.

"Seulgi unnie, I'm back early!" she announces herself loudly.

"Oh Yeji, you finished already?"

"Yes."

"Great, well, we have some time till the wine tour, so relax and we'll head out in a little bit."

"Sure, I'll go get changed." Yeji heads into the bedroom, taking off her soaked panties and wearing a new pair. With Seulgi not going anywhere, Yeji's not going to have any time to herself, so with a sigh she settles in the living room, whiling away time on her phone until it's time to go. The wine tour was good, but as far as Yeji's concerned, the most distracting thing was Seulgi becoming more and more clingy as she drank more wine, the tipsy and clumsy drunk in her revealing herself. She didn't really smell of alcohol, but Seulgi was very noticeably touching and holding herself close to Yeji, and Yeji could feel herself warming up with something more than wine.

"Ahh that was so good!" Seulgi sighs as she drags Yeji to the couch.

"Yeah it was good wine. Unnie!" Yeji gasps as Seulgi lies down on her lap, head nestled between her thighs.

"Just let me lie down for a while..." Seulgi mumbles, but her eyes snap open, nose crinkling as a scent washes over her. It was not unpleasant, familiar even, and it takes her alcohol-hampered mind a moment to process the scent molecules—arousal, Yeji's aroused, why? Her sluggish mind quickly switches into "sex" gear, and she puts two and two together.

"Yeji, your lipstick, it looks good on you, what brand is it?"

"Huh? I don't remember."

"Let me take a closer look." Seulgi sits up and scoots right up to Yeji, who freezes like a cat. She squeaks like a mouse as Seulgi holds her by the chin, coming ever closer.

"Really pretty."

"T-Thanks unnie." But Seulgi doesn't move away, her eyes still holding Yeji there even as her hand drops to Yeji's shoulder.

"I want to try it." Yeji's mind short-circuits as she feels Seulgi's lips pressed against hers, and the arousal she's been unable to release comes out as a moan when Seulgi sucks hard on her lower lip. "Tastes good, better than the wine."

"I- I, I..." Yeji's lying on the sofa, and Seulgi's on top of her, when did that happen?

"Yeji, what time did you get home today?"

"Hm? A-About 3:30 pm?"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"That's not when I heard you come back." Seulgi presses her thigh up between Yeji's legs, and Seulgi nearly goes mad—Yeji's dripping hot on her skin. The thought of Yeji overhearing her earlier makes her even hotter under the collar, she had to know. "Did you hear me when you came back?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about unnie," Yeji denies, but her thighs spread just that little bit more, allowing Seulgi to press even harder against her.

"Did you listen to me fuck myself in the bathroom?"

"A little, maybe..." Yeji shudders as hands land on her waist and begin moving upwards, and she couldn't decide if she wanted the hands under or over her top. "I left as soon as I heard you."

"Liar." Seulgi squeezes a breast, pushing up the bra cup roughly and feeling Yeji's stiff nipple beneath. "I heard a door close after I finished, after I came so hard on my dildo. Did you hear me cum hard?" Yeji shudders as Seulgi palms her hard nipple, and only manages a nod.

"Bad naughty baby girl..." Yeji holds her breath as Seulgi slips a hand under her top, touching her midriff directly. "And you haven't had a chance to cum since then have you? I could smell you just now. Oh you don't get to blush now, not after you listened to me and liked it." The button on her jeans pops open with a deft touch. "I want to see you cum hard."

"I-I only listened—"

"You could've watched too," Seulgi whispers in her ear, and the moan Yeji lets out is divine when two fingers dip under her panties and push into her. Seulgi's not fucking around, and Yeji's jeans have squirmed halfway down her thighs as Seulgi continues to finger her. She pulls Yeji's top up, holding the hem to her mouth.

"Bite down." Obediently Yeji does so—she could use her hands to hold them up, but her mind's only working well enough to do what Seulgi says. It's okay though, as her hands are grabbing on to Seulgi when her unnie begins kissing all across her chest, her bra simply pushed away like her walls are being pushed open right now.

"You look so hot right now, no wonder you have so many fans." But no fan would get to see this—Yeji's back is arched, pushing her tits into Seulgi's face as the fingers inside her never stop moving. The fingers inside her are well-practiced, as if she knows Yeji's body better than she knows herself, and all of her reluctance crumbles as she gets close to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm cumming!"

"Cum hard for your unnie!" At Seulgi's insistence Yeji comes undone, the firm pressure of Seulgi's curled fingers causing Yeji to trap her arm there as she soaks her second set of underwear in slick. Yeji can only gurgle as Seulgi plays with her body through the orgasm—pinches and pulls of her nipples, a soft breath on her neck, the added pressing on her clit the worst and best of it all.

"Hnngh!" Yeji twists away from the stimulation, almost spraining Seulgi's wrist as she cums a second time in quick succession, riding it out by leaking all over her own thighs, drunk on pleasure instead of wine. "Unnie..."

"Yes?" Seulgi's already working on her own jeans, eager to have her own peak, but no.

"I'm sleepy..." Yeji sighs, and she's out like a light. With a frustrated sigh of her own Seulgi carries Yeji to the bedroom, dressing her best she can before falling asleep next to her, wholly unsatisfied.

"Hmmmm..." Yeji sighs happily—she just had the best night of sleep on this trip so far, and she stretches comfortably like a purring cat. That is, until she looks up at the ceiling and realizes where she is, and the events of last night come flooding back—kissing Seulgi, then feeling her hands all over her own body, and then... inside her?! She looks under the sheets, and she's wearing a tiny pair of shorts and no underwear. Oh no, did that really happen last night? She didn't even drink that much!

"Damn it!" she buries her face in her hands. What now? She looks at the empty space next to her, and on the other side she sees a red dildo peeking out of Seulgi's suitcase. She really shouldn't, but Yeji's curiosity got the better of her, and she opens the suitcase and gasps. The dildo is long, far longer than anything Yeji has at home or even seen.

How can it even fit in her? Yet as she looks at it more closely she sees the flanged middle of the toy, and dizzily she realizes what it is.

"It's meant for two people!" she whispers to herself.

"Yes it is." Yeji almost jumps out of her skin at Seulgi's words.

"U-Unnie! I didn't mean to—"

"I know." Seulgi takes it from the suitcase and holds it out in front of Yeji. "You can touch it, it has been washed thoroughly." Yeji grips it, feeling the toy's hardness when she squeezes it.

"About yesterday, did we..."

"Have sex? No not really, I got you off, but that's about it, you fell asleep right after."

"Oh, what about you—" Yeji looks down at the toy in her hand.

"No, I'll deal with it later." Seulgi doesn't tell Yeji that she was going to use the toy now, but Yeji had somehow denied her again by waking up. "I have to go."

"Unnie I—"

"We can talk later." Yeji's left dumbfounded by Seulgi's curtness, but as she watches Seulgi's hips sway out the door, a conviction sets in—she's going to need to have a talk with her unnie. And Yeji prefers her talks to be like her choreo, hard and fast.

That's why Seulgi's a little bewildered when she comes home to a saccharine Yeji, hugging her and welcoming her back, complete with coffee and pastries from the nearby cafe on the table. She's a little less bewildered when she feels Yeji's hands slipping down the back of her jeans, squeezing her butt.

"Yeji, what are you doing?"

"I wanted to make it up to you unnie."

"You don't have to, if you're worried about me talking about what happened when we go back to Korea. We were both a little drunk, things happened, and we can keep it to last night. You don't have to make it up to me or anything." Seulgi's only partially telling the truth—having Yeji so close to her is making her wet, and she would very much like Yeji to "make it up to her", but only for the right reasons.

"Are you sure?"

No, of course not! Seulgi wants to shout, but all she manages is a nod. Yeji doesn't take her chance to leave though, no, she gets even closer, and a wild thought runs through Seulgi's mind—is Yeji the one trying to seduce her now?

"I think we should still have a talk though, right?" Yeji's whispering in her ear.

"We should, if you want."

"I do want." Seulgi's knees go weak when Yeji confirms that she is doing this for the 28 best reasons, her tongue grazing Seulgi's ear. "I like to let my tongue do the talking."

In a matter of seconds Seulgi's on the bed, delicious thighs wrapped around Yeji's head as the younger idol gives her unnie the tongue lashing of a lifetime for being so curt with her earlier that day. The only apology that Seulgi can offer is a liquid one, her juices spilling freely into Yeji's waiting mouth as all the frustration from last night leaks away.

"Right there, right there!" she whines as Yeji licks circles around her clit before giving it a mischievous kiss. "H-How are you so good?"

"I could say the same thing, your fingers were magical."

"I guess all that tutting training helped me," Seulgi jokes glibly.

"I bet, lots of experience. Would you remind me of last night, my memory's a little hazy, drunk too much I think." Yeji's already kicking off her underwear, and Seulgi is never a selfish lover. "Ah..." This time Yeji takes off her clothes, leaving her completely naked as she's fingered by Seulgi.

"God so hot..."

"I want to see you too, unnie." Seulgi ignores the fact that her clothes are going to be stained with Yeji's juices and pulls off her own outfit with slick-covered hands before letting Yeji strip the rest. They end up head to toe from one another, and with her head dizzy from feeling Yeji's tongue back on her slit Seulgi brings her fingers to Yeji's pussy. Finally the two of them are pleasuring each other together, doing what they're best at with fingers and tongues.

"U-Unnie!" Yeji squeals when Seulgi curls her fingers, allowing Yeji to remember the buzzing pleasure she felt last night. She can't make much sound though as Seulgi's thighs close around her head for a second time, and Seulgi's hips buck forcefully into Yeji's mouth.

"Oh— Mmf, fuck!" Seulgi's the one who can exclaim as she cums, but that's quickly scuppered as she sputters from Yeji squirting hard, fluids going from one orgasming hole to another. Yeji's moaning into Seulgi's pussy, thighs trapping her there so that the only thing she can do is shake and vibrate between Seulgi's legs. By the time both of them are done it's hard to say who had the worst of it—Seulgi coughing and spitting, her jaw slick and shiny, or Yeji red-faced and gasping for air, a shiny face mask splattered all over her courtesy of Seulgi. They laugh shyly at each other as they clean up, and with finally all of their makeup gone, there's no holding back from what they're both wanting.

"Show me how to use the dildo unnie." Yeji grabs the hard red toy, handing it over to Seulgi.

"Okay, I'll put it in you first." Yeji groans as she feels herself get slowly stuffed, watching the "hilt" of the toy get closer and closer to her, before stopping a little bit short.

"D-Deeper, please. Please unnie." Upon hearing her needy, hungry, vulnerable tone Seulgi's so tempted to just shove the last inch, no, the whole damn thing into Yeji, but she resists her own temptations, knowing what would give both of them a good time.

"Soon." She holds the dildo, fingers almost touching Yeji, and with practiced motions she eases herself on to it. Seulgi lifts her legs over Yeji's spread thighs, and quickly she's closing the distance to Yeji. "Now you can use your hand—" She grips the toy, pushing it deeper into Yeji.

"Unnie!" Yeji gasps at the deep reach of the toy, and when Seulgi pulls the dildo back Yeji can see her own slick on the dildo, staining her unnie's possession.

"Or you can push yourself on to it." Seulgi bucks her hips, and Yeji's eyes are wide open as she watches Seulgi take it to the hilt smoothly. "Hnngh fuck that's good." The next time she does it, Seulgi does it with such force that she's pushing Yeji's side of the dildo and making her moan.

"Ahh! F-Fuck me unnie, fuck me!" Seulgi grabs the dildo and begins tugging it back and forth, fucking herself and Yeji at the same time. But it's harder than doing it alone—Seulgi can feel the resistance when she tries to push it into Yeji, her loud moans giving Seulgi a very good idea of just how tight Yeji is.

"Use your hips, push it against me!" Yeji's glassy eyes watch the hypnotic waist movements of her unnie before copying them, moaning and realizing just how good it feels. The two of them ride the dildo together, trying to get themselves off and getting each other off in the process. Seulgi's wordlessly moaning now, chasing her own peak—normally she would have a hand on the toy, shoving it into herself like Yeji overheard in the bathroom; This time it's not needed though, as the sight in front of her is more than enough stimulation—Yeji's lithe body undulating, eyes closed in concentrated pleasure and mouth hanging open in slack bliss. Seulgi can feel Yeji's skin against her own, their thighs rubbing against one another as both of them squirm and buck.

At some point Yeji's arms buckle, and she's lying on the bed, squirming and gasping as she tries to get herself where she needs to go. Her hands go to her pussy and—

"Ohhh YES!" Seulgi is treated to the sight of Yeji's chest rising suddenly as she cums, groaning and moaning as she rubs her clit furiously, drenching the dildo in her juices. 

"Nngh oh god Yeji!" The sight is enough to push, pull, and drag Seulgi over the edge all at the same time, and with an undignified groan she's staining Yeji with her slick of her own, hilting herself as deep as she can on the dildo and clenching around it as the orgasm violently takes her. The two women thrash and twitch and tremble on the bed as they sweat and squirt and leak all over it.

With some difficulty Seulgi manages to untangle herself from Yeji and remove the dildo from both of them, and Yeji manages to drag herself towards Seulgi, leaning into her unnie's embrace.

"That was hot," Yeji whispers. "We won't be able to do this in Korea, would we unnie?"

"Most likely not, too many eyes on us there."

"We should make the most of our time here then, right?"

"Yeah— Yeji?" Seulgi gasps as she feels Yeji's warm breath on her chest, and moving lower.

"I'm hungry."

They truly make the most of their time left in Europe, and by the end of their trip there isn't a surface or wall that Seulgi hasn't pushed Yeji against and fingered, and there isn't a floor tile in the apartment that Yeji hasn't dropped to her knees and eaten Seulgi out on. The apartment reeks of sex, and the bed is completely ruined by their mixed fluids, all because the owner got greedy and double booked them. They spend their last night together, legs criss-crossed, the dildo buried to the hilt in both of them, close as close can be. Yeji has her arms flung around Seulgi's neck, whimpering and whining as her clit is thumbed and rubbed.

"Unnie, unnie!" Yeji's crying out as she cums, and Seulgi's moaning softly with her—Yeji's walls grip the toy hard, making it vibrate inside Seulgi as well while she rides out her own orgasm. It starts as a rumble, and Seulgi feels herself getting to the edge too—she just needed to wait for Yeji to finish her off.

"I'm yours..." Seulgi is not left waiting for long, and the rumble becomes an avalanche when she hears those words. She's pushing against the dildo hard, imagining herself driving hard into Yeji.

"S-Say it again Yeji."

"I'm yours." Yeji moves off the toy, and grabbing it firmly she shoves it into Seulgi, over and over. "I want to make you feel good too Seulgi unnie."

"You are, you are!" Yeji winces as her neck gets marked by Seulgi, a passionate bruise that she'll need to cover up before flying back. Seulgi cums with a muffled cry as she pushes against Yeji's thrusts, and she doesn't stop there.

"Yeji don't stop, keep going, keep making me cum!" The squelches keep getting louder and louder as Yeji pushes the toy through Seulgi's clenching walls, watching her abandon all reason and hump Yeji's hand until her abs can't stop twitching and Yeji's arm is cramping up. Everything is sticky and shiny from Seulgi's multiple peaks, and as she watches Yeji clean it all up with her mouth—dildo, fingers, and Seulgi herself, she can't help but think.

This can't be the last time we do this.

"Seulgi unnie!" Back in Korea Yeji greets her unnie with a bow and a big hug.

"Oh Yeji, it's good to see you!"

"I was wondering if you could film a challenge with me?"

"Of course!" Under the eyes of their watchful managers they dutifully finish filming dance challenges for each of their songs, and as the managers start to depart ahead of them, Seulgi pulls Yeji in for a goodbye hug.

"Yeji, I started a beginner course for martial arts, and I was wondering if you wanted to try it with me sometime?"

"Martial arts?" Yeji wonders aloud, and Seulgi needs to only whisper one word in her ear.

"Nunchucks."

"Count me in."

A/N: Kinda a parallel piece to the AirBnB one, the dynamics here didn't quite fit what I was going for in that story, so I kept most of the setup and just changed up the smut. I know some prefer F/F over M/F, so maybe this is more enjoyable for some lol, either way thanks for reading!

[wheeboo]

off the record | kim mingyu {part two}

SYNOPSIS. Kim Mingyu lives a double life. On one end, he’s the perfectly charming yet clumsy coworker at the Daily Planet. On the other, he’s saving the world. But when you��a guarded yet sharp-witted journalist–are paired up with him on solving a mysterious case of kryptonite trafficking, Mingyu finds it harder and harder to keep his secret at bay. And falling for you only makes it worse, when he’s only given two choices: protect his identity, or risk everything by letting you in.  PAIRING. superman!kim mingyu x journalist!fem!reader (ft. editor-in-chief!seungcheol, photojournalist!wonwoo, editor!minghao, barista!seulgi) GENRE. superman au, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humour, slow burn, suggestive WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive themes (kissing, making out, lil grinding, vague nudity, implied sex, shirtless mingyu ofc), violence, blood, illegal crimes (kryptonite trafficking, robbery, theft, hijacking, bombing, kidnapping), drinking, mention of tobacco, mingyu has hella plot armour, idk how to write a whole crime case for the life of me i was struggling w that whole part so it prob makes no sense lol WORD COUNT. 18.2k (for part two); 43k (in total)

notes: welcome to the final part of off the record!! honestly after rereading this fic a million times i swear there are plot holes and parts i could do better on. but hey, i've never written an action-crime fic like this before so i had fun writing with all the knowledge i had and wtv my pea brain could handle heh. if you've read this far, i hope you've enjoyed 🫶 once again, pls do reblog or comment/send an ask i would love to know your thoughts!

part one | part two

Mingyu finds himself clumsily stumbling through the doors of the Daily Planet. He’s ten minutes late than he was supposed to clock in. One of the buttons on his shirt is unknowingly misaligned, though he covers it up with his jacket. He brushes through his windswept hair, adjusts his crooked tie, and itches a tiny spot at his nose before fixing the glasses on his face while speed-walking through the lobby. 

There was an attempted robbery at one of the local laundromats this morning. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad𑁋just a bunch of high school teenagers attempting to snoop through the laundry machines and steal the coins. Mingyu had handled it quickly, gently scolding the teenagers then reprimanding them, and flying them straight to the nearest police station. But it still cost him precious time, as he barely was able to finish his breakfast before being called in. 

Mingyu sighs under his breath, muttering an apology as he dodges a passing janitor and an intern jogging towards the ground floor coffee shop. His mind races ahead of him, knowing he was going to see you today. You’re probably already here, sipping on your cup of coffee that he should’ve probably gotten for you if he wasn’t late.

Warmth blooms in his chest at the thought of you briefly, but the fondness is quickly shoved away by guilt. He can’t help but think about your conversation with him the other night as he adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

Your words keep replaying over and over in his mind. You make it hard, you know, to stay detached. 

God, he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to stand in front of you𑁋not as Superman, but as Mingyu. As your dazed, cowardice coworker and science journalist who has always wanted to ask you out on a proper date but doesn’t have the guts to. 

It’s an odd situation, really. When he’s Superman, he has the confidence to kiss you, but when he’s Mingyu, he can barely look at you in the eyes for more than five seconds before feeling like he’ll spontaneously combust. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face as he nears the elevators. His steps quicken with determination. He dashes around the corner of the lobby𑁋

𑁋and crashes straight into another man. 

“Ah, sorry, sir!” Mingyu blurts out in apology, already reaching out a hand to steady the man before stumbling back himself. 

The man barely looks up from where he stands, clutching a sleek black briefcase at his side as he brushes off his dark coat, muttering something under his breath. He’s tall, seemingly close to Mingyu’s height, and his face is half-hidden by a black fedora.

The familiarity of the man hits Mingyu all at once. 

Mingyu feigns a guilty look. “Sorry again, sir. Is there anything I can𑁋”

And then it hits him. A wave of nausea slams into Mingyu’s gut.

He falters for a second, trying to control the way his knees nearly buckle beneath him. His vision swims for a second, his skin burning underneath his clothes, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead despite being in a completely air-conditioned lobby.

“You good, kid?” the man asks lowly, voice rough and gravelly; it even sends an uncomfortable shiver up Mingyu’s spine.

No.

He is not good. 

“Yeah, just…” He lets out a few fake coughs, clenching his jaw. “Skipped breakfast, little stomachache. Happens more often than you think.”

“Mm,” the man hums, and Mingyu swears he sees his lips curl underneath the shadow from his fedora. His stomach twists violently as his attention flits to the man’s briefcase momentarily, and there’s a faint, sickly green glow pulsing from its seams, so subtle no ordinary human eye could possibly notice. “Take care of yourself, kid.” 

Before Mingyu can say anything more, he watches as the man disappears within the bustling, crowded lobby. Then he finds himself leaning against the wall for support, breathing unsteady, feeling the poison dissipating from his bloodstream the farther the man walks away. 

Kryptonite. The word echoes through his mind as if he was cursed, leaving his limbs heavy and his thoughts spiraling. The pain is faint now𑁋whatever the hell was in that briefcase is out of proximity𑁋but that encounter was close. Too close. This wasn’t just some low level crook or common thief. It wasn’t an accident. It was intentional. 

And if it’s in the Daily Planet, it was meant for him. 

Mingyu forces himself upright, brushes away invisible dust on his clothes, and readjusts his crooked glasses. He can’t afford to make a scene. Not here. Not now.

Especially not when you’re here. 

He pastes on a smile when the elevator dings and he steps out onto the floor, yet it’s swift to fade as he breezes past passing colleagues trying to greet him and cubicles, scanning the room to find you. But he doesn’t see you, not even at your desk.

Panicking, he strides towards around the corner to where the conference room is, heart thudding, vision narrowed. 

Finally, he spots you through the glass of one of them. You’re seated near the end of the table surrounded by other journalists in your field, dressed in some semi-formal attire, jotting down notes on your notepad as a woman speaks at the front. You’re so focused, so in your element, completely unaware of the possible danger lingering inside the building. 

A wave of relief washes over him for a fleeting moment as he nears the door. He hesitates. He shouldn’t disturb you. You’d probably even try to kill him for interrupting a meeting like this. 

But he can’t shake the feeling crawling up his spine𑁋the warning courses through his veins, the way every nerve in his body is rigid with apprehension. The image of that briefcase and its poisonous glow flashes through his eyes. 

Without thinking, he knocks on the door, and it’s firm enough to turn a few heads in his direction. The woman at the front pauses mid-sentence. You look up as well, eyes widening and brows furrowing to the sight of Mingyu in the doorway. He gestures toward you with a subtle tilt of his head, mouthing something you can’t quite decipher from where you’re sitting. 

“Hi, um… Sorry to interrupt.” Mingyu pushes the door open a little more, trying to contain the urgency in his voice, shooting apologetic looks to everyone in the room. “Can I borrow Y/N for a second?”

You frown at him, glancing briefly at your other colleagues who are all mumbling amongst each other. “I𑁋Mingyu, can it wait? I’m in the middle of a𑁋”

“Please.” His lips part; for a brief second, his façade falters, and you catch something like worry in his eyes. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

Your shoulders tense instinctively, but you cover it up with a polite smile to the people beside you, mumbling apologies under your breath. You tuck your notepad under your arm and stuff your pen inside the pocket of your suit jacket and quietly excuse yourself from the meeting. 

Mingyu opens the door a little farther for you to step out, before closing it behind and reaching for your hand without a second thought. 

His fingers wrap around your hands with a kind of urgency you’ve never felt from him before, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. He drags you through the crowded newsroom and towards the entrance to the stairwell, the buzz of nearby conversations fading away. 

“Mingyu,” You breathe out the second the two of you stop. “You can’t just take me out of my meeting𑁋what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer at first. His hand still hasn’t let go of yours, and you catch the way his eyes seem to be darting around as if expecting someone𑁋or someone𑁋to appear around the corner any moment. His jaw tightens, and you swear if you listen hard enough, you might be able to hear his teeth grind. 

Mingyu swallows hard before looking down at you, his firm grip on your hand loosening slightly. 

“I… I just needed to see you,” he confesses, though you can tell he’s holding something back. 

Your breath hitches at his words. “What’s𑁋”

“You trust me, right?” he asks quietly, words fragile as if it’s going to break. 

Your lips part to speak, but the words take a few seconds to form. “I… Of course, I do.”

He exhales shakily at your words, something flickering over his eyes𑁋relief, perhaps. Or guilt. Or regret. But before you can dwell on it, before you can ask him what’s wrong, a shrill, piercing sound cuts thunderously through the air.

The alarm.

It blares overhead, bouncing off the walls, swallowing every other sound in its wake. Flashing red lights cloud your vision and illuminate the halls. You could only freeze in place, stomach sinking down to the ground, unable to move. 

“Attention, all personnel,” a calm, but firm voice speaks through the intercom system. “We have received a breach in security. Please remain calm and await further instruction. There has been a potential bomb threat reported in the building. All personnel are ordered to evacuate immediately. Emergency services are on their way. This is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill.”

You feel your blood run cold. Gasps and shouts erupt all across the newsroom. Chairs scrape against the floor. People around you are scrambling for their belongings and pouring out into the hallway. 

You whip your head back around to Mingyu. He’s grown paler, yet his grip on your hand only tightens, like he’s trying to anchor himself to you𑁋and maybe he is. Maybe you’re the only thing holding him together right now. 

“Mingyu,” You utter, panic creeping into your voice. “A bomb? Is this𑁋should we𑁋”

“We need to get out of here,” he interrupts, already pulling you toward the stairwell door. “Come on.”

You hastily stumble after him as he pushes the door open and leads you down the flights of stairs. You can hear the stampede of steps right behind you of people flooding their way through the stairwell, trying to get out as well. His steps are faster, more purposeful, but every few seconds he glances over his shoulder to check on you, making sure you’re keeping up. 

At the bottom of the stairs, the doors are wide open, people from all directions rushing outside, some shouting into phones, others helping each other along. The sirens of the emergency services grow deafening the second you and him burst outside. 

Mingyu pulls you a little farther away from the growing crowd, his hand still clasped around yours like he’s terrified to let go. His chest heaves unsteadily, gaze flicking wildly over the scene𑁋police cars, reporters scrambling to get footage, people crying or calling their loved ones on the phone. 

When he comes to a halt, he turns back to look at you. “Don’t move from here. Don’t follow me. Do you understand?”

“What?” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “No𑁋Mingyu, you are not fucking going back, I am not letting you𑁋”

“Promise me.” One of his hands finds your shoulder, gripping tight but not too harshly. The other reaches up to hesitantly cup your face, and for a brief moment, the chaos seems to fade away. “Please.” 

Your throat constricts, and you barely manage a nod. With that, you feel him pull away from you. There’s a small hint of hesitation as he doesn’t let his eyes leave yours. But then he purses his lips together and turns on his heel, running back into the crowd and disappearing behind all the rows of screaming police cars. 

Every instinct in you is fighting to follow him, a wobble in your step as you place one foot forward. 

But you promised him to stay, and so you do.

Mingyu rounds a corner and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He fumbles with the buttons to his shirt, tearing it open to reveal the unmistakable emblem hidden underneath. He kicks off his shoes and throws his glasses aside, shrugging off the rest of his clothes as his red cape flares out behind him like a banner. 

The building of the Daily Planet shrinks beneath him as he launches himself up into the air, letting his mind focus to narrow in on the threat. His eyes glow as he scans through the building’s interior, and then𑁋there. 

A soft, beep-beep-beep reverberates in his ear, coming from beneath the layers of concrete and steel. He forces himself to focus even more, his vision lasering through the walls of the building, until he sees it. 

17th floor. Administrative area. Armed men surrounding the bomb like vultures. 

With a singular breath, he dives down, merely a blur of red and blue to witnesses below as he crashes through the window, shattering glass exploding like diamonds. The force is enough to send a few of the armed men crashing down the ground before even realising what hit them.

In an instant, he feels the white-hot searing pain of kryptonite nearby enter his body, but he has to push through. He has to. 

Alarms wail in his ears as he lands on the floor with a thunderous impact. But he tunes them out, eyes narrowing to the sounds of weapons being drawn and commands being shouted from all kinds of directions𑁋but he’s faster, way too fast. 

Mingyu moves before any of them can properly aim. A sharp whoosh penetrates through the air with every punch, every tackle, every bullet that harmlessly ricochets off his chest and into the walls. He lifts one man into the air and flings him into a nearby desk with enough restraint to incapacitate, but not to kill. Another one tries to foolishly sprint at him with a knife, but fails miserably as Mingyu grabs him by the wrist, twisting hard enough to make the man yelp and the knife crumpling down to the floor. With a clean punch, he sends the man flying across the room. 

The click of a gun heightens Mingyu’s senses, and he turns around to lunge forward into another armed man aiming directly at him, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it like it’s made of tinfoil. A swift punch to the gut is enough to send the man buckling down to the ground before having any time to react. 

At the corner of his eye, Mingyu spots another one of the men attempting to escape through the stairwell. He dashes forward, slamming the man straight into the wall, watching as his unconscious body slumps down the stairs. 

When the last attacker is down and the room finally stills, Mingyu turns his attention back to the bomb. It sits perched on a standing desk, ominous and pulsing faintly with a green glow.

Kryptonite. 

A wave of nausea claws up his throat as he nears it. It’s still ticking down.

00:00:40.

00:00:39.

00:00:38…

He has no time.

As a groan bubbles deep in his chest, Mingyu reaches out and encases the bomb in his arms, sweltering pain crawling up his arm as he tightens a grip around the cold metal, but he doesn’t let go. 

“Shit, come on, come on…” he hisses through his teeth, his cape dragging against the floor below.

He bends his knees and tries to push off the ground, but he barely lifts off.

The kryptonite’s grip tightens around his chest like a suffocating weight. His flight sputters like a broken engine, lifting him only a few feet off the ground before his strength falters. He slams back onto the floor with a harsh grunt, sweat beading over his forehead. 

The clock keeps ticking down. He squeezes his eyes shut. Focus, focus, focus.

He won’t fail. He can’t. 

Mingyu forces himself upright again, wrapping both arms around the bomb. His muscles turns into knots under the strain, but he wills his body to rise, fighting to cover every agonising inch off the ground.

Then with a sudden burst of energy, he rockets through the ceiling, debris exploding through the air as his cape snaps behind him through the wind. He flies higher and higher, struggling to not succumb to the kryptonite’s poison crawling through his veins.

00:00:17.

00:00:16.

00:00:15…

He breaks through the clouds and rears close to the stratosphere, the city below him stretching like a blanket. The bomb feels heavier than the entire world itself. His chest tightens even more; black spots dancing through his vision. 

00:00:06.

00:00:05.

00:00:04…

With one final roar, Mingyu hurls the bomb out of his grasp and straight up into the sky with every last ounce of his strength he could muster. It sails upwards like a shooting star, and as the seconds dial to zero, it explodes in a brilliant, blinding supernova of green light far above the Earth that sends him barreling back to the ground, though he manages to catch himself mid-air, hovering for a few seconds to catch his breath.

Back on the ground, a sudden shockwave nearly has you slipping on your feet, rumbling the ground like distant thunder. Gasps ripple through the air as you and everyone else’s eyes peer up to the skies, the explosion illuminating the heavens above before being swallowed by the clouds. 

And then… silence. Peace. But it isn’t as comforting as you hoped for. 

You scan the crowd desperately, spotting coworkers hugging each other, cameras aimed at the skies with reporters frantically speaking. But there’s no sign of the face you’re looking for𑁋where the hell is Mingyu?

He promised you. He promised. 

Your feet take a few staggering steps forward, continuing to skim every face in your peripheral vision, yet you still don’t see any sight of him. Worry swarms through every limb in your body as you clench your fists at your side, ready to defy his word if it means finding him. 

But then, suddenly, a cloth clamps over your mouth from behind. 

Your scream is muffled as your body jerks backward, and whatever the hell is laced in the cloth immediately burns down your throat the second you inhale its bitter, chemical smell. You try to thrash your legs, wildly flail your arms, but then an arm grips around your torso, leaving your efforts to no avail. 

Your vision spins. The world starts to tilt. Your limbs begin to grow weak, sluggish, your strength slipping away. 

“Shh, shh,” a low voice whispers eerily in your ear. “Don’t make this harder, sweetheart.”

The last thing you see and hear before the darkness consumes you is the blurry outline of the crowd cheering and the streaking colour of red and blue crossing the sky. 

The first thing you feel is a pulsating throb against your skull. Your eyelids flutter open slowly, vision swimming in and out of focus, but the world around you is completely disorientating. 

Harsh fluorescent lights glare down on you from above, and the sharp smell of something faintly chemical, acrid, metallic fill your lungs. It feels like weights are holding down all your limbs, only for you to realise you’re completely bound up𑁋both legs and wrists.

You tug helplessly at the bindings, but they don’t budge. Cold metal cuffs bite uncomfortably into your skin, anchoring you to the chair you’re sitting on. Your heart pounds anxiously against your ribcage as your vision starts to finally sharpen𑁋and that’s when you realise where you are. Or where you think you are.

A warehouse. Or something like that. Grey, windowless walls surround you on every side, illuminated by the few flickering light bulbs above. Stacks of crates line the walls containing serial numbers you don’t recognise, but you could only guess the one thing that may be housed in there.

Kryptonite. 

Dread gnaws at your core.

Somewhere, a low snicker taunts you from the shadows. 

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”

You flinch as footsteps start to approach, a pair of heavy boots pounding against the concrete. Slowly, a man steps into your view𑁋middle-aged, a black fedora on his head, a jagged scar running from his temple and down to his jaw. A pistol is grasped in his hand, but what chills you more is the cutthroat glint to his eyes. Behind him stood a few men, rifles casually slung over their shoulders, their faces covered with masks. 

“Comfortable?” He crouches down to your level, close enough you literally taste the pungent smell of tobacco off him. “Apologies for the rude awakening, darling. Was concerned they put too much chloroform in you.” 

You spit at the ground near his boot. “Go to hell, prick.”

A dark grin spreads across the man’s scarred face. “Oh, honey, I’ve been living there for years.” The gun in his hand clicks loudly, raising the hairs on the back of your neck, pointing the barrel of the gun at your knee. “But don’t worry. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

A ripple of chuckles dance around you mockingly. Scarface eventually stands up, pacing around you tauntingly. 

“Let’s cut to the chase, yeah?” he starts. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?”

He stops directly behind you, and you feel the barrel of his gun knock against the back of your head. 

“Here’s the thing,” Scarface continues coldly. “This ain’t personal, sweetheart. Though, between you and me, it’s a hell of a bonus that you happen to be his plaything.”

Your blood runs cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He simply laughs, a bitter bark that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. “Come on, princess, don’t play dumb. You and Superman. Or whatever the hell he calls himself these days. We’ve seen you two.” 

You swallow hard, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re delusional.”

His grin widens, teeth yellow in the dim light. “Am I? Or did you think no one else would notice? Cameras are everywhere in this shithole city, darling. Tell me, doll𑁋does he fly straight to your apartment after a rescue? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Fuck you silly in the sky?”

You jerk frantically against the cuffs, wincing as the metal digs deeper into your skin. “You’re sick, you𑁋”

The sound of the gun cocking immediately makes you zip your mouth. 

“You wrote that little article, huh? Though you were some big hero exposing our kryptonite trade, eh?” He lets out a low whistle. “You’ve pissed off the wrong people with that one, princess. It almost makes me feel bad for you, honestly. But alas, you’ve signed your own death warrant with that.”

“If you want to kill me so badly, just do it,” You urge lowly.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Scarface spits hoarsely. “As much as it would be fun to put a bullet through your head, there are far more important things than that. Superman.”

“He’s not your enemy,” You attempt to reason, even though deep down you know it’s useless. “He’s saved this city more times than𑁋”

“I’ve heard all the PR bullshit,” he cuts you off sharply. “He’s a threat. A freak. An alien bastard. A ticking time bomb. You think this world is safe with him flying around? He can lift mountains and destroy an entire city with a fucking sneeze. And threats like that need to be neutralised.” 

Scarface looms above you once again, pointing the gun right between your eyes. 

“And what better way to lure him out by using the thing he loves most?” 

You battle the fear grappling at your chest, forcing your defiant gaze to shoot a dagger right through him. 

“Fuck you.”

What comes next is a loud slap that echoes across the room. Pain immediately burns through your cheek from the force, your vision momentarily blurring, the taste of copper falling on your tongue. Your teeth scrape against each other in your mouth as you hold back the heat sprouting in the corners of your eyes. 

“Tough girl, huh?” Scarface sneers amusedly, pulling away from you. “Makes things more fun.”

Before you can retort, you hear shots ringing out in the distance𑁋somewhere outside from wherever you are. It stuns the room in a brief, rigid silence, making the armed men in the room hoister their rifles. There’s a momentary wave of relief that hits you, a beat of hope that reverberates in your heart. 

Scarface curses lowly under his breath, his grip hardening around his pistol, signaling to the men in the room. You watch as they all give a nod before marching out the door, before Scarface flickers his gaze back to you. 

“You stay right here, yeah?” He gives you a forceful flick on the forehead. “Enjoy the show, princess.”

The rattling sound of keys jerks your attention upright. You watch with hazy eyes as two armed men stroll inside the room with heavy footsteps. Both of their faces are obscured and hidden by hats and masks, rifles slung across their shoulders as they approach you. They come to either side of you𑁋the man on the right reaches for a tight grip around your waist.

“Get up,” he orders gruffly. “Orders changed. We’re taking you outside.”

The man on the left is noticeably silent as you’re yanked off your chair and onto your feet. Your knees wobble from having been sitting for God knows how long, blood and adrenaline rushing throughout your body. 

You find yourself being forced towards the exit, entering into a shallow hallway. Exposed pipes and the heavy, unappealing scent of oil and gunpowder fill your lungs. You stumble against the uneven floor as you’re guided forward, their grips firm on your wrists.

The silence of the hallway feels deafening, seemingly endless before your eyes with no visible signs of escape. You overhear the man on the right mumbling something over what you assume to be a radio, then you allow your gaze to flit over to the man on the left. 

He’s stoic, composed, the low brim of his cap hiding his eyes. His grip on your wrist is not as bruising as the other man; in fact, it’s almost gentle, somewhat hesitant. It doesn’t feel like the kind of grip of someone dragging you down to your execution. Or maybe you’re just holding onto the end of some fragile thread of hope, because at this point, it’s slipping from your grasp way faster than you’re able to catch up with.

“Get moving.” The man on the right shoves you with the barrel of his gun.

You stumble forward with a sharp hiss, and you hardly realise that the grip on your left wrist tightens ever so slightly, preventing you from falling down to the ground.

“Watch it,” the man on the left grumbles.

“Shut your mouth.” The other man gives you another harsher push. 

And then, suddenly, the air shifts.

It happens like the blink of an eye𑁋a blur of movement catches you off-guard and before your brain could fully process what’s happening, the man on the left snaps into action.

With one fluid, impossible movement, he lets go of your wrist before swinging a hand directly into the other man’s gut. A sickening crunch echoes through the empty hallway as you watch the armed guard crumple down to the ground. Before he has any chance to recover, the man on your left knocks the rifle clean out of his hands, and in another flash of motion, slams him hard into the wall.

The impact leaves a deep dent in the drywall. 

You instinctively shield yourself with your cuffed hands, fear slithering up your shaky legs as the man turns directly towards you. For a moment, your heart nearly stops.

And then, you see it.

Though his face is still obscured, you catch a glimpse𑁋just a tiny glimpse𑁋of his eyes.

There’s no anger in them.

Or rage.

But warmth. 

Your lips part in disbelief as you scan him from head to toe. The brim of his hat is slightly askew from earlier, dark hair peeking out from underneath. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, his frame sending an unmistakable spark of recognition through your mind, and it takes everything in you not to cry or collapse from relief. 

Superman is here. He found you.

He steps up to you carefully while removing his mask, reaching an arm behind to snap the cuffs off your wrists like they’re made of tinfoil. They fall down the ground with a clank, and you find yourself instinctively leaning into him, feeling his arms immediately catch you. His warmth is enough to wash away more of the fear and adrenaline coursing within you. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is low, almost hoarse𑁋like it physically hurts to see you like this.

You give a subtle, vulnerable shake of your head. He doesn’t press you more about it. 

“There’s kryptonite here,” You tell him worriedly. “They talked about it𑁋said they were going to use it on you. To trap you. Kill you.”

You feel his body stiffen for a moment. Not out of fear, though. He’s not afraid, you think.

“I know,” he says quietly. 

He releases you a little, giving him room to slide one of his gloves off. Your eyes widen at the sight of blood on his knuckles. The imminent danger of kryptonite is fully shown right in front of you. Just like the heist at the National Bank, it’s enough to even make the Man of Steel bleed. 

You take his hand in yours. It tremors from your touch. “No, you can’t𑁋” You purse your lips together urgently. “They want you to walk into their trap. Into their goddamn execution chamber.”

He doesn’t pull his hand away. He lets you hold it, allowing your gaze to wash over the blooming scrape as if it’ll be enough to make it fade away. You feel the restraint in his body, as if he’s trying to hold in the imperceptible signs of pain he may be feeling. He’s breathing harder than he should, and still holding your hand like he doesn’t want to let go. 

Then he looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time since stepping into this hellhole. And it nearly destroys him to see worry carved in your features. He’s never seen this look on you before, never seen you𑁋the Daily Planet’s most passionate and sharp-witted journalist𑁋this scared before. For him. 

His jaw tics.

“I have to stop them,” he mutters. “It’s what I have to do.”

He’s about to move. You can feel it in the way his body shifts. You still refuse to let him go. 

“There’s a vent, northside of the building,” he informs you softly. “It’s a tight squeeze, but it’ll take you outside. Reinforcements are already on their way. I’ll hold them off so you can get out.”

“No,” You insist desperately, clinging to his sleeve. “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding. They’ll𑁋”

“Please.”

His voice cracks from the singular word alone. God, you want to argue. To cry. To kiss him hoping that this entire thing was just a figment of your imagination. But you can’t. This nightmare is real. 

The realisation settles in your bones like ice. 

He bends down a little to press his forehead against yours. You relish the closeness, allowing your eyes to fall to a close. While the world has gone mad outside, there’s a brief period of stillness that makes standing in this quiet, grimy hallway less suffocating. Slowly, your fingers release his sleeve, one-by-one. 

“If you die in there, I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” You whisper shakily, trying to summon any semblance of strength in your voice𑁋yet, it wavers anyway. 

The barest twitch of his lips is the closest thing to a smile you get. “Deal.”

You open your eyes to look at him again𑁋just in case. Just in case this is the last time you get to. He doesn’t say anything, only leaning in to press the gentlest of kisses to your forehead which makes your heart squeeze tightly. It burns. Not from heat, but from the pain of goodbye disguised as tenderness. 

“Go. Run,” he demands. “Don’t look back.” 

You hesitate. Just for a second. And then you turn on your heel and bolt. 

Your footsteps echo down the corridor, fading faster than he’s ready for. You don’t look back. You can’t. Because you know that if you do, you’ll turn around and never leave. And he needs you to leave. Staying might only hurt him even more. 

Maybe that’s what love is sometimes: letting go of something, even when one piece of you is begging to stay. 

Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋watches as your figure disappears around the corner. The softness in his gaze hardens back to steel. He brings his eyes down to the unconscious guard slumped down the wall, stepping over to crouch down. 

He begins to rifle through the man’s pockets swiftly. There’s no time to waste. At the corner of his eye, he spots one of the kryptonite pendants hidden underneath the man’s jacket. Other things that he finds are pretty standard: extra rounds of ammo, a pistol, a radio muttering purely static, a tactical knife. All of it is completely useless to him. But then, his hand brushes against something cold and metallic in one of the inner pockets.

He pulls it out𑁋a small, lead-lined case, which alone is already a red flag, and an access card. 

Mingyu pockets the card before flipping open the tiny hatch, bracing for what he already suspects. Inside, there’s kryptonite, but it seems to be purposely melted into a liquid, metallic state, pulsing green like a heartbeat. The buzz from the radiation itches at the edges of his strength. He digs a little deeper into the man’s pockets, and he flinches when something sharp caresses his skin. 

A syringe. It’s sleek, probably custom-made, the kind you don’t find in a standard military-grade medical kit. No, this was made for a purpose. They’d planned to get close to him, inject him. That’s why they needed you. You were the bait𑁋the knife they’d twist into his gut the moment his guard drops. 

And it nearly worked. 

Mingyu crushes the syringe in his hand without a second thought, the material melting inwardly before crumpling to the ground like a pile of dust. They used you. They took you from him. Toyed with your life and hurt you, left bruises on your wrists that he can still feel under his fingers.  

It’s not rage that powers him now. 

It’s you. 

A bullet barely grazes his cheek, flying past him and hitting the wall right behind him. 

He doesn’t flinch. He’s bleeding, but he hardly lets it phase him. 

Mingyu’s body moves before he could even think, instincts sharpened by fury. He lunges forward, grabbing the armed man by the collar and slamming him into the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. The rifle clatters uselessly to the floor, and Mingyu crushes it with his foot. 

Another soldier comes up at Mingyu from behind𑁋the soft click of the safety being released heightens his senses𑁋and he spins, sweeping the attacker’s legs out from under him. Before the man could hit the ground, a loud crack bounces off the walls as Mingyu’s fists meets his jaw with a forceful punch. 

Pain rattles through his bones. He’s getting weaker by the minute, as if there’s some invisible noose tightening with every breath he takes. But he has to keep going. He has to. 

He limps past the carnage of unconscious bodies, his breath ragged, shoulders rising and falling heavily with the effort to stay upright. The hallway ahead of him stretches before his eyes, flickering lights buzzing overhead. He makes one turn. Then another. And another. 

He stops in his path.

A dead end, but it doesn’t forgo any sort of hope; in fact, quite the opposite. A steel, reforged door looms in front of him. Unlike the other doors in the place, there’s no handle for this one. A keypad glows faintly on the side𑁋red, locked tight. But he remembers the access card he pocketed earlier from the guard.

Taking it out of his pocket, he swipes it.

A soft beep. Then a hiss.

A gust of cold air meets his face as the door slides open slowly. For a moment, he doesn’t move𑁋his instincts scream at him that something is off, that something is wrong. But he steps forward anyway, walking inside the room as another wave of nausea courses through him. 

His eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a minute to labour his breathing. One exhale. Two exhales. Three exhales. It’s relieving, even for a little while.

Then he opens his eyes.

And his heart drops.

The room is vast and eerily silent. The walls are lined with what appear to be glass chambers, some sort of stasis pods. They’re large, cylindrical-shaped, condensation brewing through them so he’s unable to fully see inside. He makes his way over to one of the pods, running a bloodied hand over its icy surface. 

Mingyu nearly collapses down on his knees.

There’s a body inside. A woman, probably around his age. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, her skin pale. Yet as he gazes over her still form, his mind suddenly racks with memories, recognition. This woman was on the list of people who were reported as a missing cold case at the very beginning. She was here all along, and the thought makes frustration blaze through him.

Then, another feeling slithers up his spine. He can feel it right down to his core, and it makes him stagger a few steps backwards. The same physiology. The same dormant power thrumming beneath her skin𑁋except, it’s lifeless now. Pulseless. 

The people who were reported missing weren’t humans.

They’re Kryptonians. 

Kryptonians who had survived the fallout of the planet, just like him. Mingyu thought he was the only survivor, but he wasn’t. They were here this entire time, and he couldn’t save them. 

God, he had hoped. Somewhere, deep down, he had hoped that he wasn’t entirely alone, even if the loneliness was a fact he’d come to accept over the years. He had hoped that maybe one day, he’d find another Kryptonian out there who could tell him stories, or even what the stars looked like from his home planet because he was way too young to even remember. 

He anguishly dashes from one pod to another, spotting more familiar faces from the missing person photos. Faces that look like his𑁋that feel like home. Some older, some younger. All stolen from the world and stripped of the chance to live like him. They all contain the same lifeless visage as the others, the same fading look of longing that there was freedom out there, but he was too late. 

What had happened to them? Were they tortured? Experimented and researched on? Anger courses through him, and he shrugs off the disguise that had kept him alive this far. His cape unfurls behind him, and the crest on his suit is no longer hidden by grime and blood. 

The symbol of hope.

He stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by the shattered remains of his people. He feels the guilt eat away at his resolve as he kneels down to the ground. There’s a dreadful stillness in the room that follows, before he clenches his bare fists and slams harshly into the ground, the floor cracking slightly beneath him. 

It fucking hurts. 

The rage that rises in his chest is no longer a flame. It’s blazing, devouring. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” a voice says from behind, low and coiling around his nerves like the poison it is. “I was starting to think you’d turn on your tail and run away like your little girlfriend.”

Mingyu doesn’t turn around right away. His jaw tightens as he forces himself to rise to full height, pulling through the pain with gritted teeth. He doesn’t need strength to recognise the bastard standing behind him. 

He spins his head slowly, red-rimmed eyes meeting the smug, scarred face grinning at him from across the room.

Scarface is leaning against the doorframe, twirling a pistol between his fingertips. That ugly scar draws down his features like someone had tried to carve the smugness off his face and failed. Mingyu watches as he approaches him at a leisure pace, walking into the room like he’s the goddamn messiah of this butcher’s cathedral. 

“You piece of shit,” Mingyu rasps, chest heaving. “You killed them. You killed my people.”

Scarface clicks his tongue. “Killed? No, no.” He shakes his head amusedly. “We liberated them, sunshine. Gave them a purpose before their little brains shut down. You wouldn’t believe how much their bones would go for on the black market. Oh, you should’ve seen them, Kryptonian. Some of them lit up like fucking fireworks the second they got poked.”

Mingyu surges forward.

Or, he tries to.

But his knees buckle the moment he shifts his weight, a strangled noise escaping out of his throat as his legs give out beneath him. The green haze he’s been fighting since he stepped foot in this hellhole is suffocating him in. The very air is probably saturated in it. As he tries to lift himself again, it’s no use. His strength is barely there. The fire is there𑁋God, it’s there𑁋but his body is failing him. 

“Kryptonite’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Scarface squats down just a few feet away. “You know what’s really funny? I didn’t even need to do much. All I had to do was grab your girl, and you folded like a fucking piece of paper.”

Mingyu jerks his head up from that. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”

Scarface slams the butt of his pistol into Mingyu’s ribs, causing him to crumple down on the floor with a groan. 

“Struck a nerve, huh?” he sneers. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? So feisty too. All that attitude. It’s a shame, though. I can’t wait to see the sparkle leave her eyes when I’m finally done with you.”

That makes Mingyu snap again.

Mustering whatever strength he has, he manages to land a punch right at Scarface’s jaw. It catches the man off-guard, and Scarface stumbles back, momentarily stunned. But Mingyu watches as he recovers quickly, wiping the blood off his lips with a mocking smile. 

“That’s all you can do, eh?” Scarface spits angrily. “What a pity.”

“Why?” Mingyu pants heavily. “Why did you do this? To my people?” 

Scarface straightens his stance, letting out a dark, low chuckle. “Because you freaks don’t belong here.”

He gestures broadly to all the pods in the room, to all the still, frozen remnants of what Mingyu had once hoped were kin. 

“We let one of you walk among us𑁋fly above us𑁋and what do we get in return?” Scarface motions back to Mingyu. “We get broken cities, dead citizens, and a god playing dress-up in a cape thinking he knows what’s best for us.” 

“You slaughtered them,” Mingyu growls in frustration. God, he wants nothing more than to rip this man apart. “They were just trying to live. Trying to survive.” 

Scarface cocks his head to the side in amusement. “And look where that got them. Look where that got you. We took care of them before they had the chance to get power and control. You don’t get it, do you, alien? You think just because you can bleed and cry and kiss like the rest of us makes you human?”

The man steps closer to Mingyu, looming over him now, his footsteps brooding with each step. Scarface whistles annoyingly as he lowers his gun away, before pulling something out from his vest. Heat boils through Mingyu’s as another familiar syringe is summoned, the sickly glowing green of kryptonite reflecting on his skin. It’s almost as if the kryptonite itself is alive, hungry.

Mingyu doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. The veins in his neck pop from the pressure, but his eyes are made of steel. Unyielding. 

Scarface’s cracked lips twitch up into a smirk, taunting the fang of the needle closer and closer to his neck. 

“Finally! I can use this. Saved it for a special occasion, you see,” the man croons goadingly, letting the emerald fire of the kryptonite inside the syringe swirl. “Bullets and bombs are messy, but this? You’ll feel every second of it. And when it’s done, well… maybe I’ll put your corpse on display for the world to see that the perfect Superman can bleed. Can die. Can be humiliated.”

The tip of the syringe caresses over Mingyu’s carotid artery, just a whisper away from being injected into his body. If Scarface pressed a little harder, it would all be over. 

And then𑁋

A loud BOOM bursts through the room like thunder. 

A gun fires. 

But it doesn’t come from Scarface.

It comes from behind him, echoing like thunder across the room, the bullet lodging into the wall behind Mingyu.

“Get away from him,” a voice rings out shakily𑁋your voice. “Now.”

Scarface freezes, his entire body jerking as the bullet whooshes past him. His expression contorts from surprise to disbelieving amusement, the scar on his face contorting into a smirk. 

He turns his head slowly and spots you. You’re standing by the threshold, trembling hands gripping tightly onto a pistol that you snatched from one of his fallen minions. There’s a bruise to your cheek and your clothes and ID badge are covered with dirt, dried blood, and grime. Your chest is heaving with a mix of horror and fury, your body braced like the hells have cracked open beneath your feet and you’re struggling to stay above the surface. 

You’re terrified out of your mind, but you’re here.

And Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋feels his heart stutter painfully in his chest, because damn, he’s never seen anything more braver in his life. 

Scarface’s eyes rake over you incredulously. “Well, look who decided to come and play the hero, hm?”

He places a singular foot in front of the other, and you aim your gun again.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” You threaten, trying to power through your sweaty palms and unsteady grip. 

Scarface raises his hands mockingly. “Sweetheart, I’m so scared. Look at you𑁋you’re trembling like a leaf.” He raises his gun back to you, which makes you stagger slightly. “Aren’t you just a journalist? Thinking you can play in the big leagues ‘cause you got a piece on the Daily Planet front page?” 

He stalks a little closer to you like a vulture, testing your nerves.

“Aliens like him don’t belong on this planet,” Scarface hisses. “And you? You think someone like him could ever really love someone like you? Come on, darling. Be honest with yourself. He’s a walking extinction event. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.” 

The pistol in your grasp wavers. You feel it𑁋hesitation creeping through you like a dense, thick fog. The words prickle like the heat of a hot poker getting jabbed into your skin.

Scarface sees it. 

That tiny flicker of doubt. It’s all he needs to latch onto like a leech. His words seep through your body like venom. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.

And on the side, Superman sees it as well.

The gun lowers in your hand. For a fraction of a second, you allow your thoughts to believe his words.

You’ve heard the rumours, watched the news, read the bylines that were initially published when Superman first came to light. The public loved him. Then feared him. Then loved him again. You always tried to remain neutral, like a good journalist always does. But somewhere between the time he had rescued your bag and to the kiss he gave you in the sky after the interview, your objectivity crumpled along with your heart. 

Wait. A bell rings in your head. The interview. 

“I’ve found my home here with people I care about,” he had said. “There’s something about this city that makes it hard not to love, you know?”

“Is that what you consider yourself?” You had asked him. “A symbol of hope?”

“Not exactly,” he had responded. “I think people deserve hope. I just want to remind them it’s still there.”

You remember it all𑁋the look of quiet sincerity in his eyes when he said it. The ache behind his words like he was carrying a galaxy of burdens, yet still managed to smile at you. 

“But here’s what I believe,” he had told you. “Even though I can’t save everyone, I know I saved someone. And maybe that person goes on to save others, and those others save more. That’s how hope survives𑁋it spreads, even in the places I can’t reach. And that… that’s worth the burden.”

Your gaze falls towards Superman, who is crumpled on the floor, veins bulging out of his neck, blood dripping at the corners of his mouth. He’s clutching his side with gritted teeth, practically at the verge of passing out; yet despite everything, despite how close death is wrapped around his ribs, his eyes𑁋God, his eyes𑁋are watching you like you’re the only other person in the room, like you’re the only goddamn star left in the sky. There’s no fear there. No regret. 

He’s still there. He’s still fighting.

“He’ll outlive you, sweetheart,” Scarface says with a chuckle. “He’ll outlive all of us. This stupid world is going to grow old and die, and he’ll be floating above the ashes looking down on us. And when you’re gone𑁋just another speck of dust in the wind𑁋he won’t even remember your name.”

You falter again. Just a blink. The words scratch at old insecurities like fingernails on scars. 

Your vision clouds, not from tears, but from uncertainty.

Scarface sees it like it’s his golden ticket. 

But then, there’s a cough. A weak one, yet it’s enough to break through the fog clouding your mind. Your gaze whips towards the source, and you’re met with an expression so heartbreakingly soft.

“Don’t listen to him,” Superman groans out, coughing hoarsely, and the utter familiarity of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Please. Don’t… let him in your head. I lo𑁋”

A gun fires. It happens in a blur: one second you’re frozen in place, the next your ears are ringing from the force of the shot, and there’s a pool of blood forming at your feet. The pistol clatters to the floor from your shaky hands as your steps stagger back slightly𑁋you don’t even recall pulling the trigger.

Scarface blinks.

He doesn’t fall. Not at first.

He just stares at you, stunned, as if you’ve grown a pair of wings or another head he hadn’t reckoned with before. Then there’s a twitch to his bloody mouth𑁋somewhere along the lines between a smirk or like he’s about to say one last vile, witty remark𑁋but his knees buckle beneath him, the kryptonite syringe falling from his hands and clattering to the ground. You watch in horror as his body collapses to the ground with a sickening thud. You’ve never seen blood pool faster than now, spreading throughout the steer floor below. 

You’re still holding your breath. You can’t even move, even breathe, your arms trembling at your sides 

The silence that follows is deafening. 

You stare at Scarface’s body, your mind completely blank, as if trying to reject the impossible deed you just committed. You just shot him. You killed someone. With the hands you used to type articles until dusk𑁋you used it to end a life. 

For some uneasy reason, you don’t feel heroic. You don’t feel strong. Gosh, you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Then a low, pained grunt startles you out of your head. Superman. 

“You saved me.”

Your legs act before you could even catch up with it, finding yourself kneeling down to the ground, scrambling to pick him up on his feet, but you struggle. He’s heavier than he looks𑁋well, of course he is𑁋so you let your arms wrap around him instinctively, attempting to hoist him upright again. 

His body lurches in your hold as you’re barely able to drag him by a few feet to the door. It doesn’t take long for your effort to fail as he slumps back down to the floor again, dragging you down with him. Somewhere down the corridor, you can hear the rapid sounds of footsteps and radio chatter of emergency responders that you met when you escaped initially. You just need to hold him tighter for another minute. 

“Hey, hey, don’t do that𑁋shit, don’t close your eyes,” You plead desperately when you notice his eyes falling, brushing away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “Backup is coming. Stay with me. Please.”

“Fuck…” he croaks out weakly, and you feel his hand lace into yours. A weak grasp, but it’s there. It’s something. “Y/N, I…”

“Don’t talk,” You tell him softly, letting your free hand cradle his face to bring him into your chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Superman, you hear me?”

Superman breathes raggedly against your chest. You feel the way he’s burning up, see the way his eyelids are fluttering as he tries so goddamn hard to focus on your presence around him, hear the way he’s literally struggling to get his lungs to fucking work. But you still don’t let go. 

“He killed my… my people…” he rasps, a few dry coughs jolting out of him. “The missing people… they’re…”

If it was possible for your heart to physically break, you swear it does now. He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to know exactly what he’s talking about. The room was entirely a blur when you stepped in initially, but with the quietness now and Scarface’s lifeless body on the floor, you can see it all. 

You remember all the photos in the files, all the reports about the missing people whose cases all went cold, unsolved, and discarded. They were never just missing people. They were survivors. And the two of you were too late to realise that. 

“I’m sorry.” You shelter him even closer to you, because you know there’s not much you can do except to hold him together as tightly as you can, even if he’s completely falling apart on the inside. “I’m so, so sorry…” 

You know that apologising could never bring his people back, yet Superman inhales your words even if it’s painful to do so, holding onto you even tighter, his warmth seeping into your skin. Blood and grime stains your shirt as he leans into you through the pain, his quiet sobs muffled as he buries his face in your chest. 

You press a warm, trembling kiss to the temple of his head. He doesn’t speak; no, he closes his eyes, dipping in and out of consciousness, and lets himself be held. 

“You’re safe now, Superman, okay? You’re safe with me.”

Above the two of you, the crest on Superman’s chest catches the overhead light, flickering weakly, but it never dims. Hope had barely survived. 

Beneath your feet, the city is peaceful. 

It’s been two weeks since the ordeal. Two weeks since Scarface’s body hit the floor. Two weeks since the sounds of gunfire etched itself permanently into your bones. Two weeks since the awful stench of sweat, blood, and gunpowder had stuck to your clothes no matter how many showers you took.

Two weeks since you saw Superman’s near-lifeless body being hauled through the hospital as the doctors and medical experts struggled to make sense of his alien biology𑁋every needle they poked through him broke on impact from his skin, but still, they didn’t give up on him. Refused to give up on him.  

Two weeks, and the city has begun to breathe again mostly. 

You haven’t slept much since.

The DOD have been working on reprimanding other criminals who had access to the kryptonite trade, and the kryptonite shipments that were found within the sketchy warehouses in Pier 13 had been confiscated as well. Details were still being poured in, but all you know is that the kryptonite is finally out of harm’s way. At least, for now.

People have been calling you a hero, a survivor. Some of your colleagues have written a little tribute column in you and Superman’s honour. You didn’t ask for it. You didn’t exactly want it. The attention has been overwhelming, to say the least.

You had just gotten through your first day back after requesting some time off to recalibrate. Now, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the rooftop at the Daily Planet. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as the evening breeze rustles through your hair. You take a sip from a can of beer𑁋a second one at your feet for good measure. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around to the voice, a faint smile when you catch Mingyu walking up to you. The glasses on his face catch the faintest sparkle from the moonlight. He’s clad in his usual attire𑁋a denim jacket, a white shirt, and a pair of baggy denim jeans𑁋and his hands in his pockets as if he’s unsure of his own presence right now. You had sent him an email a few hours again telling him that you’d be staying late tonight.

It seems that showing up is his response. 

“Hey,” You greet him quietly.

Mingyu slowly saunters over to where you are. He doesn’t sit down at first, but then you nudge towards the second can of beer by your feet.

“Peace offering,” You say with a light chuckle. “It’s probably warm now, but whatever.”

A small laugh escapes him as he sits down beside you, the tip of his knee touching yours when he crosses his legs together. He takes the can of beer and opens it with a sharp click, taking a quick sip of his own. 

Mingyu shoots a quick glance at you, watching the way your gaze is lingering out to the mellow, peaceful, blissfully unaware city. He allows himself to look out to the world as well, with the stars hanging low in the sky as if they’re curiously eavesdropping on this strange little moment. The two of you take another sip from your cans, letting the silence stretch in the air. It’s not uncomfortable𑁋not entirely, anyway. It’s quiet, calm, like the city has exhaled for the first time in a long while. 

“Did you know I spent the night in juvie once?” You suddenly pop in.

Mingyu’s brow furrows in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” You confirm, shaking your head to the memory. “I was fourteen. Dumb, broke, and angry at the world like any other teenager. Stole some makeup from the local pharmacy. Got caught before I even stepped through the door.” 

Mingyu huffs a soft laugh beside you. It wasn’t mocking, just simple disbelief about this little detail of your life. “That’s hard to imagine.”

“Well, I also had purple hair. Oh, and a lip piercing. Did it with a safety pen,” You add in with a dry laugh. “Wouldn’t recommend it at all.”

He grins softly at that. He tries to imagine it𑁋he really does𑁋but all he can see is you. Even with your past little rebel phase, you’re still the same person with a fire-lit soul he first saw when you were tackling this entire case, scribbling away in the depths of your cubicle and rummaging through endless files in the archive room with a sharp tongue and a guarded heart. 

You haven’t changed, not really. Just a little older, a little stronger. Maybe a little more tired. 

“I grew up in a place that never really felt like home,” You continue, cradling the can of beer in your hands. “Parents were always busy trying to keep the lights on. I bounced between schools and hardly stuck around enough to make proper friends.”

You feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. He’s listening, steady and patient as always. 

“Then I started writing to keep myself sane,” You confess. “Started with dumb teenage poetry, angsty blog posts, then… it sort of turned into something more real. I stole a newspaper from the library, read this piece about corruption with the mayor at the time. Something about it just clicked for me.”

Mingyu notices the way your features soften with relief. 

“So, I cleaned myself up,” You continue with a smile. “Wrote shit for the newsletter in high school, got a few internships in college. One thing led to another and well… Here I am. I don’t know if Seungcheol even looked at my resume.”

“He did,” Mingyu chimes in playfully. “Well, not exactly. More like flaunted about you.”

You snort at that, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Clearly you’re good at what you do, or else he would’ve been accused of nepotism by now,” Mingyu says with a teasing grin, before it eases into something more bashful. “And… you are, um, good. Amazing, even. I admire you. I’m sure the rest of the world would agree, too.”

Your chest tightens at his words. It’s crazy how he’s able to disarm you just like that. Kim Mingyu, the guy who spilled coffee on your shirt the first day you met. Kim Mingyu, who brings you over sweetened coffee when he knows you’ve had a rough morning. Kim Mingyu, who caught you in his arms in the archive room when you nearly slipped on some fallen files. 

Kim Mingyu, who tried to protect you from publishing the exposé on the kryptonite trade. Who stupidly ran back into the Daily Planet even with the bomb threatening the entire building. Who promised to come back, but he didn’t, and then he did𑁋

Kim Mingyu, who… may or may not be Superman.

And Superman, who you’ve kissed.

“What were you like?” You suddenly ask, turning to Mingyu slightly. “Growing up?” 

Mingyu takes another sip of his beer, and you catch the way his shoulders stiffen before relaxing quickly. His eyes flicker𑁋not toward you, not toward the city𑁋to somewhere far away. There’s the faintest hint of hesitation when the can leaves his mouth. You don’t rush him. You know how to wait.

“I grew up on a farm,” he finally answers, a wistful look to his face. “I was, um… adopted when I was younger. It was just me, my parents, my sister, and our dog. They were good people. And it was nice living out in the countryside. Peaceful, even.” 

“You? On a farm?” 

Mingyu turns to you. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, of course I do. It’s just…” Your voice trails off, fondness glazing over your features. “Just trying to imagine it, you know. Little Kim Mingyu running around in the cornfields with mud on his knees and a head too big for his body.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of him. “Well, you aren’t that far off, I guess. Used to trip over my own feet all the time.”  

You hum against the rim of the can. “Explains the permanent clumsiness.”

Mingyu huffs in mock offense at that, wearing that familiar, warm, boyish grin to his lips. 

“And science journalism?” You question curiously. “What made you want to get into that?”

“Always had this sort of… curiosity about the world.” He gives a small shrug, fingers tapping against the can. “I was, uh… really into astronomy too. I used to stay up all night looking through this janky telescope my dad snagged from a yard sale. Guess I just wanted to know what’s out there, how things worked and whatnot.”

What Mingyu doesn’t tell you is that he used to look through the telescope in the hopes of finding any remnants of his origins, of his home. Not the little farmhouse with the creaky porch swing or the kind faces who raised him with warm hands and warmer hearts. No, he means the kind of home that stretched light years away, a place that echoed in his bones with a certain ache he couldn’t name. A home he had never truly seen, but felt nonetheless. 

He doesn’t say any of it; instead, he tucks it away with a remorseful sip of beer. When he glances back to you, you seem almost lost in thought again.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol buzzing through your veins or something else. “Yeah. Just… rough couple of weeks.”

Mingyu lets his eyes trail over you. The bruise to your cheek has almost entirely faded𑁋a clear reminder of the hell you’ve been through𑁋but the memory of everything hasn’t. Though to him, you still look stronger and more beautiful than ever. 

“We survived a bombing, I got fucking kidnapped, then I shot a horrible man in cold blood and it just𑁋” Your lips form a tight line. “And yet, despite all of that, I… The only thing that’s been making me stay up these nights is the fact that I fell in love with two different men.”

Mingyu freezes beside you. You don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s panicking. The breezes seem to pick up a little harder, tucking and sending strands of your hair flying that you don’t bother to fix. 

“God, I-I sound like an absolute homewrecker,” You mutter in disbelief, clicking your tongue, before fully turning to face him. “Because how is it possible that I’m able to fall for you, and him𑁋Superman𑁋at the same time?”

The words hang in the air like lightning preparing to strike. And suddenly, Mingyu forgets how to breathe. 

“I kissed him𑁋he kissed me after the interview.” Your voice grows louder now, more certain. “It wasn’t just a quick peck. It was real. Then I looked at him, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or that I’ve gone insane. But for a split second, I swear to God, I saw you, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s lips part as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. You watch the way his fingers tighten around the can, the soft crinkle of aluminum breaking under his grip. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. His gaze only lingers straight ahead. 

You keep going. 

“I thought I was going crazy,” You go on, powering through your shaky voice. “That maybe this stupid crush I’ve had on you since the day we met was getting to me. But then I thought more𑁋how you showed up late for meetings, how you disappeared after the heist, how you caught me in the archive room, how you tried to stop me from publishing the exposé… how you look at me.” 

The silence between you both is probably more deafening and terrifying then when you shot Scarface, but this silence is filled with revelation. It means everything. 

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

He still doesn’t say anything. The only sound you hear is the crumple of the beer can from his tight grip. 

“Mingyu.” The way his name rolls out of your mouth hits Mingyu more painful than anything else. “Say something, please. Tell me I’m just projecting, or that I’m drunk or delusional or traumatised𑁋just something.” 

Mingyu’s throat bobs. His jaw clenches. His eyes close and reopen slowly, and he exhales a breath as if it hurts. 

“I’m not him, Y/N,” he admits finally, voice careful𑁋too careful.

But it doesn’t sound convincing. Not even a little.

And he knows it.

You know it, too.

A part of you wants to laugh, or cry. Or to shake him, kiss him, and hold him all at once. You barely even register standing up, your near-empty beer can forgotten on the floor.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” You retort back bitterly.

He stands up as well. “I’m not lying.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not𑁋”

“I’m a goddamn journalist, Mingyu.” You throw your arms out dramatically. “I live off of facts, off truths. I know when I’m being lied to.”

You hate how your voice cracks at the end. You’re not even mad, not in the way you thought you’d be. You’re hurt. You’re exhausted. And still, you love him. Even if you can’t provide definitive proof that the guy you kissed in the sky felt exactly like the man you love on the ground, your heart knows. It knows, and it’s pounding so damn hard it may as well crack through your ribs and scream it all out. 

Mingyu feels so torn, like he’s standing between two burning buildings collapsing in on him. This awful lump is lodged in his throat, his fists clenched at his side, but his feet won’t move, even if his own heart is telling him to. He’s still trying to protect something𑁋maybe you, maybe himself, maybe from this paper-thin illusion that he can still tape up, even with the tears showing.

Then, he watches in shock when you take a step backwards, near the edge of the rooftop. The rush of air from being thirty stories up teases up and down your back. 

“Y/N,” he warns in panic, his body tensing. “Don’t you dare.”

You don’t know what kind of madness is possessing you right now. Perhaps it’s from the lack of sleep the past two weeks, the fact you drank an entire can of warm beer, or from the sheer desperation of needing him to tell you the truth. The real truth that has been digging in the crevices of your bones ever since you looked into Superman’s eyes and saw Kim Mingyu staring back at you. 

Your heel bumps the ledge.

“I trust you, Mingyu,” You mutter shakily. “I always have.”

You take a breath.

And then you do the most stupidest, bravest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life: you fall.

The world tilts before your eyes, the rush of wind overpowering the scream of your name that Mingyu yells out. 

The city below rushes up to meet you, the air roaring like a wind turbine through your ears, the gravity tearing your stomach inside out. You can’t breathe and can hardly think; hell, you don’t even scream. Time slows just enough for a single thought to push through: This is how I die. This is how I find out I’m wrong.

The windows of the Daily Planet all become a kaleidoscope of blurred lights as you plummet past them. The rooftop disappears into the tiniest speck in your vision, the ledge you just stood on now impossibly far away. You’re starting to feel the inevitable cold claw of death latching around you.

You feel weightless and heavy all at once.

Your heart clenches in your chest, your eyelids fluttering to a close. Your limbs are flailing around on instinct to reach for something, anything. Then, you brace yourself to hit the ground because you’re falling, fuck, you’re actually falling, and there’s no going back now𑁋that maybe this was all just delusion disguised as hope, that maybe𑁋

The world suddenly halts.

A gasp flies out of your mouth, ripping out of your lungs like they’ve just remembered how to function. You find your chest pressed against another body. Firm. Familiar. Powerful. Your eyes fly open as your entire form jolts against the abrupt stop, the wind rushing around you more calmly as you realise you’re ascending, not descending. 

Then you finally look at him. His glasses are still on somehow, dark hair messed up from the force of the wind, his eyes wide with fear and panic𑁋but unmistakably Kim Mingyu. Superman.

Warmth radiates off his skin as he clings onto you, his arms tightened like a lock around your waist. You feel the way his chest rises and falls with each panicked, shallow breath he takes. There’s a tremble to his body𑁋not from exertion or the flight𑁋but from the sheer terror that he nearly lost you. 

You let your arms circle around his neck, pressing closer to him. 

“Are you insane?!” Mingyu chokes out, the clouds around the two of you billowing as he slows to a hover, away from the city, the noise, the doubt. “What the hell was that?!”

You don’t answer at first. You simply just stare up at him, the high from your adrenaline receding into something more softer, tender, raw. The city is practically swallowed by the clouds underneath you as the two of you hover in the air, existing in this space between heaven and earth, between truth and lie. 

“You caught me,” You whisper. 

“Of course, I did𑁋Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Mingyu rasps breathlessly. “If I was just a second too late, you could’ve𑁋fuck𑁋”

“But I didn’t,” You cut him off gently. “Because I was right. I knew you’d catch me.”

Mingyu swallows hard. His eyes search yours like he’s trying to find some other outcome, still hoping that in some way, you don’t see the truth and that he can walk away from all of this. But it’s over. You know, and he knows you know. You’ve always dug deeper, looked harder than anyone else𑁋hell, it’s your job.

And maybe in some twisted, beautiful way, you were meant to find him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly. “I… I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t. Because if I told you, you’d see me differently. I would’ve put you in danger. God, I just wanted to be normal for you. To be Mingyu for you. Not the guy who can fly or lift buildings for a living.”

“We already lived through the danger, and survived,” You tell him desperately, your fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes. “And I’m still here. I never left and I don’t plan to. You don’t have to be so brave around me, you know.”

His body goes rigid from your words as if someone had punched him in the gut with a force that could rival a hundred bullets being shot at him. His grip on you never eases; if anything, he holds you even tighter, fingers tracing aimlessly circles at your waist as if trying to remind himself that you’re here. You’re real.

Mingyu hears your heartbeat thundering your chest, and he swears to himself it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“You terrify me.” His lips twitch upwards. “And dammit, I love you for it.”

Your breath hitches at that. The air around you grows silent, like the world itself is holding its breath as well. You reach up to trail a finger down his cheek, before tenderly cupping his face in your hand. Mingyu leans into your warmth as if he’s waited a hundred lifetimes to be allowed this. 

His eyes fall to a close before reopening again to look at you. But it isn’t just a glance𑁋no, he’s looking like he’s trying to memorise you, like he’s afraid to even blink. 

“I love you too,” You confess quietly.

Then you kiss him.

It’s soft, almost uncertain at first𑁋just a tentative brush of your mouth against his. Mingyu’s breath catches the second your lips meet his, his eyes widening for a split moment as he peers down at you with nothing but longing.

Then he simply just chuckles, low and breathless. His hands slowly trail their way up your spine, his other hand wrapping around more protectively around your waist. He tilts his head adoringly, pauses to blink, before leaning to press his mouth back to yours. This time, the kiss is deeper. Slower. And so impossibly gentle it nearly breaks you.

He’s kissing you like Kim Mingyu, and holding you like Superman.

Your hand reaches up to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers lightly threading through his hair. A sigh leaves him from your touch𑁋a breath of surrender, of relief, of finally, sending trembles all the way down to your toes. His nose barely brushes against yours as the angle shifts slightly, his chapped lips molding more fully into yours, coaxing your mouth open with a sweetness that sets your skin ablaze in the softest, most devastating way. 

The clouds hug dreamily around the two of you as you part away for air. You find your foreheads pressed against one another, your hand drifting to rest on his chest. You feel the way his heart is pounding, as if it’s overfilled to the brim with nothing but love. He’s holding you like you’re something fragile, precious, his. 

“You make me feel human,” Mingyu whispers shakily. “Like I belong somewhere.”

You tenderly brush the tip of your finger over his cheekbone. 

“You are human, Mingyu,” You tell him reassuringly. “Because only someone truly human would love the way you do.”

He stares at you like he doesn’t deserve to be looked this way. All his life he’s always been… different. He was the third grader who’d run away into the janitor’s closet crying because he accidentally broke the swing set at recess. The teenager who couldn’t join any sports due to the fear he’d break someone’s ribs. The adult who could save the world but never fully belong in it. 

But here, in your arms and under your gaze, he’s never felt more safe, wanted, and loved. 

Mingyu leans in again, littering tiny kisses over your skin𑁋from your forehead, to your nose, your cheek, a lingering one to your lips, each one eliciting a low giggle out of you. The sound makes his heart swell.

When he pulls back, there’s a breath of hesitation in the air. His gaze silently flickers between your eyes, to your mouth, and back up to your eyes again.

“Can I, uh…” He swallows thickly. “Can I… take you home?”

You blink dazedly at that, but as the words register, the corners of your lips twitch upwards. 

“Take me home?” You echo teasingly. “Is this your way of seducing me?” 

Mingyu’s ears instantly grow red.

“What? No𑁋I mean, yes𑁋wait, shit, that’s not what I𑁋” He fumbles over his words like he’s completely short-circuiting. And honestly, he really is. “I didn’t mean it like that𑁋okay, maybe I did, but𑁋fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh. Like really laugh. The kind of laugh that bubbles from deep within your chest and makes you throw your head back at his sheer adorableness. He’s literally stammering like a teenage boy trying to ask out his crush to prom. The sound of your laughter curls around Mingyu like sunlight, the tips of ears growing warmer from embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” You call his name after taking a minute to recover. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”

A sheepish pout crosses his features. “You’re evil, you know that? You’re gonna kill me one day.”

“You’re literally invincible.”

“Not to you.”

His words make your smile falter𑁋just for a second, your heartbeat thudding unevenly in your chest.

“I just… I want to be real with you,” Mingyu continues bashfully. “I want to hold you when I fall asleep and wake up to you in the morning. I want to take you on a thousand dates and argue about who left the dishes in the sink. I want… more than just saving the world. I want to do everything with you.”

Then his voice dips just slightly lower, still plagued with that certain shyness.

“And yeah, I want to kiss you. A lot. Probably for the rest of my life,” he adds in with a smile, before it softens. “And maybe more than that. If… if you want that, too.”

Your lips part slowly, warmth blooming throughout your body. You simply stare at him. Not because you’re surprised𑁋as you literally fell off a building just to prove your stupid heart right𑁋but because of how goddamn earnestly, nervously, hopefully he says it. Like the thought of having you is still something he doesn’t deserve.

You want it all with him, too.

“Okay,” is all you say.

His eyes widen. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You cup his face again, caressing a finger over the corner of his lip. “Take me home, Superman.”

Mingyu’s arms only tighten around you, and he presses one last kiss to your temple.

“Hold on tight.”

And then, the two of you are soaring through the skies.

Mingyu lands you back at your apartment.

It’s quiet inside. Your feet brush against the old wooden flooring, which is scruffed and faded in some spots. The walls are pretty much bare of any childhood relics except for an old photograph or two. Mingyu spots shelves of old case files, stacked notebooks, and a tiny little succulent plant. The couch appears second-hand, a little sunken in the middle, with a blanket on the arm that’s seen better days. 

There’s a kind of loneliness in the walls that Mingyu picks up immediately. It’s lived in, but barely. You’ve never really let anyone in here.

Still, Mingyu doesn’t say a word.

You watch the way his gaze trails over every crevice of your apartment, as if he’s stepping into a secret, into your own heart. And in a way, he is. He’s been to the edges of space and seen the worst humanity has to offer𑁋yet being in your little half-empty apartment is what feels the most real.

You find yourself pouring a glass of water in the kitchen as Mingyu’s fingers curiously trail over some of your old investigative journalism textbooks on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” You mutter, placing the glass back on the counter. “Never really felt the need to decorate, honestly.”

The emptiness of your apartment doesn’t bother him𑁋it never could. Mingyu crosses the room without a word, and you hardly have time to process his presence as his arms wrap around you from behind. You melt into him naturally, his warmth seeping through the layers of your clothes and caressing over your skin. 

As his breath hits the shell of your ear, tingles run up and down your spine.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters. “You let me in. That’s more than enough.” 

Before you have a chance to respond, he kisses you.

Not on the lips, not yet𑁋he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, then another one to your shoulder, tracing his little constellations on your skin along the way. You shudder from his touch, knees almost buckling, and you feel the smile on his face as he chuckles into your neck. 

“Mingyu…”

Mingyu hums against your skin. “Mhm?”

You nearly combust when his kiss lands near your collarbone.

“Do you, uh…” You start, already breathless. “...want to go to my bedroom?”

Mingyu lifts his head at your question. You don’t even have to turn to know he’s already smiling.

Before you can say anything more, he’s spinning you around and scooping you up in his arms effortlessly like you weigh literally nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his torso, a surprised yelp leaving your lips.

“Jeez! Warn a girl first!” You gasp, half-panicked, half-excited.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters with a grin, arms wrapped securely around your thighs. “Perks of the job.”

He carries you through your little apartment with confidence. Your head rests on his shoulder, your giggles mingling in the heavy air together as he strides down a small hallway. When he arrives in front of a door, he nudges it open with his foot𑁋before realising it’s your bathroom.

“Mingyu! That’s the bathroom!”

“Shit, sorry!” He backtracks quickly, embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he tightens his hold on you. “My glasses don’t let me use my x-ray vision here! I’m working with human eyes right now.” 

You practically die of laughter in his arms, hearing him grumble something under his breath before arriving at the correct door. He gives the door a little poke with his shoulder, and as he steps over the threshold into your bedroom, the air seems to thicken even more.

Just like the rest of your apartment, there’s nothing much here either. Just a bed, with disheveled mismatched sheets that you didn’t bother to fix in the morning, and a singular lamp flickering right next to it. Under the window, moonlight pours all over a small desk that has a bunch of scattered papers and an unopened laptop. A few pieces of clothing are sprawled out on the floor, and you silently curse at yourself for not being more prepared for this. 

Even then, Mingyu treats it as if it’s your palace, and that you’re the queen within it. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, bringing you snugly into his lap. His arms don’t let go of your waist, and his eyes never leave your face. 

You’re straddling him now, knees pressing into the bed on either side of his thighs. Your hands rest lightly on his shadows, and he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes as if he’s in complete awe of you. As if he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re his. 

“You’re shaking.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “I just… don’t want to hurt you.”

You shake your head at that. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That makes Mingyu pause for a moment, as if your words hit him square in the goddamn chest. Mingyu hardly trusts his own strength, and especially in a situation like this, he would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you. Whether it’s intimately, emotionally, anything, he’s never been more afraid of breaking something so precious as you. 

But you said you trust him, and that makes him want to be better, softer, stronger all at once. Just for you.

He leans in to kiss you again. This time, it’s a lot less playful, less teasing. Just slow, deliberate, and so goddamn soft you might as well spontaneously combust. Your hands instinctively wrap around him, his denim jacket falling off his shoulders and landing somewhere on the floor. You barely even register it coming off𑁋too lost in the way his lips mold sweetly and perfectly against yours. 

When he pulls back, his eyes remain peering up at you through those dorky glasses, at the way your lips are kiss-swollen and body heaving with shallow breaths. You don’t even have to hear him say anything, but you understand what he’s trying to convey: I want this, but only if you want it too. There’s a flicker of hesitation, before he reaches down to grab the hem of his white shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

You immediately freeze up.

Because holy shit.

He’s sculpted like a statue. Like Michelangelo said fuck this, let’s sculpt Mingyu. Even in your shitty apartment lighting, his golden skin radiates. You know that he’s strong𑁋you’ve seen the way his suit hugs his figure and how he walks around at work not realising he’s built like a Calvin Klein supermodel𑁋but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

Your eyes trace over the smooth lines of muscle over his body, over his chiseled torso and abs that look as if they’re carved from literal stone, over his stupidly kissable collarbones. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands. Or your lungs, at this point. 

When Mingyu notices how stunned you are, he blushes. Blushes.  

“I𑁋was that too fast?” he questions bashfully. “Sorry, I just thought𑁋”

“No,” You respond too quickly, still practically gawking at him like a Victorian woman seeing an ankle for the first time. “It’s okay. You’re just… a lot to take in.”

“Do you want me to put it back on?” he asks sheepishly.

A scandalised look crosses your face. “No. God, no. Don’t you dare.” You lean in to press a kiss over the skin covering his heart, one of your hands caressing down his stomach. You hear the sharp inhale that escapes him, and you smirk against his skin. “I love seeing you like this.”

You meet him back eye-level, reaching to grab the frames of his glasses, pausing for a moment to ask permission with your eyes. When he gives you the faintest of nods, you slide the glasses off his face and set them aside, and you’re met with the most beautiful, warmest, honey-brown eyes ever. 

You’ve seen his eyes before, obviously. But without the glasses, without the disguise, they’re more piercing than ever. You feel as if you’re staring into a pair of galaxies, and you could pinpoint all the stars within them. He isn’t just Superman. He’s also Mingyu. Your Mingyu.

“Hi,” You whisper.

He smiles bashfully. “Hi.”

You almost want to laugh. You’re both ridiculous. Because here you are, nervous like two hormonal teenagers and blushing like you weren’t close to dying not that long ago. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

Mingyu kisses the inside of your palm. “I think I’m freaking out. In a good way, of course.”

You smile at that, leaning in to press your forehead against his. You hear the shaky exhale that leaves him, before his head tilts to meet your lips again. You feel his fingers trail up your waist, pushing off the cardigan you’re wearing off your shoulders, as his mouth moves down even further.

Your breath hitches when you feel his lips meet the corner of your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, his fingertips hesitantly slipping underneath the hem of your top like he’s asking for permission to keep going. He’s giving you time to stop this if you want, but you don’t. You don’t want him to stop. 

You answer by lifting your arms up, letting him pull your shirt off to join the other clothes on the floor. You’re left in just your bra now, and Mingyu just stares.

He doesn’t pounce on you𑁋just lets his gaze roam over your form like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. His jaw tightens with restraint as he drinks you in, taking in even the tiniest imperfections that dot all over you, his hands adoring every sight of new skin being revealed to him. You barely have any sort of chance to feel self-conscious when he kisses you again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a line of kisses over your collarbone, the curve above your breast, and one above your heart. “Every part of you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m half-naked on top of you,” You retort playfully.

His brows draw together at that as he glances up at you mischievously. “I’m saying it because it’s true, sweetheart. The half-naked part is just a bonus.” 

Your laughter dissolves into a breathy sigh as his thumbs tread tenderly over your ribcage. You move your hips again𑁋just a subtle, completely unintentional grind on his lap, enough to have a sound that nearly resembles a whimper tumbling out of his throat, and his hands gripping onto your hips a little more tighter. 

“Sorry,” You murmur breathlessly, though there’s a sparkle of mischief in your eyes. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he breathes out, voice low and wrecked. “Never be sorry𑁋fuck, angel, you’re driving me crazy…”

It’s so hard to take in the fact that someone so powerful𑁋someone who literally has the power to lift up a tank on his shoulders as if it’s light as a feather𑁋is trying so hard to be so gentle with you. Like he’s terrified that one wrong move shatters you, when all you want him to do is pull you closer. 

Your fingers comb through his hair as he nuzzles his face in your shoulder, taking in the way you feel, smell, and taste. 

“Superman always takes care of everybody,” You start when it’s your turn to be littering kisses at the skin of his neck. “Saves the world, the city, strangers, me𑁋but… who takes care of you?”

He stills. Just for a second. His grip on your waist loosens imperceptibly, before tightening back. You see the way the question runs around his head as if it’s his first time ever being asked something so vulnerable. 

“I… I don’t know,” he answers unsurely. 

Your heart breaks and comes back together all at once.

“Then let me,” You insist softly. “From now on, from however long you want me, let me.”

Mingyu looks up at you with hopeful, puppy eyes. 

“And if I want forever?”

You give him a smile.

“I can do forever.”

You don’t know who leans in first. You don’t exactly know how the straps of your bra have fallen over your shoulder either. All you do know is that you’re suddenly underneath him this time, and he’s still kissing you. Hungrier. Needier. 

The bed dips slightly as Mingyu fully climbs on top now, one leg slotted between yours as you find yourself practically melting into the mattress. His body is the personification of a living furnace as his chest presses against yours, skin against skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

You roll your hips against him once more to chase that particular friction over the hardness of his jeans, and he has to muffle away a groan into your shoulder. He rocks himself up to meet you halfway with a low sigh into your neck, the two of you finding a rhythm that has heat spiraling down both of your bodies and for your brains to grow foggy. 

“You’re so𑁋shit, you’re so perfect,” he rasps, voice barely audible from the needy sighs spilling out of your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”

The muscles on his back tense when he feels your hands explore themselves over them, breath hitching against your throat. Your fingertips caress over the ridges of his spine, tracing the slope of his shoulder blades, curling into the soft messiness of his hair. Mingyu swears that perhaps you have your own kind of superpower𑁋of making him so undeniably, fondly, helpless for you. 

Bullets break in half when they hit him, he’s prevented literal buildings from falling over, and could bend steel with the singular twirl of his fingers. But when you’re here, underneath him, kissing him and making noises he’ll replay in his mind for the rest of his days, he turns into literal mush. Kryptonite isn’t the only thing that weakens him.

It’s you. 

“I think I understand it now,” he mutters against your skin.

Your body buzzes with heat as you look at him. “What?”

Mingyu pulls back to look at you, a lump bobbing in his throat. 

“Desire.”

He says the word like it’s some otherworldly discovery. As if he’s heard it from somewhere, maybe read about it, seen it when lovers skip down the streets with their hands clasped together. But he’s never felt it like this. Not until now. Not until you. 

“I never knew it could feel like this,” he says quietly. “This need to… touch you. Be close with you. Not just physically, but gosh, hearing your heartbeat makes me go insane.”

You giggle at that, and it sends a cheeky, silly smile crawling over Mingyu’s face. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh. You’re always so scarily serious all the time when you’re in your zone, but now? Now you’re all soft and radiant and so unfairly sexy in a way that makes him ache to know what other things he can make you feel. 

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu hovers above you, one hand propping him up beside your head and the other drawing circles near the waistband of your pants. “Yeah?”

“I want you,” You confess. It doesn’t come off shy, not anymore. “You… don’t have to hold back with me, okay? You can let go𑁋I want you to.”

That’s what undoes him right there. He gives you the most affectionate grin known to mankind. 

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes, a singular breath away from your lips. “Okay. Letting go. I… I can do that.”

This time, when he kisses you, it feels like you’re flying again.

Mingyu makes love to you just like how he fights𑁋with the same passionate fire in his veins and the protectiveness of someone willing to break himself before he ever lets harm touch you. And it isn’t just about pleasure; no, it’s about safety. It’s about surrender. Vulnerability. 

It’s about loving you with the same unrelenting force he uses to save the world𑁋this time, only softer. Sweeter. And only a certain type of love that belongs to you.

The second you check the time on your watch, the elevator dings in front of you. 

Your heels clack against the floor as you step inside with a sigh, pressing a button to your desired floor. Your bag is slung loosely over your shoulder, the strap threatening to fall off from the weight of your laptop and whatever the hell you have inside is. You’re too busy scrolling through your upcoming meeting agenda on your phone. The Daily Planet is as alive as ever for a Monday morning, but here, you’re lucky you can breathe for once. 

You catch sight of your reflection on the mirrored walls on the elevator before leaning back against the cold metal with a sigh, letting your eyes flicker close for a moment as the door starts to close. 

But before the doors are able to seal shut, there’s a sudden clang, and the metal shudders as if it’s been crushed with some kind of forceful pressure. 

You jolt in surprise as the elevator doors groan back open, revealing none other than Kim Mingyu clambering clumsily inside wearing an extremely apologetic expression on his face. He takes his hand off the elevator door, where you notice a visible dent had formed from what you assume to be how hard he grabbed the damn thing. 

“Shit,” Mingyu mutters, staring at the dent like a guilty puppy as the elevators struggle to close back again. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.”

You roll your eyes. “Gyu, that is literally government property.”

He winces at that. “I got too excited!”

“For what?”

“...seeing you.”

Your expression softens despite yourself, struggling to bite back a smile as Mingyu places himself right next to you, your shoulders momentarily brushing. His hair is a tad bit windswept from probably flying here, and his glasses slightly askew on his nose. Half of his dress shirt is tucked into a pair of dark slacks, his tie half-done, and yet, he still looks like the most kissable man on Earth right now.

As the elevator begins to rise slowly, Mingyu glances over at you too. 

“You look nice today,” he points out casually.

You blink, peering down at your own outfit. It wasn’t too much out of the ordinary𑁋just a more structured blazer, a formal blouse, a bit more effort in your makeup, and your hair styled in a way when you actually want to appear like you have your shit together.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat, warmth sprouting in your cheeks. “Got a meeting later in the afternoon with out-of-town journalists. Thought looking intimidating would make it go by faster.”

A grin crosses Mingyu’s face as his eyes roam over you once more. “Well, you do look intimidatingly hot, if I do say so myself.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Mingyu.”

“What?” His grin only widens. “Is flirting with my girlfriend a crime now?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s not effective at all with the way you’re suppressing a stupidly fond smile. “Flattery won’t fix this elevator door.”

“That’s totally unrelated.”

“It looks like a rhino charged head first into it.”

Mingyu chuckles sheepishly. “I’ll… fix it tomorrow, maybe. After hours. No one will know. Or I can bribe maintenance with cookies again.”

You could only scoff. He’s such a dork.

The elevator hums as it continues its ascent into the upper floors of the building. Right next to you, Mingyu’s hand brushes against yours. First by complete accident, second on purpose. You don’t pull away when his pinky nudges against yours. Instead, you allow your fingers to lace around his, and you immediately feel the way he relaxes. 

It’s quiet in the moments that follow, yet your heart is completely betraying you and you know he can hear it.

The two of you have been together for almost five months at this point, and yet, it feels like it’s only ever been day one. The hardest part was keeping your relationship a secret at first, especially from the newsroom, but then Minghao told you that you both have been fairly obvious ever since the kryptonite case. You didn’t even try to deny it because there was no point.

Especially not when Mingyu would sometimes hover outside your bedroom window, tapping gently on the glass to say hi before flying off on another rescue mission. Or when your coworkers always noticed the two of you walking in and out of the building together. Or when you’d randomly go missing for lunch and return all flushed, hair tousled, and somehow in a better mood. 

You turn to face him, letting go of his hand momentarily to fix his tie, tugging gently at the silk resting at the base of his throat. You feel his hands trail down your waist as he stands still while you tighten it. When your fingers brush over his collarbones, he tenses naturally, though he still wears that boyish smile to his face.

“Still meeting me for dinner tonight?” he asks.

You smooth out his dress shirt over his chest. “Depends. Are you flying me to Paris or Italy this time?” 

Mingyu hums contemplatively, his fingers tightening a little more around your waist. “Hm, I was thinking more like Greece. Or Japan, maybe. I know you’ve always wanted to go there. Heard it’s cherry blossom season over there.”

You tilt your head as you pretend to think. “Tough choice. Greek sunsets or Japanese cherry blossoms?”

“Baby, I could take you to both, you know.”

You snort, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Clearly you forgot we have actual jobs that require us to, I don’t know, show up.”

Mingyu sighs dramatically, pushing back some loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Right. Damn capitalism.” He lets his eyes roam over you adoringly. “Okay, how about just my place tonight?”

“Isn’t Wonwoo going to be there?”

“Don’t worry. He’s grown into the art of minding his own business.”

You grin at that. 

The ding of the elevator interrupts your banter, the doors𑁋still dented from his overly enthusiastic entrance𑁋sliding open to reveal the classic chaotic routines of the bullpen. Mingyu retracts his hand from your waist, straightening his posture in the hopes of masking away his besotted features. You flip back into your professional stance too, fixing your blazer and flicking a glance to the time on your watch.

The two of you step out onto the floor together. The frantic morning bustle of the newsroom quickly fills your senses: interns rushing by, the clattering of keyboards, a printer breaking down somewhere in the corner, and people yelling out deadlines in your ears. When you stop at your desk, you watch for a few seconds as Mingyu sidles past you to head to his own cubicle just a few steps down. 

However, just as you’re about to sit, a loud voice booms through the newsroom: Seungcheol.

“Mingyu! Y/N! Office now!” 

You freeze halfway in the seat, meeting Mingyu’s equally startled gaze across the room, his hand gripped around his rolling chair. Letting out an exhale, you set your bag down on your desk with Mingyu following behind you over to Seungcheol’s office.

The blinds of Seungcheol’s office are halfway drawn as the two of you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Seungcheol is sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pragmatic look to his face. He doesn’t even have to glance up as he cracks a manila folder open on the desk. 

“Alright, Bonnie and Clyde,” he starts as you and Mingyu sit down. “I’m pairing you up again.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, shooting a side-glance toward Mingyu, who looks just as curious and baffled as you are. It hasn’t even been long since the two of you were paired up on the kryptonite trafficking and Scarface incident, where near-death was just a slip away from your fingers.

Seungcheol opens the folder, revealing a cluster of surveillance photos from what look to be press conferences, a particular figure standing out in every single one.

“Recently, the President-elect has been appearing in places he shouldn’t be,” Seungcheol states, sliding the photos over the two of you.

“The President-elect?” You repeat, staring down at the images. “As in, President-elect Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Precisely,” Seungcheol responds eagerly. “He’s been spotted here in Seoul, then Metropolis, Gotham, Beijing, nearly everywhere.”

You lean in closer to photos, feeling Mingyu beside you do the same. Sure enough, there he is𑁋President-elect Yoon Jeonghan wearing his signature dark suit, waving gracefully at crowds, shaking hands with sick children in a hospital, all with that perfect charming smile on his face. He appears undeniably poised, pristine, and politically untouchable. There’s something quite eerie about it. 

However, there are also some photos taken from security cameras in the middle of inconspicuous dark alleyways, military divisions, and unregistered facilities. All the photos were taken in different locations around the world. But what catches your eyes are the timestamps on the photos.

They’re all merely hours or even minutes apart.

“That’s not humanly possible,” You remark incredulously. “Any information on travel records?”

Seungcheol shakes his head grimly. “Nope. His press team claims he’s been prepping for his inauguration in Seoul and only travelled three times the past five months. The intelligence team is pretty divided on digging even more about this. But I know when something isn’t right, and clearly this𑁋” He motions over the photos. “𑁋isn’t just normal presidential shenanigans. I need to know if the man who is about to lead this country is actually who he says he is.”

You and Mingyu exchange another look. He’s frowning now, jaw tense. You can practically see the gears turning in your head. It’s clear he’s thinking the same thing you are. 

This isn’t just a scandal, or a simple case of political corruption. It’s a threat waiting to detonate.

“Alright,” You say, clasping your hands together. “We’ll take it.”

“Good.” Seungcheol leans back in his chair. “But keep this off the record for now. We don’t want to cause a nationwide panic. Whatever you plan to write, take it up with me first. He’s still the goddamn President-elect, so watch your backs. Both of you.” 

“Yes, sir,” Mingyu states solemnly, already gathering back the photos in the folder.

“And look, I don’t care what the hell is going on between the two of you,” Seungcheol starts, eyes flitting between the two of you. “But I do know the last time I partnered you two, we broke the damn site’s traffic record and scored a Pulizter nomination in the process. So don’t disappoint me, alright? Meeting’s over.”

The two of you start to saunter your way out of Seungcheol’s office with materials gathered under both of your arms. However, just as Mingyu is about to close the door, Seungcheol calls out to him again.

“Kim! One more thing.”

Mingyu pauses with his hand still on the doorframe, poking a head back in the office. “Yes, sir?”

Seungcheol doesn’t look up from his papers he’s scavenging through, but his voice cuts through the room like a knife. 

“Try not to die this time, yeah?” 

It comes off way too casual for Mingyu’s liking, laced with that familiar gruff Seungcheol charm that’s gotten him through years of leading the newsroom and dealing with incorrigible employees. The man basically implied that he knows in some way, somehow. Mingyu’s jaw twitches from nerves, before easing into a tight-lipped smile. 

“Noted… uh, sir.”

Seungcheol waves him off curtly. “Amazing. Now get back to work.”

And so he does. Mingyu quietly shuts the door before sheepishly meandering his way over to where you’re already perched at your desk and setting the files down. You smile when you catch him coming up to you, and the look on your pretty face is quick to dissolve any lingering nerves he has.

“So, partner.” You place a hand on your hip. “Guess we’re working together again.”

“That seems to be the case, Cronkite,” Mingyu retorts teasingly. 

You tilt your head fondly at the nickname, peering up at him curiously.

“Are you ready for this?” 

Mingyu glances down at you. He doesn’t answer, not at first𑁋just takes you in with warm eyes as if you’re the centre of the damn universe, noticing every flicker of excitement and hint of worry that paints your features. He may be Superman, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel scared sometimes. 

Especially when it comes to you𑁋someone who he doesn’t just love, but someone who he would quite literally move through heaven and hell for. Someone who makes every mission worth surviving. Someone who he chooses again and again every damn day. 

You’re standing there in front of him with your lips pressed in that determined line he knows all too well. Brave. Brilliant. Unafraid to chase the truth even if it kills you. And God, he swears he falls in love with you all over again.

“With you by my side?” Mingyu starts, lips quirked up as he steps up closer to you. “I’m ready to take on anything, my love.” 

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[81evermore]

a bridesmaid's to do list, kim mingyu [teaser]

When your best friend Jihyo is getting married, you're nothing less than thrilled. Your excitement dies a little when you find out that your ex will be attending. Luckily, your friends have already found a solution!

🎵the only exception, paramore 🎵 you are in love, taylor swift 🎵margaret, lana del rey 🎵daylight, taylor swift

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader cw: alcohol consumption, strong language tags: (kind of)strangers to lovers, fake dating, fluff, a little bit of angst, he fell first and harder (yuppp), wedding au

You’re currently sitting on your couch, 3 wine glasses in. You lay your head on Seulgi’s shoulder, since she’s the only one sitting next to you. The girl’s talking to Seungkwan, who’s sitting on the floor in front of her. You can hear Vernon, Sana and Mingyu talking in the kitchen, probably pouring themselves more wine – you really can’t blame them. To be honest, you don’t even know what’s the occasion for this gathering, or where the rest of your friends went, but you’re way too busy sipping on your fourth glass of wine. The group that was in the kitchen walks back to the living room, and you’re making eye contact with Mingyu almost immediately.  

It’s not like you and Mingyu are friends. Of course, you know him – he's Vernon’s best friend after all, you’ve met him a handful of times. Neither of you interacted with each other much, except for group hangouts like this. You didn’t really know that much about Mingyu. You knew that he runs his own restaurant, which you had been to with Vernon multiple times. You knew that he has a cat, since Vernon took care of it when Mingyu was on vacation. To be completely honest – that might be all of your knowledge when it comes to Kim Mingyu. It does kind of make you jealous – seeing how effortlessly he strikes up a conversation with everyone in the room. Why does he never talk to you?  

You must have had a grimace on your face, because Seungkwan looked at you concerned. “Are you okay? You’re sulking” he nudged your calf with his foot. “What’s got you so worried?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about Jihyo’s and Joshua’s wedding” you didn’t completely lie – you were thinking about it, until Mingyu walked into the room. 

“Right, Jaehyun” Sana said in a cold voice. 

No one noticed, but Mingyu visibly perked up at the mention of your ex – if he’d been sober, then he would have tried to be much less obvious about it. Mingyu knew about Jaehyun and his actions, since Vernon had come to him numerous times, hoping that he would give him some advice on how to free you from the monster’s hands – Vernon's words, not his.  

“I just don’t want to see him at all. Also, I’m sure that he will try and talk to me. I’ve had to block his number four times, because he kept messaging me from new ones” you frowned, drinking all the wine left in your glass at once.  

“God, I don’t even have words to describe that filthy fucking-” you stopped Seulgi from continuing by placing your hand on her mouth. 

“Wait! I think I have a good idea!” Seungkwan exclaimed. “How about you and Vernon go to the wedding together and pretend to be a couple? Maybe he’ll leave you alone, since he was so insecure because of him?” he rolled his eyes while the last sentence left his mouth.  

“Aren’t we too old to do that? Besides, he would think that he was right. You know, accusing me of cheating on him with Vernon” 

“Why don’t you take Mingyu instead? He can be scary sometimes!” Vernon exclaimed, definitely proud of his idea. 

“I don’t know about that second thing” you snorted, making the rest of your friends laugh. 

“Hey! I can be scary if I want to! I’m tall and probably more handsome than Jaehyun! I can do it!” Mingyu pouted, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“Sure, buddy” Seulgi patted his shoulder.  

“Guys, don’t laugh at me! Y/N, I can do it! Seriously! I’ll be the best scary fake boyfriend on planet earth! He won’t even dare to look at you!” 

“Why do you want to do it so bad anyways?” you asked the man, visibly confused. 

“Because I really want to prove you guys wrong, and all of you will be there. I’m the only one that didn’t get an invite, and I get that it’s because I don’t even know Jihyo and Joshua that well, but I would be very sad if all of you were having fun and I was sitting at home. And obviously, I want to help you, Y/N” Mingyu said with a pout on his face, and after not receiving a response from anyone, he added “Well, also because I really love weddings” 

You could feel everyone’s eyes at you, curious about how you’ll respond to Mingyu. 

“Okay, let’s do it” you sighed. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt muscular arms wrapping you in a hug and lifting you up from the couch. 

“YES! You won’t regret this, Y/N!” Mingyu shrieked, spinning you around. 

The next two months will definitely be hard. 

an: ahhhh i'm so excited for this!! hope that u guys enjoyed this little teaser, the whole thing is currently in the works, hopefully it won't take too long <3 comment if u want to be added to the taglist, reblogs and comments will make me very very happy!!!

[w1w2]

Let Me In

Irene x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 5k

Synopsis: Behind the spotlight and polished smiles, one of Red Velvet’s members begins to struggle under the weight of unseen pressure. In the quiet of their shared space, love becomes both a question and an answer.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The apartment was quiet when they walked in, just the soft hum of the refrigerator, the faint tick of the wall clock, and the low click of the door shutting behind them. No lights turned on, no music, no casual joke thrown over a shoulder.

A stillness settled over the space like a heavy blanket, thick and unmoving.

Y/N didn’t say a word.

She moved on autopilot, bag sliding off her shoulder with a dull thud against the wall, her sneakers kicked off carelessly, one landing sideways, the other left crooked and half blocking the hallway. Her posture screamed exhaustion, but not the kind that sleep could fix, her shoulders drooped like something invisible was weighing her down.

She paused for a moment in place, hands hanging uselessly by her sides, eyes staring somewhere vague, somewhere far.

Then came the words, low and distant. 

“I’m gonna shower.” No inflection, no emotion. Just words tossed out like an afterthought.

She didn’t wait for a response, she didn’t look at Irene. She turned and walked down the hallway, towel already pulled from the door hook, bare feet ghosting over the wooden floor.

Normally, she’d linger. Say something dumb just to get a smile. Pull Irene’s hand, tease her, pretend she forgot something just so Irene would follow. On bad days, she’d still do the bare minimum, flop on the couch, fake a dramatic sigh, and wait for Irene to press a kiss to her temple.

But Tonight? Nothing, not even a glance back.

Irene didn’t move, she stood frozen in the entryway, fingers curled loosely around the strap of her purse, watching the place where Y/N had just been. The silence stretched, long and cold.

She tried to write it off “Long day, she’s tired, maybe she’s just overwhelmed.” But none of those excuses landed.They didn’t sit right.

Her gut twisted, a quiet ache starting to bloom in the space between her ribs. Not panic, no, not yet. Just that first drop in the stomach, the one that comes when someone you love starts closing a door you didn’t even know was there.

Something was wrong, and Irene could feel it in her bones.

The signs had been showing all day, subtle but steady, if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss them. But Irene had been paying attention.

At dinner, Y/N sat wedged between Wendy and Joy, her plate nearly untouched. She picked at her food, nudging rice around with her chopsticks like it was part of some quiet ritual. Three bites, maybe four, a small piece of meat, barely chewed before she swallowed and reached for her water like it was something bitter. She smiled when Joy teased her, laughed when Seulgi dropped her chopsticks and muttered a curse under her breath. But it didn’t reach her eyes, her eyes were tired.

Irene watched it all from across the table, close enough to notice, far enough that Y/N probably thought she wouldn’t.

When the others got distracted in conversation, Irene stayed watching. Her gaze landed on Y/N’s fingers, how they clenched around her napkin every time her phone buzzed on the table. She never picked it up right away, stared at the screen for a second, shoulders tight, jaw set.

Eventually, she gave in. One swipe to check the lock screen, one flash of something in her expression, Irene didn’t know what to call it. 

Pain? Disappointment? Something sharp. Too sharp for someone so soft.

Then the screen went black. The phone slipped back into her bag like it had burned her, and the mask came right back on.

Y/N made another effort at a smile when Wendy asked her a question, answered with that gentle lilt in her voice that always made people lean in. But her fingers stayed clenched in her lap the rest of the meal. She even laughed again when Joy pulled out some weird inside joke, but Irene could see the strain behind it. That split second where her smile faltered, just long enough to be real.

It was muscle memory at this point, pretending everything was fine, but Irene knew better.

Y/N was slipping.

And now, hours later, Irene could still feel the echo of that dinner, the weight of it sitting with her like a bruise that hadn’t quite faded.

Irene moved toward their bedroom, dropping her purse on the dresser with a soft thump before sinking onto the edge of the bed. She didn’t turn on the main light, just clicked on the small lamp by her side of the bed. A warm glow pooled softly across the room, barely chasing the shadows off the walls.

She pulled her knees up and folded her arms around them, chin resting lightly on top. Her eyes stayed fixed on the bathroom door across the hall, slightly ajar, a faint mist curling out around the frame.

The water ran steady in the background.

She waited.

It wasn’t impatience, it was a quiet kind of hoping. Maybe Y/N would come out and say something, maybe she’d crawl into bed and let herself be held. Maybe she’d fold into Irene the way she always did when her walls cracked just enough.

But that didn’t happen.

Eventually, the water shut off. A pause. Then the soft rhythm of movement, towel rustling, the creak of the cabinet, the tap of skincare bottles being shuffled around.

A few minutes later, the door eased open with a click. Y/N padded into the bedroom, wrapped in her oversized towel, damp hair clinging to her neck. She didn’t look at Irene, just moved toward the closet, pulled out a hoodie, and tugged it over her head before slipping into a pair of shorts.

Her silence stretched the whole time, thick enough to chew on.

Irene watched her carefully, picking up on every shift, the way she avoided eye contact, the slight tremble in her fingers as she brushed her hair back, how she tugged the hoodie sleeves over her hands like she wanted to disappear inside them.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Irene said softly, finally breaking the silence.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, not enough to be obvious, but just long enough for Irene to notice. Her back remained turned, her movements paused mid motion as if considering how much to say.

Then she spoke, casual and even, too practiced to be real. “Just tired.”

Irene let the words sit in the air for a moment before answering, her voice still soft but edged with something firmer, something that quietly refused to be brushed off. “You sure?”

Y/N’s hands stilled again, her fingers mid-way through gathering her damp hair into a loose bun. She didn’t look back. Didn’t meet Irene’s eyes.

“Yeah, Joohyun. I’m fine.”

And that name. Joohyun. landed like a stone in Irene’s chest. Not Hyun, not babe, not even unnie that Y/N used when she wanted to be spoiled.

Just Joohyun. 

Flat. Formal. Careful.

The kind of name someone used when they were pulling away, even if they were trying not to show it.

Irene didn’t respond right away. She just watched Y/N quietly retreat to the far side of the bed, lifting the covers, slipping under them without a word.

The days started to blur.

Wake up, schedule, perform, smile, collapse, repeat.

It wasn’t anything unusual on the surface, Red Velvet had been through busier times, but something in the rhythm had changed, and Irene could feel it like a draft sneaking through a cracked window. Not loud, not obvious. Just steady, cold.

Y/N wasn’t just tired anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.

She started coming home later than usual, ten minutes at first, then thirty, then over an hour. She never said where she’d been, and Irene didn’t always ask. Not because she didn’t care, but because she could already guess the answer.

Irene would be waiting in the living room most nights, curled up on the couch with the TV on low, the glow flickering across her face. Sometimes she’d make tea, just in case Y/N wanted some. Sometimes she’d scroll through her phone, pretending not to be watching the door.

And then Y/N would walk in.

“Sorry, lost track of time,” she’d mutter, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door like she hadn’t been avoiding the apartment for hours.

She didn’t sit beside Irene, didn’t steal a sip of her tea, didn’t collapse into her lap like she always used to after long days.

No hug, no kiss, no “I missed you.” She’d just head straight to the bedroom, shoulders stiff, head down.

The door never slammed, never locked. Just closed, quietly. That almost made it worse. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t even annoyance. It was distance wrapped in politeness, like she didn’t want to bother Irene with whatever she was carrying.

It was the kind of closed door that said she needed space.

And Irene? She heard it.

She sat there most nights in that silence, trying not to feel like a stranger in her own home. Trying not to take it personally, trying to understand without overstepping. But the ache in her chest was starting to feel permanent.

Irene tried.

She didn’t storm the walls, she didn’t pry. She just showed up, in small, steady ways. She’d bring Y/N tea before bed. Offer to run her a bath. Ask if she wanted to watch something, go for a walk, eat out somewhere lowkey.

Sometimes Y/N would agree. But lately, more often than not, it was just a shake of the head, a quiet smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and another “Maybe next time.”

So Irene started asking differently, trying to find cracks in the silence without pushing too hard.

“Are you okay?” she asked one night, her voice casual but weighted with quiet concern.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied without missing a beat, her tone light, practiced, a reflex more than a response.

Another day, Irene tried again, softer this time. “Do you want to talk? Just us?”

“I’m fine, really,” Y/N said, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

They weren’t harsh answers. If anything, they were soft, too soft. Like Y/N was trying to wrap her detachment in kindness so it wouldn’t hurt as much, like she was trying to protect Irene from her own unraveling.

But the thing about loving someone is, you know when they’re not okay, even if they say they are with the sweetest voice they can manage.

And Y/N’s voice was sweet, but it was full of cracks.

She stopped making eye contact when Irene asked those questions. She started walking past her with a hand on her arm or a kiss on the cheek, brief, like punctuation, not affection. She’d say she was tired, that she had a headache. Say she needed a few minutes alone, and those minutes always turned into hours.

“I’m just tired.” “Don’t worry about it.” “I can handle it.”

At first, Irene let it slide. Maybe she really was tired, maybe a little space would help.

But it kept happening, and each time Y/N said those things, Irene heard the real meaning behind them a little more clearly.

“I’m just tired.” mean “I don’t have the energy to talk about what’s hurting.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” was the synonym of “You shouldn’t have to carry this too.”

Irene never blamed her. She just wanted to wrap her in her arms, tell her she didn’t have to fight invisible battles with her fists clenched in the dark. But every time she got close, Y/N would gently pull away, never rude, never cold, just distant. Careful, too careful.

And Irene didn’t know how to break through that without shattering something. So she stayed quiet. 

For now.

It was a Thursday night, and the apartment felt colder than usual.

Y/N had gone to bed early again, another quiet “I think I’ll just lie down” said halfway through Irene asking if she wanted to order takeout. She hadn’t even touched the dinner Irene made, only pushed the rice around and mumbled something about a headache.

Now the bedroom door was closed, not slammed, just closed.

Irene sat alone on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, the untouched food still on the coffee table in front of her. Some drama played quietly on the TV, but she wasn’t watching, not really. She kept checking the hallway like Y/N might change her mind, come back out, maybe curl up beside her and say what was really going on. But the silence stayed.

Her phone buzzed once on the armrest.

Then again.

Irene glanced down. A couple of notifications, nothing urgent, but one of them had her name. A tagged post. A fan account. Something about Red Velvet’s most recent appearance.

She didn’t usually check those things this late, but her thumb moved on its own. Curious Or maybe just hoping for something to make the silence less heavy.

She tapped in, and wished she hadn’t.

Y/N was trending, but not in celebration, not in the fun, “queen of duality” kind of way.

The comments hit like a slap.

“She’s not Red Velvet material. SM should’ve never added her.”

“She doesn’t fit. It’s like she’s from a different group.”

“Can someone tell her she’s not the main character?”

“Why does she talk so much? Always trying to be the center.”

Irene scrolled, each word heavier than the last. Her throat tightened, her stomach twisted.

She put the phone down slowly, like it might shatter if she moved too fast. It slipped from her fingers and landed beside her on the couch with a dull, final thud.

The TV played on, but she couldn’t hear it anymore. Just noise, just static behind the sound of her own heartbeat, thudding harder now in her chest, in her throat. Irene stared at the screen, the faint reflection of her own face staring back at her, soft in the glow, but tired. Her eyes looked hollow, jaw clenched, shoulders tense in a way they hadn’t been even during the most brutal training days.

She blinked slowly, once, twice.

There was no anger in her, no. She wasn’t mad at Y/N, not even a little. But she was hurting, because she saw it now. All of it.

The closed doors, the rushed excuses, the fake smiles, the way Y/N had started using her real name like a wall between them. The way she said “I’m fine” like it was a line she’d rehearsed, not a truth she believed.

And all the while, she'd been breaking, quietly. 

Alone.

The girl Irene loved more than anything was crumbling right behind a door just a few steps away and pretending she wasn’t.

That was what broke Irene’s heart the most. Not the comments, not the silence. But the fact that Y/N thought she had to go through it alone. That she couldn’t come undone in front of her, that she didn’t feel safe leaning into her anymore.

Irene inhaled, shaky and shallow. This couldn’t keep going like this, something had to give. She wasn’t going to wait any longer.

The hallway felt longer than usual as Irene made her way down it, every step sinking with the weight in her chest. It wasn’t just the dim lighting or the late hour, it was the stillness. The kind that made your ears ring, the kind that followed hurt left unspoken.

She stopped in front of their bedroom door and rested her hand on the knob. It wasn’t locked, it never was. But something about turning it felt like asking permission.

The soft glow from the bedside lamp spilled out beneath the door, warm and golden, the kind of light meant to be comforting. But through the silence, it only felt… sad. Like a light left on for someone who forgot how to come home.

She exhaled slowly.

Then she turned the handle, the door opened without a sound, and the room greeted her with more silence.

Y/N was on the bed, facing the wall. Blankets curled around her. One arm tucked beneath her head, the other draped over the edge of the bed. Her back rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, too slow, too steady.

Irene’s heart ached.

She knew what pretend sleep looked like, knew the difference between the softness of peace and the stillness of someone just trying to disappear.

Irene stepped inside, her footsteps quiet against the floorboards. She closed the door gently behind her with a soft click, sealing the silence in with them. Then she moved toward the bed, sitting down on the edge with care, leaving enough space so it wouldn’t feel like pressure.

Her eyes stayed fixed on Y/N’s back. The curve of her spine beneath the hoodie, the way her fingers were curled into the blanket like she needed something to hold onto.

Irene didn’t speak right away. She just sat there, close enough to reach her, but far enough to let her decide. She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them, thumbs absently tracing the edge of her sleeve. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, and her thoughts were louder.

This wasn’t a moment to fill with words, not yet.

So she let the silence settle between them, not to create distance, but to offer something that had been missing. A quiet, open space where Y/N could choose to let her in.

The quiet had stretched long enough that it began to hum in Irene’s ears, vibrating with everything that hadn’t been said. The weight of it pressed against her ribs, made the air feel thinner.

She glanced at Y/N’s back again, took in the way her shoulder blades sat high and stiff, how her knuckles had turned pale from gripping the edge of the blanket too tightly. It wasn’t rest, it was restraint. The kind that comes when you're trying so hard not to break.

Irene shifted slightly, folding one leg beneath her on the bed. Her voice, when it came, was soft but steady.

“You don’t have to talk,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Still, Y/N didn’t move. Her body didn’t tense or relax. It just stayed, like she was trying to disappear into the mattress, like staying still was her last form of defense.

But Irene saw the truth anyway. She always had.

Her eyes dropped to Y/N’s hands again, clenched into the bedding like it was anchoring her in place. Like if she let go, the dam would break.

Irene swallowed.

“I know you think you have to be strong all the time,” she said, slower this time. Her voice dipped into something deeper.

“But not with me, not here.”

There was a beat. A hitch in Y/N’s breathing, then a soft, bitter exhale.

Irene barely caught the words when they came.

“I said I’m fine, Joohyun.”

And there it was. Not the words themselves, but how she said them, tired, guarded, laced with something between guilt and grief. As if admitting anything else would make her weak. As if “fine” was a wall that could hold everything together.

That name again.

No sweetness, no softness. Just the distance tucked inside her full name, like a subtle push meant to keep Irene at arm’s length. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t cruelty. But it was careful. And that hurt in a way Irene couldn’t describe, because it wasn’t rejection, it was fear disguised as strength.

She could’ve pulled back, could’ve let it go.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she leaned in, just slightly. Her voice didn’t rise, it didn’t sharpen, it trembled with love, with worry, with the ache of watching someone you adore fall apart piece by piece.

“Then why do you look like the world’s crushing you?”

The words settled into the room like dust, and for a moment, neither of them breathed.

Y/N didn’t answer, but something shifted.

Her shoulders drew in tighter, her spine curling inward like she was trying to fold into herself. Her fingers had loosened from the blanket, just barely, but her hands now lay still, open, like she’d run out of strength to hold on.

The silence between them was no longer gentle. It was suffocating. And Irene knew, this wasn’t the time for more space, this wasn’t something Y/N could carry alone, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Irene shifted slowly, deliberately, like she was moving through water. She leaned forward, closing the distance between them inch by inch until her chest was just barely brushing against Y/N’s back.

And then, quietly, gently, she wrapped her arms around her.

Not tight, not urgent. Just there.

Her hands slid beneath Y/N’s arms and found her waist, settling like they belonged there. Her head tucked into the curve between Y/N’s shoulder blades, the scent of her shampoo still clinging to her damp hair. Irene breathed her in like it was the only thing grounding her.

She fit there, perfectly, like she'd done it a thousand times. Like her body knew this shape before her mind did.

Y/N’s breath hitched the second Irene touched her. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but Irene felt it. The subtle shift, the crack forming in the stillness. The tension in Y/N’s spine wasn’t gone, but it wavered. Her back rose unevenly beneath Irene’s cheek, like she was trying to keep control and losing that grip with every second Irene held her.

Her voice came out low, nearly a whisper, full of quiet truth.

“I see you, Y/N.”

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead lightly against the soft cotton of Y/N’s hoodie.

“Even when you try to hide.”

Her arms tightened, not enough to suffocate, just enough to hold. To remind her she wasn’t alone. Her fingers curled gently into the fabric, grounding herself in the warmth of Y/N’s body.

“I’m right here,” Irene whispered. “Please, talk to me.”

At first, it was stillness.

One breath, then another.

Irene thought for a moment she might’ve asked too much. Pushed too far, but then she felt it, so faint it could’ve been imagined.

A tremble.

Y/N inhaled sharply, and her breath collapsed mid way through like a wave breaking against rock. She exhaled with a sound that wasn’t quite a sob, not yet, but it was close, too close.

The sound tore out of her, a single, shattered breath that cracked open into a sob she couldn’t contain. Her body jolted in Irene’s arms, shoulders shaking violently as the dam finally gave way. Her fingers scrambled for something to hold onto before she turned around in a blur of movement, burying herself in Irene without a word.

There was no hesitation.

Her arms wrapped around Irene tight, almost crushing, like she needed to be held together by force. Like she didn’t trust herself to stay in one piece unless Irene was holding her there. Her face pressed into the crook of Irene’s neck, hot tears seeping into her skin. Her breath came in ragged sobs, one after another, pouring out everything she’d been trying to swallow for days.

“I just,” she gasped, voice broken and small, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Irene didn’t flinch, didn’t speak right away. She just held her, anchored her. One hand cradled the back of Y/N’s head, fingers threading gently through her hair. The other rubbed slow circles into her back, steady, rhythmic, grounding. Her own eyes stung, but she blinked them clear. Y/N needed her strong right now. Present.

“You’re not,” she whispered, brushing her lips against her temple. 

“You never are.”She tightened her arms just slightly. “Not to me.”

The sobs faded slowly, like a storm rolling off into the distance. Y/N’s breathing was still uneven, but steadier now, less like she was falling apart, more like she was starting to come back to herself.

They lay curled into each other under the blanket, bodies tangled naturally, as if the only way either of them could sleep was like this.

Irene stayed close, never letting go. One hand rubbed slow, gentle circles on Y/N’s back, her thumb brushing along the fabric of her hoodie, up and down in a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. The other was laced with Y/N’s fingers, their hands nestled between them.

When Irene finally spoke, her voice was a whisper, like something sacred. 

“Let them talk.”

Y/N blinked against her shoulder, eyes red and heavy.

“They don’t know you,” Irene said. “They don’t get to define you.”

She leaned in, pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, then her cheek, each one slow, unhurried. Each one saying I love you, I’ve got you, I’m here.

“You’re mine,” she murmured into her skin. “You’re ours, you’re more than enough.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, the sound small but real. “You’re kinda cheesy, unnie.”

Irene grinned against her cheek. “You love it.”

“I do,” Y/N admitted, voice still a little hoarse. “A lot.”

They shifted slightly, adjusting into an even tighter hold. Y/N’s head tucked beneath Irene’s chin now, her hand curled loosely at Irene’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall. The safety of it.

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Irene whispered, words soft as breath. “Ever. Not even a little.”

Y/N didn’t answer, but the way she pressed her face closer said enough. She breathed in deep and let it go, like she hadn’t been able to do that in days.

Then Irene added, “And if I ever catch you reading those comments again, I’m throwing your phone in the toilet.”

Y/N let out a tired, half-snorted laugh. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would, with a smile.”

Y/N smiled back, eyes still wet, but finally peaceful. “You’d cry after.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” Irene muttered, brushing her thumb under Y/N’s eye. “But the point stands.”

They shared a few more soft kisses, no urgency, no need. A kiss to Y/N’s forehead, one to the tip of her nose, a lingering one to her lips that didn’t ask for anything but closeness.

Eventually, Y/N’s breathing slowed even more, the tension finally ebbing out of her limbs. She blinked a few times, heavier with each one, until her eyes fluttered shut for good. Her hand stayed in Irene’s. And for the first time in days, she looked like she might sleep without a weight on her chest.

Irene stayed awake a little longer, just watching her. Watching the calm settle on her face like a prayer answered.

“Mine,” she whispered again.

Then she closed her eyes, and let the peace hold them both.

Morning arrived gently, without fanfare or noise, just a slow bloom of light pressing through the curtains and spilling into the room like a soft promise. It was the kind of light that didn’t demand anything, that let you wake on your own terms, no harsh edges, no urgency.

Irene stirred first.

For a moment, she stayed still, her body still curled protectively around Y/N’s. Her arm was tucked under the younger girl’s head, slightly numb but unmoving, while the other rested at her waist. Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, the covers pushed down in their sleep, revealing the faint warmth of skin and fabric where comfort had finally settled in.

Y/N hadn’t moved much, and for the first time in what felt like days, her face was completely at peace, no furrowed brows, no clenched jaw, no tightness behind her eyes. Just the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of sleep, her lips parted slightly, her body soft and unguarded in a way that made Irene’s chest ache with quiet relief.

She didn’t want to get up. Part of her could’ve stayed like that forever, just holding, watching, breathing in the fragile stillness of their shared safety.

Eventually, she eased out of bed, careful not to wake her. She padded barefoot through the apartment, grabbing a blanket from the edge of the bed to wrap around her shoulders as she moved. The air was cool, the kind that nipped at your skin before the day fully warmed, and she welcomed it, something crisp and real after the storm of the last few days.

In the kitchen, she moved slowly, deliberately, letting the silence fill the space as she started breakfast. Nothing complicated. Just something warm, something familiar, soft scrambled eggs, a little rice, toast with too much butter, and a sliced apple the way Y/N liked, peeled and fanned out neatly.

Irene didn’t need her to say thank you, she just needed her to wake up to something kind.

It wasn’t long before she heard the quiet shuffling of feet behind her. She didn’t turn right away. She didn’t have to. Y/N wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, pressing her face into Irene’s shoulder, still half asleep and warm from bed. Her hoodie sleeves swallowed her hands, and her voice came out soft, raspy from sleep and last night’s tears.

“Morning,” she whispered, like the word itself might break the stillness between them.

Irene turned in her arms and met her gaze, tired eyes, a swollen face from crying, messy hair, and somehow still the most beautiful thing Irene had ever seen. She reached up, cupped Y/N’s cheek, and leaned in to kiss her slowly, deliberately, like a quiet reassurance.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured against her lips, voice low with affection. “Did you sleep okay?”

Y/N nodded, barely. “Yeah, better than I have in a while.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment. They just stood there, holding each other, letting the warmth between them say everything that didn’t need to be repeated. There was nothing grand about the way they fit together, no cinematic swell of music, no dramatic line, just quiet familiarity, like coming home after being gone for too long.

“Thank you,” Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a breath, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it. “For last night, for staying.”

Irene pulled her closer, fingers brushing lightly through the ends of her hair. “There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m always going to stay, you don’t have to earn that.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry again, not from sadness, but from the strange, overwhelming relief of being fully seen and still chosen.

They sat down to eat together at the small table, knees brushing beneath it, their bodies still close enough to touch but not needing to cling anymore. There was a kind of stillness between them now that didn’t feel empty. It felt safe.

Halfway through breakfast, Irene glanced up and said, completely serious, “By the way, I meant what I said. If I ever see you scrolling through those comments again, I will drop your phone in the sink.”

Y/N laughed, a real one this time, messy and warm and a little nasal from crying too much the night before. “You’re bluffing.”

“Try me,” Irene said, smirking, but her voice was still soft, still loving.

Y/N reached across the table and laced their fingers together. “You’re dramatic.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Y/N said, smiling without hesitation now. “God, I really do.”

When they finished eating, they lingered at the table longer than they needed to, fingers still linked. Y/N didn’t look at her phone once. She didn’t check notifications, she didn’t apologize.

She didn’t have to.

And later, when she lay back down on the couch with her head in Irene’s lap and her eyes fluttering closed again, Irene leaned down and kissed her temple, whispering,

“You’re not a burden. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Y/N didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. She just held Irene’s hand a little tighter, her breathing even and slow, finally unafraid of being held.

[writingmochi]

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. red velvet's seulgi, exo's kai, and original characters)

synopsis: a teenager with tormenting demons following behind her moves to a new school when she encounters a boy who has his own set of demons. together, they confide with one another's similarities as well as through music when the boy introduces the teen to his current obsession: the dreamy pop soundscape of moonstruck.

genre: coming of age, realistic fiction, bildungsroman, slice of life, drama, romance, high school au, early 2000s au, angst, fluff, mature content (bullying, harassment, explicit smut)

inspired by: music radiohead's "motion picture soundtrack" (2000), movie all about lily chou-chou (2001) and literature “heaven” by mieko kawakami (2009)

word count: 46372 (46.3k)

warning(s): physical and verbal bullying, sexual harassment and assault, suicide attempt, murder (please don't read if you can get triggered), familial neglect, descriptions of blood, bruises, wounds, and scars, drug consumption (cigarette, mentions for alcohol, marijuana, and other hard drugs), piercing(s) and sharp objects, crowd crush, mention of parent infidelity, mention of sugar dating/enjo-kōsai, mention of debt and being hunted by debt collectors, two smut scenes (soft sex and rough sex), loss of virginities (m&f), hand job (m&f receiving), oral (m&f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, spanking, marking, breath play (choking), subspace

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

this is my first fic since april 2024 my god! genuinely sorry. turns out my exchange program is much more overwhelming that i just can't seem to have the motivation to write and finish drafts. it is also a birthday fic from me to you guys! if you plan to read this, thank you for giving it a chance and hope you enjoy it!

motion picture soundtrack | trailer part of the frequency modulation anthology | an entry for discovery: 400

moonstruck: a solo female korean singer-songwriter known for the genres of dream pop, folk, new age, neo-psychedelia, ambient. inspirations: lily chou-chou, meaningful stone, ichiko aoba releases mentioned: windswept / breathe / angels

a sterile hum filled the space. clicks and clacks are followed in a chaotic rhythm.

pausing. clicks. pausing. clacks.

《hello》 《i didn’t know that there is a place like this before》 《from: bambi

the shine of the monitors reflects onto the iris. the blueish screen that lit up the room, letting the moon’s image show up on the edges of his sight before returning to focus on the incoming messages.

《a newcomer!》 《welcome to the space station》 《where people gather to talk about moonstruck》 《from: pearl

he gazes at the poster hanging behind his thick monitor: the printed moon seemingly glowing for him, yet it is because of the beam that is hitting the image on the correct spot. he follows the light beam from outside to then meet the sight of the real moon painting the outdoor sky. the guitar chords continue to play as the noise of the whirling cd is gone and covered by the beautiful masterpiece. his vision returns towards the screen as he scrolled upwards with his mouse. the boy skim-reads multiple conversations that have taken place in this virtual room.

《listening to moonstruck just feels... different》 《it is like you are floating》 《from: silver

《truly the greatest musician to have ever lived on this earth》 《from: 1004

《moonstruck is not even an earthling》 《she is just the moon personified》 《both its calmness and chaoticness. blessing us to the greatest music ever made》 《from: pearl

the boy glances back to see the familiar name, a smirk forming on his face. maybe this is the perfect place for him to go to. a perfect place to not think about everything and to just fully embrace what moonstruck has shaken within his soul. that is when he heard the piercing sound of the ringtone plays as he turns around.

gulping down his saliva, he lets out a huge sigh before pressing the button and pressing it against his ear. the voice that lingers in his mind calls to him as he stays quiet—letting the spoken message enter his ear and capture every detail as possible. the call ends not even a minute later. he lets out an exhale before returning to the keyboard, typing back his response.

《thank you, pearl》 《i will try to be active more here》 《from: bambi

he grabs his light backpack and stands up from his wheeled desk chair, seeing the box that forms the webpage become blurry as the colours melt together. brushing his hair for the last time, he stepped outside to do what he needed to do under the navy sky. the moon protecting him once more.

-

black shoes coming into vision as they both take steps in succession. the breeze of the spring weather blows, letting the new school uniform shake and move against the body that wears it. the third uniform in the past two years, and a new school logo every semester.

the socks cover right above your ankles enough that it won’t make you shiver as you continue striding towards the school you will be attending. your eyes gaze at the stores still with their entrances covered either by metal doors or wooden panels. a few of them being unlocked and uncovered as you went past them; a new day of business for this side of town. though, this is your first time seeing them with your eyes.

the steady drum rhythm enters your ears as you hold on to your cd walkman, decorating your morning in this unfamiliar place you only just arrived in a mere two days ago. then, you hear the other footsteps around you getting louder. looking ahead, you gaze at the girls wearing the same uniform outfit as yours. most with their alterations, such as the unbuttoned-up shirt all throughout and the little amount of shirt untucked from inside the skirt. your eyes continue to look downwards and forward, continue your journey to the class and, at least, meet up with your homeroom teacher first.

entering the gates, you gaze at the enormous field for football practice as you notice the goalposts on both ends. some students are playing there while others watch, waiting for the bell to ring as they sometimes glance at the large clock placed above the gate. the sound of guitar wailing in your ears creating a shield for you and the words spoken by students you passed by. nevertheless, few words come to seep through the barrier as you continue to walk.

“that’s the new student in year 2.”

“i heard that she was number one in her previous school.”

“but isn’t her school not that good though, especially compared to us?”

“yeah, well. i heard that she’s filthy rich.”

“really? nothing of her look speaks rich.”

“maybe it’s intentional?”

you continue to walk as you let your face rest in its default state, taking a deep breath in as you stop yourself to shake your head; to not let them show that this affects you.

not again.

but, deep down, you know it will. word spreads between people fast as you have recognised from time to time.

the talk of a new family renting such a dilapidated, out-of-place large house with a large courtyard area outside of the known residential area. the couple’s appearance has the looks that could compare to the celebrities seen on magazines. there is also a rumour on how the matriarch of the new family slept with the vice principal so her daughter could get into the good high school of the town—something you wish you could actually forget about as you can still hear the moaning sound from the other room when you’re setting up your personal computer set. the patriarch is nonchalant about it in the dining room whilst reading the newspaper as the voices reverberate throughout the house, knowing that he will and is doing the same with other women for the sake of his, his wife, and his family’s status. to uphold it and keep that image going on.

well, you aren’t even going to be surprised if the rumours you left behind from the other town come to chase you here too. especially with the many acquaintances you have from school only to be left stunned by the sudden announcement of your departure, but also the people who have tormented said family smiling widely on their faces as they see you all go away in a hurry.

knocking on the door gently, the voice inside signals you to slide the door as you enter the room full of teachers. your eyes gaze at the many adults sitting at their desks, opening and checking their files, preparing their books and notes for the upcoming classes of today.

“ah, new kid.” you turn your head towards the side to find a male teacher in a jumpsuit. one of the teachers mom and dad sit across from as they talk about you entering this new school alongside that vice principal mom hooks up with to get you a seat here. coach kim as you remember what he likes to be called because you sat closest to him in the whole discussion.

“what class did you get?”

“uh...” you press the stop button on your cd walkman before speaking, “2-2.”

“ah, seulgi’s class.” coach kim pushes his legs on the ground, his chair moving towards the front of your pathway from the half-wall maze-like desks as he gazes at the female teacher by the window. her hair tied into a lousy ponytail with her head tilted to gaze at the desk.

“seulgi-nim.” her head turns to follow the call of her name, looking annoyed at coach kim before lifting her eyes to look at you standing by coach kim’s desk.

“oh, (y/n). come, come.” she gestures with her hand as you turn your body towards the coach, bowing your body with a quick spoken “thank you” as you walk towards who you assume is your homeroom teacher. by the looks of it, miss kang—as you read from the document in the mail you’ve gotten—seems to be pretty young. maybe in her early 30s with a youthful presence that can make her blend in with the students here.

“g-good morning.” you bow your head as soon as you arrive by her table. miss kang lets out a smile that also makes her eyes smile. something that warms your heart because you never meet someone that excited to see you. yes, not even your parents who are particularly too focused on themselves.

“(y/f/n), yes? or (y/n) is fine?” she glances at your nametag that you handsewn into your school blazer.

“(y/n) is fine.” you echo back. your voice meek to follow her gentle voice. the sight of the wind brushing against the growing leaves makes it much more magical to peer at. you glance down as you catch sight of a folder with your name opened up, transcripts of your scores from your previous two schools displayed there in handwriting.

“welcome to woonmyung high school. i suppose you have gotten your class schedules?” you nodded to her answer, looking back to gaze at her eyes as you ignored the scarily bad score you’d gotten on the paper she was definitely observing. the history of the multiple times you’ve been mugged of your homework before resulting in them being that bad. it’s a miracle that you still do your tests well even with the many sabotages you’ve endured.

“i will bring you to class as we also announce things that will be happening in the new semester.” the chair is pushed back as she stands up, organising the messy paper and folders back onto the shelf beside her desk.

“ok,” you replied with an exhale, tucking the headset wrapped around your neck as you carefully put it alongside your walkman inside your backpack. you could see the tears it has near the seams: your trustee backpack that has been by your side since a long time ago. it has stains of dirt and other condiments on it that you could not count because of the multiple times it was thrown around and things thrown onto it. zipping it up, the sound of the bell ringing makes you jump as you turn your head towards the corridor—staring through the window as you watch multiple students walk into their classes in a hurry and even in calm.

you step into the corridor when it is empty—trying to take in the path to your classroom but get distracted by the view you peek through from the many classroom windows. you catch the various sounds of teachers talking about this week’s homeroom things with the students settled in their individual chairs and tables. some of them put the information on the board and the other thinks speaking about it is enough for the students to take in. your path follows that of miss kang as her walk seems much more like a glide even though she wore such a tight skirt. her walking pace slows down as you tidy your uniform once again, tugging your skirt down so that you won’t get any wardrobe malfunctions before the familiar sound enters your ear as you look forward to finding the class door labelled 2-2 opens to the side with the woman now out of your sight.

the commotion becomes quiet as miss kang steps inside first. the students looking at her as she speaks her greeting before they turn their heads towards the door that she didn’t close. they peek to the door to find your static figure as you pause yourself like you are being spotlighted.

then it started.

snickers. giggles. whispers.

the familiar sounds you’ve heard all the time settling onto some of them as you shift your head to catch miss kang looking at you. gulping down your saliva, you step inside the classroom and carefully slide the door closed.

taking in the classroom clearly, your eyes landed on the empty table two rows from the cupboard at the back of it where students put their belongings. the lights from the sun coming in from the windows in rays that lighted some people while shrouding others. but you can still feel eyes on you as you walk the walk you’ve experienced multiple times in your young life once again.

“we have a new student, everyone.” miss kang said before her hand rested on your lower back, signalling you to continue the usual steps.

“g-good morning. my name is (y/n). i do hope you will treat me well.” you bowed your body near a 90-degree angle, lasting for around three seconds as you slowly blinked and lifted your body upright. hoping that, yes, they do they will treat you well this time. even though you know it won’t by the looks on some faces as they are holding back on expressing something.

“thank you, (y/n). please, take your seat.”

you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling your cheeks getting warm as the usual tingling caresses your skin once again from the gazes of your new classmates. eyes gazing at the empty table, they trail to the familiar item on the table behind it. shifting quickly, you glance to find a similar cd walkman to the one you own resting on the table. trailing further upwards, you found the owner.

he is wearing the school’s navy blazer but minus the vest you’re wearing. the first two buttons of his uniform shirt open where you could see the inner light grey t-shirt peeking out. his eyes are wide and his hair is styled so that a few strands at the front frame his forehead well. his full lips are a bit chapped before you take a quick glance at the eyebags underneath his wide brown eyes. you reach your desk too fast to gather any information about a name, turning your body towards the front to avoid suspicions but you could hear the movement behind you. the sound of something moving on the wooden table as you gaze at the desk with a drawer underneath it. the number on the desk’s corner telling you of the cupboard you can put your belongings into. textbooks, notebooks, stationery, and more.

putting the backpack down inside the desk’s legs, you tidy up the skirt’s fabric against your thighs as you settle down on the chair where you will sit the rest of the semester. miss kang continues to talk about what is usually talked about in the homeroom session as you rummage to get your things out for the lesson after this. ignoring the many glances and whispers you know are targeting you.

the class has gone well for most of the part because you ignored them, well, nearly all. you just move your head and body enough for you to be able to read what is written on the blackboard with the chalk’s unstable clarity. the snickers continue as you focus on the board at the front. that is when you catch a folded paper coming into your vision from your right side and landing on your table.

twisting your head to glance at where it comes from, you find a boy sitting beside you only with his unkempt uniform on. his eyes gazing at you with a squint in it. the corners of his eyes becoming more of a straight line as you watch him smirk. eyes moving from your bewildered face to the note on your table. focusing out of him; you notice other boys in seats around him doing the same thing. looking at you like predators.

quickly, you pick up the note as you place it on your lap, thumbs on either side of the fold and push it open.

hey newbie. you definitely look better without the uniform on.

heat rises once again to your cheeks as you take a small glance at them before you hear another snicker coming from near the corner of the room by the door. a group of girls who are also looking at you with looks that seem so distinct from the boys. yes, you received notes like this with such disgusting words. but never one that seemed to imply something sexual. swallowing the saliva gathered on your tongue, your fingertips rub against the paper. to rip it up like you should do, to hide it like you would always do before, or to leave it be so that the teacher could see it.

your hands quickly move as you finish taking in all options: folding it back and tucking it into the drawer underneath. it earns you more chuckling from the boys and girls as you just want to hide away in the darkest corner of this school you could ever find. instead of wanting more attention to you, you cower into your seat and grab your pencil once again. tucking your head near your chest so that nobody could see just how flustered and shameful you are.

the snicker also comes from the boy sitting behind you, taking a small peek at him with his messy desk before his eyes move towards the boy seated beside you. observing their interaction, one glance from the boy beside you quiets the snicker of the boy behind you, adding the description of this boy’s power dynamic upon people. the boy behind you has the corner of his lips falling down, his head hanging low as his bangs covered the top half of his face. returning your sight back to the front of the class, you continue to make yourself small, taking as little space as possible for movement, until the class is finished.

as the teacher said his farewell, students flocked towards the door as they headed towards somewhere for the lunch break. you went back to the cupboard to put the books inside before you pulled out something from your backpack: the lunch box filled with food you created for yourself this morning. feeling the condensation of the hot meal against the lid, you lifted it open to smell the tasty aroma of kimchi fried rice that makes you drool. resting your backpack on the cupboard so you can settle back to your seat, you lifted your lunch box and turned your body, slamming onto another hard surface as you picked up gasps coming from around you.

the sound of your utensils landing on the floor follows with a big splat from your lunch box as you see the red of the kimchi staining the tile floor. your head lifted to see someone in a similar outfit to you but with a big red stain and grains of rice on her blazer. your vision landed on the nametag of jung seona.

“what the fuck, bitch?” her voice makes you look at the face it is from. eyes widening to recognize her as one of the girls who were also looking at you and snickering with the boys. and so are the three girls around her and you, caging you in. you knew that this would eventually happen. that they would accidentally slam onto you to spill your food on them. but not on your first day being here.

“i, i’m so sor-“

“sorry doesn’t cut it,” seona says, her grimace combined with a hidden grin you could recognize as you know you can’t do anything when you are being surrounded. her finger points at you, “you have to pay for this. for the laundry, at least.”

you wanted to open your mouth when one girl beat you to it, lifting your backpack as she shook it so the contents fell down. your hair clip, your cd walkman, your wallet, and your phone with silver strap and star decorations on it. you wanted to grab onto the walkman when hands grab onto your own arms and shoulders as they held you still. hearing the click of the tongue, you watch another girl—risoo from her nametag—giggling as she pulls out the cash you only have in your wallet. a 1000 won banknote in her hand as she gave it seona standing behind you.

“that should be enough,” she said.

“enough and more.” seona replied and giggled.

“also fucking disgusting of you to drop food like that,” another girl said as she lets go of you, making you tumble and fall down beside your leftover food.

“come on, bitch. eat it,” one other girl said as you tried to stay strong, yet your eyes were trembling as you could sense the tears forming up. you wanted to stay strong, but you could hear how your stomach was rumbling at the wrong time.

“oh, girly is hungry. such a shame that her only food is the one on that disgusting floor.” the girl who held onto you says from beside you.

“yeah, and she should definitely clean it up,” another girl echoes as they all snicker.

“you know, there is a two bird one stone solution for this...” risoo said as her steps sounded closer to you. then, a grip on your hair pushes you towards the fallen kimchi fried rice. your face hitting the rice as it stains all over your skin. your head still pushes back before more weight is added with the force, making you have to open your mouth so oxygen can enter you because of your blocked nose.

“come on, doggy. eat your lunch.” risoo voices behind you as you can’t help but actually swallow the rice or else you might choke. that is when you discover the clicking and sound of a digital camera that you stop to fight back. shame clouding you once again as you don’t want to show your face.

with hair covering your eyesight, you lift your head as you pick up the clicking sounds on a phone that has a silver strap and stars. your phone being messed with as you see the dexterous fingers pressing against buttons multiple times. spelling out a name or message or something when you heard a ringtone on another phone that comes from seona’s shirt pocket.

“if i call, answer, alright?” said girl commands, dropping the phone down as it landed on top of your hand on the floor. softening its hit, but you could feel your flesh breaking on the impact as blood flowed through them and warmed the area up. the girls moved away from you. messy hair covering your face as you can only glimpse through them and your blurry sight.

“come, girls. we have a much more decent lunch to get to.” seona taunts as the girls stepped away from the class and closes the back door of the class. leaving you alone to wallow in the condition you find yourself in once again. the chirping of the bird helps you to think your next best action as you just... be. wanting even more to search for that darkest corner so you would not be found.

your hands move to scoop the fallen kimchi fried rice into the container and grab tissues from your backpack to wipe the stains away alongside the water from your water bottle until it is as clean as possible. you also took your pocket mirror and opened it, seeing the cracked mirror on it as you rubbed away the stains that rested on your skin before it dried up. your hair is messy as you stare at yourself and your eyes are swollen with a teardrop actually falling down, making you quickly brush it away with your hand.

the grumbling stomach reminds you of the food you made as you drop it into the bin alongside the whites of the tissue. you glance at the open wallet leftover from what happened to find nothing in it, feeling so angry at yourself for not committing to the idea of putting emergency money in another pocket if this thing happens again. you have gotten personal items stolen from this exact wallet and you are smart enough to not include them in it, but you have to remind yourself you should put emergency money either inside the cardholder of the wallet or even other pockets of your bag. with nothing to do for this lunch and no money to even buy lunch, you tuck your phone into your blazer pocket and grab onto the walkman that they seemed to leave alone.

after putting the backpack away into your cupboard, you step outside the class to notice a much emptier corridor than you expect because most of the students are at the cafeteria, field, or other hang-out places in the school. you walk towards the sets of stairs as you look upwards. maybe you’ll find the deepest corner you were searching for on the floor upstairs.

the climb up doesn’t feel as tiring as you thought when it is combined with the little gush of wind blowing. on the floor landing, you look to both sides to find more classes and the half wall before you that overlooks the front of the school and field. sounds coming from meters below you as you try to observe as best as you can on things on the floor. that’s when you see a corner between classes with the one nearest to the light showing you another set of stairs.

your feet striding again towards the shrouded space as you see the stairs leading up and you smirked. you know of your fair share of rooftops as a hangout place. and you don’t care about how windy, rainy, or sunny it is. you will be on the rooftop nearly all the time in your previous schools and no one seemed to know about it the school’s staff who have to do maintenance there. hopefully, it’s the same thing here.

the green exit sign shines above you as you push open the door to the rooftop. another gush of wind, albeit harder, blows against your face and body as you carefully let go of the door so it doesn’t slam into the frame. you could see the view you saw from the lower floor, but it was much, much smaller and blurry. stepping more onto the open space and underneath the noon sun, you walked towards the edge of the rooftop fenced with fences even taller than you, much different from the half walls you see on your previous schools’ rooftop. your hand reaches for the fence, feeling your fingers wrapping around one of its holes as you can visualize the cage changing into the sight of the skirt-wearing girls’ legs that were also caging you as you don’t want to look up. memories that seemed so long ago, even though it was from months before today.

sighing, you turn your head to walk towards the side of the door so that no one can see you when they arrive at the rooftop. pressing your hand against the walkman that is between your armpit, you put on the headset and cover your ears as you walk towards a wall: a barrier from the box containing the staircase down. turning around, you glance down and hold onto your walkman as you slowly slide down against the wall. your finger pressing the power button as you see the light turning on alongside the whirling of the cd inside. you press the rewind button as the cd rapidly spins before a sudden stop, and then you are met with the sound of a subdued synth piano coming.

you rested your head against the wall, closing your eyes as you let the breeze blow against you as you breathed in and out the clear air. the beautiful sound going on in your ear captures the moment so well that you can sense the weight of rest landed on you, making your body calmer as you capture the notion of sleepiness once again from the hard nights of not even getting a minute of sleep. your legs stretched in front of you, feeling your muscles relaxing as your body releases the tension it endures on nearly every muscle.

letting out an enormous sigh, you open your eyes to find a silhouette right across from you. blinking away the blurriness, you tuck your legs closer to your chest as you stare at the figure. a figure you recognize.

a boy with his own pair of earbuds inserted into his ears, connected to the cd walkman he has lying beside his body. the school blazer opens more with the gust as you find more of his broad shoulders. the hair fallen by his forehead blows along with the wind as he watches you. his wide eyes on you.

here you two are, sitting on the walled area beside the rooftop entrance where the rest of the roof is barricaded by the fences. music enters each of your ears with both your headset and his earbuds on. you wanted to stand up and walk away to find another place, but you stayed as you eyed him. his gaze looks between your face before towards your blazer, scanning your name etched there. and you do the same.

the boy sitting on the desk behind you: lee heeseung.

-

《do all of you know mazzy star?》 《i heard that she inspired moonstruck to create her songs》 《from: cosmiccomet

《hope sandoval specifically》 《psychedelic sound that》 《if you listen to it》 《will actually make you float》 《both moonstruck and hope sandoval has this aura to them》 《what the station calls the celeste》 《something out of this world》 《only those who possess this can be assigned as the greatest musicians of all time》 《from: pearl

《started by the weird band out there》 《the velvet underground》 《its popularity can be compared to the beatles if they’re not so underground》 《from: walker0

《and it culminated into moonstruck》 《all its influences?》 《from: bambi

《sure thing》 《from: pearl

the boy sits down on the path between growing fields. the greenery overtook his sight and expanded into the horizon he could see. the moonstruck album, breathe, played in through his ears as he holds onto the walkman with both hands. pushing himself up from the asphalt road, he steps down and walks towards the dirt path visible from the growing grass nearly as tall as his thighs. the wind blows the pollen as it helps the plants grow. the edges of the flourishing leaves caressing his skin as he continues to walk, grazing his hand as it combines with the touch of the music player.

heeseung takes in the ethereal sound of moonstruck’s songs. something that always helps him to calm down his nerves. a remedy he had been obsessed with recently and to think that he wouldn’t find it if he walked away from that cd store too fast to hear the song playing over the speakers.

since he got his cd walkman on his 14th birthday, he had moved from listening to music on the radio to buying cheap on-sale cds in the store near school. songs like trot that he had heard in nearly every mom-and-pop shop he went to and the pop songs airing on tv made him tired of hearing them. and his introduction to more rock-sounding songs added colour to his otherwise colourless life, albeit only a bit of tone. on one of those trips, when he had to generate some money for eunho most easily, he discovered moonstruck.

the other boys didn’t search for him that day as the store clerk lets him listen to one song with the expensive headphones music people usually have. hearing the drum starting on time, not brash like the rock songs he listened to. much more relatable to his situation as he found his way to not think of what the others might have thought—they didn’t even realize he disappeared.

bruises and scars, inflicted by multiple people under one control, frequently decorate heeseung’s forearms. eunho was, is, and still a friend of his since middle school. but the domino of one after another changed him and his life, taking control of most if not all aspects of his old friends into his hands as he became the king of woonmyung high school. heeseung has to if he wants to survive. he had been on the opposite side of it once in the first year of high school and he swore he would never do it again.

two days ago, his dad had given him extra cash for his pocket money that he hid fast so that he couldn’t get mugged off. he ran towards the cd store by the school to see two discounted albums of moonstruck, windswept, and the latest, breathe. quickly, he grabbed them and stuffed them into his backpack. he had never left the house without his backpack housing his cd walkman, riding around on his bicycle into the days and nights where he had errands to do alongside his two other friends. chores he had to fulfil and if he succeeded, he would get a bigger cut. field trips to the grassy patches of greenery were when he had finished doing those errands; his usual bandage wrapped around his palm and only 500 won in coins given enough for him to eat a pack of the 500 won ramyeon.

coming home from the fields, the wailing cries of a newborn baby make heeseung realize his reality. when looking into the living room, he sees the scrunched eyes of his baby brother as tears fall down his cheeks.

“heeseung, is that you?” a voice comes from the kitchen.

“yes.”

“take care of heechan for me.”

the boy looks down at the crying baby. a sigh coming out of his open lips as he crouched down beside the blanket where his baby brother was resting. pushing his hand out, he cradles the head and little body and lifts it up before adjusting his holding position. the cry continues as heeseung gently moves heechan so that his little head can rest on his older brother’s shoulder. heeseung coos, seeing the drool staining his unbuttoned shirt alongside the dirt from the field. calming him down, heeseung eyes look between his brother and the living room filled with the remnants of his baby brother. new clothes and a new stroller, all seem to blend in alongside the wooden wall and his parents’ belongings. but he doesn’t see his own until he enters his room. glaring at the baby one last time, he sits kneeled down, hearing his brother’s cry calming down as the boy continues soothing his little backside. he wanted to scream at the baby with all that was happening to him ever since he was born, but he knew it was not the baby’s fault he was here.

his parents had heeseung when they were young. nearly the end of their last year of high school as his mom couldn’t even come to her graduation ceremony cause she had to give birth. having a younger set of parents is a turmoil in at of itself. children will grow up alongside their parents with this and he felt himself. he still remembered how sometimes his parents came home drunk, taking care of themselves more than his 5-year-old self. sometimes, they only remember him such as when he fell off the tree when he was 10, making them have to pay for his stitches and the leftover scar on his collarbone. and with his parents now in their mid-30s having a baby once again, their attention is on him more. making heeseung have to fend for himself until his parents gave him his allowance again.

mom approaches heeseung as she kneels down behind him. the boy hears how mom coos for his brother as he turns his head once again, being face to face with the wide brown eyes that he also has.

“dinner’s ready,” she tells him as the older boy hums, giving the baby to his mother as the coos continues and he walks towards the dining room. the steamy rice caught his attention as he grabbed his plate to scoop some up and the other dishes. he usually waited for the rest of the family to gather at the dining table. but, with the sound of the tv turning on and no hint of dad’s car coming, he has to be by himself again today.

laying down on his bed, his view of the whirring sound of the personal computer in the corner of his room is upside down. the tall cpu settles beside the desk that houses his desktop which looks so similar to the tv outside, the mechanical keyboard, and the mouse wired to the processing unit. beside it, a picture of a monochromatic spherical object looks like it is rising into his view. he turns his body to view it upright, reading the upside-down jumbled words of moonstruck. he got lucky when he was heading home from doing his errands, finding a store putting a poster of moonstruck’s first album’s promotional on sale by the window front—“i wanted to throw it away anyway since nobody listen to them” said the owner. the rope hugging his waist holds on the poster behind him as he rides his bicycle back home.

heeseung’s eyes gaze at the black-and-white picture when his ringtone fills the air as his hands crawl across the mattress and rest on the vibrating item.

“hello?” he calls.

“come to the usual place. now.”

the call disconnected as he wants to reply. his hold on the phone weakens as he drops his lifted arm to the mattress. he eyes the desk and poster of moonstruck once more and sighs, lifting his backpack up as he approaches his room’s door. opening it lightly, he hears the whines of his baby brother and the tv playing in the background. the bedroom on the other side of the house has its door closed as he catches the sound of running water flowing to the en suite bathroom his parents have in their room. stepping out of the front door, the gravel front is still empty of dad’s existence as he grabs onto the bicycle and sits on it, pushing with his foot as he balances himself before going into the familiar rhythm.

the raven colour masks the sky as heeseung’s bicycle headlights and a few street lamps light up the road. dark and obscured fields become the dominant space as he continues to pedal into the place he has been called to. he can see it in the distance. the moonlight created a backlit to the junkyard where he spend most of his time after school, especially when he has to do errands.

arriving on the rocky path, heeseung is enclosed by the junkyard of old vehicles that have been left to rot into pieces for years. no one greets him as he looks at the spotlighted area from his bike’s headlights. yet, he could hear the additional sound other than the gust of wind hitting the rusty metals. the laughter of boys that seemed more similar to hyenas—and it is approaching closer.

“there he is.” heeseung peers more into the darkness. four figures approaching the headlights as they all stand tall and mighty. one has his hood on as smoke comes out from his mouth.

“step off the bike and come here,” the familiar voice commands. heeseung’s hands hold on the handle tight before it loosens. the piercing gaze punctures something in him that hurts more and more if he continues to hold.

he lifts one of his legs and steps off the bicycle, letting it fall against the rocky road as the headlight still continues to turn on. the hooded boy steps closer to him. his facial features becoming more and more prominent as heeseung adjusts his eyes to darkness. a smirk adorning his face that he is all too familiar with. now towards him instead of someone else.

“a flock of birds told me you had extra money and didn’t give it to me.” eunho’s tone is mocking with a little gruff from his cigarette smoking. the light from the end of his blunt shines a bit of his mouth and nose before he blows the hot smoke towards heeseung, making him inhale it not like he had inhaled some of his own before.

“you remember the rule, right heeseung?” the boy chuckles, wiping his face with his clear hand. “of course, you do. you’ve been here since the first day.”

“and you should know your punishment for that.” heeseung stood there idle as the words got to him. yes, he knows the rule. yes, he has been with eunho since the start of all of this. he had kept heeseung at bay with this while many other boys changed. yes, he knew he had to give up on his money because eunho said so. because without him, heeseung would let go of one of the last anchors he had attached to this earth.

eunho steps backwards as heeseung stands there quietly. he watches the guy’s hand flicking towards the other three as they approach him. yet, heeseung still has his eyes on the pebbles by his shoes and that’s what he last saw before the force hits him hard; the darkness he sees is darker than the night.

one boy pulls the backpack strap holding onto heeseung’s shoulders as he can’t help to let out a groan, trying with his might to pull his arm close to his chest yet failing as the other two hold them open. his face buried against the rocks as someone puts pressure on his shoulder blades. he felt the end of this backpack strap slip from his fingers as he looked up, seeing youngbin—the new number 2—zip open his school backpack and turn it upside down. items upon items fell down as he watched his walkman fall to be cushioned by his notebook.

“not the walkman.” heeseung groaned before another boy pushed down again against his back. youngbin seems to take that in mind as he looks between the device and the boy who owns it.

“not the walkman.” youngbin echoes, yet his action says otherwise. he grabs the device in his hand. his finger pushes the button, and the lid opens as he looks at the disc. “but, yes to the cd.”

heeseung continues to be held back before a hit to his stomach pushes his breath away. his eyes becoming blurry as he watches youngbin takes the cd from the walkman and drop it back on the pile of notebooks. the boy looks at the disc, a grin threatening to show up as eunho looks on from behind him.

“moonstruck? who the fuck is moonstruck?” youngbin commented as he lets out a hearty laugh and look back at eunho who gives a look with a neutral expression on his face. heeseung heaves as the pain continues to build with another kick to the stomach. eyes focus on the disc that reflects the light from his bike’s headlights. he never thinks he feels such a big pain before this. the sound of a blitz crack pierces the air as heeseung’s quiet stun gazes as the cd falls onto the ground beside.

split in two.

heeseung arrived home that day, stepping inside the corridor as quietly as possible towards the bathroom. switching the lights on, he turns his head to look in the mirror. the scars creating blood red on his face. one of his eyes is swollen and he can see the area near the apple of his cheek becoming purple. lifting his t-shirt, he met the view of the bruising abdomen as it became harder for him to exhale. the breathe cd rupture into two haunting him as he placed them on the sink, continuing to gaze at it as he aided himself as best as he could.

the errands continue as if the boys forgot what they did to one of them a few days prior. heeseung had the windswept cd close to his chest, always bringing the case around so he could keep it safe. the sound of the calmness of moonstruck’s music playing as he leans his head back against the wall, letting the wind blow on the rooftop. both sounds create a synergy in his head before the sight of an open door halts it alongside the sound it makes. a girl turning her body towards the area beside the tall wall that houses the staircase going to the school building, the area where he sits and the area that he shares with the girl. the area that he shares with you.

sitting down across from him, he gazes at you who is also wearing your own headset connected to the cd walkman that is the same colour as his. you pull out your lunch box and eat it up, body still heaving to take enough breath as if you are running away from someone. he sometimes has his eyes on you, but most of the time, he actually takes a nap there. the spring weather having the right combination to lull him to sleep—him being outside until late at night doesn’t help. and so he rested, even for just a moment.

after giving the money to eunho and stepping away from that, heeseung is still haunted by the broken cd of breathe that he had walked himself to the store. being one of the newest cds out, he couldn’t find any breathe disc in the smaller store. but, just the atmosphere of the display captures his sight so badly. the promotional poster of moonstruck—a woman in a long, flowy white dress with the moon covering her face—stuns him. he eyes the stacks upon stacks of copies of breathe at the lower price that he had bought it a couple of days ago. but, with his hands rubbing inside the pockets he could reach, he knew he didn’t have the money.

yet, he takes one.

and he stares at it sitting on the desk. his head tilts down from where he sits. the bitter tone of the room sending chills down his neck as he sees a figure standing beside him, looking down at the cd and him. his fingers rub against each other on his lap as only the light coming from the window on the door is making the space much more visible. that is until shadows cover the light, twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

“the teacher is here, boss,” an employee says as the clicking of high heels becomes more prominent. he doesn’t want it to rattle him more, and that’s why he has his eyes closed, letting the words hit him more.

“good afternoon, sir-“

“is this your student?” the man standing by him asks after the familiar voice greets him. when he recognized the face, his eyes came to flutter open. indeed, he is the one who called miss kang here.

“yes, he is,” she replied. steadiness in her voice.

“miss, your student here has been caught shoplifting,” the man says, opening his palm to refer to the moonstruck cd. heeseung’s head tilts lower, shame bubbling in himself. he could pick up the ruffling of clothes moving behind him, voices that were loud becoming only whispers as tinnitus overwhelmed him more and more. vision becomes blurry not because of tears: like a vignette frames his eyesight as he only stares at the cd he had held in his hands.

“you sure?”

he continues to look at the cd before a hand grabs it, lifting his head up to see the cashier scan the item as someone puts cash on the counter. peeking from the corner, he finds miss kang standing there, looking at the employee who gives the change that she picks up. miss kang picks up the cd, holding it to her body as she reads the cover and track lists on the back. her footsteps left the counter as heeseung followed behind her.

they now stood by the side of the entrance, still staring at the cd casing with information that is relevant for the people interested in buying. but for heeseung, the information tells him what this album is supposed. windswept is more of a creamy sandy colour. while breathe is very green. the aura of celeste he learned about envelops him both visually and aurally to identify this clearer.

the cd appears in front of his upper body. he looks back to see miss kang with a tight-lipped smile. “for you.”

heeseung’s fingers wrapped onto the cd casing as he held it close against his chest, hearing her clearing her throat before speaking, “we still have to inform your parents of this. of your behaviour.”

the sentence makes heeseung turn his head back down, looking at the cd as he sighs, nodding his head. knowing that he has nothing to refute that.

arabesque plays in his ear as he stares at the yellowish-brown coloured wooden sliding door of his homeroom class. the bud sits snugly in his ear as he stares forward, not minding anyone who goes past him. then, two shadows stood in front of him in a prolonged manner that he lifted his head, seeing both miss kang and coach kim standing side by side. heeseung slowly let out a sigh even with the minuscule size of his parted lips. he pushes himself up, already knowing what their request is.

he walked behind the two teachers, folding the wire around the cd walkman as they brought him to the other wing of the school buildings mostly filled with laboratories. looking straight, he recognized the appearance of some rooms from outside: the infirmary that holds sick kids and the consulting room.

heeseung could pick up the commotion behind him as he walked—either some talking about him or they just don’t give a flying fuck. it is still recess time after all. his body is tall enough to let him see into the room from the window; seeing how a student is being treated in the infirmary. they arrive in front of the counselling office. coach kim opens the door to let miss kang in and he follows. his eyes on his mom’s figure already sitting on one of the sofas.

gently, he took steps to reach the sofa and sat next to his mom in a flowy dress and the stroller on her other side.

“good afternoon. i didn’t realize that you had company. heeseung hasn’t told us you have given birth,” coach kim says, breaking the ice as heeseung hears his mom chuckling. heechan is sleeping inside his carriage peacefully and all heeseung can do is give a small glance before looking forward at the glass coffee table.

“yes, coach kim and miss kang, right?” they nodded in reply as she continued, “is something happening to heeseung? is everything okay?”

heeseung’s eyes continue to stare downwards feeling something piercing through the side of his head just with a small glance from his mom. the boy’s hands clench and fidgets on his lap, staying quiet even with a minuscule time to peek to see that his mom is looking towards him.

“well... we cannot sugarcoat this predicament your son has gotten himself into,” coach kim replied. his angular face creates a stoic expression that make heeseung have chills running down his spine. his mom turns her head forward, staring between the two teachers with furrowed eyebrows.

“heeseung got into trouble. he got caught shoplifting a cd,” miss kang says in a soft voice as said boy lets out a long exhale alongside it.

then, it hits him. a thud against his side and a sharp hit against his cheek.

multiple hits as he had to gaze towards the door of the room, mom hitting him with her clenched fist. the baby’s cry adding to the tension. his eyes look at the window beside the door. eyes from multiple people staring at him as one of them has a smirk on their face. eunho’s face.

the hitting stops as coach kim creates a barrier between the woman and her son’s body. the boy twisting his body so that he could get a grip on the baby’s stroller. his hands reaching inside to grab onto the baby’s side and lift him out of his resting place. heeseung lets the baby’s snot and tears stain his uniform, helping to calm him down as heechan’s cry is something that he has been doing inside his soul. to just let out such an agonizing scream, hopeful that someone wanted to check out and tell him it was okay to feel that way.

a liquid trails down his cheek as he stops it right before it hits his brother’s head. looking at the side of the finger, he found a smear of crimson as the little breeze pushed on his skin, feeling the icy pain against the cut of his cheek. his mom has seated down once again. heeseung’s eyes focus on her fingers to see that she is wearing the wedding ring on her designated finger. a drop of blood on the corner of the gemstone.

“it’s only one cd. i have come and clear his name. he does...” miss kang pauses, gazing at her student, who has droplets of blood forming from a cut and is on its way downward, calming down his baby brother at the same time.

“still...” mom replied with a just voice, “stealing is stealing.”

the words hit him so much. having money taken away from him, milking him of his allowance to benefit others: it is so messed up that for him to survive the day, he has to resort to stealing. if not, he might not eat. dad has sometimes given him more allowance than usual yet, even that was taken. is it not his right to do whatever with his money can do? why don’t they understand him?

why won’t everyone just leave him alone? leave him to actually be responsible for himself?

yet, why does he feel so lonely, even with a little brother in his hand?

air grazes the open wound on his cheek as he plays said disc, letting the music fill up his mind as he can receive the little grumbles of his stomach. stepping into the class alone, heeseung laid his backpack on top of the cupboard. he glances at his fingertips that were holding onto heechan before mom picks him up from him. he is reminded of when his baby brother was born: his little palm and fingers gripping onto his fingertip so tight. chirping of birds also decorated the entire atmosphere, where he rummaged to put unneeded items back into his cupboard.

the sound of the door opening doesn’t bother him, yet the giggles are; sending goosebumps along his skin.

“ah, heeseung...” one of them calls, a tinge of raspiness in his voice making his imagination spiral. then more steps are heard. a large shadow overcasts before him. turning his head, he comes face to face with the boys he calls his friends—whatever “friend” means...

heeseung saw one boy pointing at the hurting scar on his cheek, the face tissue he wiped the blood from still tucked in his pocket. that and their snickers reminded him of the very night when the incident that started this whole chain reaction happened. if he just gave them the money, this would not happen. if he just held back from buying a moonstruck cd, he would not be feeling pain and just... continued doing his other things with this group of boys.

“you’re so stupid, huh?” eunho started, “you think because you shoplift much stuff that you can do it by yourself without the others by you?”

“i see it more as a skill issue.” youngbin added, making the other two laugh alongside him.

“ah, please. and a cd too? don’t tell me it’s that moonstruck singer again?” one boy continued, the other three looking at heeseung sheepishly as he said nothing. his silence is him telling the truth of this very question. and it makes them laugh out loud, too loud that it makes heeseung scrunch his face.

“gosh, you think you’re tough, huh? well, look at you. even got a slap from your mom, for fuck’s sake,” eunho remarks before youngbin gives him a nudge. “his mom looks hot though. i think she is still pretty young.”

“fuckable i might say,” the other boy said as heeseung balled his hand into his fist. sure, he knows of the age difference between him and his parents are 18 years. yet, that is his mom that they’re talking about. the same mom that scarred his skin and startled her other son awake from his slumber. the boys continue to giggle, adding to the cacophony of the sounds and voices in his head as his breathing is rapid. and that’s when he heard the school bell ringing, ending lunchtime. he looked behind the boys towards the door to the back of the class door.

your hand slides the door as he meets your face. your cupid’s bow is curving downwards as he can see a plaster also adorning the bridge of your nose. a slight frown added to the whole appearance of you as you take quick glances at every boy surrounding him before giving a look few seconds to heeseung. other footsteps emerge from behind you as the boys turn towards their chair and he turns back towards the cupboard. he takes many more peeks behind his back: the boys sitting down in their seats, the popular girls being loud as they enter the classroom. and you who have put down your backpack and are ready to face the class.

heeseung fidgets with his pen as the teacher comes into the room. soft noises of turning pages and clicking emerge as the teacher writes keywords onto the chalkboard. he opens his notebook and lets the teacher’s words make sense in his head first before he writes it down. his pen moving along to the way heeseung moves his fingers. he picks up the pan and plays along on his lap, not wanting the teacher to notice that it can disturb the class.

the pen was hitting air molecules before a distinct noise came out instead. looking down, he found a folded note on the verge of falling down from its confine. taking a scope around the class, he picks up the note and folds it open. a handwriting that is written clearly for him to read.

“i know what you feel. meet me at the rooftop after school.”

-

leaning your head back against the wall, you could still feel the pain surging down your body.

you tucked your knees to your chest as the blow of the breeze lets the ends of your skirt grazes against your legs. the backpack lies beside you as you eyed the bandage wrapped around your wrist. your walkman rests on your thigh as you gaze upwards at the blue sky that is turning orange. birds are flying in flocks from one end of your vision to another as you follow them. the way they spread their wings so wide and glide through the air molecules. being in tandem with each other. no one left behind.

a week has passed since you’ve been here and you are left behind once again. the rumours about you don’t help, how they still believe you are this rich kid disguising yourself. the lunch box doesn’t help either, resorting to you just buying some cheap kimbap that you know other people are also eating for their lunch—hiding the lunch box deep inside your backpack and eating it before you go home. the lunch box is now empty as you settle into your usual place. bandages litter your arm, hand, and one across your nose bridge.

it happened in the first recess. just a small 30-minute window of time is enough for seona and her girls to get you and do whatever they do to you. all you can do is grit your teeth as you hold on, not wanting to let go of the allowance money you told them you didn’t get. taking the brunt of the hit from risoo that cuts the skin on your nose and could be a worse bruising if you don’t compress it with ice quickly. it results in you going to the infirmary, letting nurse park treat you once again other than the bruising you got on your shin a few days prior.

you remember resting your head on the bed as the nurse walked away, telling you to stay back until you were ready enough to go back to class after lunch. straightening your body, you put the pillow upright on the wall behind you so that you could sit comfortably. the jingling keychain on your phone rings as you pick it up, see the sms notification that you open to see the message of dad telling you that both he and mom are not gonna be home tonight. sighing seems to be a routine for you as you click away and open the game folder, finding the snake game and you press it with the middle button. the screen changes as a line forms alongside a random dot on the screen. your nimble and bandaged thumb presses the arrow button as the snake moves around for you to collect its snack.

one snack and the snake will be longer, trying your best to not hit the border. it continues as the constant movement of your fingers keeps you in focus. the clicking from the keyboard mechanism of the phone creates a steady note in the infirmary. the sound of the other students having their recess while you are here, playing snake into recovery. but giggles caught your attention.

lifting your head from the phone screen lets you see the window of the infirmary towards the hallway. high school students and their ability to be seen from said windows makes it easier for teachers to know which students are running late or a student searching for their friend if they are coming to class or not. instead, you found the head of a bunch of boys huddled on one side of the window. the side where-

the door slams open as you turn your head to the left. a light shadow cast on the floor of the angular shape as you watched a figure stepping from it and turning its head to gaze at the rooftop. his eyes are observing the empty rooftop you’ve been staying on for the past few minutes. that is before he turns his body to head towards his usual seat on the rooftop: right across from you.

sitting down there is heeseung. the boy who sits behind you as he has his shirt uniform opened, exposing a grey t-shirt underneath. in his hand is a folded paper as he lets go of the backpack and lets it rest beside his figure. prominent scarring shows on his cheek, a straight line from one side of the cheek to the other. it’s strange to not see him with his earbuds on. but with the frantic flick of his eyes, looking around the rooftop before the sound of the people leaving the premises of the school campus, he seemed to think of something differently.

then, he met your eyes. they trail down to peer the rest of your face before going down more to your bandaged hand. your eyes still continue to stare at his scar before you glimpse at the note in his hand. your lip twitches before meeting his eyes once again, a look of recognition in his eyes.

it didn’t take him long to stand up and grab his backpack by the handle on top. his footsteps getting closer and he now stands beside you. dropping his backpack carefully, he lets his back lean against the wall before sliding down. the song continue to play in your headset as you push the pause button, expecting something when he also turns his head. his face reflects of yours, in a state of wounded as he pouted his lips; calculating the words he would like to speak about.

“i-“ he paused as he put his hand in his pant pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper before opening it, showing the inside to him before he pushes his hand so you can see it.

“did you write this?” he asked in a mumble, yet still loud enough for you to catch on. you glance down at the writing in the note, the handwritten style reflects your own.

“yeah.” you exhaled. your fingers moving on their own as you rub the bandage on your fingers. soothing yourself with the unexpected nerve as you caught onto heeseung’s light gasp? awe? you can’t describe it. then, the chuckles came. the same chuckle you heard on your first day in class. yet, it’s more carefree. authentic compared to the one in class when it seemed so forced. a chuckle that came out freely instead of fear and obedience.

“i, i thought that they knew about this place...” heeseung replied, rubbing his face with his hand before soothing himself, massaging his creased forehead before lifting his head once again. he turned to you, the corner of his lips falling down as the emotion changed in a flicker of his blinking eyes.

“how do you know about...?” the boy tidies himself up, putting the note alongside his own walkman on his stretched thighs.

“i just felt it, you know? though they aren’t as prevalent as what i endure in school.” you started. you lean your chest to your folded legs, arms around the front of your feet as you hug yourself, head turning towards heeseung. “i, uh, also heard what happened to you today. the consulting room.”

you picked up the smack of skin and a woman screaming from the room beside yours. you’ve been in that room before, mostly talking about how you were adapting to the new environment and how the school explained converting your scores from your previous high school. points are connecting in your head: the side profiles of the boys you’ve seen and what happened, noticing that one of them was not with them. and you conclude it.

the boy nibbles on his bottom lip, gnawing on the skin as he shifts his head to look towards you. “i’m sorry you hear that.” your eyes widen at his answer but you didn’t account for the next words out too.

“and i’m sorry that i didn’t stop what happened to you this morning.”

the memories of today seem more like the past. the endurance you have to exert on yourself, knowing deep down that no one can’t even sympathize with you. but his words tell you that someone saw you being beaten by them. well, you aren’t surprised that heeseung can’t intervene. fighting against seona will be as bad as fighting back against eunho for him. they are linked somehow. you don’t know how. romantically? emotion-wise? ideology?

you let out a small scoff as you sensed your headset fallen down to your nape. your hands reaching it to adjust it better, but you can still see the number changing on the little screen on heeseung’s own walkman. the words are nudging you again and again, especially as you turn back to examine your own numbers against the afternoon sun.

“what music are you listening to?”

it’s heeseung’s turn now with his eyebrows raised. pressing the pause button and a rewind, he pulls out one bud of his earbuds before pushing the button down. the lid opens up as you peer down at him stretching his hand with the walkman. inside is a gleaming green tint cd, a picture of what looks like a lone tree with the moon behind it. the white outline of it is right at the centre of the cd. you read the words etched onto the cd.

“moonstruck,” he said, reading the word to you. you take a peek at him, looking down at the cd with the corner of his mouth lifting before widens into both corners.

“it’s the cd that made me get caught. that made all of this happen,” he says with a tense grit on his jaw before it loosens as he slowly caresses the cd with his thumb. his fingertip brushes against the name. “i still don’t know why miss kang just bought it for me at the end.”

you know, he was mumbling at this point. but you didn’t care. heeseung has always seemed to be someone a bit more timid in his rambunctious gang of boys. reluctant to do things, but you still see a shine in his eyes on something he enjoyed. one of them was in the first physical education class you have in woonmyung high school. he had a liking towards the half-court basketball, though his build isn’t in the optimal shape for it. the same class you were cornered by seona, risoo, and the girls for the first time in the bleachers of the gymnasium. coach kim disappears for that little window of time just enough for them to do their thing to you.

“can i listen to it?” you mutter.

heeseung’s hand seemed to give an answer before he spoke it. he pinches the cable of the bud towards you as you grab it with your own fingers. pulling the bud and pushing it into your ear-hole, you notice the other end of the bud still in his ear. he closes the lid as the cd whirls on. the little screen shows the track playing back from track number 1. the sound of a synth yet it resembles a woodwind instrument comes to your mind. the steady percussion creates the anchor for you to relax. then the music expands: introducing a whirling sound that contrasts the soft instruments and vocals, creating a whimsy and relaxing mood.

looking back at the boy, you find him already looking at you. a small smile etched on his face as his eyes flutter shut with how magical the song sounds. the voice coming from the various instruments creates colours in each of your ears. colours that form together as it continues. its colours combined with the light of the sky shining down on both of you. serenity achieved in such a simple way: to find the right moment or material that reflects it. the song continues as it familiarizes with your own mind, feeling your heartbeat slowing down as it counts along the beats of the track.

“this is her second album. breathe. her fans on the space station identify this album to have a green celeste. her previous one, windswept, is more creamy.” heeseung started, saying words that seemed so out of context for you if you don’t listen to the whole context of it.

“what is celeste?” you caught on.

the boy chuckles as he strokes his hair gently, “the station or what i can call the forum for moonstruck fans doesn’t define it. but i interpret it more as a feeling where art makes you feel like you're in another realm of reality. a realm where you can just... be you. getting away just for a moment of whatever you define your reality as.” his reply makes you shift your head, eyebrows raised as you subconsciously pout with his profound answer.

“i could say that that’s the reason i listen to music so much.” you lift your walkman to show to heeseung. “a form of therapy through letting your senses be overwhelmed by one thing before it spreads into your mind. from the lyrics to the melody, and all that.”

heeseung continues to chuckle, yet it still has the same earnest tone you’ve heard of today. as the track changes many times, you and heeseung stay quiet and take in the day as it is nearing its end. sun approaching closer to the horizon before sinking past it. your upper body rests against the wall with your knees still tucked to your sitting figure, hugging yourself as you lean your head back and let the songs come in. in your imagination, you could see a full moon with a glowing green colour. the green colour that resembles more on vitality, health, and a path to safety.

glancing beside you, heeseung is also doing the same thing. his black hair swept against the little gush of wind. its sound creates a more authentic listening experience with the music playing in one ear and nature’s music in the other. combining all the colours together in creating, not an explosion, but more of a blend that still shows each strand of colour yet it's still intact. its colours appear before you and heeseung, floating into the sky as it dances around you.

for the first time in a long time, you have felt less lonely.

but the ringtone of the phone ruins everything.

heeseung pulls out his phone, seeing and hearing it vibrate against his palm. its piercing and different melody clashes with the ones that are formed from what you both heard. yet, as you turn your head to see him, you find him looking down at the vibrating device before taking a long, deep breath. reaching out, you press the pause button on the walkman as the sound of the ringtone fills the surrounding air. his finger reaches for the button that is going to answer the clock. however, he flicks his eyes and meets yours. all you could do is pout. you were having a good time getting into the fourth track before it rang, shattering the atmosphere.

you wanted to grab the phone and hold it back, not letting him succumb to answer it. but, finding the name “eunho” on the screen makes chills run down your spine. the realization that even with this boy beside you were also being tormented—from the boys gathering as they listened to heeseung’s consultation to the harsh words you gathered outside of the classroom door that makes you hesitate to step inside—he is still a bully somehow. he is still responsible for making someone’s life harder, taking into account the story of this very cd that was once stolen but is now bought.

the boy presses the button and puts the phone by his ear.

“hello?” his voice turns monotone. much more different from when he was telling you about moonstruck. “ok.” he exhales. “i’ll be there.”

the call ends as you already grab the bud out of your ear. you push your hands on the floor as you stand up alongside heeseung. grabbing each of your backpacks respectively before tugging the strap to your back, you face against him. both of your hands holding onto your walkman as he wrapped his earbuds wire along the outside of his own music player.

after putting both straps on your shoulder, you catch a short ringtone playing from your own phone. looking at it as you tuck it out from the pocket, you see the familiar name of seona written on the screen. heeseung seems to notice it too and the way your eyebrows furrowed.

yet you still give him a small smile.

“bring her other releases too. i am very interested,” you replied, stepping away from him backwards before you give him a small wave before disappearing into the door to the school floors, leaving heeseung behind, who is also growing a small smile on his face.

-

《do any of you ever wonder how powerful moonstruck’s creations are?》 《it helps me get through tough times》 《from: bambi

《i relate to whatever you say, bambi》 《because it helps me too》 《from: silver

《ever since i discovered her》 《her celeste got me to go through many things in life》 《even hard times》 《from: pearl

《can you elaborate more on that aspect, pearl?》 《from: bambi

《well, i think it is pretty common nowadays》 《when people are pointing out how wrong you are living your life when you are just... be》 《that no matter what you go through, you’ll always find someone who will make your life harder in whatever way》 《moonstruck’s songs help me escape from that and i heal myself through hearing her》 《that there is someone there who can relate to whatever thoughts and emotions i’m having》 《i want to have that》 《that celeste》 《as a shield to protect myself even tougher》 《from: pearl

《well, as the owner, you have been doing well, pearl!》 《from: 1004

《agree》 《i could sense celeste exuding from even this small space in this forum alone》 《from: silver

《thank you for that 1004 and silver》 《from: pearl

《well, thank you for telling your story, pearl》 《i haven’t known someone who is facing the same thing as i do》 《from: bambi

《thank you so much, bambi :) 》 《i believe that we are not truly alone》 《from: pearl

the world gets lonely. the presence that was imprinted in his life ever since he was little is shedding away with the lack of enthusiasm helping to push it out of the other reasons. with every step he takes when going to school named after the word “fate”, it feels like a droplet of himself seeps out from his soles and blanks him more. every drag of the cigarette he takes now that he has to search for more things to cope with, literally and figuratively, sucks a section of your lifetime away.

yet, as of now, heeseung felt less lonely. his backpack is heavier than last week’s as the sound of the plastic hits one another with a mini clank sound he could hear. he uses his long legs to skip two stairs at a time, wanting to flee from the boys’ presence as fast as he can—especially with the little meeting they have in the first recess that is making everything much more complicated. all he needs is his now newly injected dose of serenity: the one hour at lunchtime which has passed the entire week. and the company he has that elevates the entire experience.

his hand pushes open the door to the rooftop, being met with the gusts of wind that make him a tad shivering. yet, taking a few steps in front, he turns his body to the side of his little spot on the rooftop. you’re already there with your legs stretched out, your skirt covered enough of your limbs as you have your headset on while putting the spoon in your lunch box. lifting your head up, his figure obscured you from the sunlight and yet you still give him a smile. the scar on your nose is all gone but he now sees a leftover of a bruised shin, a similar occurrence that he also has with his bruised knees that nearly rips the cloth of his pants.

crouching down even with the pain, he settles down on the spot he called his now beside you. your hands already lifting your headset off as you wait while heeseung untangled the wires from his earbud. placing it gently on your open palm, heeseung then turns to his backpack as he unzips it to reach for one of the cd case inside. pulling the item he grab, he finds the windswept word written in front with the cover of the moon that stand behind a woman reflected on a body of water. pressing the eject button, the lid opens as he carefully put cd inside, not wanting to scratch it. the boy felt the tug from the earbud he already insert into his own ear as the scrapping noise continues, making him press the play as to not make you wait any longer. the familiar sound of synth combines with waves enter both of your ears at the same time as heeseung leans back against the wall.

this is the serenity that he has been craving. listening to his favourite musician in a quiet location with someone who won’t judge him. the backpack rests beside his outstretched legs that rest beside yours. his eyes find the moon showing up in the afternoon sun. the half moon shape is split right down the middle. that’s when he felt the slight icy touch on his forearm to shift and saw you pushing out your lunch box, rubbing your tummy with your other hand. you have been making heeseung finished your lunch recently and as someone who always got his lunch money stolen; he is satisfied with how his stomach could be satisfied even with just a few spoonfuls of food.

and that is all that he has done for the past week. sitting beside you while hearing moonstruck’s song from her time in her former band, nexus, until the recent ones as he shares with you the moonstruck trivia you always asked about: “what is this song about?” “interesting use of synths there, what does that imply?” after eating lunch, he pulled out a cigarette box and a box of matches. pulling through the filter, he inhales as the fire lights the end of the blunt and the familiar smoke pushes out of his lips. he didn’t expect for you to snatch the cigarette and take an inhale yourself. and now it has become another thing that you both share with each other.

heeseung swallowed the last of your food before he cleared it with his water. words forming in his mind like it is a normal occurrence from the week you have. yet, because he had known you for a week, he felt like he could be more truthful about things to talk about. clearing his throat, he pushes himself to speak.

“i’m glad that i’m here with you.”

“hmm?” you turned your head to face him, eyes squarely on him as he flicks his to see you.

“you don’t... make fun of me for sharing about moonstruck.” his usual steady tone shrinks in volume as he finishes his sentence. your hand reaches for the lunch box. his movement paused when he looked back at you. yet you never step away. you stayed beside him, even scooting closer to him as if to tell him that, yes, you are here to listen. you’re glad you are here too...

“where do we start...” heeseung said after the sigh, recollecting all the similar scars adorning both of your visible limbs and how he remembers how got nearly all of it on him. “i treat music as an escapism from everything that happened, you know?”

you hummed along.

“my life is... jumbled. if i have to describe it in one sentence. most of the actions i do are for my survival.” he glances at you from the corners of his eyes. “you must be thinking that i’m crazy for even being friends with the people that make me grit my teeth in pain all the time. but that is survival.” the boy doesn’t want to spill everything about himself, just the minor part of his that he assumes you might relate with.

“if i don’t stick with them, it’ll be harsher. many other students were also threatened by them and-“

“and yet, you’re still the one hurting more.”

heeseung pauses himself as you cut through. the words already formed on his tongue dissipate in an instant with the utmost authentic response. you sigh and blink rapidly before you open your lips, “i’ve seen how they treat you. the lowest among them.”

his eyebrows furrowed, making him think back on the various memories and bruises on his body. “well, you’re wr-“

“they asked you for your money. eunho and his cronies. that’s why you bring no lunch. that’s why they tease you so much and even bring your family into it. that’s why you have to shoplift a moonstruck cd.”

“how in the hell did you know they mentioned my family?” it’s his turn to interject, making you turn your head as your foot touches his right beside it.

“i heard it. last week. that day you received my note.”

he remembers how you were the first person he saw when the class’s back door opened by the cupboard lockers. the rush as the boys seemed to stop whatever they were doing and leave heeseung be with his backpack.

“i was in the infirmary when you were called to the consulting room. the wall is so thin that i could hear what you’re discussing. i noticed your boys standing by the door of the room. and i watched them watch you.”

the boy’s nose flared as he looked down at his lap and yet the music continued with soft, repeating notes from the guitar. added more to the atmosphere of the talk.

“i’ve seen how they treat you. i experienced the same thing, and it is...” your voice trembles as you blink another set rapidly, catching on that your eyes seemed to glisten and reflect the sunlight more.

“it’s such an overwhelming feeling to find someone who you can relate to, especially since i’m always been more of the black sheep in any of the schools i went to.” you rub your hand against your skirt-covered thigh. “the rumours and all and i got the brunt of it. it’s why i wear such an old and dirty backpack. my parents look like they’re rich but never even make a room for that rich look for me. i feel both visible and invisible at the same time.”

“i felt that too. i can say that my parents are more focused on themselves and my baby brother now and not me. i know that they had me young but i just felt much and much more invisible when i came back home,” heeseung added, scooting himself closer as his words covered the incoming groan from when he noticed the ache again.

“yet, here we are...” you conclude. he hums to reply, earning a small smile from you as the music continues. minutes left before the bell rings that is interrupted by the sms jingle ringing. your phone was not trembling but heeseung’s was. he looks down to read the text and adorns the neutral facial expression once again. his resting face has a little frown on it.

“duty calls...” heeseung says exasperatedly, making you give a thin-lipped smile as you hear the groan coming from him as he tugs his backpack on one shoulder. he pushes his hand on the floor before pushing himself with the force and against the wall behind him. that’s when he sensed something touching his waist before he looked down, finding a pair of arms from beside him to see you pressing too tightly but effective in making him stand up. he gasped in pain, making you take your hands off of him as he stood up. yet, you still clutch the walkman in your hand. the earbuds still connecting as you stood face to face with him.

you still have your own walkman left on the floor by your backpack. yet, you didn’t make any remark about the wires connecting both of you as you say hastily.

“leave them be.” your eyebrows furrowed. the music continues to play as the boy looks at you and at the walkman in your hands. the both of you were only near the first half of the album and with the little tap on the flowy skirt, he could see how much you’re enjoying it.

but, more things come to heeseung all at once. if he stayed here until the bell rang, they would hunt him down. then they will find you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. he doesn’t want to ruin this blossoming friendship. this sanctuary aura of this rooftop for both you and him. escaping even for a few minutes to collect yourself physically and mentally. the sanctity that is your presence and the connection.

he has to set boundaries about all of this.

“i got to go,” he mumbled before meeting your eyes, searching for any sincerity in it. and with that, you pull the earbud and give it back to him. you nodded your head before crouching down to gather all your items into your backpack quickly. and then you give him another small smile before you take the steps to leave the premises of your area. turning your body and noticing how it is gone from the walls. leaving him alone instead, yet with a warmth that even helps with his abdomen injury.

-

sliding down onto the rooftop’s floor, you look across from yourself to find no one. the gush of wind sent shivers down your spine as you sighed, continuing to listen to the music blasting in your ears as you unzip your backpack to pull out your lunch box. the familiar loneliness blankets you once again.

for the past few days, you were alone here. the silhouette of heeseung’s recognizable body didn’t anchor on this very place for the seventh day. at first, your eyes widen and flicker at the empty concrete floor by the half wall. maybe he had been late because of something. a meeting with miss kang about his scores or eunho getting on to him once again. yet, as time goes by and you look down at the clock by the school gate with its long hand nearing the 12th number, the bell ring startles you as you hurry to pack up your belongings. the wire of the headset dangling as you continue to walk downstairs; hoping the heeseung would come to the rooftop on the next day.

yet, as the next day comes by, he isn’t on the rooftop. it repeats all over for the next week, the way your heart aches as you don’t know what happened to him. you haven’t shared your phone number with him even though having the innovation of sms on your beck and call, yet your stupid mind didn’t think about it. once again, you sat alone as you opened the lid of the box. the aroma of spicy ddeok hits you as it clears your sinuses. a shelter against the winds of spring.

then, you turn your head.

the shadow of the rooftop door opens as you catch the scratches of someone stepping onto the concrete. eyes enlarged. you meet the boy’s face. his expression neutral borderline fury with his squinting eyes, those eyes that relaxed as he saw you as the wrinkle between his eyebrows contracted.

your heartbeat marches the way he takes his step, his hand holding onto one strap of the backpack on his shoulder. the top three buttons of his uniform make the white undershirt peek out. he steps in front of your sitting body as your head follows, each step he takes mimics yours as if he has learned about it when you come to the rooftop right after him. the rustling increases as he stands at his designated place, pulling off the backpack before sliding down against the wall. the boy turns his head, finding you with your lips in a straight line. eyes flicker to gaze around his face, reading what he wants to say. though, instead of speaking out about why he had disappeared for the last week, worrying more if he had received a fresh wound that you also have at your extremities. he let out a huge exhale and spoke.

“we should stop meeting up here.”

“what?” you interject, “why?”

heeseung’s eyes glance at his fingers playing with each other before speaking, “i’m worried about all of this. how we meet up. how-“

“you’re tumbling over your words, heeseung.” your eyebrows furrowed. before you are the sight of something familiar. something your parents have every time they announce that the family will move once again—making you reset everything that you had done to survive school. deceitfulness flickers in his eyes before it is outshined by a sparkle, gritting his teeth. “tell me the truth-“

“eunho found out about this whole thing. how i escape going from him to go to the rooftop instead of being by his side and tormenting other people.” his voice is a little hoarse as he takes a deep breath. the boy’s head droops towards his chest. “if eunho comes here and you’re here also, you will be the target of the day and, and i just can’t see you being tormented for me with your,” he opens his palm, pointing towards you with the fading scars on your arms and legs to how you have a bandage on your kneecap, the blood wanting to seep through the cotton.

“i can’t...” he looks forward once again, “i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

the silence after his revelation startles you into being a statue. the music continues to blare in your ears as it is a mishmash of instruments playing above and below each other. you nodded your head, hearing heeseung’s breath as you continued to trail down his body. the blazer tied around his waist enables you to see the scars littering his forearm. faded yet will be another mark on his skin that he will have to get used to.

but, you shake your head. it starts slow. one cycle of shaking from left to right. then it gets more and more, quicker, and heeseung can’t help but notice before you stop yourself. the muscles around your neck straining from the movement that had you close your eyes, slowly opening the lids as the blurriness meets the sunshine.

“you don’t have to obey them.” your gut pushes you to say, eyes flicking to his side. not wanting to face his features overall. “but, if it means that today will be the last time we will hang out with each other, then grant me one last wish, heeseung.”

your right hand curls into a fist before straightening once again. you gaze at your lunch box. the food is only eaten halfway before you get interrupted. well, you never finished your lunch anyway these days. it was only cleanly empty when heeseung helped to finish it.

“after school, let’s go to seoul. just the two of us. away from here. away from...” you gulped down your saliva before opening your arms wide, capturing the wholeness of the situation you and he are both in. dropping them instantly, you brace yourself and shift your head to meet his. you guessed that you’ll meet disgust.

why are you suggesting that when i’m staying away from you for your own safety?

yet you can see the glint in his eyes. his neutral face has his cupid’s bow lifted even slightly before he chuckled and looked down on his lap.

“after school. meet me near the corner shop.”

“good.” you lifted your lunch box and handed it to him, “eat it up. you got to have energy for any activities that we want to do.”

giggles ring out from both him and you as you continue to listen to your music, looking at heeseung, who picks up the chopsticks before pausing. he looks straight at your walkman for a few seconds before he picks up the food and eats it. picking up your belongings, heeseung gazes upwards at your now-standing body, hugging your cd walkman close to your chest.

“bring the lunch box back to me when we meet up.” you remind him as he hums, savouring the lunch as he still watches you. chuckles come out of you as you step backwards to turn your body when it is in line with the door of the rooftop. the echoes of your footsteps are loud enough for heeseung to hear until it is far enough to disappear.

the rest of the class in the afternoon, you fidget with your pencil as you feel the familiar soft hit on your body. the crumpled paper falls down onto the floor as you let out a silent exhale, picking the ball of paper in your fist as you tuck it into your desk drawer. letting it join the rest of the crumpled ball of paper that you got more times than you could imagine. curiously, you shift your head as if looking for something or maybe someone who threw you the ball—which you already know is seona, risoo, or the other two girls. but you do that to take a glimpse of heeseung. his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he had both his forearms and elbows on the table. his eyes catch yours as you see the look on his face you awfully recognise.

the same emotion you always let out when you gaze at his fresh wounds.

walking out of the school gate as fast as you can after the last class ends, you blend in with the rest of the students that are flowing out from the school grounds. yet, instead of the usual walk towards your house, you turn to the corner shop from the first junction you meet. tugging your blazer off, you felt shivers on your exposed skin making you hiss. the bruises that you had there are still visible as you press your skin with two of your fingers. you’ve experienced itchiness so much when you are wounded and you found a remedy for that instead of scratching your skin until it bruises up again. you slowly tap on it, letting the blood flow through the veins and arteries and soothe your skin from the itchiness.

folding your blazer and put on the outdoor table alongside your backpack, you untucked your shirt out from beneath your clothes, creating a much more baggy look you like more on yourself. zipping the backpack up after putting on your blazer instead, you see the recognizable silhouette approaching closer and closer. the corner of your lips lifted as the shadow recedes to let you recognize the person.

“hey,” heeseung greets as he joins you and puts his backpack on the table beside yours. zipping open the backpack, he pulls out the lunch box before giving it to you and replaces it with his blazer, making you have to arrange your belongings once again as you take a peek at him unbuttoning the rest of his uniform shirt, the undershirt becoming more prominent with its area size and contrasting colour.

“let’s go before anyone catches us,” you reminded him as both of you put your backpacks on your backs respectively. you tug your phone inside your skirt’s pocket alongside the smart card you still hold on to, especially after living in the seoul area even with the many times you have to move.

the walk to the commuter train station heading to seoul isn’t that far. both of you stand by on the platform as you wait for the train to approach. you and heeseung stand side by side. your appearance with your untidy uniforms makes you both unrecognisable from which high school you two are from compared to the other students who still have their uniforms on them tidy. the rumble on the ground followed by the gush comes along with the train that now stops in front of you. many of the seats on the train are empty as you suspect that the train heading the opposite direction into your town and beyond is much busier with people getting back home to their families. yet, well, for you, you planned to stay as long as possible outside, maybe until the sun sets for another day.

sitting down on the seat, the door closes as the train moves on the track. heeseung sat right beside you as you gazed at the window behind the empty seat across from you. the sight of the fields shining green alongside the spring weather calms your eyesight. the constant sound of the wheels on the tracks creates a steady noise from you that even makes you relax enough to go into a meditative state. eyes open yet hooded to not let the muscles strain, darting to an ever-changing view of the clear weather.

the view changes from the fields to the buildings, before the tracks get covered by walls as the train goes underground. the light inside the car that was on before becomes more prominent. from the few stations the train has gone past, many people have come and gone. yet a small amount of them were sitting near where you and heeseung sit, both beside the two of you and on opposite seats. with the train moving around from side to side and all, one side of you is now stuck beside heeseung. skin on skin touch as you looked down to check on your backpack. lifting your head to the window now with the wall behind it, you find your reflection instead under the interior light. heeseung nods a little of his head alongside the music he is playing. behind the clear plastic part of the walkman, you recognized the breathe album of moonstruck. yet, you didn’t want to ask him about it like you used to.

after all, this is the last time you’ll be with him.

the train announces its arrival at the next station and you hear a stomach roaring. shifting your head, you looked down at heeseung, who had a hand on his abdomen. the rumbling sound still can pierce through the noisy train. his adam’s apple gulps when you raise your sight to meet his. a look of indifference meets with sheepishness that only he communicated with his eyes. you heard the next station announced once again as you felt the train slow down. your arm that was resting on your thigh grabs onto the nearest one of his as you pull his hand and backpack at the same time.

“getting off here?” he asks an obvious question as you tug one of the backpack straps on your shoulder. both of you now standing in front of the door.

“i know a place,” you replied as the door opened and both of you walked out of the train car.

the steps of the stairs added more to heeseung’s hunger as its sound echoed against the winding hallway towards the road. arriving there, you scan the surroundings that you are familiar with. one of the neighbourhoods near your old house from your last year of middle school that has everything. it has changed little from what you remember, only the appearances of fresh signs you haven’t seen to signs that were there that have vanished. the right amount of modern and traditional living at the same time with the lack of franchises. the sound of the zipper catches your attention as heeseung only holds his backpack before he places his hand back in yours like when you both traverse the way to the exit. scanning for the last time, you find a familiar street with a few of your favourite eateries as you gently pull him.

the shops you went by are mostly restaurants that have a bigger portion or price. knowing heeseung and your situation with how you both share foods, you can’t pick something too expensive even if it is making you both full. that is when you heard a small gasp coming from heeseung as you both arrived at your destination. it is filled with people but still has some seating room, especially a table that overlooks the street it is on. but when you turn your head, you catch heeseung’s wide eyes looking at the colourful packages inside on the shelves—predominantly red.

numerous packages of ramyeon from different brands. heeseung’s jaw dropped clear with the small gap between his lips as you could also feel your saliva gathering from the delicious food. you eyed a package of neoguri inside as an older woman helped to pick it up for the customer inside before said customer paid and went to the counter beside it with kitchenware from stove to knives.

you knew this place because you had walked past it before. but the reason you visited this place is the affinity the boy beside you has for ramyeon. you have caught on to the way he ate half of your lunch when it is ramyeon. how concentrated he is when he is eating it and how he drinks all the broth until it is spotless. with seoul and its modern antics, you knew that this would be a perfect place for heeseung to fill his appetite. and by his reaction, you’re right.

ringing comes from above the open door that heeseung pushed as you trail behind in to step into the store. the various smells of different brands of ramyeon waft the air inside the interior as steam can escape through the opening above the door and large window. the old woman behind the counter greets you as heeseung still looks behind at the shelves with any ramyeon he could ask for.

“um, can i get one shin ramyeon and one egg, please?” heeseung uttered his order first as the woman picked up said ramyeon and the egg in one swoop before placing it before heeseung.

“you’re both together?” the woman asks, picking up two pots and two sets of chopsticks. your eyes widened when you realized she referred to you, even though you stood behind heeseung. said boy turning his head as he points with his head movement.

“uh yes, ahjumeo-nim. um...” you marked the piece of neoguri that you’d been eyeing when you both stood behind the window, outside looking in.

“can i get the neoguri, please?”

“of course,” the woman says as she picks up the exact neoguri package and puts it inside the pot before you, right beside heeseung's. “any drinks you both want?”

“i would like a cider,” the boy replies.

“me too,” you added as the woman grabbed the two sprite cans and placed them alongside both of you. she eyed your order and told you the price. you looked at heeseung as you just remembered you didn’t bring your wallet—the fear of your money being picked up by seona and the others bubbling inside as you have experienced it before your second day in woonmyung high school. shifting your head, you instead found heeseung crouching down on the floor, opening his backpack as all you can see is the void before he pulls out 1000 won for both of your orders.

“thank you, young man. you cook your ramyeon on that side where we have the water jug and stoves for both of you. after finishing, move from the stove so that other customers can cook theirs too.”

“thank you, ahjumeo-nim,” both of you said together as you picked up the pan with the handles on each side. carrying it to the vacant stove right beside heeseung’s. setting it down on the stove, you pick up the jug to fill the pot according to your liking when you cook neoguri. the sound of the stove turning rings before you as you see the blueish-orange fire heating the water. turning your head, you find heeseung pouring the water into the jug carefully; measuring it with his eyes.

the boy then goes away for a bit as you observe the two boiling waters for cooking the noodles. then, heeseung returns with a bowl before placing it on the counter and cracking the egg in it. using his chopsticks in each hand, he breaks the egg yolk and mixes it up with both chopsticks twisting around in different paths.

“you’re making egg ramyeon?” his ear seemed to twitch as you could see that he was looking at it from the corner of his eyes.

“yeah. it’s my recipe for egg ramyeon- shit, almost forgot.” he drops the chopsticks as it leans against the bowl before he picks up the packet for the ramyeon seasoning and shakes it. his action makes you let out a pout as you did the same while ripping the packet and pouring your neoguri seasoning into the boiling water. heeseung follows before putting the empty packet on the ramyeon packaging beside the noodles waiting to be dumped in.

glancing at heeseung—who is still continuing to break his ramyeon—you dump your noodles inside your pot before stepping sideways so that you can step behind heeseung. grabbing the noodle on top of the package, you carefully put it inside the heeseung’s pot as you can’t help but touch his back because of it. his shoulders feel warm and comfortable even with that slide graze as you slip away as fast as you can because you have to stir your ramyeon so the noodles separate and cook evenly.

stirring the pot with your chopsticks, you glance at heeseung’s side to find him pausing for a few bits from stirring before he continues gently, stunned by your action that makes you a tad giddy inside.

“thanks,” he asks.

“no problem.” you eyed him and gave a small smile as you looked at his pot. one of his hands holding onto the chopstick as the other held the beaten egg-filled bowl.

“this makes it delicious.” heeseung declared as he felt you leaning in from your side. both of you looking at him gently flipping the bowl as the egg pours into the boiling soup. you eyed as the egg disappeared before, one by one, they all floated back to the surface. like clouds surrounding one side of the pot. you can’t help to look at heeseung’s face, finding the familiar determined expression alongside a little smirk on his lips, eyeing the noodles that he will devour when it is done cooking. you could hear your own stomach rumbling now as you looked at the mouth-watering sight of both of ramyeon getting cooked.

turning the knob for the stove, you picked up the handle so you don’t touch the hot wall of the pot before placing your ramyeon on the table overlooking the window. it snugs in the small part of the window where only two seats are available as you pick the seat that overlooks the street outside. the sound of the thud of your backpack hits the floor as you sit down, waiting for heeseung to settle down with his own belongings. the steam flies up from both of your pots as you mix the noodles and broth when a topic propels you to speak.

“can i try a bit of your ramyeon?”

the boy turns his head, a small smile growing on his face as he drops his backpack, “if i could also try yours.”

“deal.”

with your chopsticks, you pick up some of his noodles as he nudges the egg for you, making sure you pick it up. gently, you brought the ramyeon into your mouth as the hot temperature seems to be the right recipe to combat the wind that has been blowing you up. then, the spices came with the cooked egg neutralizing it.

“hmm!” you reacted, peeking at the boy who still had his smile as he picked up some neoguri noodles from your pot. nodding your head, you react to how perfectly the way the shin ramyeon melted on your tongue.

“it’s not overcooked. the noodle.”

“yeah, that’s why i have to get the right amount for the water,” he replies before slurping the neoguri like you do. carefully pushing the kelp slice in as he chewed and let out a groan. “yours are good too,” he replied whilst covering his lips, not wanting his saliva to fly everywhere.

“yours is better.” you answered as you opened your can of cider before taking a gulp down. “you cooked ramyeon often?”

he wipes his lips with a napkin provided on the table as he opens his mouth and closes it again, hesitating.

“i, uh...” he tried to stop himself from chuckling before continuing, “i had to, honestly.”

“oh?” your eyebrows furrowed.

“yeah...” heeseung closes his eyes, giving a push so that it covers tightly before opening, “i don’t have that much pocket money with all with eunho but...” he lets out a silent sigh, “also with my parents as well.”

a pout forms on your lips as you both devour your ramyeons respectively, you’re facing the window as you observe people living their lives, still reserving your hearing for heeseung’s story which you remain quiet so he can speak at his own pace. because you understand that. no one has ever stopped to listen to you before, so you want to do that to others as well. hopefully.

“my parents are still together, but it’s just, they had me young. like our age.” heeseung uses his pointer finger to move to point between himself and you, “and they’re in their 30s and i’m a teenager, and i have a newborn little brother. and they...”

the boy slurps up a few noodles before using the spoon to drink the broth, letting out a satisfying sigh before his expression returns, “well, the consequence of having young parents is that they aren’t fully ‘grown up’ when they have me.” he drops his hand from making the air quotes. “so i grew up with parents who had fun. so much fun. i was five when i stumbled upon them arriving home as i was getting a drink from the kitchen. they had this wretched scent on them that when i grew up, i realized it was alcohol and weed smell.”

you glimpse at him, your head twisted towards him to let you know that you’ve been listening the whole time. “so, i don’t grow up with much care from them. had to resort to ramyeon to satisfy my need. but i grew up, and they also grew up. their jobs become even more stable. and then my mom got pregnant again last year. and so, heechan was born. my little brother.”

taking a breather for himself as he eats. you rub your hand on your head—feeling along with the frustration that you can assume will get worse as he continues.

“they have a stable income now and my baby brother was born and i just can notice the difference. heechan got new things and is coddled because he is that young which i acknowledge. but, my parents took care of him, and seemed to, i guess, forget about me. like they are a trio of family, the real family, and i was just there. like a fucking mistake they had no choice but to give money to so that at least i don’t fucking die in their care.” he lets out a scoff and shakes his head, thinking of how ridiculous it must be to be jealous of a fucking baby.

“so, i had no choice but to resort to ramyeon almost all the time until someone back home made enough homemade food. parents give me a good amount of pocket money but...” his eyes move to capture yours in contact, “you know who i am friends with.”

you nod your head, continuing to eat as your creased eyebrows area still hasn’t gone relaxing once again. the way the boy seemed to let go of a bit of control in the middle makes another squeeze of your heart clear. neglection is the topic that bruises you as you have your fair share of neglection as well.

“well, you made killer ramyeons though, heeseung. and you should know about that.” he giggles at your statement, before letting out a small ‘thank you’ as you both continue to eat.

his words stuck in your mind as it is such a familiar story, albeit with the different details of yours; you noted that both of you are different sides of the same coin. yet, the awkward silence lingers between the two of you as you finish both of your meals—knowing just how bleak your situation is because you don’t know how to reply to his words. in pity? empathic? you don’t know. as you take another sip of your neoguri broth, only a few millimetres are left inside the pot as you can see the bottom of its surface. you glance at heeseung’s pot to find it also emptied before looking up to meet his face. even with a slight gesture with your head nodding to the door, he catches your thinking and nods his head.

you stack up his pot onto yours and help clean the table where you both eat as the boy stands beside you waiting, but you feel his gaze on you as you finish up. the breeze of the open air hits you as you step outside the restaurant, your mind determining the way to go as you catch the footsteps of heeseung following right behind you. it takes a few strides before heeseung can keep up with your pace, both of you walking side by side with nowhere to go except the direction you picked. but, the silence lets you enjoy more of what this part of seoul has. even if you aren’t here that much when you move in near the neighbourhood, it is still the most peaceful neighbourhood you’ve been to.

turning your head side by side randomly, your eyes caught onto one store as your movement paused. heeseung, who was still walking, had turned his head to see your stopped figure, before returning to stand beside you. then, he realizes what stopped you.

you strolled forward one foot at a time before stepping onto the step that houses the door that you had to push open. a smooth jazz song plays as you step into the room. the walls are a mix of plain painted alongside one that is just collages of musician posters. racks stand at the centre of the room, housing pressed vinyl discs covered with sleeves of colourful pictures. it’s different from those large cd stores you visited when you searched for the next disc to play on your walkman. smaller, intimate. yet, the aura is still familiar to you.

the people who are walking are mostly older than you, showing the generation and technology differences between you and them. most of the sleeves you’ve seen are of genres you rarely listened to. jazz, soul, funk. and then you approached the rock and alternative section and you found artists you’ve recognized. it is ordered in the alphabet but certain musicians have a section based on them, even based on one of their releases. a certain album caught your eye, bigger than what you used to see.

“hmm...” you chuckle as you pick up the sleeve from the rack, letting you observe the people sitting down on the sofa with the black background.

“the cranberries?” heeseung reads the name, now standing beside you, leaning to look at the album you are holding. you turned the sleeve around to read the recognizable tracklist.

“i own the cd for this album. i maybe played it so much that if i don’t take care of it, it might have scratches.” you chuckle as you trace the list of songs with your fingertip, stopping on each song as you can hear the certain tune playing from your memory.

“music has been the only thing that kept me grounded throughout all of this.” you blink away when you feel the strain from staying eye contact for a long time, finding the boy beside you from the corner of your eyes. “you know, from moving around so much and with the situation i am in.”

“how many times have you moved?” heeseung questioned, his hands also reaching out to study the rack in front of him.

“much more than you can imagine. it started in fourth grade and every year since then, i moved around. mostly throughout seoul and the towns near it. that is before we had to get farther out and that is why i moved to woonmyung for my second year of high school.” you mentioned the name of your high school; your mind too tired to even add the high school at the end because you have too many schools to be added into your catalogue.

“the thing is the reason i move around is very unconventional. my parents aren’t part of law enforcement or military where they have to move. they’re just... i don’t know. a corporate employee? con people? i can’t pinpoint.” you sighed as you felt your shoulders relaxing.

“is your family the one who moved to that big house near the field?”

you put the cranberries vinyl back into the rack as you hummed whilst nodding your head. slowly, a smile grows on your face as you turn your head to heeseung, “what, what other things have you discovered?”

heeseung scratches his nape before replying, “that that family- well, your family was running away from something. that your family was filthy rich and that people wanted to get a piece of something. like people our age too, greedy for more money and all. that you are a genius.”

you chuckle, taking in the rumours of your family in clarity and succinct manner other than the many whispers you always received as no one ever dared to even confront you about. to challenge the truth when a reliable witness is there all along.

“well, to clarify, if i may,” you turn your whole body towards heeseung, “i’m not a genius. i don’t know how it came to be of the rumour. i’ve overheard people talk about me being ranked first in my school or whatnot and it’s just plain false. my scores are shitty until now because of the multiple people stealing my homework to claim it as theirs. i realized that people mentioning me for having the first rank would then put more targets behind me. and so... well it does alongside everything else.” you nip your bottom lip after finishing your monologue as you walk around the section where you did. finding more of the alternative artists you usually listen to before caressing your hand to move the vinyl around so you could see the familiar and unfamiliar album covers.

“and, with my family, there is truth in there.” you started, peeking from the corner of your eyes to watch heeseung’s eyebrows lift with a slight pout on his lips. “the reason we moved around so much is the people my parents owe to. when we moved around a lot, we had to work in tandem to move important items and all of that. so, it’s not a surprise when i found out my parents’ collection of letters from banks, debt collectors, and all that. so, i choose and read them cause i realize that they’re not opened for a reason.”

you chuckled, “i heard the stories of their glory days when dad had this stable high-paying corporate job. i was so young back then that only vivid memories played in my head when i remembered it. but they can’t keep up with it after dad was fired and ended up splurging with their money, trying to keep up with their socialite lifestyle. when i found some random men on the living room couch after getting back home from school, i realized how much greed had gotten into them. we had to move the next day and i can assume it’s because of the men who visited the other day.”

eyes moving around the shelf, you landed on the rack that had the label m on it as you approached. you pushed the vinyl back to the rack when you looked down to see the ever-so-familiar name of mazzy star. “it’s the reason i don’t show any of that side about my family even if they want to. that wealth which then can be referred to as their con lifestyle. but, i usually got the brunt of it, anyway. how could i not when i have to get out almost every time? not because of school, but also how suffocating living with them is. that’s why i settle with music playing and eyes on the computer and living my day like that.” you shift your head towards heeseung as the last of your words.

his figure approaches you as he leans in, eyeing the album cover before noticing the band name that is etched on the cover. “oh mazzy star! i just gotten to know them, from the space station.”

“space station?” you asked back.

“the moonstruck fan i mentioned to you before. there’s been discussion of the music inspirations or people that are in the same realm as moonstruck. mazzy star is one of them. we called it the celeste aura. the music is magical enough it transcends space, otherworldly.” heeseung explains as he pulls out the mazzy star album.

“because of that, i got into mazzy star. though you can feel the difference between them being a bit more folk than moonstruck’s rock. but, i like it.”

your eyes blinked as you looked down at the album in his hand, a smile growing on your lips as your mind whirled about the information and what to say next when it came back to you, “well if i want to add to the list of artists that has the same aura, i would say the cranberries. it’s the right combination of dreamy but also grounded, and then it is a gateway to other bands similar to them like slowdive. though, i agree with what you say that moonstruck seems to be much more elevated.”

heeseung chuckles after flipping the sleeve to the back side, scanning the track list before looking upwards to the window to see how the sky has become the orange of twilight. you heard the short ringtone playing from his phone as he picked it up and observed the message. typing back, you pick up the familiar clicking noise of the phone’s keyboard as heeseung spells out his answer.

“my mom asked me if i could take care of heechan for a bit. i, uh, agree but said to her i was playing pretty far from home so-“

“we should head back then.” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the text from the small screen.

“yeah. i’m sorry that i cut this part short-“

“no, no, that’s okay.” you reached out to him, feeling your hand landed on his upper arm as if to stop him from looking away. you felt the warmth travelling to your palm as you let go of him. that’s when you sensed a sigh on your face as you continued to peer at him. blinking away, you let out a small smile as you shifted your head towards the entrance and heeseung followed with a nod.

walking towards the train station, you and heeseung stood side by side as even a graze of you against each other made you both giggle. then, you use your power to nudge him harder and he has an offended look on his face as you take a few strides away from him before he catches your hand and pulls you back beside him. you give him a side eye as it’s his turn to push you around playfully across the empty street. the walk continues as you recognized the familiar sight of stores nearby the station. but you paused your body once again as you read the signage in front of you.

“body piercings and tattoos. walk-ins welcome.”

it is a desire of yours to want piercings. you’ve seen girls who wear beautiful earrings on their earlobes and you used to have those but the holes close in on themselves when it has been a long time of not using a pair. you wanted a familiar ear piercing but also a different one, but either the time or place didn’t match up with you so you haven’t gotten time to actually do it.

that is when a shadowy figure goes past in front of you and approaches the open door to the establishment. following it, you watch the familiar backside with the light blue shirt stepping into the shadows as you can’t help but follow him, going up the stairs before he grazes open the frail curtain that lets you see the place. it has many drawings stuck onto the walls and a leaning chair by the window before it stretches back to the other side of the room where a hallway leads to other rooms.

“hi guys,” a young man spoke up from behind the desk. his arm has tattoos all over it and a few piercings on his face and ears. your eyes focused on the miniature ear on top of the reception counter, seeing the many piercings on it of all variations.

“you have booked an appointment?”

“no, i’ve seen that you accept walk-ins,” heeseung replied on your behalf before looking at your side who is staring at the pierced ear displayed.

“i would like to get a piercing,” he replies, making you lift your eyebrows as you turn your head towards him.

“and her?”

“oh,” you felt an arm warped around your shoulder bringing you closer. “she’s with me.”

“y-yeah. i would like a piercing too,” you replied.

“great!” the man said as he wrote something before standing up and leading you towards the area by the window. you and heeseung sat beside each other as he asked, “what piercing do you want?”

“um, can i get one right here?” you ask as you pinch your left ear on the place that you want. having seen people having this specific piercing makes you want to have one for yourself.

“a helix piercing. what about you, man?”

“i’ll get the same one but on my right ear.” you turned your head towards heeseung as he continued to look forward.

“nice. well, do you both want to have the same piercing?” the man stands up and he picks up the piercing gun and alcohol wipes.

“yeah, if you want to.” you realise he was referring to you as you face him and nod your head.

looking at the catalogue of ear piercings available, your eyes landed on one with a star on the front. pointing towards the pair, heeseung nods his head as you show it to the man. that’s when he also asks, “how long does it take for it to heal? i’ll probably want to change piercing to a hoop one right after.”

“well, helix piercings usually take pretty long for it to heal around 6 to 9 months. i’ll give you two an ointment that will help with soothing the skin from the pain,” the man replies as you nod your head. he then drags a rolling chair to the seat in front of you both.

“who wants to go first?”

you and heeseung looked at each other with small smiles on your faces before heeseung spoke up, “i can go first.”

the rolling chair moves in front of heeseung as you notice something on your hand. looking down, you could feel his fingers slotting in between yours as you turned your head to see heeseung moving his head. his eyes looking right at you as he blinks, perceiving the alcohol wipe on the helix part of his right ear.

“take a deep breath,” the man says as heeseung curls his fingers into your hand, making you do the same as you try to distract him. the sudden hard grip on your head combines with a slight hiss coming from him as the man goes to the back of heeseung’s ear to screw the piercing up.

“you didn’t bleed, but you might feel your ear getting warmer. let me move to your girl.” the man spoke out so nonchalantly that you can’t help your cheeks warming up by the words. your ears were already heated, so when you felt the cold alcohol wipe, you nearly jumped out of your seat. but heeseung held you down as you turned your head to face him once again.

“you’re gonna be okay,” he mumbled, your grip on his hand tightening as you sensed heeseung brushing the back of your hand, soothing you as you looked at him.

“take deep a breath,” and a quick pierce on the skin follows it. your hands gripping onto him as you breathe out.

the interlocking hands didn’t let go as heeseung paid for the piercings to the man. it doesn’t let go as you meet the purple sky of the outside world, walking down the pavement. it doesn’t let go as you find yourselves on the train station’s platform, both of your heads looking at the track where the next set of trains will come and pick you up. and it doesn’t let go as you hear the beautiful vocalization by moonstruck. both of your bodies remain in mercy to the moving train as you have your head leaning against him.

he offered it, actually. heeseung knows that with your headset, it will be uncomfortable for you to wear it and listen to your cd. even with the littlest amount of moments that still feel so large, you would not take this opportunity for granted. but truthfully, you hoped that this little trip would change his mind. that all you had to do to complete it is to tell him you’re going to be more careful, more aware, for his and your own sake in the eyes of his “friends”, to not let them see you both associating with each other.

heeseung rested his head on the window behind him, making both he and you watch the sunset around the field outside. moonstruck’s music becomes the perfect background as you are in a meditative state. the grip of the interlocking fingers is a little loose to let both of your hands breathe, but still with both curled fingers for both of you.

“(y/n)?”

“yes?” you lifted your head, turning to face him.

“do you want to go to my place? just so that i have someone to look out for heechan? i can bring you home too right after.” his voice was gentler with a little raspiness to it.

you try to not the corner of your lips lift too high as you stare at him, nodding your head as he replies with his own smile before he brings his arm behind your shoulders and lets you lay your head back on his shoulder—lasting until you arrived at the train station for your town.

shadows cast from both of you because of the streetlights above, walking in the dark towards heeseung’s home with your interlocked hands and shared earbuds. heeseung seems to bring you through alternative routes to avoid the busier places where he and you both know that they will be there eating or just hanging out. so you breathe out in relief when you sense your walking pace slowing down.

in front of you is a quaint house with an open gravelled parkway for a car to park. you instead only found a bicycle with a manageable look, crooked on the front part but still is rideable. heeseung guides you to the front door as he slowly opens the door. the sound of the running tap water rings from another part of the house whilst you take your shoes off. he then guides you towards a partly open door and pushes it, letting you look at the dimly lit room and the screensaver from a computer set adding colour.

“heeseung?” someone calls for him as far as the running tap.

“stay here. i’ll be right back,” the boy answers as he steps out to meet with the person who called him. because of that, this is a perfect opportunity for you to observe his room. the first thing you notice is the large moonstruck poster beside his desk. an image you have seen before sticking onto the sides of the building back when you lived in seoul. you can definitely feel the eagerness that you received from heeseung when he talks about moonstruck reflected in this very space. a shelf stands tall as a familiar case shows its image to you, letting you see the moonstruck and nexus’ cds he has, but also the cd of artists you’ve spotted have similarities to them, evidently with the mazzy star cd.

you turned your head when you picked up the sound of a closed door and a shadow by the room’s window of a woman stepping away in heels and what you can assume as going out clothes. you turned your head once again and saw heeseung’s head peeking inside the room from the door which startled you.

“he’s ready.”

nipping your lip; you carefully walked towards the living room as you heard a sigh, then a little exclamation. sitting in front of the couch and on top of a blanket rested a baby boy. his limbs wide stretch as his gigantic eyes stare at you and at heeseung, who sits beside you. with a baby bottle ready, heeseung lifts the baby up and holds it comfortably with his hands on the baby’s waist and resting him on his thigh.

“this is heechan.” heeseung says with a much brighter tone like the one that you only caught when he laughs. “and this is (y/n). you can call her noona when you’re a little older. hi noona!” heeseung lifts baby heechan’s arms to create a wave, making you approach closer to the kid.

slowly, you kneeled down in front of the two. your eyes staring at the little hand with a pout formed on your lips. “hi heechan.” you replied while waving your hand in rhythm with the baby. then, you push your open palm forward, making heeseung put his brother’s hand onto your palm. the size difference makes you silently coo, your eyes watering and your vision blurry. taking a sharp breath, you blink it away and give a gentle smile as you also catch the baby giggling. you looked up to be in eye contact with the older brother, a smile etched on his face as he let go of the baby’s hand; letting him drag his hand on your palm until it came in contact with your finger, wrapping it around it tightly.

chuckles come from both of you as you turn your body so you can comfortably look at your phone without bothering them. the time is nearly 7 at night and you know you can’t stay here longer.

“i have to go.” you looked at heeseung and your finger wrapped around heechan’s hand.

“let us bring you back then.”

“are you sure? didn’t your mom give you some tasks to do with heechan?”

heeseung scoffs before answering, “just taking care of him. she’s heading out to meet her friends. it’s what she always asks me to do when she wants to go out. i’ll let her and dad too, of course. i’ll let them have fun and enjoy their life too.”

your shoulders sag as you take in his answer, looking away as you recalibrate all of this. he did promise to bring you back—and you also see heechan’s eye smile as if he knows he will go outside. you nodded for the answer.

the streetlights line up the empty streets that encompass heeseung’s neighborhood. you with your school backpack tug behind while heeseung’s upper body is wrapped around with a cloth long enough to carry heechan against him—as if it is a thing his mom asked him to learn too. looking downwards, you see how heechan’s legs wiggle in excitement as his head is tilted back. eyes shining on both the lit lights but also the moon that decorates the raven sky.

“heechan seems happy,” you commented as heeseung chuckled.

“he’s always happy when he gets a chance to go out of the house.”

“he doesn’t?” heeseung turns his head to face you, walking in tandem as he thinks about the answer to your query.

“only when he has to go to check-ups. mom and dad also don’t have that much time to bring him outside. so i’m usually the one to do so. we hang around by the fields, mostly. this is the first one he goes out at night. usually, he gets sleepy after i give him his food.”

his answer seeps down into your mind as you nod. you let out an enormous sigh as you continue to walk in silence. the step and little drag of footsteps decorating the atmosphere alongside the busy lit-up signs coming from the different blocks that still have their shops open. yet you both walk farther from it, heading to your house that is near the outskirts of where civilisation dimmers. a house with hedges surrounded by fields and a view of a transmission tower a little farther down the road.

“i’m glad that none of us gets called today.” your lips pour out the thoughts that have been clouding your mind.

“what?”

“you too, right? eunho calls you to come to him anytime?” you ask, testing your hypothesis. but when he seems reluctant to answer. you decide to open up about your side.

“seona too. she usually calls around 4 to 5 near the sunset. i had to go to her, with my bags full of paper filled with the homework for next week so she and the rest could copy that. or even stealing them, for that matter. then, i-“ heeseung gazes as you paused, a slow blink coming from you before you continue, “they usually forced me to do something for them. cleaning their shoes mostly. treating them food while i will stand aside and watch them eat.”

“and you don’t deny them?” heeseung asks back, a question that seemed to affect him with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his nostrils flared just a bit.

“i, well, truthfully, i can’t.” you force yourself to say the truth that you want to cover up with some obnoxious reply. but, heeseung just gives off the right aura to make you tell him. maybe because he is also experiencing the same thing.

“you have to know, people are not really keen on me. even those in my previous schools. it’s a cycle, if i can define it. the same thing happens every time i move schools even with different flavours from each of them.” you scratch your head, wanting to feel the invading thoughts go away. a huge exhale comes out of you once again as you both take the walk approaching a street that goes to the outskirts of the neighborhood. standing alone in the middle of the fields is a house lit up behind hedges of leaves.

you both step into the darkness as heechan’s face is covered with shadows; letting him see more of the stars shine bright, taking dominance from the artificial lights.

“i’m glad that they seem to not want us to go to them today. it’s nice to not think about her and all the things i haven’t done to please her,” you concluded, pouting your lips as you also looked upwards like heechan, finding the sprinkles of stars adding to the majestic sight of the moon and the night sky. heeseung seemed to not reply to the answer that you wanted, and so, you just let him walk with you—side by side—until you arrived at the front of your carpool that still goes deeper into where your house stands.

the lone streetlight perfectly shows people is living here. you turn your body to face heeseung as you slowly step back before pausing.

“thanks...” you remarked.

“what for?” his eyebrows lifted.

“granting that wish of mine. I know you might go to the rooftop less because i understand your situation. it’s better if we go our separate ways rather than make these whole things happening to each of us worse.” you replied with a steady voice, hoping that it was stable enough that he couldn’t hear the little trembles on some words you’ve spoken.

heeseung replied with a small smile on his face as you also etched yours on your face before fixing your hair, letting the light refract on the piercing on your ear like he has on his own. so you turned your body around to head down the path to your front door.

“hey, (y/n)!”

you paused, turning your head to peer behind your shoulder.

“i’m not going anywhere. you still have to put the ointment that i’m holding for your piercing.”

you giggled at his proposition. turning around to face him again as heechan is also looking at you with a little pout of his own.

“okay,” you replied before turning your head as heeseung stopped you once again.

“and we haven’t shared our phone contacts yet.”

“oh yeah!” you approach him as you tug your phone out of the skirt pocket. the silver strap shining as it reflects the light from the streetlamp. you step to stand beside heeseung as you open the new contact. the boy said his numbers one by one as you pressed the key of the keyboard, heechan’s eyes staring at your nimble fingers before he let out a small shriek to see them move.

“done and i’m sending you a text.” a chime came from heeseung’s pocket after what you said while stepping back.

“thank you. and one last thing?” heeseung cuts your movement once again.

“yes?” you pushed your tongue to the wall of your cheek, holding back a cheeky laugh at his action.

“you want to go to the fields with me?”

eyebrows raised, you take in his request as you remember he mentioned it as the place he usually goes out with heechan.

“you shared your side of seoul with me. so i think you might want to know what i do with my pastime,” the boy added, his adam’s apple moving as he gulped. you let out a tight-lip smile whilst thinking back to what occurred between the two of you today. your eyes looking down at the hand that was holding yours almost all the time when you both head back to your town. the connection between you two feels more and more like a chemical reaction that can be bombastic.

“let me know when through sms,” you replied and watched as his smile widened. his eyes are also smiling, just like his little brother does before he stops himself and glances back at you with a sheepish smile on his face.

“alright.”

“okay.” you answered his answer, tilting your head to signal to your house. “good night, heeseung.” your farewell reaches him even as you step backwards. your eyes staring one last time at the brothers who are staring at you. little heechan waved his hand as heeseung looked at you before you turned around to head into your house.

you beeline straight to your room, putting your backpack on the bed as you look at your minimalist room with only a few posters that survived on every move of your interests. eyeing the computer on the desk, you grab your headset from the walkman and go to the desk, putting it gently so that it doesn’t press onto your pierced helix, plugging it into the cpu before you open the music player.

as you press play, the sound of a familiar dreamy song reminds you of the boy with his own ear piercing showing up in your head, letting you let out a small smile as you open the browser of the world wide web.

-

《this is not a drill》 《this is real》 《moonstruck is releasing a new album in a couple of days》 《from: silver

《oh my gosh! oh my gosh! oh my gosh!》 《from: 1004

《i will make a new thread on the forum to discuss the new album》 《so that it doesn’t crowd this side where we talked about general things》 《from: pearl

《thanks, pearl!》 《from: silver

《thank you once again, pearl!》 《i will discuss anything about this album as new information comes out》 《from: 1004

heeseung eyes the texts between the three users as he can’t help the giddiness flowing inside him. it’s not the first time he had ever been there since the beginning of a moonstruck release. he was there when breathe was released, but a surprise release like this sends his expectations high. yet, he knows that moonstruck will not disappoint. and he knows he can now share his giddiness with like-minded people.

he knows he had to share this information with you as soon as possible. yet, something about you is also pressing into his mind. something that he needed someone to help untangle. someone who won’t make fun of him for expressing his feelings unlike eunho, youngbin, and the others.

《i’ve been having a predicament》 《someone in my life has been opening up about their life to me》 《it is very personal and i notice we have similarities in how the world treated us》 《i introduced moonstruck to them and they seemed so happy with it》 《whenever we listen to her together》 《but》 《i am hesitating if i should reciprocate》 《from: bambi

heeseung sighs as he awaited for a reply. but when a minute passed, he knew it wouldn’t come. everybody seems to move to the other thread to discuss the new moonstruck album. he wanted to move there too, of course. but then he won’t see if anyone replied to him.

then his eyes flick to the chat portion of the screen when a line of text shows up underneath his lines.

《that’s a dilemma for sure》 《have you opened up to them as well?》 《from: silver

《yeah, i did》 《i mostly talked about the reasoning why i could make a great ramyeon》 《from: bambi

《ramyeon seems so good for a late-night snack》 《and that’s good on your part》 《you have opened up to them》 《why still hesitating?》 《from: silver

heeseung stared at the last sentence silver gave to him. words clouding his mind as he tried to piece them up to create cohesion.

《i guess i don’t want them to rid of the persona of me they see because of it》 《they’re so nice and gentle》 《from: bambi

《seems to me they see you as a companion, bambi》 《from: pearl

《i agree with pearl》 《you have opened up to them and they have opened wider to you》 《why not go all the way?》 《from: silver

《if it does well》 《from: bambi

《i feel that it will do well based on what i’ve read》 《maybe introduce them to something that you usually do》 《maybe you can tell them about the new moonstruck album since they seemed to enjoy her as well》 《make a space for both of you to talk about anything》 《from: pearl

that could work. heeseung remembers his promise to you for that field. he wants to share that side of him with you. the side of him which encompasses all of his feelings into one activity of the day as he refreshes his mind while listening to moonstruck. maybe he could invite you to do the same.

《i will plan for that》 《thank you to both silver and pearl》 《from: bambi

《of course, bambi :)》 《from: pearl

《you’re welcome, bambi》 《hope it goes well between the two of you》 《from: silver

the next day at school, all heeseung can focus on is the back of your head. it is leaning down, writing both the written and verbal explanations given by your teacher in front of the class. in small glances, he could catch eunho sometimes looking at you, but also seona a few seats at the front. when he had done his task, heeseung had no other activity but to “hang out” with the boys—usually sitting in silence as he let the vulgar conversation bounce between the other boys in the background of the waste dumping site.

there he caught onto a few other things that eunho has the boys do for financial gain. sometimes, girls will come to their hideout alongside youngbin. they all are in the same shirt uniform as the one he usually wears, but creases form in them like they do in the frowns on their faces. youngbin then gave them a thick envelope for eunho to open and find a stack of money. said boy split it up, giving little to the girls before they stepped aside. with the pattern forming the conclusion itself and the time that he had seen one girl he recognizes out and about with a man much older than her and himself, he realizes these girls were doing so to get paid under eunho’s command.

but the same vulgar words were sometimes related to you. he had read the letter that eunho gave to you back on your first day when he saw it peeking from your desk’s doorless drawer. his eyes scanned the words written in familiar handwriting, making him clench his hand to close them against this palm, tearing the paper. it reminds him of how eunho usually refers to “the girl”. there are so many girls that he can talk about using that phrase, but eunho knew of these girls’ names when they came to give him the money. and so, he had associated that eunho was talking about you; and heeseung is forced to listen to it.

it’s the reason he is hesitating to tell you. to want to avoid you as best as possible. yet, it only lessens. the rooftop is still a sacred place for the two of you. sharing the ointment that could help with both of your ear piercings, head nodding to the song playing on heeseung’s walkman of your cd collection you brought home. cds that remind him of moonstruck such as the cranberries and mazzy star. and, sometimes, you place your head on his shoulder like two connecting puzzle pieces while cigarette smoke rises in front of the two of you and your fingers give him the cigarette stick for him to hold between his lips.

it’s the same thing as today. he peeks from the corners of his eyes to watch you drag another smoke. the fire on the blunt flares up as it burns more and more of the outside layer.

“hey,” heeseung cuts off the silence.

“hmm?” you peek from the corner of your eyes just like him.

“i still want to bring you to the field, you know? do you have time today?”

looking elsewhere, your eyes flicker back to him as you flick the ash from the burning cigarette, a small smile on your face. “i have nothing to do after this. so yeah.”

“great. i’ll see you by the gate after the class finishes?”

“always.” you give him a thin smile. his eyes examining how your own are looking downwards. the way you had to hold your face from smiling wider made him smile instead, nudging his shoulder against yours as you both burst into giggles.

heeseung stepped aside by the main gate as he looked back to the class building, eyes scanning every person who went in front of him until his eyes landed on the girl that had been running around his mind for a month now. you who walked with a sense of timidness, your eyes looking around the people around you as you had this neutral face that did not allow people to read. yet, heeseung can read it. he walked like that before, anxiety coursing through his veins, as he had to stay aware. and when you catch his eyes, a small smile grows as you quicken your step to reach him.

watching you make his heartache as he looked at your bandaged limbs and reality hits. how could someone hurt a person this innocent? you don’t even try to bother other people with the stories you told him, but they still see you as inconvenient. someone that could be ruled over. that and the stories you’ve told before on how you moved around, not able to create a stable support system outside of your forsaken family. it’s also how you opened up to him, recognizing the similar agony that washed over the two of you.

heeseung had to scramble his mind once again, repeating every sentence that he had practised by himself, every scenario that could happen after he told you. he used to seek help, seek comfort in other people such as eunho back when they were still “friends” and civil. he remembered a trip he, eunho, youngbin, and the boys had when they were having their summer break back in middle school. using their saved money to actually head to jeju island. no parents are involved. just a bunch of boys having fun and forgetting every single problem they have here. torments that clouded every single one until it succumbed to eunho too at the end of the trip, changing him into the best friend heeseung ever had to his primary tormentor instead. because of that, he never seeks help again. until you reach out with your story to him.

“where to go?” you stood in front of him, making him startled as you let out a chuckle reserved only for him. instead of pointing and saying the direction of his usual resting place, he holds onto your hand and tangles them in each other, pulling you to walk beside him as he throws away the worries even for just a moment.

a few roads taken, he brought you to the beginning of the fields. the tall emerald green grass blown by the breeze that also reaches him. he brought the steps to a stop, observing the way the grasses moved about following where the wind came from. heeseung senses the heaviness in his lungs washes away as he takes a deep breath and exhales. a gentle brush against his pierced ear makes him focus on his hearing—catching a large exhale coming from beside him as well.

“this is breathtaking,” you mumble to yourself. his head turns as look at your face. the timidness is long gone as you let yourself relax. your hands wrapped with each other still as he guides you on the narrow asphalt road before heading to the side, the grassy patch that slopes down towards the field.

letting your hand go, you followed his movement as he sat down on the patch—legs curled as he rested the soles of his feet on the slope, allowing him to rest his hands on his thighs. you let your legs outstretched as if you’re a child waiting to be pushed down on the playground slide. your eyes follow heeseung’s hands who reach for his backpack and pull out his trusty cd walkman, giving one wired bud to you as he puts one for himself. his thumbs press against the rewind button. the sound of the cd spinning before it stops: signalling him to press play.

taking in the music, you both stayed quiet as heeseung took in the familiar view. the clear blue sky is decorated with thin clouds. kites flying at the back of his view near the large electrical tower that reaches to touch the space above. its large wires holding onto the other towers stretched further away from both of you. when he shifted his vision, you already had your eyes closed, a sway from your head before you opened your eyelid slowly, blinking twice before turning your head to meet him.

“this is what i usually do when i have no other things to do. moonstruck and the fields,” he mumbles. his hands holding each other as the walkman rested against his thigh.

“it’s genuinely nice. i can see why heechan seems to like it so much.” he chuckled as you remembered the brief mention of when he usually brought heechan here with him.

and it goes quiet once again. you both letting the ends of your outfit flutter against your skin, not minding that your bottoms will be grimy from the dirt.

“eunho and i are, well, were friends.” heeseung pushes out the first sentence he has to make you know, eyes slightly tilted so he can read your reaction. “we’re friends from middle school. we joined taekwondo together and met the rest of our friends there. he was actually a smart kid, ranked top 5 back in his elementary school and he also got bullied for that.”

“he was there for me and i was there for him.” the boy spoke, his face continuing to grimace as he recalled how everything was wonderful for younger him. “that is until this trip we had when we all went to jeju island. eunho was richer than all of us. his parents owned a manufacturing company operating in this very town. on that trip, he learned his mom was cheating with his dad’s best friend when his dad called him about their divorce proceedings. after that call, he swims in the ocean alone in front of where we and the guide were hanging about.”

heeseung closes his eyes and tightens them until he can only see the darkness before he opens them again, “the waves were crashing hard and he was pushed to the shore, unconscious. the guide gave him cpr as i stood aside, worrying for the first person i ever labelled as my friend. he coughed up the salt water and i noticed how his eyes were tearing up. it is because of pain, but there is also something else. that accident happened one day before we went back and on our last night there, he isolated himself. the next morning, he became reckless. like something stretches his self-control, and then it snapped. and it escalates.”

the boy wiggles his thumbs with each other, licking his drying lips. “the first day of school after that trip, he tackled our school bully, who has been insulting me, him, and the others since our first year. i stood beside him as eunho was looking at the field that was just mud from the rain last night. the bully stands there naked and covered with mud. ‘he has to act like a pig for being the pig he is’ he said. that’s when I realized eunho was not the friend i once knew. and i stay by him until now.” he peeks at you as you nibble on your bottom lip.

“then why didn’t you stay away from him?” your soft voice speaks out with your eyebrows furrowed.

heeseung can only sigh after he picked the sentences that he knew you might ask. after asking the people on the space station forum, he had to reflect on himself. he knew that staying by eunho’s side hurt him much more than when he realized he changed three years ago, and it escalated more and more. but he realized the reasons were simple for a situation so complex.

“eunho still looks at me as a “friend”, well, crony. he gives the other task to get him money that will also help with our meals and he needs it fast. that’s why he makes us to do some shit. mostly porch stealing and shoplifting. but he also had girls under his grasp, working after school to meet with older guys to give him money." heeseung shakes his head, reacting to the words he uttered himself and how ridiculous it sounds, “other than that, it’s better to side with him rather than being solo. the other students already refer to me as eunho’s friend and they can’t let that nickname go no matter how much i’ve been avoiding him. more bullies exist in our school, even the year above us and under us. if i’m alone, i’m more prone to being bullied further. it’s just that the bullies who bullied us are the top of the top in woonmyung high school.”

moonstruck’s voice continues on in the background of the conversation. the worry on your face changed into sorrow as your chest takes in the air rapidly. the shining sun reflects its light into your pupil, letting him watch the way your eyes glisten. heeseung raises his arms to wrap around your shoulders as he brings you closer to him. your head tilted as it rests against his shoulder before you turn your head to the sleeve of his shirt. sniffles come from you as he can’t help to feel it as well. his eyes looking somewhere else as he tried to balance out the explosion of emotion he is feeling.

“i feel so sorry for you,” you mumbled before leaning back so you could glance at him. a small smile formed on his face.

“i feel so sorry for you, too.” heeseung replied, “but when you told me about your situation, it made me want to open up too. i just can’t let you bear that burden on me when you open yourself to me so easily.”

“it’s not easy for me at all,” you nip your bottom lip, “i- i find you comfortable to talk about this because i saw myself in you. the similarities of our situation and all that. i know i can see myself as a friend of yours, bonding about our suffering.”

the boy gives such a face that makes you cower away. that is when he cups your jaw and makes you return to him once again.

“thank you for trusting me,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

“thank you for also letting me hear your story.”

heeseung’s smile grows as he continues to stare at the beautiful view, the lingering heaviness still evident and how it crawls towards you as well. “you know? there’s something that i usually do to get rid of this feeling.”

“yeah?”

he hums to answer, nibbling his lip as he turns to you. “cover your ear for this.”

squinting your eyes, you let your hand reach up to cover your other ear, amplifying moonstruck’s voice instead as you looked at heeseung. that is when his next action startles you into chuckles.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!”

heeseung squeezes his eyes shut and forms his hands into fists as he lets out a loud yell that vibrates against the atmospheric field. the sound wave disperses alongside his worries, opening his eyes, he calms his hyperventilating self, much more aware of his beating heart as he tilts to find your baffled face that lets out little chuckles. he follows, scanning your guffawed self before you give him a smile.

“you look better,” you stated, earning you a smile from him as well.

“it’s nice. screaming is nice cause it lets out all the pain you have in you in one swoop,” he echoes.

“cathartic...” you mumbled out and heeseung replied with nods.

“being the one without a voice, screaming out just helps me realise how big of a voice i am. that i still have myself to rely on,” the boy continued, adding more to his usual doing by the fields. that’s when he sensed your palm pushing him backwards. his eyes widen as he watches you.

“FUCK YOU!” you let out a loud and elongated yell until nearly all the breath in your lungs is out. your hyperventilation follows his as you glance back at him, a grin on his face as he can’t help to brush your cheeks. his thumb caresses near the corner of your mouth, pushing it outwards to make you let out a smile.

“you looked much more relaxed,” he commented. the creases on your face are smooth out, letting go of certain burdens you must have held back for a while now. he enjoys seeing you like this.

“thanks to you,” you replied, your hand not even reaching up to move heeseung’s hand on your cheek. instead, he watches as your eyes flick upward and downward on his face, lasting a few more seconds than usual before going back to his eyes. to answer, he scoots himself closer to your body—skin-to-skin contact. his eyes observe your facial structure, how all of them culminate into the beautiful face that is yours as he leaned in. your eyes flutter close as the boy watches, his forehead resting against yours as well as his pointy nose grazing yours.

push through and push through he did, tilting his head to one side as he slots his lips on yours. his thumb caressed your cheek before the other hand reached up, grazing against the rubbery skin of the wired buds on each of your ears as he cradled your face. your eyelashes rest against your cheeks when he leans back, finding how your lips are parted as you open your eyelids. your eyes staring back at him, cloudy before it dissipates as your hand reaches for his face.

heeseung held back his breath as you caressed his prominent cheekbone. every caress seems more like you want to remember every touch of his face. the boy leans forward once again, feeling the graze of your breath against his skin as he lets you take a turn and steady the pace. your fingers walk along his shoulder to his nape one by one. hooded eyes staring back at him as he nudges his nose back against yours, letting you take the lead as you tilt your head and place your lips back onto his. your hand that is on his nape pushes his head forward.

fireworks and butterflies all flutter inside heeseung. his limbs taking control to hold you close as you raise your other arm up and place on his back. his hands slide down your body as he holds onto your blazer-covered waist. both of your lips are moving in tandem with a tinge of chaos that he doesn’t mind. little clashes of teeth show the eagerness alongside your parted lips that makes him try to poke his tongue through. instead of being disgusted by it, you accept with how your mouth wide and take his tongue in. hums come from both of you as his grasp on your waist brings you closer, lifting you slightly onto him when he senses the circular music player pressing against you two.

he pulls away, looking downward to observe the connecting string between the two of you that got instantly cut as you approached him and sat across his thighs. your skirt overflowing, creating a circle on top of heeseung’s lap as he continued to kiss you, holding you close like you are the only person who could make him this sane after a long time. sunlight is blocked by your figure as you continue to kiss him, returning your hands back behind him as he wraps his around your waist tight. the warmth coming from you thawing the coldness in his heart that has remained frozen for a long, long time. you rest your forehead against him, brows furrowed as heeseung is still taking in the whole emotion and senses that overwhelms him.

slowly, he lifts his eyelids and lets his eyes take in your face, especially your swollen lips. he kissed your jaw before loosening his grip on you so he could admire more of you. the connection between the two of you that are increasing in chemistry as he felt ever more connected with you. and the connection that compels him to ask this.

“moonstruck has a new album coming out in a few days. my parents will not be home then and they will bring heechan too.” his words slowed down as he sensed your hand cupping his cheek, brushing gently against his skin. “do you want to listen to it together and maybe we can... you know...”

“make out?” you guessed and heeseung shakes his head.

“more than that,” he replied, resulting in you raising your eyebrows.

“are you sure?” you then cupped his face with both of your hands.

“with you, i am sure.” he pecked a bit of your palm that he could reach, resulting in you leaning in and pecking his pouty lips.

“okay. i do.”

-

with both of your hands holding something, you looked back at the decorated shelves with their intricate feather ornaments and light-blue colouring. a large poster that reflects the colour of the pink moon in front of the blue sky background. the appearance of the familiar female artist standing at the front looking at the camera; the silhouette of a pair of wings behind her.

angels. the name of moonstruck’s latest album.

placing the cd case on the counter, you let the cashier employee take in your item as you follow your other hand which is still holding something, trailing up the arm to see heeseung who was already peeking at you. his vision returns forward, gazing at the many posters of music events around the wall as you watch him. he had told you that this very store is the one that he shoplifted and then caught, with a tremble in his voice as he spoke those meaningful words even if it is a tad bit different. but you curled your hand against his tight.

“you have me now. we can buy the new album together.”

and indeed you did as heeseung put the amount of cash half of the price before you pushed your hands to the counter and finished the other half. the cashier glances between the two of you, a few seconds longer staying at heeseung before he picks up the money put on the little tray, counting down. you both are still hand in hand, facing forward with your heads following the cd on top of the counter. a sigh of relief coming from heeseung as you both heard the familiar ding of the cash register.

“here you go.” he pushes the cd as you reach to grab it.

“thank you!” you remarked.

“thank you so much.” heeseung follows.

zipping up your backpack and placing the straps back on your shoulders—sensing how safe the newly bought cd is between your own stuff—both of you stride out of the music store as heeseung pushes the glass door wide. the sun is still in the sky, albeit getting lower and lower towards the horizon. you both turn at the intersections and all towards heeseung’s home, towards the commitment you both agreed with when you found out about the new album release.

after that day on the fields, kissing heeseung is slipping into being a part of your nature. sitting down beside each other, having a few talks about today and other things that aren’t mentioned in your text thread, a puff of smoke comes from heeseung’s agape lips as you shared the earbuds of his walkman—the area where you got pierced has a little throbbing feel to it. when you tilt your head and let heeseung meet the gap between his and your lips, the wind brushes your skin alongside the butterfly in your stomach. you could taste the tobacco and menthol flavour you recognised before he pulled away and gave the burning cigarette to you. hooded eyes looking back at you before the eyelids open up once again.

both you and heeseung walked beside each other as you walked the empty road where one to two cars parked alongside bicycles. the intrusive thoughts in your head win as you give heeseung a huge push with your shoulders before you jog away down the road. your giggles ringing throughout the street as heeseung chases you down with a bigger stride and faster pace, nudging you off your momentum as you look back at him. stomping towards the boy before you give another nudge as he retaliates and you move away at the right time, making him miss his target. giggles turned into laughter as you could see heeseung’s pout forming, making you return in front of him as you gave him a little peck on his lips. no words uttered between the two of you, yet you can still communicate with each other.

however, stepping out of your shoes as you enter the front door of the lee household brings you back to reality. your eyes scanning the corridor as heeseung takes the lead—focusing on his room as he seems much more eager than you. not that you are not eager to listen to moonstruck’s new release, but the activity that you’ll be doing whilst doing it. maybe it is because of heeseung’s “friend group” that he is much more brash, but you had to prepare for this too. it is the first time you’re doing it and you're nervous about how will it last and how you will satisfy heeseung. you have little knowledge regarding sex after all even from the reading you did.

yet you trust yourself. that what you both agree to is something you both have trust in each other. something that can elevate your blooming relationship with him. by doing it, heeseung does trust and goes through so much more emotions towards you.

heeseung slides the door to his room to a close. the window that overlooks the front of the house is close nearly shut as you can still see the light coming from the sliver right down the middle. he switches on his lamps to let the room be illuminated enough. placing down your backpack on the chair of his desk, you open the main pocket where you store your stuff. notebook, your stationary case, your own walkman you had to use one side of the headset because of your healing ear, and the cd that is refracting the light in the room. you felt warmth enveloping one side of your from behind, a slight breathing that then is replaced by a searing kiss to your shirt-covered shoulder to then the juncture between it and your neck. angle you to one side, your chilly hand holds onto the casing as heeseung overwhelms you with his touch that you also hold with your other hand.

turning yourself around inside his embrace, you wrapped your arms behind his shoulder as you returned his kiss with your own. holding onto the casing as both of your bodies twist to meet each other and the tingling sensation. heeseung pushes his tongue into your opened lips, making you let out a muffled moan as he holds you tight against him by your waist. pulling away to breathe, he trails his kisses from the corner of your lips to the front of your neck as you open the first few buttons of your uniform shirt.

the boy notices it instantly, reaching his hands to continue unbuttoning your shirt as you reach for his own. with a few of the buttons undone from his side, he nuzzles away the ends of the shirts as he sees the hint of your torso. you let out a shaky breath as heeseung kisses the area by your sternum before he raises his head to look at you. his eyes questioning before it changes as you give him nods. heeseung caresses one side of the shirt away as he meets half of your body. you expected him to be in shock, especially with the numerous times you have said to him of the pain you endured. your body is the canvas that is marred with these proofs of pain, most inflicted on you by others. yet, heeseung’s action said otherwise.

every little blemish on your skin, he will kiss it. these scars that have littered your body, from the most prominent to the most obscured. he traces them one by one with his lips before giving a small yet long kiss. he takes off the sleeve and twists your arm so he can reach every single patch of skin that will always heal until your time is up. your head follows his, trying to stay as static as possible. but the actions he did dig deeper into your gut than you expected. as the small breeze brushes the other side, he peels it off from you, letting him see you breathing through your diaphragm, he continues to trail your skin with his lips when he sensed your chest shaking.

tilting his head back, the view of you squeezing your eyes shut as tears flow down the corner of your eyes makes him pause. “are you alright? did i go too fast-“

you whiffled your head, hands lifted to his shoulders as you opened your eyes and the blurriness faded away as you were met with heeseung’s concerned face. you let out a smile that turns into a small chuckle. heeseung brushes the fallen tear away as he cups your cheek.

“no, i’m alright. i, i haven’t felt this feeling in a long time.” you gulp down your saliva. “i’ve never felt this loved before.”

“aw,” he exclaimed, furrowed brows showing on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours, giving a quick kiss. “you deserve it. so much, (y/n).”

you nodded your head in his hold as your hands reached up to his uniform shirt, unbuttoning them one by one as you felt the cotton material of his inner t-shirt. heeseung reaches for his opened shirt and removes it in an instant before he continues his path down to your torso.

“let me take care of you first,” he remarked, pulling the other sleeve down as he continued doing the same thing from the side before this. he trails his lips to your arms where scars from scabs remain before he went back to your torso, tracing the simple white bra as he teasingly sucks on the material. his warmth seeps into the fabric and reaches your skin, goosebumps showing on your arms.

“can i?” his hands trail to the back of your body as you beat him first, reaching for the clasp as you take them off from the hook. the fabric of the cup falls as you look at him, nodding your head as he tugs the straps of your shoulders, letting him see how your nipples are already erected both from the breeze and the actions he had done. his hand reaches up to cup your right breast, a sharp gasp coming from you as he follows along with kisses around the left areola before he gives the nipple a suck. the hands that were rested beside your body reach up to heeseung’s head, rubbing it as an encouragement for him but also to guide him. his grip on your love handles tightened as he could hear your little whimpers when he brought you closer and changed to also treat the other side the same. it continues as he trails down to your abdomen, his furrowed eyebrows showing again as he kisses it all over when he finds the scarring there from the many times you know you’ve been hurt from the abdomen.

his hands reach for the clasp of your plain uniform skirt as he pulls it off alongside the zipper, tugging it downwards as his nimble fingers also pull down your socks alongside it, guiding you to step one foot at a time so he can pick it up and throw it somewhere where he had also thrown away your uniform shirt. his kisses focus on your calves and shins where the blemishes are prominent there, especially the prolonged kisses on your kneecaps that have to withstand the abuse you’ve endured. his hands reach behind your thighs and trail to your buttcheeks, giving them a squeeze as he met the sight of your pastel underwear.

a small kiss there makes you let out a gasp, his finger trailing the patch of fabric that is wet from your arousal. that’s when you felt his wet appendage taking in a taste, a hum coming from him as he tugs the band of the pair down your legs and you let him with how he easily tugs them away from you as soon as you step out from it. heeseung reaches back to your butt as he continues, finally tasting your leaking arousal as your hands continue to rub his hair and grip the back covered by his t-shirt.

he laps around your lower lips before he finds your opening and licks a strip there. and again, and again, as you moan in response.

“hee-“ you moaned as he let his tongue lick up the excrement.

one of your hands reaches down to your private parts, trailing your finger between your lower lips as you found the clit that brushes against heeseung’s nose bridge, pressing down and rubbing against it as to show him the other ways you felt more pleasure down there. his hand reaches for your calves as he picked one up and put it behind his shoulder letting him see the slit’s opening and the nub clearer as he uses his thumb there to rub it, letting him continue to lick up the area before plunging his tongue into the wider opening.

“fuck...” you gasped and continue to let out breathy moans, not wanting to be too loud so his neighbours won’t be alerted. your eyes looked down, brushing away the bangs that covered his forehead so you could observe how heeseung’s hooded eyes focused on pleasuring you. a moment later, he switched around as his tongue is the one that licked up your clitoris while he pushed his forefinger up your opening. you brace against him with your hand on his head so you can watch him and a claw against his back. your body is quivering as you feel something has risen down at your abdomen with how the muscles contract.

“you’re getting tighter,” he mumbled his observation.

“i’m- i’m gonna-“

“cum for me.” he pushes in another finger as they stretch your muscles alongside continuing to the pace of the thrust. he gives a gentle suck to your clit as he chases after your release. your head tilted back, vision blackens from how your eyes went back from your lid as you felt the liquid squeezed out onto his two fingers. a whine comes from you as they pull out before heeseung’s tongue returns and taste what you produced. your grip on him tightens as he continues to arouse you.

when he leans away, you can breathe steadily as he carefully pulls your leg off his shoulder and stands before you, hands returning to your love handles as he kisses your breath away, making you savour your arousal from his tongue as you continue to grip onto him, the t-shirt lifted from the clench from your hold as he leans away to cross his arms in front of him, lifting the hem of the shirt as you could finally observe his torso. you figured out his build as the right amount of muscles, fat, and bones, creating the prominent muscles cluster around his upper arms, pectorals, and abdomens with how the fat creates a softer look. the bones on his forearm and collarbone become more prominent alongside some protruding from this ribcage.

he looks beautiful. and he also had scars littered around his body.

the first scar you notice line across his collarbone. it doesn’t seem like something his bullies would do as the skin colour is so different between one and the other, creating an obvious shape for the keen people. you trace it with your thumb as heeseung watches how you observe the particular scar.

“it’s stitches that i got when i was 10,” he answers your curiosity.

“it’s beautiful,” you replied as you leaned closer and gave every trace of the stitches kisses.

you followed what heeseung had done, trailing the prominent scars on his skin with your kisses even with the slight difference in skin color. your hand reaches for his back and you can feel his muscles move and contract. you kneel down, your head resting on his abdomen as you trace every patch of the large scar on there. your hands move the waistband of the uniform pants as you lean your head against his thighs and look upwards.

“can i?” you echoed his request earlier.

“please...” he answers.

your fingers reach for the button and zipper to take them off before you tug the pants down, following the scars that are exposed on the skin that were covered by the material. your head tilts up as you find the prominent bulge from his boxer briefs. leaning in closer to it, heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens as you breathe on it. you could see a bit of the head side peeking out from the waistband and you don’t want to make him wait any longer.

pulling the fabric down, his member springs up as you touch it. the muscles contracting creating a sturdy cock to touch. the tip of the head leaking drops from the slit as you push out your tongue, looking down at the tip of your tongue and gently licking up the drop. heeseung’s sudden movement pauses you as he steps out of his bottoms before bringing them to pile up by your knees.

“you can kneel on them so that it won’t hurt you more,” he spoke as you looked up at him, your hand reaching for his as he helped you to find your position. the tip of his cock nudging against the bridge of your nose as your other hand reaches up and gives an experimental stroke. the boy hisses as he grips your hand before removing it to cup your cheek. your eyes looking up to meet his, his bangs hanging by his forehead with his mouth open. his chest rises and falls steadily as you follow with your own. you move your head, letting the tip slide along your face as you open your lips and give it a suck. your hand holding onto the cock so it won’t move anywhere. you hummed, the vibration sending chills to heeseung as he let out a breathy noise. tilting your head, you let him see just how well you suck him, wide up your cavern so that he won’t feel your teeth dragging against his skin.

“just like that,” he commented as you felt his hand reach the back of your head. the tip nearly reaching the back of your mouth as your saliva coats the area you suck. pulling away, you reach the layer of it and spread it against the rest of his member, feeling it getting longer and sturdier as you perceive the ridges of blood veins on them getting more prominent. your head moves without question as you push your tongue to lick one vein across the ridges towards his bulbous head. pushing your head to let more of him inside, you surprised yourself and him with your gagging, making him pull your head back as you let out a groan.

“you okay?” and you reply with your nodding head as you clear your throat.

“i am. just want to make you feel good.” your hands clutching against his thighs as his grip loosens to let you move on your own accord. his cock enters your mouth once again, bracing yourself as it hits the back of it as heeseung’s hand holds onto your head. your hand continues to stroke the rest that isn’t inside of your mouth while the other holds onto his body, his other hand on top of yours. his breathy gasps turn into low-note moans as you continue, sliding your saliva-covered fingers upwards to his abdomen and resting beneath his belly button. you can sense him chasing his high, his hips moving a bit to chase after you.

his moans become erratic and unsteady as you continue to stare at his expression. his teeth biting his bottom lip with the scrunch on his face, making him look much more delicious. “i’m cumming,” he exclaims. but you don’t stop sucking him as you move both of your hands towards his parts, one stroking his cock, the other stimulating his balls.

your breath was taken away as he pushed your head towards his hips, eyes wide as you could feel the warmth bursting in your mouth. a bit of saltiness that you push around inside your cavern as he pulls his cock out. your lips continue to pucker until the last of him is out, swollen and glistens as you push his cum down alongside your saliva.

“fuck...” heeseung exclaims as he moves his hand back to your jaw before guiding you to stand up. your hands enrapturing him as he kisses you, licking your agape mouth to let both of you taste each other’s cum. his hard cock pushes against your skin as you trail your hands down his back while he has his on your waist. your forehead resting against each other as you take deep breaths.

“i can’t wait anymore.” he shakes his head as his lips trail down your neck, making you push him back as you walk to grab the angels and his cd walkman before you sit on his bed. opening the lid, the sight of windswept’s cd shines on you as you pull it away before placing it on your lap. you gently rip the plastic sheet covering the cd, its sleek material glides against your fingertip as you push the lid open to be met with the booklet and the shining disc. the colour of the moon reflects its blue design unlike windswept’s cream and breathe’s green. heeseung’s hand touches your thigh as you look at him, signalling with his head for you to lie down on the bed. you pull the cd out and place it in its place.

with your position, you can see heeseung’s full figure perfectly as he stands beside the bed. his hand reaches for the cd casing as he looks at the track list. “48 minutes. 12 tracks.”

“as long as windswept,” you remarked. his eyes move to you as they trail down your exposed body from the light of his bedside lamp. placing the other cd inside of the casing for safe-keeping before returning it back to his table.

heeseung straddles you as you widen your legs to let him know his place. your eyes focus on your fingers as you untangle the wires of the earbuds. your giggles float in the room as he moves to adjust himself and you, the head of his cock resting against the skin above your lower lips. he gently lowers the head down, tapping it against your clit as it makes your body quiver, your knees already folding up as it rests right beside his hips. you grab onto of of the buds as you push your arms upwards, making heeseung lean down as he lets you push the bud into his ear, brushing against his piercing before you return to place the other bud into your own pierced ear.

“it will hurt,” he spoke above you.

“yeah...” you reply, your other hand already grabbing onto his tricep as you both look at how heeseung helps you get ready—how he also is getting himself to take you to the next level. he pushes his cock more, letting the tip caresses your clit and lower it as it widens your inner lip. you lean back more, letting your hip push up to let him see the hole.

“ah!” you gasped when you felt the head nudged at the entrance, shivers and sweat running down your spine as he pushes the rim of the hole so it got wider. your wetness makes the stretch easier when you can feel his head enter, from the narrow tip to the middle until the rest of his head is inside of you. your body is quivering, eyes stuck on his shaft entering you as a cacophony of moans and groans coming from both of you. hands held onto his arm and the walkman respectively as his hands on the pillow beside your head tighten up.

“fuck!” heeseung leans his head back, letting you admire his throat that has little blemishes from your kiss. you feel your walls closing in on him even just the little bit that he had entered. but it makes you shake your head.

“keep going,” you mumbled to him as he looked down to meet your breathtaking face. your nipples are perky as you reach his hand with your own. “i can handle it.”

“you’ll be the death of me,” he said under his breath as heeseung pushed himself deeper. more of your walls open up to encompass him as you keep your fingers locked in between his. the expression of your pain dissipates as you familiarize yourself, feeling yourself getting fuller as he pushes more of himself in.

the brush of his tip against your cervix widens your eyes as you feel his hips against yours. his body is still on top of you as you raise your legs up. his heavy breathing against your ear with the wires searing your warm skin with the cold material. heeseung’s lip trail kisses from your ear to the corner of your lips, his other hand holding onto your waist so that he can’t crush you. you embrace him by kissing him, a blissful smile spreading against your face, calming the boy.

“does it feel good?”

“very,” you respond, lifting your head to give a kiss as a seal. he looks to the side, glancing at your hand that's holding onto his walkman as you follow. your thumb reaches for the play button and pushes it down. the cd whirls inside as the sound of guitar strumming plays with the first song. your eyes staring into each other, overwhelming more of your senses from the touch to the hearing.

supernova, as you remember the title to be. a supernova also bursts inside of you, from the beautiful sound along to heeseung who invites you to join in on this intimate moment. and as the song continues, hearing moonstruck sings, the boy moves his hips, sliding his cock nearly out before pushing it back in.

his movement continues as the song continues, taking things slowly as you both take both sensations. your hands wrapped around his back alongside your legs on his waist. the feeling of the walkman resting on his back as you both look between each other and the place where your bodies conjoined. his kiss lingers as you stay in eye contact with him, yet sometimes it rolls back when you feel him hitting some spots within you. your eyes resting on his expressions as he looks down at you, sparkles in his eyes resembling supernova as you brought him down to kiss him with your hand on his cheek. gently, you brush his bangs resting on his forehead as both of your moans get louder in time with the rhythm he said. heeseung’s grip on you tightens as you can sense the fluidity of his hips moving faster, making more of your eyes roll back.

“hee, hee-“ you moan as you stare at him who is gritting his teeth, holding onto something you could assume is his release. you both come from the same position after all and it admires you more that he manages to hold on.

“let go,” your whisper reaches heeseung’s ears as his doe-like eyes enlarge, nodding your head to justify what you imply.

“cum for me,” you continue. your free hand reaches to play with your breast as your gleaming eyes silently plead to him, “cum in me.”

heeseung’s groan continues as his movement gets faster, chasing after his release and—with his thumb rubbing against your nub—making you chase after yours. he moans out deliciously as he collapses, his head returning to nudge into your juncture. as the fourth song plays, you can feel his liquid warming you up. yet he continues to rub his thumb against your clitoris as he turns his head to look at your side profile. the walkman still resting on his back as you push against it with your hand.

“my... angel...” he kisses your cheekbone as your loud moan comes out from your lips before he muffles it with his deep kiss. you could feel his outstretched smirk as your orgasm gushed out to your walls and his member. you breathe heavily as heeseung calms you down, his usual cockiness seeping out of its shell as he touches the area where you and him connected, making your body jitter.

“angel...” he mumbled against your skin as the fourth song finished and continued on with the fifth one.

“baby...” you replied with an airy voice, bringing him down back onto you as you felt his hand on your breasts and play with them. the sound of wetness coming from the bottom of your body as he continues to playfully nudge his hips, the coldness of both of your cum spreading across your warm skin.

“you want more?” you mumbled, eyes catching his as the corner of his lips wide, matching your own bliss expression.

“just one more.” his words come to you as he holds on to your waist and turns both of your bodies around. you nip on your bottom lip as both of your cums flow downwards. hands reaching for heeseung’s torso as your grip is still on the walkman. that’s when you felt a little tug on it as heeseung held it in his hand. you straighten your back, holding yourself up as trickles of your releases seep in between your walls and his shaft. and more of them as you push yourself down.

leaning your head back, you let out a satisfying moan as you push heeseung deeper into you, already feeling his tip right against your cervix as you push a bit more. the boy hisses underneath you, his hands holding onto your hips as the cold, slippery touch of the walkman adds to the sensation. the music continues to play, the dreamy synth sound that is being overdriven by the noisy guitar. you slowly lift yourself, groans coming from both of you as you sink once again at the same pace.

“angel...” he whispers, making you lean forward as you continue the pace with heeseung’s own following behind. your lips open wide, eyes on his as both of your lips graze each other’s. he puckers his lips, capturing yours as you hold your up still with your hands across his torso. heeseung’s lips continue to move down and meet your collar; giving it a hard suck that you know will create a mark.

“heeseung-“

“you feel so fucking good. you’re doing so well.” his words encourage you more and more, changing between bouncing and grinding above him. your crotch sticking to his as you look down to see where you both are connected: strings of the sticky liquid joining both of you as you experimentally slow down, listening in to the moisture created by both of you. your muffled moan comes along with a smile as heeseung’s lips contorted to it as well, rolling on him as you lean your body back. heeseung’s free hand graces your front, brushing against your nipples and your tummy; creating goosebumps on your arms.

one of your hands reaches for his as you bring it to your clitoris, his finger moving once again as you can’t help to let out a loud gasp, quickening your pace.

“i, hah, i love-“ you bite your lip tight, hands pushing against heeseung’s body as you have to lift yourself up as your legs become tired from the folding and floating from before as well. “I’m gonna cum.”

the boy’s hand reaches for your upper back and pushes you down as you follow the pace of the rock-sounding song, reacting accordingly as you hear the chorus melody by rolling your hips before changing back to bouncing. heeseung brought your lips close to him, feeding each other’s moan when you felt your knees buckle and hands shaking. your neck is outstretched as you take in to breathe from your orgasm.

and the beats quicken, turning from heavy bass to heavy drums, and heeseung doesn’t stop the pace. hands holding onto your hips to push it down as he chases for his release.

“fuck!” your arms buckle as you sigh heavily against heeseung, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he breathes into your ear. your lips leave a little mark on him as you focus on the atmospheric sounds. skins slapping, moist, heavy breathing, your whimpers, his praises mumbled under his breath, the droning music in your ear.

he doesn’t need to say it when he pushes your hips down on him with a loud moan. warm liquid shoots inside of you as you already lift your head to watch his blissful face. heeseung’s eyes also rolled back—his adam’s apple bopping as he took huge breaths—before returning to his hooded state. the track ends with the chirping of birds and it fades to a stop.

only your exhales are heard as you stay in eye contact with him before you kiss him, signalling the end of your listening party with a full mind and heart.

-

everything seems to go back to normal, whatever normalcy is for you, but with a constant of heeseung in it.

he returns to his careful self—staying away or outright “making fun” of you—following eunho and the others. yet, lunch is always the time for you and him, resting your head against each other’s shoulder and then head, telling stories about each other as you expand about everything you know about heeseung and especially his love of moonstruck. angels dominate the conversation of the rest of the week, from the calm start to the sudden yet exciting dark yet upbeat songs. and because of that album, he interchanges in calling your name and angel.

your normalcy also includes your still existing “connection” with seona and the rest of the girls. the constant barraging, stealing of homework, and mockery are the ones that you still have to endure. you also had to realize that you’re not the only one being tormented by them—the result of a sudden encounter when you see a girl from another class curling on the floor, her glasses strewn away that you can’t help yourself but to interject before someone breaks it. and it results in you taking a beating right as they push the poor girl away in pain. but these days, you have a hunch that it’s getting harder. their punches have more force, resulting in your inner bleeding bruise actually turning very dark; the papers thrown or landed on your desk much more frequently, the girls encouraging eunho and the rest of the boys to add much more overt sexual sayings to you as you can’t help to peek behind you, finding heeseung’s mortified expression masked by an insincere smirk.

the phone buzzes inside your pocket as you pull it gently with the chains brushing against your hand. your eyes skim-read the message full of abbreviations as you hold on to your resting face, already knowing what to expect as you head to the side of your school building. a place where you had only seen the school gardener tend to the bushes there, a little alleyway in between the school building and the wall marking the school’s parameters. the usual place where you get more markings on your skin that you had to pull your socks higher to cover them up—always checking up on your blazer’s sleeves.

yet, even with such a predicament, something still feels off as you arrive at the narrow path: the smell of smoke.

even if it is familiar to you, you haven’t caught the girls smoking until now. they each have their own stick, holding it by pinching with their thumb and forefinger even with the stick still nearly as long as the one unburned. the way they smoke seems so unnatural to you it raises your awareness. and you can see it, behind the floating smoke, the appearance of seona and her agonizing smirk.

bracing yourself against the brick wall, you can sense your head pulsing and immediate dizziness coming in. risoo holds onto your blazer and you then realize that there is a torn in between the seams of the right arm sleeve and the shoulder area. your hearing turns into an automatic muffled option—letting their words enter from one ear and exit the other ear—as you brace yourself to toughen up your body and hold on to the pain once again. but the introduction of fire held by them is something that you don’t want anyone to experience. hopefully, it’s you and only you who will endure this.

because you had to look down at the newly formed round scars. you can already imagine the pain it is to heal and hide. the cigarettes were left on the floor to burn until the filter parts as you cower down, wiping away the tears of pain before you stomp them until they die. leaving only ashes and scars on your forearms. the heavy weight of the blazer burns against your open wounds, but you just can’t bring yourself to the nursery. as much as the school nurse will be there to treat you, you have been there so much that you feel ashamed about it. because you don’t deserve to be treated so much, knowing that there might be other people who need faster treatment than you.

you grind down on your teeth as you head back to class for the short break, walking past the unknowing people as you try to bear the pain by curling up your hand, the tense muscles making them more painful. a detour to the restroom makes you face yourself. you can see how pink your eyeballs are from the dried tear marks near your eyes. hisses coming from you as you hold yourself down from letting out such an agonizing scream when you feel the cold water brushing against the wounds, more tears forming from the corner of your eyes. your swollen nose is such an obvious appearance of your tearful self, so you clean your face too with the cold water, shocking yourself as you brace for the rest of the day.

as lunch comes and goes by, you hide it from heeseung—holding onto his hand as you snuggle up to his side while he eats the rest of your food from the lunch box. fingers curl in between his as sometimes you give a little pressure to dissipate the pain in your arm. but there is still someone that you can’t seem to hide as miss kang’s appearance startled your class by the end of the day. her eyes looking around the class as she talks about the dates for your final exams for the end of the semester, yet she seemed to land her eyes a little longer on you and especially at your hand that curled around the edge of your table, pressing it down with your grip to subside the pulsing pain.

that’s the only time that they play with fire. but, you might think that it might just be the beginning, especially with the increase in cat calls that many of the boys similar to eunho and heeseung’s group have been throwing at you even when you walked past them with your headset on and the cranberries cd playing in your walkman. and then, it started: heeseung didn’t show up to the rooftop for three days straight without even giving you an sms.

the rolling bandage wrapped around your forearms has covered the burned scars, hiding it still underneath your blazer even with the rising temperature as the season approaches summer. when you entered the class and approached your seat, you saw heeseung with his head laid on his table. slowly, you knock your knuckles gently against his table.

his head lifts as you meet his eyes as you observe him. a bandaid across the tall bridge of his nose, a faded bruise on his cheekbone, a clear sign of a black eye on the other, and a cut on the corner of his thick lips. your mouth opens, ready to let out whatever reassuring words that come to mind when his piercing glare stops you, he mouths a simple word.

“don’t.”

the back door of the class opens up with a loud bang as you take a glimpse at the boys coming in. heeseung gives a brief look before he pushes himself upright. recognizing the faces, you instantly move to sit on your chair, unpacking your bags to get out your stationary case and notebook. your ears revert to its “natural” phase of pushing people’s conversation out of your mind, especially if they are talking about you. the girls also arrived, but you see risoo is playing with her digital camera that has been there alongside your suffering.

as the morning class started and continue on, you felt a slight buzz in your skirt pocket. your eyes are focusing on the blackboard as you try to find the opening and drag your phone out by the strap. pressing the middle button, a notification appears on your screen that makes you want to let out a smile.

“hey, wanna meet up at the back of the school?”

you turn your head around as you meet the crown of heeseung’s head before he raises to meet you. yet, you were met with the same poker face you’ve always seen him wear to blend in. but you give him a small smile, hopefully that is enough of an answer for him, that, sure, a change of scenery will hurt no one, especially since you never interacted with him on school outside of the lunch break window of time. the first thing that you want to do when you meet him is to ask what happened to his beautiful face.

the constant happenings in your home make you succumb to tiredness, having a perfect quick nap in the middle of the class until you hear the rummaging and slides of chairs around you. pushing yourself up, you find a few students staying back in class. that’s when you remembered the meeting with heeseung at the back of the school. you’ve been there before and it is beautiful even with the small land as it looks like you stepped into a terrarium.

the leaves and branches from the tree separate the sunlight into beams, creating a perfect shade to the clear sky. your feet move with a mix of enthusiasm and hesitation, dragging them as you can still feel the bandage wrapped around your ankle. you abandoned the blazer, reminding of your trust in heeseung as he doesn’t even cover the bruises on his face. they drag across the gravelled path, as you turn your head around the corner to find the familiar sight.

the sight of his wide shoulders, ruffled black hair, with a brief glimmer in his eyes. but when you found him, he had his head hung low and hands behind his back.

“heeseung?” you called out. but when you want to step closer, ruffles are heard behind you with a sudden grip on your shoulders. the boy before you stood still, eyes on the ground and maybe just peeking to see the ends of your shoes.

dread fills you as you hear the person speak.

“well, isn’t it lovely? seeing you both here instead of the usual rooftop you both hang out on.”

eunho.

two forces gripped your hands at the same time as you could recognize the chuckles from the boys that stood there. youngbin approaches heeseung before standing behind him, taking hold of his hair before forcefully tilting it back. your eyes scan his appearance, how dim his usual shine is, and you shift your gaze beside him to discover the familiar girls standing aside, camera ready in risoo’s hand with seona standing by her with folded arms.

“you think we don’t know?” eunho added, feeling his head nodding as seona replied with a nod. “you think we don’t know the connection that you both have, huh newbie?”

“we can see them in class and don’t you think we didn’t catch you when both went out together?” youngbin said loudly from behind heeseung, hand holding his head still as you feel eunho’s breath brushing against your pierced earlobe.

“i knew that you were like your mother, but him, huh?” the boy behind you chuckles as his words plunge more to the acid in your stomach, making your gut react more than the sunken feeling it has felt as it lands on the bottom of the pit. you sense his hand moves from your shoulder to the side of your body, the uniform shirt clinging against your torso as you squirm when the fingers trailing down beneath your bosom. teeth grinding before you let out a cry that was muffled easily with eunho’s other hand.

“is heeseung really that good of a fuck?” youngbin speaks, taunting heeseung as he looks across at you and the way your body tense as eunho’s hand untucked your shirt from your skirt. fingers unbuttoning from the bottom of the shirt. your eyes shift to the chuckling girls as risoo has the camera right on you. yet, heeseung stayed still; you can’t read what he wants with this. why did he agree to this? you knew of the predicament you were in. being the lowest of the lowest in this very school.

eunho’s fingertips brush against your exposed skin as you hold on to your cry. “look how sensitive (y/n) is. well, all we want for you two is to entertain us.” the fingers continue to unbutton the shirt until the collar, exposing your bra to them. “you are our entertainment. so...” your eyelids widen as you see the furrow on heeseung’s brows. yet he stayed quiet. both eunho and youngbin lean in close to your ears as you hear their command at the same time.

“fuck him.”

“fuck her.”

your body is pushed to the front as your shirt flails, exposing more of your skin as you brace against heeseung’s body. lifting your head to glance at him, you take a peek around you before you whisper, “please.”

but when you felt heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, you knew that his familiar warmth was telling you something. something that makes your heart broken into smithereens.

“close your eyes. just feel me,” he whispers back.

he was coerced. he dangers himself to be with you and got caught. and now you are the collateral of his punishment.

heeseung’s kisses to the crook of your neck that is warmer as you close your eyes. focusing on his touch and shakes of the leaves that cover the rest of the people’s snickers. his grip begs you to let go of this world just for a moment, block out this memory so that it doesn’t traumatise you more. hopefully, it’s he and only he that will endure this.

you felt your body lying down on the gravel, the prickling little stone brushing against your skin as every rushed movement would caused another scratch on your body. heeseung’s hands brush against your bandaged forearms, a quick swipe as if he had to punish himself for not knowing these on your body. behind your eyelids, you see heeseung’s silhouette and focus on it. his hand brushes against your thigh as you are at the precipice of letting go. disassociate from your body for a second.

the boy leans down to cover your body with his as he plays with you as their entertainment but still covers you up for your dignity. you held down your lips as whimpers came out of you—you don’t know how long this will last, but you let yourself go to heeseung as your bandaged arms wrapped around his back. the sensation felt from your lower parts continue as the gravel movement increases around the both of you. heeseung’s head resting in the crook of your neck, wetting them up with the tears he can finally let go in a freefall-

“WHAT IS THIS?”

your eyes open wide as the piercing sun hurts them more. the legs of your bullies stood still as you looked from the gaps to discover two figures.

“we’re-“

“move out of the way.” the harsh voice sounds familiar as the legs are moved away alongside its bodies with the two figures approaching.

“oh, (y/n).” you looked up to find the worried face of miss kang, your homeroom teacher, and coach kim who was assessing the situation. and you had to wrap your arms around him more. the boy sobs muffled into your collarbone.

“p-please don’t punish heeseung.” you spoke up in a gravelly voice, “he’s with me. we’re-“

coach kim calls for someone as they turned the corner to find the school’s security guards surrounding the rest of the boys and girls. miss kang crouches down as she finally looks at your wrapped hands and the single bruise on heeseung’s face.

“oh...” her calm voice embraces the two of you as coach kim and the guards round up the people that were being entertained by you. yet you don’t want to let go of heeseung, scared for him more than he will face wrath from the teachers for your case. that you will defend him to be treated just like you are, because he had to endure it longer and he deserves them better than you.

-

《you know》

someone stands at the side of a large patch of grass. its emerald green piercing the eyes with some semblance of freshness. but also something dangerous.

《when you have stayed for so long in the space station》 《do you feel like you are able to reach for the moon itself?》

the figure walks forward, immersing themselves in the sea of grass as they approach one of the many steel towers that looked like dormant giants awaiting to be wakened up.

《yet space itself is a vacuum》 《and i heard that being in space with proper protection is like feeling the same pressure as when you are under the water》

much far away, a group of kids are flying colourful kites above the sky. the figure blinks, eyes following along with one of the kites that have tails trailing behind them. a small smile emerges on their face.

《and i feel like i am at the bottom of the ocean now》 《while all i want is to reach for the sky》

bandages adorned their arms as they dropped their backpack. some items spill out from the unzipped main pocket. a sight of the peeking walkman reflecting the sun.

《why does it hurt so much to emerge from the depths?》 《why does it hurt so much to even breathe the fresh air?》

their sweaty hands reach for one of the steel legs holding the transmission tower upright. with a huff, they pull their body up. it reminds them of when they used to climb up to the roof of the house when they were 5 years old. looking down at the streets of the neighbourhood with the house all empty of familial presence and love.

《why does it hurt so much when you can not reach the moon?》

step. step. step.

《and so》 《i decide to take it into my own hand》 《i will reach for the sky》 《climb the tallest structure i could underneath the clear sky》

they turned their body around, looking down at the plunge to assess it. one drop and a quick death for them. to end them all.

《i will reach for the moon》 《from: pearl

“(y/n)!”

the wispy wind blows against your wind when you look at the approaching figure running. you continue to hold on to the steel as the figure approaches, looking up with his face full of bandages as well.

《i want to reach the moon too》 《but moonstruck is enough for me to be able to reach there》 《you can get the taste of celeste here too》 《stay with us》 《stay with me》 《people admire you so much for what you have contributed to the space station》 《stay for them》 《stay for yourself》 《from: bambi

heeseung looks up with furrowed brows. his eyes landed on both of your hands that were holding the steel forming an angle. he sees your body trembling, a quiet sob reaches his ears.

《i will try》 《from: pearl

the boy stands near the leg as he sees your body turning, bringing you to take the step down the same way you went up. but its slippery angle makes you have to look down at the ground as well. you meet heeseung’s eyes as he stands right below you even with your blurry eyes.

“i’ll catch you,” he says with a pout on his face. you nodded your head, stepping down until he could reach for your waist before he lifted you off the steel beam and into his embrace. he looks down as you curl up against his chest, crying your eyes out and wetting his uniform shirt.

slowly he pulls away as he brings his hands to cup your face, your eyes still tilted downwards as he gives you a peck on the lips before it moves to your forehead and temple and he makes you rest your head against him once again. you focus on the sound of nature, how the chirping birds and the excited kids with their kites create a choir as they fly near each other in the sky.

days have gone by since that very incident. you still remembered how you told most of everything that transpired for you, prompting their conversation by pointing out the visible bruises and how they scarred your body. you also describe witnessing other people being bullied by them, how it affects your scores as well, and to also go to heeseung because he had felt the same thing. for the past years or so, you didn’t need to actually report to the school about this. because most of them don’t care, anyway. none of the adults care about people your age.

but when you heard the bullies were suspended for two weeks, you find that as a little victory when you came into the classroom to find their tables, alongside heeseung’s for the past three days because of his association. you let yourself talk to the other victims—most are the girls that were coerced by eunho to get them money as you learn their hardships as well. that with this punishment, at least he and the rest of the boys wake up from their trance. and yet, you still feel undeserving of treatment when there are people who need more. the survivor’s guilt ate you up from the inside until all you sense is the husk of yourself. none of your parents came to the school when coach kim told them to come, and you had to revert to your music once again until you felt that even it didn’t fill you up anymore.

your eyes landed on heeseung’s when you came into the class today. the guilt building up once again when you see him with his bandaged face. his stare pierces into the back of your head as you continue with class, your body cowering so much that you want to hide yourself from the glance of your fellow students and teachers. and during lunch, the first time you were supposed to have lunch with heeseung after three days by yourself, you grabbed your bag and left the school, citing the doctor’s appointment to the guard knowing just how bruised and in pain you were that day he found alongside coach kim and miss kang.

you didn’t realise heeseung had followed you until you met him and your rose-coloured glasses disappeared in an instant. that with you being gone doesn’t actually solve everything, especially with the people that you have connected with and your responsibility to them.

it’s too late for you both to go back to school now as the sun has gone its way down to the western horizon. your eyes focusing on the flying kites as its wonderful colours represent the various inner turmoils inside you. you felt him move to the side, letting you turn your body to sightsee as heeseung stood with his arm wrapped around you. his sigh catches you off guard as you peek towards him. his eyes darting with the recognizable expression of when he is thinking about an idea.

“do you want to go back to your house? i’ll be here with you.” his reassuring hand moves to hold you firm. lifting your head to read his face, your quiet reply with a nod of your head is enough for an answer as he tracks to grab your backpack and tidy it up. you can still feel how your legs are trembling as heeseung emerges from beside you with your backpack strap onto one side of his shoulders, arm behind your back as he leads the walk back to your house.

as you looked around the road you walked by, you could see the glances of the people working or resting. yet their gaze feels different now. none of the hostility you had experienced are there. the townspeople talk of the sexual harassment you endure and when they finally see you in your wounded galore; they finally understand. yet, they don’t want to act, at least make their children notice these things. the hardships their peers have experienced with the turn of the century and how scary it is to grow up at that window of time.

the walk down the road helps in calming the voices in your head. the reassurance that innocence still prevails comes from the elementary school kids who are now out of their schools, walking around and about as they have their snacks together before their parents search for them to come back home. you’ve never experienced it before, but you feel a tug on the corner of your lips as you watch them—to know that their innocence is still intact, unlike what you have experienced.

coming out of the last set of buildings, your house stood tall meters away from them—the sight of the transmission tower in the background reminds you just how close the place you wanted to end things from your abode. the hedges are now too overgrown that if it’s not because the exterior lights are on every night, it will look abandoned like it did months ago. you remembered heechan’s innocent gaze from the last time heeseung brought you back—the only time he brought you back here because you rather go alone back, much more discreet. and the house continues to stand tall, greeting the tenant who lives there—well, the one who consistently is there.

heeseung stops his tracks as he looks at the path down the carpark to where the entrance of the house is, his arm reluctant to let you go when you turn your head and ask, “do you want to go inside?” in your hushed voice.

one glance at the house and then at you; he gives the reins to you as you pull him with you down the empty path. you let out a sigh as he watches how your eyes are trailing around the face of the house. some windows are open as he sees floating ends of the sheer curtain spill out of the shadowy background. your hand reaches for his upper arm as you walk around him, opening up the front pocket of your backpack as you pull out the house key: the main house key.

pushing the key into the hole, you turned it as you heard the few clicks before you pushed down the handle and opened the door, tucking your shoes off by the door as you nudged your head for him to follow. stepping inside the house, his sock-covered feet walk across the wooden boarded floor as he is greeted with the sight of boxes stacking behind the sofa. most of these boxes are the usual brown boxes with labels written on the side. some were open, some were supposed to when he caught the sight of a pocket knife on one of them. but the others are boxes of various luxury brands that he can only imagine his parents only have one or two of their products. the room is dark as only the sunlight goes in from the open window.

it looks more like a storage than a home.

heeseung follows your moving figure as you approach what looks to be the kitchen and dining area. it is clean with only leftovers of unwashed pans available, stacks of recognizable lunch boxes resting on the counter beside the stove before he glances at the dining table where there is only a single plate on it even with the three chairs surrounding the table. the only signs of living and it comes with the semblance of you as you place your lunch box on the counter, waiting for it to be reheated when you are actually hungry. looking up from the box, you had turned your body to look at him.

“come, let me show you my room.” you trail back down the path you have taken, dragging your sock-covered feet against the floor as he walks behind you, the question already at the tip of his tongue as he pushes to ask.

“you’re alone here?” his voice lifted in intonation as you replied with a hum before adding more.

“they haven’t been home for a few days now. probably doing their usual thing.”

his steps stopped as you stood in front of the door which he could read from your action is yours. your hand reaches for the handle, hearing you take a breath, as you push the handle and open the door for him to be met with a surprising view.

across from him is a large familiar poster. it shows a nighttime landscape. a girl stood in front of a clear sky with the white shiny moon behind it. but the writing underneath the moon is the one that struck him.

moonstruck.

stepping forward, he lets out a small gasp.

around the room, he notices familiar images that he had seen both online and offline. some are the ones he had seen when he was thinking of buying merchandise, but he couldn’t. posters of bands that heeseung knows also have celeste aura collected on one side of the room. mazzy star, the cranberries, the velvet underground, all stood next to the calendar of the year 2000 and the map of south korea with a few pins sticking to them. but its space is compact compared to the moon imagery throughout the rest two sides of the room as the other is where the large window is, opening to the backyard with the sky turning purple. shifting his head once again, he finds a familiar site of a computer set sitting in the room's corner. the desk where the desktop screen stands has a stack of cds by moonstruck but also by her old band, nexus, but there alongside them rests a set of accessories of bracelet and necklace made of silver chain and white pearls.

yet, his eyes caught onto the lit-up screen of the desktop, they shifted at the familiar formatting of the screen he had many times visited. the black background and white-coloured text, the little emoticons of stars and moons,and the side of the screen where you can see the username of the owner of the account. and on top of the page is the recognizable banner of the moon and the typography spelling “space station.”

“you’re-“

“yes.” he turns his head as you approach the desk; opening your files folder so he could see the specific titles of the files. you click twice using your mouse, clicking the shuffle symbol as the familiar guitar of erotic plays from the computer’s speaker.

“i’m pearl. and you’re bambi.” you turn around your body and stand your ground, observing his face.

the pearl that was there when he had first entered the space station—the moderator and owner. the pearl that introduces him to more musicians similar to moonstruck. the pearl that was there assuring him everything was going to be okay. the pearl that he had convinced to not end it all.

it’s you.

“how’d you know-“

“i’ve recognised some details you have written about in the space station. but especially when bambi mentioned someone opening up to them and how they need convincing for bambi to also open up, and that day by field is the day after it. it’s too much of a coincidence.” you stepped forward and every step was full of hesitation as you arrived in front of him.

“i have. i’ve never met a moonstruck fan before other than myself and the first thing i do when i go to a new place is to not let people know that i love this artist who doesn’t know me so much. to not seem so fanatic about it and to wallow in it by myself. but when i met and you introduced me to moonstruck.” you gulped your saliva, “i just had to pretend that i didn’t know her when i know her so much, so that you can continue to talk to me about it, and i will not be as lonely as i am all the time.”

heeseung watches how pearly tears fall from the corner of your eyes. your facade breaks right in front of him along with the action that you were doing to hurt yourself before. he understands you so much, hiding a part of yourself that you know will be embarrassing to people and letting only the closest people learn about them. the memory of his moonstruck cd break under youngbin’s touch came into mind—the only thing that mattered to him at that time. your eyes were always gleaming with a sense of excitement when he put on moonstruck songs for you. he thought that it was because you were excited to hear new music, but he now realizes that it is because he makes you listen to his and your favourite artist.

when he read pearl’s message on the forum chat, he can’t help but think about the predicament himself alongside the experiences he had endured. yet, he had the time to speak to pearl just like how pearl speaks to him, a sense of companionship growing, knowing that people are thankful for pearl for moderating and sharing the latest pieces of information about moonstruck, but also for being there for the people no matter how empty the forum sometimes is like you only speak with the void.

he had saved you twice.

heeseung wraps his arms around you and gives you a tight hug, both of your backpacks fall down his shoulders as you feel even calmer than before. an enormous weight just also dropped from your shoulders as he puts the context of the times when he chats with pearl now with the face of you there. moving your head gently, he wiped the corner of the doe-like eyes looking at him as he let out a small pout.

“thank you. for creating space station. for connecting me more with moonstruck. for being there for me and giving me advice.”

“ditto,” you replied with a pout on your lips as well. yet your eyes still have cracks in them. cracks coming from the memories and experiences you have had and shared with him verbally or together, all culminating to today that he will always be thankful to go after you.

you had been his anchor for the semester. you had shown him that the life he is living is problematic in many ways. the friends he hangs out with regard him as the lowest in their group—not treated as a friend should be. but with you, he had felt more feelings he didn’t know existed for all his young life. and when he sensed your lips, he could sense your contemplation: all the turmoil you experiencing.

heeseung stumbled back when he felt the mattress hit behind his knees, making him sit down as you straddled his lap. his hands holding on to yours as you pulled away from the feverish kiss. your brows folded as you stared at his agape lips, the way his bangs framed him perfectly so that you could see his little freckle on his forehead. but he can see how you shook your head slightly. your hands move as you grab his wrist, pulling his hand so that it curves around your neck—reaching for his fingers to close it. his eyes flicker to look at his hand and your face, watching it tense as you put pressure on his fingers against the column.

“i want you... to fuck my pain away, heeseung.” your eyes shifted from his outstretched arm to his face.

“you’re going to get hurt more-“

“i trust you.” you slowly lower your hand and let him control the pressure yourself. “i give you my consent. i just, i don’t want to feel anything other than you.”

you lean in, resting your forehead against his as heeseung looks at your eyes closing. his hand still holding onto the curve of your neck. he can’t help but share the rage you felt. he knew he deserved it—the three-day suspension. but for the rest to only be given two weeks when their action culminated in bringing someone to the brink of death is unjustifiable. teenagers and their lack of consequences, and the adults who also don’t punish them hard enough. he could feel the contempt exuding from you and with the way you seem to let go of control, you truly trust him that you won’t get hurt under his care. no matter how hard he is going to be.

heeseung kisses your lips; they move around yours to create a sloppy mess as he holds your neck so you won’t move, earning a low moan from you as he pushes his tongue in between the gap. the muscles poke against your cheeks before battling with yours, his hand reaches for your uniform shirt as he unbuttons them one by one, exposing your bra to him as he gives one of your breasts pressure with his free hand. you groan against his mouth, making him pull away as you look at him with your hooded eyes and breathless face. he pulls your hands to his chest as they unbutton his shirt while he attacks your exposed collar, marking your skin with his touch and bite as he could feel your body trembling.

he hadn’t worn any t-shirt under the uniform today when you trace your fingertips against his muscles, teasing him like it is intentional as he groaned before he held you and positioned you off of his lap. your body is flailing like a doll as you let him move you into any position he wants: on your hands and knees. he kneels behind your bent-over body, lifting the uniform skirt as he is met with the sight of your underwear—a little wet patch already there.

“you’re that wet for me?” he says with a smirk on his face and you reply with a mumbled “yes” from your face against the pillow. he watches as you turned your head so you could catch what he is going to do. his cock hardens underneath his pants as he wipes his thumb against the wet patch, feeling your folds separating because of it. you take a sharp breath when he pulls your underwear down your thigh and pulls it off your legs and you let out a moan when you felt his wet tongue giving the slit a lick.

“hee-“ you shifted your body so you could watch him as the vibration of his hums added more to the sensation. continuing to moan, you let them out as loud as possible. nobody lives near you and nobody seems to live here other than you.

“ack!” your body moves forward with the force of his slap against your butt cheek, feeling your lower region shaking as your grip against your pillow tightens, making you see your bone knuckles against your skin. drool comes out of your lips and pools on the pillows as you hear a zipper opening when you tilt your head once again.

“more-“

“you want more?” heeseung gives another spank as you reply with a moan but also nods. when you felt the familiar hard blunt tip against your entrance, you had already braced yourself. but you didn’t expect him to push nearly half of his shaft into your wet cavern. your walls deliciously adapt to his cock with such muscle memory.

“i’m giving you more.” his hand reaches for yours and brings them behind. his hip starts to thrust at a steady pace as your muffled moan vibrates in the room alongside the magical sound of moonstruck from the corner of your room. playing the songs in a shuffle that also represents the various emotions that are hard to define as it is ever-changing. heeseung bent forward and traced his lips down your spine covered by the uniform, his own threatening to fall down his shoulder as he continued to push the skirt upwards above your bottom.

when he reaches around for your neck, you let him pull you up as your back arch with your head resting on his shoulder. his face rested beside your ear as you both in sync.

“fuck, angel. you feel so good squeezing me.”

“s-so full- ah!” you continue to move your hips in tandem with his thrust, feeling his tip kissing your cervix as he traces his lips across your exposed collarbone to your bra strap. heeseung trails his hand downwards—pressing against the area above your mound—he could sense the faint movement of him inside you.

“cum for me, angel,” he seductively whispers as you clawed against his skin when he hugs your shaking body. the gush falls down and seeps out from between your connected areas as you whine when you feel him pulled out. that is when he turned your body so that you lay down under him, letting him kiss your lips once again with as hard of a force as when he fucks you.

you moaned against his lips when he slips inside you once again, your hand brushing the shirt away as you trace his stitches scar on the collarbone before he distracts you when he flips the cup of your bra upwards as he leans down to give your nipple a suck. another hand of yours curl up in his hair, curling your legs too with how great it is as you feel like you are floating from the sensation you felt. you glance downwards to watch heeseung marking you across your chest while still moving at a pace that allows him to chase your orgasm once again. but you knew it is his turn to cum.

lifting his head up, you stare him in the eye as you let your trance mind jumble up the words that could entice him more.

“use me. fuck, baby. please.” coherent mumbles come out of you with a price as he lifts your legs and pushes them against your chest. your eyes are rolling backwards as you let him drop his moan against yours, chasing down the high that he wants to experience once again with you. sweat trailing down your skin as you can feel him buckle. eyes pleading with him to give you his all.

“i’m cumming,” he mentioned as he let out beautiful moans alongside the warm liquid bursting and spreading inside you. both of you breathe hard, taking in each other’s pace as you look outside the window to only notice that the light outside is from the exterior lamps you turned on while in the kitchen and the moon shining brightly into your room. moonstruck’s music continues as your computer plays one of her singles.

your arms reach for him as heeseung lies down against your body. your orgasm coming in late, but you still felt yourself clamping down on him. not wanting to let go. your mind has finally felt much clearer from the worries of the world that you could mostly ignore.

the bed covering and duvet continue to flood in both of your sweat as you pull off the rest of his and your uniforms. he helps you straddle him and places his cock to plunge inside you when you push down. round after round were done with no words of command spoken. only a look from each other’s eyes after a five-minute break was enough for him to lay you down and fuck you into oblivion. the songs are never ending as you continue to be enraptured by each other in different positions and location on the bed. and when you looked at the clock, ticking its hands as the time went, you could understand that it had been hours you’d spent in this whole thing when you arrived here.

your head rests on his pectorals, kissing the collarbone stitch on his shoulder, as you both stare at the plain ceiling where the moonlight meets the warm orange light from the bedside lamp. heeseung’s arm wraps around the middle, soothing you with his palm on your back as you both shared chuckles at what happened hours before. how it goes from one end of the spectrum to the other in a plunge and how you both reciprocate it. yet, there are still some nagging questions after he had uncovered many things about you, from the obvious to the minute details.

“so, you’re the one that created space station?” his soft voice calls for you as he hears you hum.

“i see it as a good opportunity to connect with like-minded people; the internet. and so, i learned how to be a webmaster and create this where i can talk about moonstruck. it used to be more of a personal website but because there are many frequent guests, i decided to make it more of a forum for discussion.” your soft sigh caught his attention as he looked to see you already looking at him.

“it helps me cope with my loneliness from moving around. like i have a purpose to do in life, but even that is not enough when everything becomes too overwhelming and i... you know...” you tilted your head, making him think of the catalyst that brought him to your house and realize who you also are.

“the map of korea with the pins and the boxes...” heeseung builds up his sentence, “are you moving again?”

“ah...” you chuckle as your eyes shift to the faint map on the other side of the room. “i don’t know. depends on how much trouble my parents are with their spending, evading, and gaslighting. they don’t put away their stuff out of the box thinking that the people who chase them will come after them again and we have to move. but honestly, i just want a place to stay for even one year. let me finish high school and i can step aside from troubling them with their lifestyle... like a burden.” your eyes blink, their puffy from the tears of pain before and pleasure recently, but he can see the slight shimmer in your eyes coming back once again.

“the map is the places that i want to visit in the country. just stepping aside from seoul and its surrounding areas to visit the southern coast. i mostly want to visit yeosu. it is a small city unlike busan but it's on an island but smaller than jeju island. i also haven’t visited jeju. people said it is so much different compared to seoul.”

heeseung continues to rub your bare back as he takes in your thoughts, yet his mind pins the mention of the place that changed everything for him.

“i have been to jeju. the trip that i mentioned to you with that whole thing that changed eunho.”

your head rose as you held your hands against the mattress and his chest, looking at him as the boy had to close his eyes. remembering the events that transpired at that time.

“the tour guide there said to me a person died three times. first, the body dies, and then the heart, and lastly, the soul.” he brought one hand of his to cup your cheek. “eunho’s body died when we were bullied in middle school when he dared to defy the bullies and gotten punch so hard he had a concussion. his heart died when he discovered his parents were divorcing on that very trip. and his soul died that day, getting ripped away by the riptide on the coast of jeju island.”

heeseung looked aside before flicking his eyes back to you, “well...” he gulped, “he is the one that introduced me to moonstruck. when i was doing his errands. i think it’s also a reason i stick by him other than being his friend way back then.”

a bell rings in your mind with the new information, your cheek leaning closer to him as you now understand why he sticks so long with eunho. he was the anchor of heeseung’s life: revolving his life to accommodate eunho and how without the boy, heeseung would’ve not found out about moonstruck. the words he has spoken tell more of a story of gratitude wrapped in melancholy. a story of friendship tainted by the harshness of life, but instead of cowering in loneliness like you do, he held himself up to hang out with the “wrong crowd” instead.

“i think i’m stepping into that cycle of death myself. my body died when he controlled me to give him money and beat me up if i refused to do so. and... my heart nearly died when i thought i would never see you again.” his thumb brushed underneath your eye and he saw the tears clouding his sight.

“i am so, so sorry for making you go to the back of the school. i-“

“you were coerced, heeseung. it’s an all-or-nothing situation for you. and i just feel like that’s the best option you have in comparison to other options. i’m sorry as well for not stepping away from you when you had mentioned to do so. i, well, knowing just how similar our interests are does not make me want to let you go.”

“and that is very normal, (y/n).” he replies back to you. “i just hated that he and the others, including the girls, are only given two weeks knowing how many victims they have in this very school.” heeseung pushed his head back into the pillow and letting out an exhale.

“he won’t stop. people like him won’t stop. their reasoning for their bullying is too superficial that it changes over time. jealousy mostly. but it will still happen even after school.” you added to his mind palace, letting your head rest against his chest once again.

“let him go so you can move on.”

the words seep into heeseung’s mind as they echo. turning his head, he gives you a short lovely kiss with a small smile growing on his face.

“i have to.”

-

《moonstruck concert!!!》 《this saturday in seoul》 《from: 1004

《hey everyone!》 《i’ll be going to the concert tomorrow》 《if you ever see someone holding a green apple》 《it’s going to be me》 《let’s link up!》 《from: silver

the screeching noise of the rails vibrates along with the shake of the cart. you are wearing an all-white outfit from top to bottom. both of your knees were covered with knee pads as you looked down to examine the cigarette burns fading and blending in with the rest of the skin of your forearms. trailing your sight following the hand lands on fingers wrapping beside yours, heeseung’s head tilting back as he watches the lights of the train car light up with every movement towards the venue of the sports stadium. both of your tickets were in one side of his pockets as he had the other one inside the other where he stores his needed stuff.

both of you blend in the crowd as you walk out of the train and arrive at the station. as you climb the stairs up towards the roads, you both step aside from the bigger crowd to join the smaller crowd that is leading the path towards the venue. on the way there, you observe people in various shapes and sizes with their outfits approaching the enormous stadium that you can see across from where you are. you don’t let go of heeseung’s hand as you turn to the side, booths upon booths of food and beverages stand along with a merchandise booth beside the large jumbotron showing moonstruck’s promotional videos for angels, stopping both him and you on your tracks. but you also follow him to look towards the queue to get into the stadium—both of you holding the tickets for the best spots in the stadium.

“let’s divide and conquer. what merch do you want?” he stands close so he can whisper to you, the hand with both of your tickets still beside yours as you grab them tight.

“a small one that we can share. postcards maybe?”

“hmm... i’ll surprise you, angel.” he kisses your temple before pushing aside, “stand in the line for us.”

you smile back as he moves to cut the line of crowds towards the merchandise booth, seeing him blending in with his unbuttoned black shirt and white t-shirt combo. turning around, you head towards the line to stand by the stadium premises. the sky is approaching the evening as you gaze at half of the sun nearly covered by the large stadium. you take every step forward, looking around at the people that come here. in your imagination, you might have seen only a bunch of young people—teenagers to college age—who come to moonstruck’s concert. but you don’t expect many working-age adults and even those approaching middle age also be here. a smile emerges from your lips; moonstruck’s music transcends age and generations.

from your hearing, you caught a few mentions of your community of space station. how a few of the people hug as they seem to get to know each other from there. the sound of shrieking excitement sounded from a bunch of girls who wear outfits uniformed to the moon colours of the three albums of moonstruck. yet, your eyes are searching for two things: green apple of silver and heeseung.

having been the most active person when you are also online, silver is someone very knowledgeable about moonstruck. your opinions agree with each other and they also follow through with your celeste aura theory—making it spread to the online moonstruck fandom that you can feel your heart flutter from hearing some people mentioning it, especially the older ones. because of that connection, you really want to meet up with them and share your love of moonstruck with them. silver seems to be close to bambi especially when giving him the opinion so that heeseung could open up to you, so you hope those two could close online as well as offline.

your head turns to peer at the start of the queue, searching for heeseung as you stand as close to the edge of the lines as possible so that he can step inside and stand beside you. instead, you heard commotion coming from behind the cue.

“hey, brother. line the fuck up.”

“young boys and their little capacity for awareness.”

shifting back, you find the person who is making this ruckus, but when you look down to meet the green apple in his hand and the face of the owner, you can feel how your heart plummets down into the depths of earth.

“(y/n)!”

“eunho...”

you wanted to puke out the meal you and heeseung had before coming here as your eyes still looked at the green apple, not wanting it to be true until you could read the name “silver” on it written with a black marker. his arm drapes behind you. the sight of the green apple on your shoulder taunts you as you feel him holding you close.

“are you here alone?”

“no, i’m with-“

“ah,” he gasps inauthentically, “oh yeah, with heeseung, where is he anyway? that is so bad of him to leave you alone like that.”

your body reacted to move away from him and go back to heeseung’s embrace. but you looked down to see the hand that was holding your tickets was replaced with the green apple. the person before you had her ticket checked and cut through with a paper puncher and skips happily after she passes, resulting in both of you now standing together. eunho holds three tickets: one of his from the seating section and two of yours from your standing section near the stage. his nimble fingers quickly move to tuck the seating ticket away as the security punches the hole for the rest of the tickets and pushes you forward, stopping you from moving away as you remember the terms and conditions.

tickets with the punched holes aren’t able to enter the premises again.

your eyes watch in horror as you feel your nails pierce into the apple’s skin as you turn your body around, tip-toeing to search for heeseung’s familiar face in the crowd.

“heeseung!” you called out to him as you saw someone raising an arm up.

“(y/n)!” the voice calls you back as you find him in the line you were just in. you want to run to him, but eunho’s hand is too fast as he brings you back and slams you against his front. his arm wrapped around you as he pulls out the last ticket in his grasp, showing heeseung how it looks intact with no holes. his tight push against your chest and upper arms can’t make you raise them as the sound of the paper ripping makes you hiss and your eyes tremble with rageful tears. the ripped paper falls onto your chest as you collect it and push him away with all your might.

“FUCK YOU!” you run towards the security as heeseung is approaching close to the barricade. tears threatening to fall down your face as you approach one of the guards by the place.

“please let me out!” you plead as you find heeseung’s figure, his smile has fallen.

“you know you can’t step back inside-“

“i know. please, it’s an emergency,” you replied with a lie as the guard looked back at you before moving aside to let you walk away from the premises. you run towards heeseung as he looks at you with a panic in his face before his eyebrows furrowed.

“what is happening?” you cut him as you grab his arm and pull him away from the line, as far from the crowd approaching to enter the stadium, before you hug him tight.

“i’m so, so sorry.” he hears your mumbled voice as you cry into his chest. you felt the paper bag of the merchandise behind you as you pulled your head away for you to talk.

“what’s wrong, angel?”

you show him the green apple, nearly mushed from your grip as the writing on it is still readable, “it’s him.”

“silver, you met them?”

“yeah,” you take a deep breath, “it’s eunho.”

heeseung’s furrowed brows deepen, looking into your eyes to determine if you are actually telling the truth or not. but when he sees just how heartbroken you are inside, he knows it is true.

“he, he got our tickets and pushed me inside with them.” you pushed the crushed bits of paper in your other fist as you opened the palm and showed it. “this one is his. he tore it up so that you couldn’t get in.” you finished speaking as another gush of tears comes out of you, looking at his expression as you brace yourself to cower when you see the familiar spark of flame in his eyes lights up again.

instead, you felt him enveloped his hands around you. the sound of the screaming from inside is thrown away as the sky continues to darken. the mix of many emotions enveloped both of you as you felt him whisper in your ears.

“we’re going to be okay. we can sit down here and look at the jumbotron. everything will be fine.”

you hummed, every turmoil inside you move to his assuring words; mending both of your heart that is shattered into smithereens. when you hear the bass vibrating, you shift to the side as you stare at the stadium with the purple sky in the background. both of you stare at the concert venue full of “what should be”s as he brings you to sit aside on the warm pavement.

wiping your tears away, you look down at the paper bag heeseung bought from the merchandise booth as he pulls out the postcard set, but also a pair of small hoop earrings with crescent moons motive for you both to share with your pierced ears. your eyes gleamed as observed them before giving him a hug. you both listen along to the songs played even with the distance, recognisable to your ears as both of you compete to whisper the title as fast as possible. the light of the jumbotron competes with the one from inside the stadium, the city of seoul, and the beautiful nighttime sky. you see many visitors who are also eavesdropping on the concert, some buying the merch as you discussed if you have enough money to buy the remaining t-shirts.

hours pass as you both lay down on the pavement, listening to moonstruck like you always do on the rooftop, by the fields, and in each other’s bedroom as you see the little white dots in the sky. that is when you see the jumbotron changed, showing a new video you have never watched for the amount of cycle that has happened.

pushing your body upright, you walked to the front of the jumbotron screen that is much more massive than you: live footage from inside the venue.

moonstruck, her figure with her identifiable flowing long hair now as short until it reaches her shoulders. a guitar hanging by the strap across her body, strummed by her hands as you also noticed how the video behind her shows the beautiful supernova—hearing the song with the title playing.

your eyes looking between the girl and the picturesque video of the moon, remembering the moment when you wrapped so close to heeseung when you listened to this song for the first time. eyebrows furrowed as you felt the nerves around your eyes reacting. the shine of the screen reflects on you as even with the minimal colour, the prominent neon captures and swallows you into the colour that it reaches you deep. you take many sharp breaths, pushing yourself down as you don’t want to cry again.

the song continues as you look at the moon behind moonstruck. pink colour from the angels cover art captures your attention as you let out a pout, peeking from the corner of your eyes at the figure of the familiar boy who has his head turned to you. the ringing of her voice lingers as instruments disappear one by one. the screen shows the entire moon video, the pink and now purple shining right before you as you look down to see the text.

wanna fly towards the moon?

your fingers curl as you turn your palms to meet his; his own already moving instinctively and locking them with yours, agreeing to do what is written if it is with you.

the crowd from the concerts steps out into crowds of different sizes. there, left astray, walks eunho as he steps out by himself, his eyes glaring around to find a familiar face he has seen before the concert or the familiar face of the boy who had been by his side for the past 5 years. he found the former.

you still hold on to his green apple, feeling the brushes of shoulders walking past you as you continue to look at the dispersing crowd. your free hand is in a fist as you are met with the smile that haunts you and also heeseung. eunho takes his time, whisking around and about like nobody is watching him as he meets his eyes with you.

but then he heard a scream of a boy, a recognizable voice.

“there’s moonstruck.”

one.

“moonstruck is here.”

two.

the people that were walking past you turned around as eunho did and your eyes continued to stick to him. then, the gush of wind came as people behind you walked past forward and back towards the stadium. screams of moonstruck being sighted echo to the night as you felt eunho’s eyes back on you, lifting the hand that was holding his green apple as you take a bite of it before you are being covered by the rushing crowd. all coming near to where eunho stands.

his eyes continue to look towards the back, wanting to find the appearance of the musician who helped him through the trials of life as he felt himself going back into the crowd. hands pushing each other to move forward to return to the stadium. but one push felt so painful that he had to glance down: a trail of blood coming out beneath his t-shirt. his vision is full of rage that slowly dissipates as he looks behind to find the eyes of the person who had been with him: heeseung. eunho expected his friend could help him, but as his vision darkens, the sight of the boy escapes as he pushes past the crowd and goes towards the city.

heeseung emerges from the crowd as you let out a tremendous relief, hearing the loud cheers turn to panic.

“stand up! someone fell.” one of them travels to your ears as you watch heeseung jog back to you, wiping the bloodied pocket knife you let him borrow across his black shirt before flipping it back and putting it in his jean pocket where his tickets were supposed to be.

your footsteps quicken as you both walk away as far from the crowd as possible, hearing the scream of medics calling to the crowd as you both walk away. handing out the bitten apple, he takes a bite of it himself before he reaches for your hand and wraps them in his on the way back to your town.

to go back to a place where everything will be much more than normal as you both close this cycle of madness: beginning your lives again.

-

《the death of the boy at moonstruck’s seoul concert is haunting》 《from asphyxiation by the crowd crush to a stab to his back》 《someone was out for him》 《from: d1sc0rd

《that day changes the whole of space station and the rest of moonstruck’s fandom outside of it》 《was moonstruck actually there?》 《from: toro82

《she is...》 《i don’t know》 《seems like it》 《i was there too》 《also》 《it’s weird that pearl is not here》 《i hope they’re okay with the talk of the dead boy》 《from: 1004

《it’s creepy knowing that someone's last song to hear is moonstruck’s》 《from: walker0

《let’s hope pearl is okay》 《maybe they’re taking a rest because of this incident》 《we all should》 《from: cosmiccomet

-

the appearance of the flower vase on the seat beside you makes you harden as you listen to miss kang’s last remark before summer vacation starts.

your eyes look towards the corner of the room as you also see empty tables that belonged to your bullies, now vacant as the two girls are frazzled with the recorded evidence that landed them on hot waters alongside the boys with their punishments and the death of eunho. turning around, you checked out heeseung who has let the hair by his nape get long. his bangs framing his forehead as he looks at you with a smirk on his face.

drastic changes happen to heeseung after he closes the cycle with you, his words ringing into your head as you remember laying down beside him and watching the moon by the stadium.

“he won’t hurt more people again.”

and when he did the deed and waited at the station that would bring you home, he gave you a very hard kiss that took your breath away before giving the pocket knife back to you.

you walk past the entrance of the school building for the last time this semester as you peer down the road to find heeseung waiting for you by the gate.

“ready to get your bag?” he playfully asks as you nudge him with your shoulder.

“of course i do. the train ticket is right there and we won’t be able to go if i didn’t grab them.”

his giggle fluttering across from the two of you as you walked, remembering the plan of getting your bag from your house before going to heeseung’s to pick up his bag and greet heechan one last time—you know many things will change for the month his older brother will be away.

heeseung’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both walk down the road together, bringing you close to him as you feel his kiss linger on your temple before he whispers in your pierced ear, the crescent moon earring mirrored with his own.

“we see how we will settle there at yeosu. create connections and all.” you blinked your eyes as you shifted your head to look at him.

“one more year and we will live there...” his words echo the promise you both make.

“one more year and we will leave this place behind...” you continue the promise as you grab his hand and give the back of it a kiss, continuing to walk to your destination.

one more year and you will be with each other in your next lives.

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[authorhjk1]

Was just wondering.. How would RV members react when reader, their bf, wants to fuck them in cosplay.. And which characters would each RV members cosplay for reader to fuck?

Irene

She wouldn't be a fan of it. At least not at first. Irene would carefully ask you, what you had in mind for her. After telling her, she would consider it. The next time you come over, Irene waits for you in her bedroom. You can't believe how gorgeous she looks. You were afraid she would say no. But now, a beautiful elf is sitting in front of you. She knows how much you love Lord of the Rings, so she gave it a shot. She can't help but smile at the way you eyes take in every detail. Her green robe is a little more revealing than it usually would be.

Seulgi

Seulgi would love the idea. She says yes immediately, already having something in mind. Growing up, Seulgi really liked Disney princesses, so this was her chance. When you come home one night, you are surprised when the apartment is only dimly lit. Soft, Arabic music plays in the background and you can smell spices Seulgi bought for only this occasion. You're surprised that she would be into this so much. When you finally see her, you're blown away. Seulgi is wearing loose, almost see through turquoise pants. The matching top shows off a deep cleavage, exposing her shoulders and her back as well. The whole outfit is sparkling and decorated with expensive looking stones. Catching a glimpse of her blue, sparkling thong, you have to admit that this isn't exactly the outfit you remember. But Seulgi looks gorgeous. Sexy. But the highlight is something you thought you would never see on her. Seulgi decided to use her earring to attach a small, golden chain to it, which connects it with another small ring in her nose. Most definitely a clip on. But Seulgi's interpretation of princess Jasmine was more than you could've ever imagined.

Wendy

Wendy would be cautious at first. Being very self aware, she would hesitate, wondering why you would bring this up. Is she too boring? Do you want to be with someone else?

After assuring her that this was just an idea and that you love her, no matter what her decision would be, Wendy slowly warms up to the idea. Actually, her idea was a little unconventional. She didn't decide on a movie character or a person from a TV show or anime or whatever. No. Wendy knows who your favorite idol is. After herself and Red Velvet of course.

You're very aware that you keep staring very inappropriately, when Wendy makes a point of dancing in front of you. You are still surprised she chose to impersonate Somi. At first, you didn't really get what she put on. A blonde wig, a white top and a black leather skirt.

But as soon as she put on one of Somi's songs and started to dance, you immediately knew what was going on.

Joy

Joy loved the idea as soon as the question left your mouth. And she already had something in mind. You were surprised at how much she seemed to be into it. And when you asked her what she was gonna do, she just gave you a cheeky smile, before directing the conversation into another direction.

Two days later, Joy stands in front of you, a baseball bat over her shoulder. She dyed her hair specifically for this occasion. The ends of her blonde pigtails end in pink on her right and blue on her left. The words "Daddy's little monster" we're imprinted on her white and red top. Joy's blue shorts might have just as well been panties. They didn't cover much more, completely exposing her legs and especially her thighs. The choker on her neck, her fake tattoos on her arms and her makeup made her look evil and crazy.

Yeri

Yeri was the one who came up with the idea. She promised herself that she would try it out, if she ever found out a boyfriend. Which is now you. You're not completely surprised, when you come home and see Yeri in her Hogwarts robe and a wand in her hand. She likes to put it on, when the two of you go on a Harry Potter marathon. Which happens way more than you'd like to admit.

But this time, Yeri is holding a book as well. It looks like it's a small notebook, but she glued a page on top of the cover, making it almost look like an actual book. You have to give her credit for trying. She plays around with her emerald green tie, reading the book, while pretending not to notice you. Stepping closer, you finally catch the title. "Love potions, lust increasing plants and forbidden spells" You decide to play along. You grab the book, making Yeri gasp as she looks up.

"Professor..."

Glancing at the page, you realize Yeri put quite a lot of effort into this. The page really looks like it's from a book about magic. It's about two spells. She probably made up the Latin words for them. But one seems to increase the lust and arousal of a person, while the other... You raise an eyebrow.

"Miss Kim. Would you like to explain yourself?"

You can tell how turned on Yeri already is.

"I'm sorry, sir."

She doesn't seem to be sorry at all.

"I already tried out the second one."

You read it again, still surprised by Yeri's lewd description of the spell.

"This spell makes your pussy the tightest in the world. Side effects: increased lust, more and stronger orgasms,... "

You stop reading and slam the book shut.

"I hope you can make up for all the house points you just lost, Miss Kim."

You grab her by the tie and pull her towards the bedroom.

[4ranghaes]

Hiya!! Could I request christmas as parents with Taesan?

day 7 ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ christmas as parents!

han taesan x reader [fluff, fem!mum!reader, dad!taesan]

10:53 - “baekho-ya!” you exclaimed, “come, quickly!”

baekho’s head snapped in your direction, where you stood crouched beside his little sister. he ran from where he was bothering his dad in the kitchen.

“what, mummy?” the five-year-old said, placing his hand on your shoulder once he arrived at your side.

“look, it’s your favourite christmas decoration!” you gasped, pointing to the winnie the pooh ornament you’d bought when baekho was just a baby, for one of your first christmases at your new house.

you and seulgi were in the midst of decorating a tree (or you were, while your one-year-old daughter hindered under the appearance of help), but you and taesan had many conversations this year about how your little boy was growing up too fast and, if anything, losing the magic of christmas already.

baekho fought a smile, scoffing at your words. you smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist, “don’t you want to hang it on the tree?”

baekho looked back at taesan, who was now coming to join you.

“is that still his favourite? baekho’s a big boy now, remember,” taesan offered, “i like this one.”

he reached down into the box, pulling out a polar bear.

baekho watched with interest taesan organising the decoration on the tree. you smiled up at your husband, who then took your daughter in his arms, showing her the decoration (from a safe distance).

“well i like this one,” you said, digging around until you found the very first ornament you’d bought for baekho’s first christmas: a family of snowmen, with each of your names listed on each one. you nudged your son with a wink, “good job seulgi can’t read yet, hey?”

he giggled as you placed the decoration on the tree, studying it for a moment afterwards. he then reached down, gentle hands picking up the winnie the pooh bauble, “hmm. i think this is still my favourite, actually dad. be– because there’s a tiger here, and i’m tiger.”

you smiled, kissing your son’s head as you stood up, “nice. go on then, put it on the tree.”

taesan smiled down at his son as he rocked back and forth with seulgi in his arms, he didn’t want to push it too much, but he was happy to know his son wasn’t void of christmas spirit just yet, “hey bud, have you ever seen home alone?”

baekho looked at his dad; who, although he would scarcely admit it, was his hero. he shook his head.

taesan gasped, nodding, “it’s one of the bests. but it’s based at christmas, is that alright?”

baekho giggled, before nodding.

“yeah? i thought for a moment you didn’t like christmas,” taesan said, placing seulgi back down on the floor as the boys busied themselves with decorating the tree, baekho doing so absentmindedly.

“no! i like it,” baekho announced, in the way that children do about any matter: serious or not, “particu-lar-ly because of seulgi.”

“yeah?” taesan hummed, looking down at his son with intrigue, “why’s that?”

baekho looked at his little sister who was sat on the floor, staring up at the christmas tree lights. he laughed, “she likes it. and–and i was worried that santa wouldn’t know she existed. b-because it was only her first christmas. but she got loads of presents! but–but i was still worried this year, even so, so i added what i think she wanted when i wrote my list.”

taesan’s mouth dropped open, as he nodded, finally understanding why his sport-loving son asked for baby dolls and various baby sensory toys on his christmas list. he thought it’d been a joke.

“hey bud, you don’t need to worry about that!” taesan laughed, checking to see you were watching what your son was saying as you stood in the kitchen, “you know me and mummy are in close contact with santa, right? it’s a privilege you get when you become a parent.”

baekho giggled, taesan just nodding seriously.

“how about you re-write your list then, bud? cause we gave him some ideas, but we didn’t really know what you wanted for christmas!”

baekho nodded shyly, taesan smiling and patting him on the back, “go on, then. seulgi can help me with the tree, can’t you princess? yes!”

[yourdailymag]

Seulgi (Red Velvet) for Allure September 2020

[yerimacoustic]

𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 ♡ hoshi x reader

❝ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚 ❞ 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

summary : reuniting with old friends can prove to be more complicated than expected, especially when one unexpectedly reveals himself to be a courtier and your love for each other only grew stronger during your separation .

content warnings : courtier!hoshi x servant!female reader, royalty au, regency au, fantasy au, childhood friends to lovers, opposites attract trope, secret dating trope, reader and hoshi are in the twenties, swearing, angst, fluff, LOTS of kissing, extensive lore, kind of a near death encounter, some corruption in the royal court, featuring other members of seventeen & the boyz as well as seulgi and gahyun . not proofread . 17.3k wc .

notes : this is in the same universe as my joshua fic, for the first time, and my jeonghan au, more than expected . i am SO excited about this one, ngl, i started writing it like right after i published jeonghan’s. stay tuned for a possible part 2 of his btw 👀 once again, this is a work of fiction, there’s characters making bad decisions and it doesn’t reflect on how i feel about any of the idols in real life. hope you enjoy!!

after the newly crowned king and queen returned from their honeymoon, news spread throughout the palace that they wished to throw a ball. the rest of the staff, while weary of throwing such a lavish party after a nice week to themselves, followed through with the couple’s request and promptly started planning it. invitations were sent out to royals, meals were planned, and the decorating preparations had already begun. 

as much as you loved working during the parties and experiencing what you could of the extravagance and glamour, obviously you hated setting everything up in the ballroom and taking it down the next day. at least during the actual ball you were able to enjoy the music, admire everyone’s beautiful dresses, maybe sneak a plate of delicious food out to the balcony.. 

luckily you weren’t the only one that shared this sentiment. you and your best friend, seulgi, shared an unfortunate hobby of gossiping whenever you got the chance to clean the same room together. and today you were tasked with cleaning the ballroom before setting up the decorations and fetching the finest porcelain.

while she started stripping the dark red drapes off of the large windows to replace them with gold ones, you scrubbed the floor almost mindlessly. she called out to you and boldly stepped onto the tall ladder, “so…how do you think the honeymoon went?”

you snickered, staring at your reflection on the wet marble floor for a moment. you were always weary about gossiping with her in the spacious ballroom, considering the echoes.. “obviously pretty well, if they’re planning a ball the day after their return.” 

seulgi snickered, “good point.” she let the large drapes fall to the floor, resulting in clouds of dusting forming in the air. luckily she’d grown accustomed to the discomfort and didn’t let out so much as a tiny sneeze. “i heard that prince juyeon and prince jaehyun were invited. they’re so handsome, don’t you think?” 

you shrugged while scrubbing at a few particularly nasty dark scuffs on the marble. “i suppose. although, after hearing all about the ‘swoonworthy juyeon’ i think i’ve become desensitized to the notion of a handsome prince swooping in to save the day.”

“fine, more for me then,” seulgi chuckled and began hanging up the sheer, gold drapes that shone so beautifully in the sunlight. she would have stopped to admire her work if she wasn’t determined to get it all over with. “you’re probably more excited to eavesdrop on the nobles’ conversations, anyways.”

your cheeks heated up at her well-intended teasing. “only so we can enjoy these moments together. now keep your voice down, i thought i heard footsteps outside.” 

seulgi smirked to herself before following through with your request.. at least for a few more minutes. once all of the windows were adorned with beautifully crafted golden curtains, she knelt down next to you under the guise of helping you clean the floor. “have you heard why they might be throwing the ball?”

once you dipped the rag into the bucket of soapy water, your friend promptly snatched it out of your hands. you let out a short scoff in protest, your efforts of stealing it back from her proving to be fruitless.. “seulgi, i’m trying to-”

unfortunately, your best friend had a very contagious laughter and it wasn’t too long before giggles filled the ballroom, echoing off the walls. “someone said it's probably because they’re expecti-”

the door clicked open and you bit your tongue to prevent a shriek from escaping your lips. seulgi dropped the rag and you promptly picked it up, scrubbing the floor with as much efficiency as you could muster in the moment. seulgi panicked and rushed towards the pile of dirty curtains across the room, making it just in time for the king and his steward to walk in.

“oh good,” seungkwan beamed. “the two of you are making great time.”

you nodded and rose to your feet, stumbling over them as you curtsied. “your highness.” seulgi mirrored your actions, smiling in the young king’s direction. 

jeonghan nodded politely towards you both, his eyes scanning the spacious room before him. there was a distinct twinkle within his dark irises and something told you that it had nothing to do with the clean space before him.. “i’ll say. thank you both, the queen and i appreciate your efforts.”

you had to hold back a chuckle; honestly the two of you hadn’t gotten much work done yet. something about jeonghan’s heightened cheerfulness was suspicious. maybe seulgi’s theory had a hint of truth to it.. “thank you, your majesty,” you told him politely.

“don’t forget to display the finest porcelain sets. i’m sure we have something that matches the curtains perfectly,” jeonghan added just before turning his back on the two of you. 

“of course,” seulgi nodded. although, the two of you were confused; normally jeonghan couldn’t be bothered to be so involved in something as trivial as party planning. but he seemed so joyful with his request; it was..odd, to say the least. then again, maybe you were overthinking it.. 

seungkwan followed closely behind jeonghan, though he made an effort to look at the two of you with comically raised eyebrows just before shutting the door. your heart sank as suspicion clouded your mind; had the two of them heard everything? seulgi, however, took the opposite approach and ran to you, grabbing your hand. 

“see? i was right,” she beamed.

you laughed incredulously, though you couldn’t bring yourself to push seulgi’s hand away. “how can we know anything from barely even a five minute encounter?” 

seulgi snickered, “come on, y/n. there’s no denying that things are looking up around here again. have a little faith.”

“maybe.” another chuckle fell from your lips before your gaze fell to the newly polished floor, where distinct footprints in the water had already begun to trail towards the door. on any other occasion, you would’ve fought back a remark of annoyance, but something about seulgi’s words prevented you from even formulating one.  

—--------------

the ballroom was possibly the most crowded it had ever been the night of the party. it was difficult to make your rounds throughout the room while feeling forced to carry the tray full of champagne flutes so close to your chest. the last thing you wanted was to drop the expensive glass all over the floor; the results could have been catastrophic even without such a large crowd surrounding you.

you recognized a few of the guests, namely a few that had attended several of the family’s past parties. prince juyeon was in attendance, of course, turning several heads from the moment he entered the palace. princess yoohyeon, who looked as stunning as ever, walked along the dance floor with the utmost grace and poise. the atmosphere was bright and cheerful, as per usual, but something about this night seemed different from the rest. you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

after the tray was nearly empty and you felt deserving of a break, you crossed to the back of the room. seulgi and gahyun stood with their backs against the wall, their emptied trays displayed on one of the nearest tables. you sighed heavily upon setting yours down and ensuring the flutes were secure, “what a turnout.”

“you’re telling me,” gahyun snickered. you followed her gaze to the crowd ahead until you, too, caught a glance of the queen. gahyun always seemed to be on her guard in case the queen needed anything. almost to a fault, actually. even as she took five minutes for herself, her figure appeared to be quite stiff.

seulgi said nothing, a small smile tugging at the one corner of her lips as she gazed at the couples near the center of the room. she even shifted her weight from one foot to the other on occasion, vaguely appearing to sway to the music. not that you could blame her, of course.

“what are you three doing?” a hushed voice from your left reprimanded. you were startled to say the least, jolted off of the wall before you whipped your head back to see sangyeon with a distasteful expression. 

you were the first to apologize, your expression much too sincere for seulgi’s liking. “sorry. we were just-”

“it’s impossible to move out there,” seulgi interjected while making no attempt to disguise her annoyance. “everyone’s shoulder to shoulder, i’m surprised they’re even able to breathe!”

sangyeon clearly had no interest in entertaining seulgi’s complaint. he simply shook his head, his dark hair slightly bouncing with the movement. “even so, you’ve been tasked with accommodating our guests to the best of your ability. now, move along.”

the three of you shared a reluctant glance before refilling your trays. before you could follow the two girls to the dance floor, however, sangyeon called out to you in his characteristically gentle tone, “not you. they require libations in the library.”

the library?

“yes, sangyeon.” with a dismissive nod, you took your time exiting the ballroom and searching for the library. the orchestra’s beautiful music muffled the further you stepped into the hallway and was promptly replaced by much quieter conversations behind the heavy library doors. 

as expected, the guests seemed more excited at the notion of the drinks’ arrival than yours. most of the glasses were gone before you’d taken more than five steps into the room. you made your rounds regardless, stealing a few quick glances at the card tables. you might have been more compelled to watch a round or two if you had any interest in poker.

seated on the plush red furniture near the corner of the room was a small group of men, a few of them standing and effectively concealing the back of an armchair. you cleared your throat before plucking up the courage to approach them, timidly standing behind a few of the much taller men. “champagne, anyone?”

perhaps the tallest duo of the group, wonwoo and mingyu, turned to face you and relieved you of a glass. the way they moved in perfect synchronization was almost alarming… then someone sitting with their back towards you slapped his own knees rather dramatically before he braced off of his chair, stepping through the awkward space between sofas to stand in front of you.

the man’s hand froze near one of the glasses once the two of you made eye contact, however, a flustered expression taking over his features. somehow, you spoke before he could, your tone low but bewildered. “soonyoung…?”

“oh my..” he paused, his eyes growing wide as saucers before you could even blink. suddenly, it dawned on him. “y/n?? is it really you??”

“yes,” you laughed incredulously, the tray in your hands briefly shaking with the impact. “yes it’s really me.”

soonyoung beamed and you could have sworn it lit up the entire room. “i- this is ludicrous! what are you doing here?? how have i never seen you in the palace??”

you shrugged, minding the flutes in your hands, and bashfully replied, “not very observant.. i guess?”     

he laughed, flashing another infectious smile. until that moment, you’d never fully realized just how much you’d missed his energetic grins. “well i guess not. i’ve been with the royal court for, uh- almost a full year now. i think. what a shame.”

“on the bright side, now we both know to keep an eye out for each other,” you offered with a tilt of your head. 

while you kept his colleagues and friends behind him in mind and spoke in a low, almost timid tone, he seemed to forget all about them. not that it surprised you, of course; conventional propriety wasn’t always his strong suit. “you’re exactly right,” he nodded rather quickly. “wow. it’s been too long. you’ve changed so much! your hair’s so much longer now.”

you chuckled to yourself, looking down at the uniform you wore strictly for special occasions within the palace walls. even your finest rags couldn’t compare to soonyoung’s beautifully crafted robes; if anything, he was the one who’d changed. 

but for some reason, you had a feeling soonyoung spoke with such heartfelt honesty when he complimented you. just as he always did. “you look..” you paused, just before giving your oldest friend the same treatment. “pretty much exactly the same.”

he laughed once again, startling one of the men behind him. a distinct shiver rushed down your spine when his hand briefly made contact with your elbow, the fleeting contact bringing heat to your cheeks. “i hope that’s a good thing. listen.. why don’t we catch up? i’m in line for the next round of poker, would you play with me?”

you parted your lips just moments before your gaze fell to the table and a crushing realization hit you. “as..tempting as that sounds,” you faced him with an apologetic smile. “i really should get back to work.”

soonyoung nodded immediately in understanding, the disappointment disappearing from his irises in the blink of an eye. “right. right, yeah of course. i’ll see you around. don’t be a stranger, alright?”  

“of course. i’ll keep an eye out for you around the castle,” you promised, albeit a little emptily. the chances of mingling with soonyoung as you so often used to were low, you knew that well.

even so.. the smile that he bid you goodbye with was just too charming to ignore. he really hadn’t changed.

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

your reunion with soonyoung put a spring in your step, even hours after the party had died down and you were stuck in the kitchen, cleaning all of the dishes. seulgi joined you not too long after disposing of the table scraps and gathering the remaining champagne flutes. “what a night,” she sighed loudly, her shoulder brushing against yours as she began to assist you in cleaning. 

“where’s gahyun?” you asked.

“she’s with her majesty,” she replied emotionlessly. “it would’ve been nice to have at least one more person in here.”

“never mind that, i’m glad it’s just the two of us,” you beamed, keeping a low tone as you spoke. “can..i confide in you?”   

seulgi’s hand briefly came to a stop, her plate only halfway dried. she didn’t have to say too much to convey her intrigue upon hearing your words. “always.”

you grinned, admiring your friend’s penchant for gossip. maybe it was out of bashfulness or determination to get all of your work done, but you barely looked up from the dirty sink water as you spoke. “i..reunited with someone today.”

her eyebrows shot up. it took her a moment to follow in your footsteps and continue drying the dishes. “with who?”

“this..old friend i had,” you started. “his name’s soonyoung. he’s in the royal court.”

“the royal court?” she repeated incredulously. “you mean to tell me you’ve been friends with someone in the royal court all this time and have only just now realized?” 

you shrugged again, laughing quietly at the absurdity of it all. “neither of us could really believe it either.”

“well,” she stopped wiping the porcelain in favor of leaning against the countertop with her arms folded across her chest. she stared at you in a concentrative gaze, clearly invested now. “tell me more about this soonyoung.”

you paused, a short chuckle leaving your lips and signalling your confusion. “what would you have me tell you?”

seulgi let out a dramatic groan of annoyance before swatting lightly at your elbow, which you knew was all in good fun. “come on, everything! the beginning is always a great place to start, you know.”

against your better judgement, you stopped working in favor of mirroring her position and leaning against the sink. stealing a quick glance out the kitchen window, you realized just how late it must have been.. and yet you didn’t even feel tired. with that being said, it took everything to disguise the excitement in your voice as you spoke,

“well.. my mother raised me near the river, it’s quite far from here. one day i was skating on the ice, trying to see all of the rocks shining brightly on the streambed several feet below. i was kneeling near the center of the river, horrible idea i know, when suddenly a boy with spiky hair and a red scarf stumbles next to me without any skates on and asks why i’m staring at the ice. as it turned out, his mother and mine were inside sewing together after having just met. and..as they spent more time together, so did soonyoung and i.

“we did everything together. for almost our entire childhood, we were inseparable. then.. one day, he came into a great fortune. his uncle left him his estate, his money- everything. he and his mother moved far away not long after that. it.. hurt. really, really badly. he was my best friend. but i got over it eventually.” 

seulgi nodded and offered you a sad, sympathetic smile. it was hardly necessary in your mind, of course. “well.. you’re together now,” she finally spoke after a moment of silence, as if she was contemplating the beautifully tragic story of yours. “you have the perfect opportunity to rekindle your relationship.”

you nodded with the same dismissive air you held near soonyoung just hours earlier. you had unfortunately learned a long time ago not to get your hopes up, lest they be dashed in almost every instance imaginable. the mere fact that the two of you had taken this long to reunite, after only being separated by a few walls and staircases, told you everything you needed to know: too much had changed. the difference in either of your social standings was much more distinguishable. 

“i suppose you’re right.” you broke away from the sink, placing stacks upon stacks of saucers, plates and cups in their respective spots in the cupboards. seulgi, noticing your deflection, said nothing and followed in your footsteps. she didn’t have to say anything to convey her persistence, however- you were certain this wasn’t the last time you would hear from her concerning the matter of kwon soonyoung. 

—---------------

meetings with the other courtiers, more often than not, had the tendency to drag on much longer than was necessary. after the king and queen returned from their honeymoon, soonyoung fully expected the meetings to be extended much longer, much to his chagrin. they had a lot of ground to cover, seeing that the monarchs had obviously been unable to attend a lot of informative meetings. 

on any other given occasion, soonyoung would have forced himself to almost perform to the best of his ability. he would have put his head down and powered through all of his paperwork, the speeches and seemingly endless debates, smiled and nodded with the guise of pretending to know what everyone else was talking about. but..that day he simply felt that his heart wasn’t in it. 

he sat in his assigned seat, sandwiched between wonwoo and mingyu, with his shoulders hunched over in a less than courteous countenance and his chin lowered. he’d almost brushed all of the barbs of his feathered quill seemingly dipped in a pool of amethyst into a satisfying pattern before a loud cough near his ear startled him. he whipped his head up, immediately face to face with jihoon. 

the highest official of the royal court, although being a much kinder man outside of the great hall, intimidated soonyoung more than the latter would have liked to admit. he stood before the pew with an expectant look, the all too familiar look of annoyance in his eyes. “anything to add, soonyoung?” 

soonyoung looked slowly to his colleagues on the left with wide, somewhat pleading eyes, and then to the right. when it became clear that no one was to jump into the treacherous waters and save him, he faced jihoon with a sheepish grin, “oh..yes. yes, absolutely. we should-” he paused, expertly flipping through the stacks of parchment before reading from the expert cursive, “introduce the court to the land proposition-”

jihoon pulled away with a heavy sigh, which was as deliberate as it was short lived. soonyoung knew all too well it was the best he could do to keep the lid on the cauldron before everything boiled over and made a mess. mingyu, having to disguise an ill-timed snicker as a cough, promptly elbowed soonyoung in the side and muttered, “well done.”

“thanks,” soonyoung replied hastily. 

“soonyoung-” jihoon started in a much louder tone, startling the man and prompting him to sit in a proper position. he pulled out a larger piece of parchment and the entire court stared in intrigue at the charcoal drawing of what appeared to be a gem, an unmistakable aura emulating from the stone. it looked so familiar… “do you know what these are?” 

soonyoung racked his brain, a hum of concentration falling from his lips. “um..no, i can’t say i do.”

jihoon didn’t appear surprised or even somewhat fazed by his words. he started, “these are moonstones. legend has it that they contain a very powerful magic and anyone who is in possession of them is gifted with extraordinary abilities.” he paused, turning to the king and queen. “we need to find them. your highness, imagine the possibilities-”

jeonghan finally spoke, raising an eyebrow. “and what exactly do you propose?”

“we need to find them by the next full moon,” jihoon explained. “if anyone knew what power we possessed, wh-”

jeonghan cut him off in an effortless, cool tone with a seemingly bored countenance. “they wouldn’t be able to say no to trading or alliances?” he paused, shaking his head, but would not outwardly showcase his disappointment. “by using force, essentially.. that is not how you make allies or friends, for that matter, jihoon. we wouldn’t be respected, we would be feared.”

wonwoo rose to his feet, his shoulder brushing against soonyoung’s with the movement. “i’m sure jihoon has the best intentions, your highness. we need to face the facts.. our kingdom isn’t what it used to be. land management is in a rapid decline, morale is at an all time low.. we need more capital.”

“we’ll find another way,” jeonghan stated lowly, seemingly unbothered. “let’s move on.”

soonyoung could only watch the scene play out before him with an incredulous expression. he’d witnessed many arguments within the great hall, both courteous and otherwise… something told him that the stakes had since been raised. maybe he’d chosen the wrong day to pay less attention (or frankly, no attention at all) during a parliament meeting. 

something etched at his heart, something he wouldn’t soon forget. it resembled.. hopelessness. there were plenty of days where he found himself questioning his capability in his inherited position as a courtier.. suddenly, he was wishing for this day to be over.   

his wish came true within the hour; although, he remained seated as the sound of lazy footsteps and rustling papers echoed through the air. he ignored a haughty remark from mingyu, who departed from the great hall in a timely manner with wonwoo practically attached at his hip. soonyoung returned to his slumped seated position, his chin falling into his palm. 

what just happened..? 

he must have voiced his confusion out loud, for the tiniest chuckle sounded from the furthest corner in the room. he tilted his head to see you standing with a feather duster in one hand and a bucket of soapy water in the other. suddenly..he felt lighter than air. he straightened out his shoulders with a broad smile, feeling as if he could have flown off of his seat.

he ignored your apologetic remark, chuckling happily, “fancy seeing you here.”

you walked towards him with timid steps, keeping your eyes peeled for any intruders as you approached the pews. you spoke with such a quiet, soft voice that made soonyoung’s heart flutter, “it’s normally yunjin cleaning this room after the meetings. something came up so i took on all of her work.”

soonyoung’s eyes narrowed, “so you’re doing twice as much work today?” you nodded, unintentionally pulling a sigh of forlorn from him. “absolutely shameful. this should not be allowed.”

you laughed quietly, very quietly, at his effortlessly comedic tone. “her mother’s fallen ill,” you explained. “i did what anyone else would have done.”

“yes, but no one else did. that’s what matters,” soonyoung looked up to you with a dazzling smile, one that you hadn’t forgotten even since you’d been forced apart. one that you’d missed so terribly. “you work so hard. do you get a break any time soon?”

you shook your head without an ounce of self pity, “no.”

his smile quickly faded, his eyebrows furrowed. “no??”  

you laughed again, just barely louder this time, as you still held onto the fear that anyone could walk in and interrupt the two of you. “really- i don’t mind it so much. it keeps my mind off things.”

soonyoung tilted his head, pondering your words and seemingly placing himself in your shoes. truthfully, he wished he could have some sort of outlet to escape his own thoughts, even if it was something as boring as cleaning. “in that case..can i help you?” he asked.

you paused, scoffing without any malice. “you’re serious?” when he, without any hesitation, nodded, you scoffed again. “you don’t have anywhere to go?”

“i do,” he shrugged. “but i’d rather be with you.”

you paused, his words, his tone, the look in his eyes that further cemented the genuineness in his words, all of it echoing in your mind until it grew fuzzy. you must have looked like an idiot, standing as stiff as a board with your softened gaze. “uh-” you started, looking down at your hands. “i only have one rag-”

“that’s fine.” without so much as a warning he plucked the rag from your hands and stepping off of the pew, dropping to his knees and landing near your feet. he needed no invitation, no command, to start scrubbing the cracks in the tile. for a moment you could only stand still in disbelief, watching him make no attempt to prevent his beautiful robes from getting dirty.  

he cleaned the floor with such deliberation, his arms practically a blur as he scrubbed in hurried back and forth motions. after snapping out of your amused bewilderment, you approached the thrones and began to swat at the tiny cobwebs with the feather duster. for a moment, both of you cleaned in silence, merely enjoying each other’s company under less than ideal circumstances. 

you kept to yourself for a moment, trying to stay out of his way for more than one reason. a glance would be sent towards the large door across the room now and then, the fear of being caught with someone above your station firmly planted in the front of your mind. it was bad enough for the two of you to be caught in such casual conversation, it was another thing entirely to be cleaning together.

once he reached the center of the floor, he took a break in favor of wiping dramatically at his brow. his loud sigh of exhaustion filled the room, prompting you to snicker. “wow. i don’t know how you do this all day,” he remarked before bending over the floor once again. 

you paused, biting back a smile while letting the feathers dance across the large window of stained glass. shadows of blue and pink danced across the floor and even soonyoung’s figure. “you get used to it, i suppose,” you shrugged. “but it might help if you didn’t move your arms so aggressively.”

he snickered, stopping his ministrations immediately. “right.. well, how do you do it?”

you glanced back towards the window, which was clean enough by your standards, and stepped towards him. after crouching down onto your aching knees, you watched him dip the rag into the warm water and wring it out a few times for good measure before placing his hand flat upon the floor again. “like this-” 

casting all of your fears and judgements to the side, you placed your palm above his, both your fingers just barely lacing while prompting his hand to move a bit softer along the tile. the two of you moved the rag in smooth, circular motions for a moment before soonyoung stopped dead in his tracks, keeping his hand firmly in place. you parted your lips, about to protest before lifting your head up to see him staring with a helpless smile.

it took him a moment to compose himself, gather his thoughts, finding your eyes to be just too magnetizing. “sorry,” he snickered loudly, though it didn’t startle you in the slightest.

“why are you apologizing?” you asked quietly. 

“i’m probably not making your work go by any faster,” he spoke in a much slower tone than you were used to hearing from him. 

“oh,” you chuckled with your realization, taking a look behind you at the wet floor, then in front of you, towards the surfaces that had yet to be cleaned. yet.. somehow you felt no ounce of dread. “i’m in good company. i can’t really complain.” you mentally berated yourself for allowing such a risky statement to leave your lips. as great as your company was, it wasn’t allowed. the two of you knew that well, there was no sense voicing your anxieties to him.   

however, if soonyoung had any anxieties, they were nowhere to be seen. he moved his free hand to brush through a lock of your hair, effectively tucking it behind your ear and keeping it out of your line of vision. as if that action wasn’t enough to prompt butterflies to take flight in your stomach, he beamed, “i’ve always loved your hair.”

you sat on your knees, still as a statue, as a flustered smile tugged at your lips. he must have noticed your lack of composition, for he laughed, the beautiful sound filling the air of the otherwise achingly quiet room. “i’ve always loved yours,” you tilted your head towards the messy dark strands in question, chuckling.

“really?” he let out another laugh, one you found infectious. it wasn’t long before the two of you were sharing hushed giggles and you found yourself leaning into him. as your cheek made brief contact with his shoulder, you came to realize that his robes were much softer than you’d imagined. spun from the finest silk, no doubt.

“really,” you repeated through a short chuckle, composing yourself enough to break apart from him and meet his gaze again. you watched him part his lips, and somehow you knew he was just dying to tell you something but wasn’t equipped with the right words to do so. before you could prompt him to go on, say whatever was on his mind without any consequence, a loud, unexpected click echoed across the room. 

just as you stumbled away from him and snatched the rag from his hands, jihoon exclaimed, “soonyoung! what is the meaning of this?”

soonyoung was quick to rise to his feet and dust off his dark robes. “i was just hel-”

“no excuses,” his voice boomed. you didn’t dare to pull your gaze away from the floor as you scrubbed the tile like you never had before, moving much more efficiently towards the other side of the room. if you had to guess, he was glaring daggers at the other man. “show some refinement. the others are waiting for you in the library.”

the library… oh god. soonyoung awkwardly shuffled towards his seat, hurriedly grabbing his notes and quill. he was, at the very least, grateful that he’d screwed the bottle of ink shut before lifting it off the table. “oh- yeah, my apologies. i’ll be right there.”

jihoon, however, did not leave the room as the two of you had expected him to. soonyoung clenched his jaw and mentally cursed; he’d wished for the opportunity to apologize to you, maybe ask if he could see you again.. but there was no chance for him to do so. perhaps jihoon had made sure of that. instead, he could only mouth an apology to you before stumbling towards his superior, who motioned him promptly out of the room.

once the loud click sounded through the room once more, you halted your scrubbing. there was no way of knowing what jihoon suspected you of doing. for whatever reason, that was much more terrifying than knowing what the highest official of the royal court, the man with more influence and power than you could ever dream of possessing, had in store.

—-------------------------------

soonyoung had known fully well what was so urgent in the library that jihoon had bursted through the door to drag him towards the room in question. although something deep within him knew that these secret meetings were less than ideal, less than legal, perhaps, he couldn’t bring himself to protest. therefore, jihoon kept a stern grip on his arm as he led him through the wide hallway. 

“frankly, i don’t see what all the fuss is about,” he argued in a casual tone. “the king and queen have turned in for the night. why can’t we?”

“it’s not even dinner time yet, soonyoung,” jihoon bit back, the annoyance in his voice practically tangible. “shall i purchase you a pocketwatch?” 

soonyoung shrugged, as if to sincerely compliment the man’s offer. “may actually do me well.” he paused, offering jihoon a sheepish grin. “look.. i’m sorry. i forgot.”

jihoon pressed his lips to a thin line, allowing a sigh to escape from his nostrils. “don’t apologize. just pay attention in this next meeting, i beg of you.” 

soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows, taking offense from the other man’s words. “what?? i do pay attention.”

jihoon snickered, “keep telling yourself that.”

although the library was one of the more spacious rooms in the palace, the members of the court were packed inside like sardines. they whispered amongst each other, breaking apart in a comedic fashion once soonyoung pushed the door open. their subject of conversation wasn’t lost on soonyoung; he knew fully well they were talking about him. but he didn’t care.

soonyoung’s colleagues were not the only ones enjoying the spacious library while making sure to keep quiet. a few men that he didn’t recognize were scattered throughout the room, examining the royals’ impressive collection of books. he furrowed his eyebrows- this was definitely new. “jihoon-” he started. “who’s-”

“now we can finally get started,” jihoon announced, standing before everyone in the room with an effortlessly confident and authoritative air. “i wanted to introduce sunwoo, eric, and younghoon. they’re from the western kingdom. and- well, you already know prince juyeon.”

what in the world.. 

“we appreciate you taking the time to meet with us,” jihoon stated, plastering a quick, somewhat manufactured smile of gratitude upon his lips. he pulled out the same drawing of the moonstone he’d displayed just an hour earlier and soonyoung’s mind went fuzzy. “according to legend…”

soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows, feeling as if he could wilt like a dying flower. he had always looked up to jihoon. he’d always admired his drive, his dedication. but somehow.. somehow he’d found a way to rid himself of all his good intentions and allow brashness and arrogance to take over. it felt untoward. it felt corrupt. 

what prompted the sickening feeling in his stomach was the fact that none of his colleagues, none of the men he considered friends, batted an eye. truthfully, for a time, neither had soonyoung, himself. in his defense, every secret meeting before this one seemed so innocent.

“i don’t understand,” prince juyeon spoke, pulling soonyoung out of his daze. for a moment, he held onto the smallest light of hope, suspecting the prince of being just as skeptical. his hopes were soon dashed when the prince sat more comfortably upon the plush red chair, his chin falling to his palm before he spoke, “you would risk going behind your king’s back, putting all your faith, all your kingdom’s resources, towards a mere legend? towards hearsay?” 

“that’s exactly why we’re not using all of the kingdom’s resources to find these relics.” jihoon turned around, facing soonyoung with an expectant glance. “soonyoung will go. alone.”

“what?!” not for the first time that day, soonyoung wished he’d elected to pay more attention. to put his best foot forward, to put his head down and power through the inconvenience of a work meeting. really, to put on a performance.    

mingyu chimed in from the back of the room, a slightly malicious scoff leaving his lips, “you’re the director of land management, are you not? you should know the kingdom better than anyone.”

“but-” soonyoung started, his gaze shifting towards every direction in the room until he caught another glance of the stupid drawing in jihoon’s hand. once again, he was met with a strange feeling of familiarity.. he could have sworn he’d seen those strange looking rocks before. surely he would have remembered if he’d come across an apparently all powerful stone before, right? “jihoon- i can’t.”

the man in question furrowed his eyebrows, the worst form of disappointment within his countenance. “and why ever not?”

“it’s..” he paused, taking a look around the room once more in desperate search for a hand. for anyone, anyone, even his new supposed ‘friends’ from the other kingdom to chime in and agree with him. for anyone other than himself to provide a much needed voice of reason. but it never happened. “it’s..wrong. we can’t just go behind jeonghan’s back like this. don’t you think his kingdom’s already been met with enough scandals?”

jihoon seemed temporarily amused by his words. “jeonghan is.. inexperienced. if you remember, soonyoung, he wasn’t even supposed to lead.” he turned around, facing the only portrait of the entire royal family left in the castle. the eldest sister in question sat next to jeonghan with a warm smile; even a replica of her expression lit up the room. “he doesn’t know what’s best for the kingdom. i think that much is becoming increasingly clear.”

soonyoung scoffed, disbelief taking over his features. “be that as it may, he’s still the king. he still has authority over you.”

“and i still have authority over you,” jihoon stated calmly. “i think you, of all people, should be wary of keeping inexperienced voices silent.”

the aching in soonyoung’s heart returned, jihoon’s harsh words striking a tender chord. while he had not always voiced his insecurities that came with inheriting his uncle’s place in the royal court, he believed that his actions spoke louder than words more often than not. to hear such berating words come from someone that he considered a good friend startled him more than potential consequences for treason.

which was worse? betraying the king who’d always shown him respect, or betraying his direct superior, who perhaps, held even more authority over him? who had much more influence over him, his very way of living?

“so then it’s settled,” jihoon finally stated, his gaze breaking away from soonyoung. “once soonyoung finds a generous amount of the gems, prince juyeon and his entourage are entitled to half the capital.”

“half?” wonwoo asked incredulously. “half? it’s soonyoung doing all the work. i say they get a third.”

younghoon, the man who presumably held a similar position to jihoon, snorted, “do you want the reinforcements or not?” such a short but deliberate statement on the other man’s behalf forced soonyoung to gulp, the queasy sensation in his stomach returning. 

reinforcements?

—-----------------------

as much as you loved working with seulgi, there were plenty of times you enjoyed cleaning in silence. sometimes it was quite relaxing to work on your own, to get lost in your thoughts and even hum a quiet tune while tidying the second and third floor of the palace to perfection. more often than not, being alone allowed you to get all of your chores done in a much more timely manner.

you sat on the balcony, cross legged, with your back against the cold bricks of the castle. you released a deep breath you’d seemed to be holding throughout the entire day, staring at the gray clouds above you. they stirred within their positions in the sky, as if to settle comfortably after a long day, just as you were doing.  

while staring at your palms, you imagined the presence of soonyoung’s hands below them, the feeling practically imprinted within your skin after several days. you ached for another fleeting encounter with him, even just a quick look into his warm, friendly eyes or a brush of his hand against yours. he possessed every thought of yours throughout the day, his laugh and his smile echoed throughout your mind.. 

you had no other way to describe these feelings besides intense, restless, awfully embarrassing yearning. but for what? that was the million dollar question, it seemed.

footsteps sounded behind the french doors and for a moment, you wondered if seulgi had finally found you. however, you were quickly proved wrong when the man of the hour stepped onto the balcony, his eyes immediately finding yours as an apologetic frown surfaced. “oh, i’m sorry-”

“no,” you protested a little too quickly. “it’s alright, i was just leaving.”

he watched as you rose to your feet, brushing the dust off of your skirts, and his gaze immediately softened, “no, please- you don’t have to go.” before you could protest, however, he chuckled, “actually, i would love someone to talk to right now.”

you looked towards the large doors, clouded by thick curtains on the other side of the windows. at least if anyone would think to look for either of you on the third level of the palace, the fabric was thick enough to cover your shadows. and it was getting dark out.. “alright.” with a small chuckle, you sat on the ground and returned to your comfortable position once more.

soonyoung sat next to you, right next to you, his shoulder and knee pressing against yours as he leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. he sat with his legs crossed, staring up at the clouds as if to search intently for any compelling patterns. after a pause of silence, he chuckled, “this is just like old times, isn’t it?”

you chuckled soon after, briefly remembering a summer where the two of you spent the majority of your shared time laying on the grass, staring up at the sky and trying to find patterns within the clouds. “mhm,” you hummed. 

“oh, look! that one’s a teddy bear,” he remarked, pointing towards the graying cloud in question. another chuckle escaped from your lips; he was right, the stormcloud vaguely resembled a stuffed animal. “really nice..”

“indeed,” you chuckled again, unsure of what else to say. inwardly, you berated yourself again- why was it so difficult speaking with him? “sorry..if i got you in trouble the other day.”

he was quick to brush off your apology, shaking his head. “don’t worry about it. you didn’t know.”

you nodded stiffly. of course, you had no way of knowing for certain that jihoon would burst through the door.. but you had your suspicions. as you always did. “you didn’t..get in too much trouble with him, did you?”

“oh. no, don’t even worry about it,” he waved his hand dismissively, snickering soon after. “even jihoon can’t stay mad at me for that long. everything’s fine, i promise.”

you smiled to yourself; honestly, you weren’t sure how anyone could stay mad at soonyoung for too long. not that you would voice that out loud.. “well..i’m glad to hear it.” a sigh fell from your lips before you looked down at your lap and began to tug at a loose thread on your skirt. you needed a new dress, that much was for certain.. but the last thing you wanted was to risk misplacing any funds you worked so hard for.

soonyoung smiled to himself, his gaze shifting to your hands. he soon remembered how it felt holding onto them and wished he could pluck up the courage to take them in his own. instead, he let his arms relax lazily by his sides as he watched you play with the threads of your worn dress. “i have a proposition for you.”

you lifted up your chin to meet his gaze, finding his lips too close to your own for comfort. “and what would that be?” 

he made no effort to break away from you, however, clearly enjoying the nonexistent space between the two of you. hope rang throughout his voice as he beamed, clearly trying to contain his excitement, “there’s a fair coming to town once the snow melts. we should go together.”       

for a moment, your heart swelled upon hearing his invitation. an outing with soonyoung, after far too much time apart, sounded absolutely heavenly. then..why were you hesitating? “oh..soonyoung-” you paused, prompting the man to the edge of his seat, so to speak. you hated to shut him down, even with such a gentle tone, “i’m..not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“why ever not?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed as his voice laced with sympathy. clearly, he wasn’t taking much offense by your words; in fact, it seemed more like he was saddened by the melancholy within your own voice. 

“i-” you started, swallowing heavily. “i just don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.”  

he laughed, albeit a bit sadly. but he continued, “how do you mean?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, your heart shattering as you struggled to grapple with the gravity of your own words. you kept your tone low, afraid of executing them terribly, “it’s just..you’re a courtier. i’m a servant. we..shouldn’t even be in the same room together, unless-” you stopped yourself, hoping he could deduce the rest.

“but we’re friends!” he stated, hoping to cheer you up with his familiar crooked smile. “we have been for a long time. i don’t think status should change that.”

“yes, but-” you paused, once again staring down at your lap in embarrassment. even if it was soonyoung staring at the small holes forming in your skirt, you were horrified. especially when he was the spitting image of royalty sitting next to you. “none of them know that.”

“do you want me to tell them?” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. 

you chuckled, much to your own dismay, and briefly decided to humor him. “if you really want to.”

“i do.” after finally finding the courage within himself, he carefully lifted your hand off your knee in favor of grasping gently onto your palm. he allowed your joined hands to rest near his own knee, allowing you one more feel for his achingly soft robes.. “i want everyone to know how important you are to me.”

your heart fluttered upon hearing his words. he knew all the right words to say to make you feel flustered, discomposed, even, years later. “actually-” you started, your chest already stiffening with the difficult confession. “i think.. i think it would be better if-”

“shhh…” he snickered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. as much as you fought it, you couldn’t prevent a smile from twisting at your lips. “can we just- forget about all of them for a moment?”

“very well,” you sighed in defeat, allowing yourself to rest your head upon his shoulder. in less than a breath, his cheek rested gently upon the top of your head and his eyes were shut. you wished you were able to relax as quickly as he could; your chest felt stiff and your eyes refused to shut completely for even a moment. you remembered all too well how sick you felt when jihoon walked in on your perfectly innocent encounter..

you envied soonyoung, for he seemed to forget all about the negative and scary aspects of it. he focused only on the way you made him feel, the way you brought him comfort when he needed it the most. he didn’t seem fazed by the fact someone could walk out there at any given moment. but that was how the two of you had always been: soonyoung, zestful and fearless, and you, quiet and level-headed.

the clouds darkened above the two of you, but neither of you stirred. it felt melancholic, the way the two of you sat underneath the storming sky in quiet and unbothered contemplation. even when the snow began to fall, soonyoung only snickered and tilted his head up towards the sky again. “i’ve missed the snow.”  

“me too,” you admitted. “i remember when we’d go ice skating-”

“and make snow angels,” he finished, excitement filling his tone one more as he lifted his head from yours. 

you lifted your head from his shoulder, your eyes soon finding his. “i can’t believe you remembered that.” 

“of course i remembered,” he snickered. “i remembered everything.” once again, the fact that he could laugh as if he hadn’t delivered one of the most beautiful, heartfelt sentiments just moments before astounded you. “i remember your snow angels were always so much more beautiful than mine. somehow.” 

you nodded, returning the quiet laugh, “there’s a technique to it.”

“and yet you never taught it to me.”

“there’s still time,” you whispered, unable and unwilling to hold yourself back from doing so. you knew better than to feel so hopeful..still. whether it was to reassure yourself or soonyoung, you weren’t entirely sure. but you tried to stop overthinking it the moment you saw the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

the delicate snowflakes fell in such a beautiful coordinated dance around the two of you. one fell on his shoulder, allowing you a peek of the crystalized detailing before it melted away. soonyoung laughed softly in amusement as they fell into your hair, nearly covering the strands before promptly dissolving. you snickered as the powdery flakes gave his messy hair the same treatment and moved a timid hand to brush some of them away. 

he moved a hand to cup your shoulder, making no attempt to swat your hand away from his hair, however. neither of you spoke, staring helplessly at each other through the peaceful snowfall. he leaned in slowly, you did the same, and before you could catch your breath his lips were on yours. he was gentle but assertive. he kissed you with confidence; he knew what he’d wanted from the moment he reunited with you. and of course, you moved your lips with his in a softspoken but self-assured dance. suddenly it was as if all of your worries and hesitancy had melted away.

you were the first to pull away, your lips only a breath away from his once you found the courage to do so. there was so much you wanted to tell him about how you’d missed him terribly, how you never truly forgot about the way he made you feel.. yet it all remained on the tip of your tongue.

he opted to speak first, sliding his palm to rest upon the back of your neck and play with any strand of hair he could reach. “as you may have already guessed..” he started, chuckling in disbelief; there was no way this wasn’t a dream. “i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

he must have noticed your confusion, the way your eyebrows briefly knitted together, for he merely beamed. “it’s barely been a few days,” you spoke in your overfamiliar rational tone. 

“you know what i mean.” he scrunched up his nose, effectively pulling another small laugh from your lips. “ever since i left so long ago. i wish i could’ve snuck you in one of my suitcases.”

you snickered, briefly bowing your head. the thought had crossed your mind multiple times, in a sense. “i’ve missed you too,” you spoke lowly, though you wished you could speak as freely as soonyoung had always been able to. “so so much.”

“well…” with his index finger placed delicately underneath your chin, he silently prompted you to face him. you thought it was perhaps the most you’d ever seen soonyoung act so..reserved. “i don’t know about you, but i plan on making the most of our time together.”

once again, you were met with the visceral feeling of your hesitancy melting away. you nodded in agreement, “great minds really do think alike.” before he could let out a full laugh, your lips were on his. this kiss was much different from the last, the two of you pouring out every sentiment and emotion you’d been forced to keep to yourself for too long. the secrecy remained..but at least the two of you could revel in it together. 

he chased your lips in desperation, trying his best not to let his smile grow too wide and disrupt the kiss. after stealing a few more quick pecks he pulled away to smile fondly towards you and allow you to catch your breath. in that moment when your eyes met, soonyoung’s completely dazed and flushed, you realized…you were completely and utterly fucked.

—--------------------

you were assigned to work with seulgi the night of the impromptu dinner party, waiting near the furthest wall should any of the attendees need anything else. the two of you stood with your hands folded in front of you, staring straight ahead with neutral expressions. it was difficult not to eavesdrop on the conversation playing out in front of you while pretending to be unbothered. something about land management, storage methods for the winter.. 

of course, it was all lost on you every time your gaze landed on soonyoung. you could tell, even from afar, that he was doing his best to focus on the task at hand..whatever that may be. only every now and then would he steal a quick, unnoticeable glance towards the back of the room and send you a smile that barely reached his eyes. you were proud of him, all things considered.  

the weeks that passed by were possibly the happiest of your life. stolen glances in the hallway, secret kisses in hidden corridors of the castle, a few handwritten notes stuffed under your bedroom door.. it was beautiful. it was terribly romantic. every moment you spent apart from him, you found yourself counting down the seconds until you could see him again.   

you told no one about your secret courtship, not even seulgi. soonyoung kept the secret too, even if he was reluctant to do so. he felt so giddy, so lightheaded every time he saw you.. he had to tell someone about it. anyone. but..your comfort was more important to him. it seemed like a fair sacrifice to make. 

seulgi eventually leaned closer to you and whispered, “what do you suppose any of this means?”     

“no idea,” you chuckled under your breath. even if whatever they were talking about did concern you, which it didn’t, you couldn’t bother to focus your attention on anything else but the raven-haired man across the room. he felt so close, yet so far. you craved a moment alone with him…

“i’m surprised gahyun’s not here,” seulgi whispered, once again pulling you out of your love-struck daze. however, you nodded all the same, under the guise of being invested in the conversation with her. “i bet she’s exhausted. she works so hard; she barely gets any sleep.”

you nodded before confessing lowly, “i feel guilty. and i’m not sure why.”

seulgi shrugged, staring mindlessly at the table straight ahead. “you shouldn’t. she’s been watching over the queen for a few years now.. i’m not so sure why she’s so highly strung about it.”

“i wouldn’t say she’s highly strung,” you countered lowly and tilted your chin towards the floor to avoid soonyoung’s gaze. you tried to bite back a smile, hiding it from seulgi and anyone else that may have looked over towards you. 

“you know i mean well.”

the two of you fell silent for the entirety of the party and eventually, the attendees rose to their feet and collectively began to depart from the room. soonyoung lingered in the room for a moment, his intense gaze finding yours as he expertly slipped a piece of paper under his plate. he practically skipped away to join his colleagues, leaving you and seulgi to clean up after them.

you quickly opted to clean the side of the table soonyoung had been sitting on. once your friend was properly distracted, muttering to herself about how late it was, you grabbed the tiny piece of paper and slipped it into your pocket. “at least they cleaned after themselves decently enough,” you chimed in. 

“decently enough, at least,” she repeated your words with a snicker before leading you to the kitchen. the tiny slip of paper buried within your apron felt like a rock, weighing down on you and serving as a constant reminder of who you were dying to see. as if yearning for a moment with him alone wasn’t enough, now the curiosity of what he’d written was eating you alive. 

the two of you had worked together long enough to find a steady rhythm, finishing the dishes in a timely manner. and when her back was turned and she placed the last few stacks in the cupboards, you stole a quick look at the note soonyoung had given you, which read: “meet me in your room tonight. i’ll be waiting. <3” 

the two of you walked down the hall in silence, as not to disturb any of the other servants. you were grateful that at the very least, seulgi slept at the opposite end of the hallway from you. after the two of you finally shared your goodnights, you slipped through the tiny crack in your bedroom door, for fear of anyone seeing the unwelcomed figure in your private quarters.

you smiled brightly as you locked the door behind you and greeted the man sitting politely on your bed with a quiet laugh. “sorry,” you whispered. “cleaning took a bit longer than expected.”

“don’t worry about it.” he rose to his feet, allowing you a closer look at the three boxes stacked upon your bed. three plain, clean boxes, two large and one small. before you could ask him about them, he stood before you with his hands practically glued to your waist and pressed his lips onto yours in a quick but passionate kiss. he chuckled into your mouth, “god, that was torture.”  

you chuckled soon after, your own timid hands soon finding purchase near the collar of his dress shirt. “tell me about it.” you chased his lips with your own when he laughed a little too loudly for comfort, even during his best efforts to keep his voice down. but you, grinning dumbly, couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. “shhh.” 

your efforts to shut him up proved to be successful. soon after he let out a low hum, he got lost in the slow, deep kiss you shared and carefully slid his hands up your body until they rested upon your jawline. his lips molded with yours until he remembered what was laying on the bed and broke the kiss, excitement in his eyes. “i got you some presents.”

“i can see that.” the two of you had grown accustomed to whispering during any time you had together. it had become almost an intimate, personal language only the two of you spoke, even if it was difficult, more often than not, for soonyoung not to raise his voice another octave. “what are they?” 

“why don’t you open them and find out?” soonyoung snickered, the sound briefly startling you, and he took both of your hands in his before prompting you to sit alongside him on the bed. he beamed, unable to contain his excitement (or his secrets, for that matter), before grabbing the box on the bottom of the pile and placing it in your lap. 

you smiled to yourself, biting back a chuckle, before lifting the lid off of the box as quietly as you were able. the rustling of the parchment paper made you cringe inwardly, soon being replaced by an unmistakable warmth within your heart. a plain brown dress was folded neatly underneath thin, wrinkled paper- probably one of the most comfortable-looking dresses you’d seen in your life.

“you needed a new uniform,” he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. he smiled with beautiful sentimentality once you looked over to him, an incredulous look in your eyes. he lowered his tone again, “that’s nothing. look in the other ones.”

after pushing the opened box aside, soonyoung picked up the other large one and promptly placed it in your lap. you were more cautious opening this one, making sure the parchment paper didn’t crinkle so loudly this time. another dress was folded carefully inside, this one a beautiful cream color with tiny black flowers stitched into the fabric. 

“for the fair,” he explained again before linking his arm around your waist. his hold was firm, confident.. but gentle as always. “i hope you have a good coat, by the way.”

you chuckled, ignoring the hesitance to the best of your ability and pushing it to the back of your mind. the two of you could figure out the logistics of a public outing later. “i have one.. it’s decent enough,” you whispered. 

“good,” he chuckled, his chin resting atop your shoulder. you felt him smile even brighter, his furthest hand squeezing your hip. “c’mon, open the next one. this one’s the best.” you chuckled helplessly upon realizing that outwardly, at least, the man appeared to be far more excited about the gifts than you were. 

within the smallest box lay a pair of brand new ice skates, the sharp blades shining brightly in the moonlight. you pressed a hand to your chest upon feeling a distinct sort of aching.. your heart felt heavy with adoration and gratitude. for a moment, you could only stare at the skates in awe. “you..you…”

soonyoung paused, as if to hear you out. try as you might, you could barely muster anything beyond a quiet yet heartfelt expression of gratitude. he wrapped his other arm around your center, pulling you in for a tight embrace. “i have to go on this..excursion for the court. it’s a whole ordeal. i thought you could come with me. we could stop by the lake, it should still be frozen over.”

the more soonyoung spoke, the more he tugged feverishly at your heartstrings. your heart nearly lept out of your chest at the thought of running away with him, even for just a day or two. “i.. i still have so many chores to catch up on-” you admitted lowly, avoiding his gaze. you hated to see him upset, especially knowing your words had any part in it. 

but soonyoung was nothing if not persistent. he wrapped his arms even tighter around your figure, nearly enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. not that you would ever protest, of course. “i’ll make it worth your while, i swear. i can tell sangyeon you’re sick. i can help you complete your chores this weekend.”

“soonyoung-”

“come on, we can cross that bridge when we get to it,” he pleaded, fighting everything inside him telling him to raise his voice. “please?”

you knew it was a terrible idea. if anyone saw you leaving the palace at the same time.. they would most definitely be able to draw conclusions on their own. it was already risky taking time off for yourself; asking for the day off was never really a simple ordeal. but the look in soonyoung’s eyes, his piercing, expressive eyes, was almost enough to assure you things would work in both your and his favor. 

we can cross that bridge when we get to it. 

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, doing your best to hug him with as much compression and strength as you could muster. he quickly returned the favor, having to silence his laughs by giggling into the area where your neck and shoulder met. “i know you’ll make it worth my while,” you told him once he’d calmed down. 

“is that a yes?” he perked up, lifting his chin to look in your eyes, as if the answer lay within your irises.

“...it’s not a no.”

he smiled breathlessly before leaning in to kiss you again. and again. and again.. every time his lips met yours, you could feel his need. his gentle insistence. it never failed to bring a smile to your lips; something about the way he kissed you and muttered sweet nothings was so addicting. “thank you,” he paused his pecks, whispering. “thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet,” you chuckled against his lips, soon placing your palm flat on his chest. “now you must go, or you’ll be late for your meeting in the morning.” 

soonyoung’s face coiled and you knew he wanted to groan out his protest. loudly, at that. “i wish i could just sleep in here. your bed’s so comfortable.”

you snickered, knowing your mattress was probably the last surface anyone would want to spend the night on, if they could help it. it was firm, tough, and it barely offered any comfort after a restless day. just another testament to soonyoung’s unfailing kindness towards you. “i know. but won’t it raise some eyebrows? a courtier sneaking out of the servant hall early in the morning?” 

he frowned, his nose scrunching up at the movement. “why do you always have to be so wise?”

“i ask myself the same thing everyday.” you cupped both of his cheeks, pressing a firm kiss against his lips before reluctantly moving off the bed. soonyoung followed, his eyes glued to you as he silently followed you towards the door.

“until tomorrow,” he sighed, disappointment etched within his features.

“you can spend a few hours without me,” you whispered in his ear once he’d brought you in for another warm embrace. your arms inevitably found their way around his neck as you clung onto him like your life depended on it. 

“no i can’tttt.” you snickered at the way soonyoung managed to whine in such a low tone. “it’s torturous. i wish you could just come everywhere with me.”

you sighed, “i know.” another chuckle fell from your lips once your chin fell upon his shoulder, this one somewhat sadder than the last. as much as your secret meetings, whispered conversations and forbidden kisses excited you, more often than not, you wished it was simpler between the two of you. part of it was so exhausting... “go on. you need your sleep.” 

reluctantly, soonyoung broke out of the embrace to cup your chin between his thumb and index finger. “very well. i’ll leave a word with sangyeon first thing in the morning.” 

“wh-” before you could formulate your question, soonyoung pressed his lips against yours in a hasty kiss and promptly rushed out the door. you stood dumbfounded, but lovestruck, all the same. 

soonyoung, however, felt as if a beauty symphony rang throughout the hallway. he smiled dumbly to himself, scarcely managing to keep his wits about him as he hurried out of the servants’ corridor. he held his chin high, for with the dreaded feeling of your absence came the excitement of reuniting with you.

now just how could he steal sangyeon away from his work and…

“soonyoung.” a voice, much too smooth and calculated, sounded once he’d reached the end of the hallway. his heart fell to his stomach and he could have sworn that his soul left his body once jihoon stood before him, appearing to be alarmingly..calm. 

“good god, jihoon, what the hell was that for?” he demanded, clutching at his dress shirt. his fist dragged along his own chest in circular motions, a vain attempt at soothing his racing heart.

jihoon barely flinched upon hearing his otherwise startling tone. “i know what you’re doing,” he stated somewhat matter-of-factly. 

just then, soonyoung felt the blood drain from his face, most likely following the path of his heavy heart, as he jumped to the worst possible conclusion. he gulped, “you..you do?” as jihoon seemingly paused for dramatic effect, he had to ask himself how it was possible for things to take such an intense turn from perfection in such a short amount of time.

suddenly jihoon nodded and soonyoung wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved that he was finally speaking up. “yes, i do.” he crossed in front of him, his arms folded tight across his chest. “you’ve been shirking your duties. why is that, i wonder?”

soonyoung looked past the man’s shoulder and surveyed the rest of the main floor, as if plotting his escape. really, his goal was to avoid eye contact. “it’s..cold. i’ve been trying to gather all the right supplies.”

“are you sure you’re not just trying to prolong the inevitable?” he raised an eyebrow smugly.

he scoffed, “no, i’m just trying to avoid getting hypothermia or pneumonia, thank you very much.”

this time, jihoon took a page out of the older man’s book and took a quick look at their surroundings. the palace was deadly silent; under any other circumstance, soonyoung wouldn’t have found it so eerie. then he spoke in a low tone, “if you play your cards right, you may never have to worry about getting sick ever again.”

soonyoung took a step backwards, nearly stumbling. he wanted to argue. he wanted to counter him with age-old questions, ‘how do you know that?’ or ‘if whatever you’re talking about is so great, why can’t you procure it yourself?’ instead he settled for a stiffened nod and a forced grin, “i’m leaving around noon tomorrow.”

jihoon smiled, though it barely reached his eyes. “good.” 

biting back a sigh of exhaustion, he pushed past jihoon and began to cross to the large exit door. freedom from the darkened hallways and overbearing colleagues was so close he could almost taste it. but when his superior’s cool voice ran through the hall again, calling his name, he screwed his eyes shut. “...yes?”

“you’d do well not to be so negligent from now on.” a pause, as if allowing soonyoung to shake off the chill that had run down his spine. “good night.”

—-----------------

on any other given day, getting out of the palace wouldn’t have been a problem. however, getting out of the palace under the guise of taking a sick day and trying not to be seen with soonyoung was an entirely different story. donned with the warmest dress and largest cloak you owned, you snuck throughout the halls and outside the servant’s entrance, avoiding eye contact with several colleagues in the process. 

you were relieved to see an empty path before you once met with the frigid winter air. soonyoung had given up trying to convince you to meet him near the hidden entrance of the palace once he realized neither of you should be willing to take the risk of being caught. in the distance, however, you could have sworn you saw a string of bright red amidst the snow-covered trees.. his scarf. after a quick, precautionary look behind your shoulder, you were on your way to chase the blur of scarlet.

he stepped out of his less than effective hiding spot the moment he heard the snow crunching at your feet. his cheeks were flushed to a deep shade of red, however, something told you the icy winds had no part in it. “took you long enough,” he teased. “i thought i was gonna freeze to death if i waited a second longer.”

you pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek in favor of an apology. his gloved hands soon found yours and effectively prompted you to walk alongside him. “what are they doing, forcing you to go on an excursion this time of year, anyways?” even in your largest cloak, the cold was so difficult to ignore; you could only hope soonyoung wasn’t suffering as you were.

he shrugged dismissively. “just surveilling some of the unmanaged land around the kingdom.”

“they expect you to examine all of it in a day? in the wintertime, nonetheless?” you asked, visibly confused.  

“well..” he stopped, briefly looking up to the sky in contemplation as if he hadn’t thought that far ahead already. after composing himself, he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “no. i thought we’d go somewhere we already know pretty well, then go back to the palace. just for today. then i’ll make my rounds throughout the week and you don’t have to miss so much work.” 

it was strange, the way he felt the need to over explain himself when speaking with you. the way you saw it, if there was anyone in the palace he could put his full trust in without being disappointed, it was yourself. “alright.. that’s actually not a bad idea.”

you were grateful, at the very least, that soonyoung had procured a horse for the two of you and chose not to ask any question before mounting his saddle. you just hoped that the most difficult part of the journey was over; while the two of you shared the tight space on the saddle, you were allowed to take in the sights around you properly while having a perfect excuse to hold onto soonyoung tightly around the waist. it was the best of both worlds.

majestic couldn’t even begin to describe the open plains of the kingdom during the wintertime. several inches of powdery snow shone in the sunlight, the flakes clung to the trees’ thin branches like lace, the sky was the most beautiful shade of baby blue you’d ever seen in your life.

as much as you would have loved to enjoy your surroundings, you couldn’t exactly sit in silence. “soonyoung?” 

“hmmm?”

“why did you never tell me your uncle was a courtier?” you asked, your hands slightly tensing near his sternum once holding your arms in a fixed position became too trying of a task. 

soonyoung chuckled, as if taken aback by your question. “honestly? i didn’t really find out myself until a few days before we moved,” he explained. “i always knew he came from good money, i just didn’t know where he got it all from. or why my father didn’t have much, for that matter.”

“right..” you nodded, your chin brushing against his shoulder with the brisk movement. 

“but my father was never really the type to sit behind a desk and organize meetings, anyways,” soonyoung continued. “he loved the ocean. any opportunity he could, he joined the royal navy on their voyages. he was..adventurous. bold, daring, zealous-”

“a lot like you,” you chimed in softly.

you watched his cheeks flush with that same shade of tomato red, his eyes falling to the reins he clutched onto tightly. “i’d like to think so. though, i will be the first to admit i don’t want to be anywhere near the ocean.”

“what? you seemed to have no problem ice skating back in the day,” you reminded him.

“oh, come on that’s much different,” soonyoung replied defensively. “for one, the ocean’s a lot more.. restless and boundless than that old river. so much of it hasn’t even been discovered yet.”

“restless and boundless? sounds like someone else i know,” you snickered. “it’s a shame. the two of you would make such a great pair.”

he shook his head, laughing helplessly at this point. “i think you and i both know what i really need is someone who’d keep me even tempered.” you knew without any second guessing who he was referring to. he spoke so effortlessly, so casually, you would have thought he was talking about something as mundane as the weather. even so, his words ignited a fire within your heart that nearly made you forget about the cold entirely.

you played off your bashfulness with a chuckle, watching a cloud of smoke escape from your lips as a result. “i suppose you’re right. even if there is really no use in trying to settle you down.” 

soonyoung pouted but didn’t argue, instead opting for changing the subject. “what about you? how did you come to work at the palace?”    

you paused. after a few years in the palace, it felt as if you’d been there your entire life and it was impossible, pointless even, to recall your life beforehand. “well.. you remember when my father went on that excursion of his,” you chuckled in annoyance. “he promised he’d come back rich, even though we were living quite comfortably. well.. he still hasn’t returned home. we ran out of the money he’d left for us, but he did leave us with plenty of debt. my mother was taken away to the debtors’ prison and i was left to search for work and boarding until i ended up at the palace, by some miracle.”

soonyoung didn’t even try to hide his shock, or his disdain for that matter. “what??” he almost shrieked. he patted your wrist after feeling you jump behind him, a temporary apology. “i don’t know what to say. that’s one of the worst things i’ve ever heard, i’m so sorry.”

you shrugged. “i’ve made my peace with it by now.”

“you shouldn’t have to, though,” he countered. “i can easily pay your father’s debts off for you. she shouldn’t have to live in a cell for the rest of her life just because-” he stopped himself before he could risk hitting a nerve. 

just because her husband was a lowlife? “we appreciate that. but we won’t accept any charity.” much to your surprise, soonyoung didn’t press you any further on the matter. 

neither of you were expecting to arrive to your main destination so quickly. you were definitely not expecting to arrive at, the large river you’d grown quite familiar with as a child, of all places. the fact that it looked exactly the same, even years later, left you feeling awe struck. your jaw remained agape even when dismounting the horse.

“it’s- so-” you started, sounding absolutely stupid. not that you cared, seeing that the twisting body of frozen water lay before you, mountains of snow and frostbitten trees surrounding it. it felt so incredibly peaceful. it felt like your shared sanctuary. 

soonyoung chuckled and ensured his dark horse was securely but loosely tied to a nearby tree. he then reached into his satchel, pulling out two matching pairs of ice skates and effectively earning a snicker from you. “i have my ways,” he shrugged, answering the question on the tip of your tongue. 

tying your straps and ensuring the blades were secure felt like a blur. the two of you waddled towards the edge of the river, staying too close to the snow for soonyoung’s liking. he squeezed your hand in silent encouragement, “how are you feeling? balanced?” 

you held on tighter to his hand, staring down at your feet moving back and forth in choppy motions. “um.. sort of?”

“good.” after securing his tight grip on your hand once more, soonyoung kicked his right foot and the two of you were off. your shriek echoed throughout the cold air as you held onto him for dear life, stumbling on the frosty surface. “see? you’ve still got it!” 

you laughed once he pulled you into a sharp turn near a winding corner, the abrupt movement startling you enough to hold onto him tighter. “hardly!” even as warm nostalgia flooded through your veins and motivated you enough to match his movements, soonyoung’s work agenda remained in the back of your mind. “i don’t see what this has to do wi-”   

you shrieked again once he paused his movements just enough to let go of your hand without making you fall down completely. for a moment you stood alone, dumbfounded and wobbly, watching him glide in front of you with such practiced ease. “come on, it’s not getting any colder!” he yelled past his shoulder.

“stay near the edges,” you reminded him, though something told you that instruction would go in one ear and out the other. his bright red scarf and large coat appeared as if they would float right off of his figure with how fast he was skating. “very well.” after a moment you finally broke down and pushed after him, arms at your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

soonyoung would soon turn around to face you, moving a little too close to the middle of the water for your own comfort. before you could scold him again, he zipped towards you and grabbed both of your hands, coming to a full stop. “i’m so happy here with you,” he said breathlessly. “thank you.”

you held tightly to his hands even if you were slowly finding your balance. “whatever for?”

“for always humoring me.” with that, he closed the space between the two of you in favor of kissing you gently. the two of you presented a gentle smile in unison and soonyoung was the one to break away. “it can’t be easy.”

you paused, unsure whether to confirm or deny his statement. the truth was.. soonyoung provided the excitement and laughter in your life that you’d seemed to be chasing for much too long. how could you ever hold that against him?  

of course, you wished he would at the very least give you time to formulate a response with more substance than, ‘i don’t mind it so much.’ for he pulled you alongside him down the winding path, opting for a smoother pace this time around. four blades glide against the shining ice in a beautiful, casual air while the two of you remained hand in hand. 

“are you sure they’ll approve of you taking a turn around the lake like this?” you finally asked.

“definitely not,” he snickered. “but they don’t need to know. it’ll be our little secret.”

you sighed, a sarcastic air within the little cloud of smoke near your lips. “so many secrets.”

you don’t know the half of it. before soonyoung could offer an assuring remark, he looked towards the previously proclaimed forbidden spot on the lake. most of the surface was gray, misty almost.. but there was a distinct glow of light blue almost directly in the center of the streambed. suddenly he remembered.. “oh-” 

“soonyoung, don’t-” you voiced your protest to no avail. he dropped your hand in favor of inching closer and closer towards the magnetizing center floor. 

“it’s fine, y/n,” he chuckled without turning back to face you. instead he tried not to focus too much on how the ice was much thinner where he was standing, allowing him a closer look at the blue rocks deep deep below the surface. “come on, you used to love it over here.”

“back when we were a lot smaller,” you countered, now feeling antsy as you lingered near the lake’s edge. 

he snickered with a dismissive wave of your hand, nearly making your blood boil in frustration. he ignored you otherwise, bending down ever so slightly to get a closer look.. and then he realized, everything hitting him all at once..

“soonyoung-”

“that’s why they all looked so familiar,” he muttered to himself, his mind racing. no, it had to be too good to be true. his very first stop, he came across the object he’d been sent to procure. how could it be possible that the moonstones were directly in front of him his entire life, just barely out of reach..

was it fate? destiny?

“soonyoung, come on. snap out of it-”

he didn’t even hear the crack before he fell into the water. across the river, however, it sounded like thunder. you reacted immediately, rushing towards the broken ice without a second thought. you couldn’t scream. you couldn’t speak. you could barely even breath as you grabbed onto both of his arms, feeling the thinning ice settle underneath you.

but you didn’t give up. soonyoung did what he could to push himself out of the water, holding onto your arms for dear life. neither of you spoke a word, both of your panicked breaths speaking for themselves. inwardly, you were cursing, pleading with him.. he must have known from the moment his eyes found yours.

once he reached the surface, his entire figure drenched in ice cold water, you promptly dragged him off of the ice entirely. he shivered violently, clinging to any ounce of warmth you could offer him, “y/n-”

“god, you’re so so stupid,” you cut him off with a broken sob, your hands cupping both of his achingly cold cheeks. “how could you do something like that?! you know better, i know you do!”

he held onto you tighter, chasing your warmth. chasing your comfort, especially once you threw off your overcoat and draped it over his shoulders. “i know, i-”

“you’re so fucking stupid,” you cried and threw your arms around his shoulders, effectively trapping him in your embrace. tears fell down your cheeks as the loud crack echoed in your mind again and again, nearly encouraging you to scream at the top of your lungs. “are you alright?? god, tell me you’re alright-”

“i’m fine,” he spoke in shuddered breaths, now clinging onto you as if to take every last breath away. he chased every fleeting hint of warmth your lips brought to his skin as you kissed his cheek, again and again. “i’m fine. i’m sorry. i’m sorry..”

for a moment, you could only cry quietly into his wet shoulder and search desperately for comfort within the sound of his steadying heartbeat. the thought of losing him again was unbearable, you’d always known that, but after nearing the possibility.. “what was that for?” 

“it-” he paused with a sheepish expression. “it’s a long story-”

—---------

making the journey back towards the palace in soonyoung’s condition was not an option, at least the two of you could agree on that. hence why the two of you sat in a dimly lit room in the inn, wearing borrowed clothes and hugging each other tightly under the covers as night fell. your eyes, filled with gentle insistence, searched his for any reasonable explanation for his failed logic. 

“why would you do something like that?” you asked, your tone low but persistent. “you could have drowned if i wasn’t there. all for some rocks?” 

he drew in a sigh and you felt his sternum rise before falling against yours, reminding you of just how close you were laying together. “you have to swear not to tell anyone. and i mean anyone.”

“of course,” you agreed; after all, what was one more secret?

“they’re not just some rocks. jihoon believes those stones possess magic of some kind. he sent me to find them and bring them back to the palace. without telling jeonghan.” as he spoke, his voice remained avoidant, almost sheepish. you would have almost found it comical.

“..what?” there was always an unsettling anxiety that came with the fact that you never really knew what went on behind closed doors. you had placed your faith in jeonghan since the day of his coronation; he seemed to advocate for all of the right things.. but your stomach did somersaults with the newfound knowledge that he didn’t have all the power you might have thought he did. “that’s…so..so wrong. how could he make you do that?”

“no idea,” he replied hastily. “he’s changed. i don’t like being around him. i understand that it can’t be easy ruling a kingdom but i don’t know.”

you nodded, settling comfortably in the crook of his neck. much to your relief, he was finally starting to warm up. “what are you going to do?” 

“no idea,” he repeated. “i can’t tell jeonghan what’s going on because jihoon’ll get mad and have me removed from the court. i can’t keep it a secret, jeonghan could have everyone removed and most likely banished. i definitely can’t fish the rocks out of the stream right now; the water probably froze back over tonight and who knows how deep the water is, anyways. and.. i just can’t believe they’ve been right in front of my face this whole time.”

you listened to his ramblings without interrupting, keeping a comforting hold on his shoulder as he spoke. “you’re worried about jihoon being mad at you?” you asked, your words slightly muffled against his neck. 

“hmm?” 

“i’m just saying-” you pulled away, falling back against the pillow to properly meet his gaze. “i think there’s a lot more at stake than someone’s feelings towards you.”

soonyoung’s lips fell apart, at a loss for words. “well, i know that, but- it’s complicated. jihoon’s not just my superior, he’s my friend. i can’t lose him just because of a disagreement.”

“but it’s not just a disagreement,” you countered. “he’s going behind the king’s back. he doesn’t know what he’s getting into with these powers, and i think he’s being a little hypocritical-”

“well, yeah, he’s not perfect,” he interrupted and broke out of your embrace, sitting upright. immediately feeling affected by the loss of the blankets, he tugged the fabric of the borrowed dress robes closer to his figure. “but he’s..it’s all just..” he paused, trying to compose all of his thoughts. “it’s really complicated. you wouldn’t understand.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “why wouldn’t i understand?” you mirrored his position, sitting upright and propping yourself up by your left hand to face him properly. 

visibly, soonyoung regretted his words. “well.. because-”

“because i’m just some lowly servant?” you finished for him, your voice gentle even as you scolded him. “because i’m so simple and unassuming compared to the rest of your friends?” 

soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows, pausing abruptly and welcoming the palpable tension. “what are you talking about? where did that come from?” 

you scoffed, the pitiful laugh barely audible. “you know it's the truth.”

“no, it’s not.” 

“why we have to sneak around, why we can’t talk outside my bedroom,” you continued. “why we can’t even be caught looking at each other.”

the confusion and hurt was visible within soonyoung’s features. he kept his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, continuing, “you think i prefer to sneak around with you? well, i don’t! i hate it! i hate it. you have no idea how much i wish you could come to all of these stupid balls and dinner parties with me. if you don’t want to, i understand, but you won’t even try!” 

“i hate it too!” you exclaimed. “but we’re not kids anymore!”

“you think i don’t know that??”

“sometimes, yes!” soonyoung froze and you immediately regretted allowing the words to leave your mouth. you parted your lips, lost for a proper apology, and watched him slowly rise to his feet. “soonyoung, wait-”

he ignored you, pushing past the bed leaving the room with a gentle slam of the door. your words were ingrained in his mind, your delivery, the look in your eyes.. all of it. it hurt. it hurt so terribly, coming face to face with the notion that things between the two of you had just changed too much.

he kept walking and walking until his slippers were met with the powdery snow, his cheeks burning from the frigid winds. but he would not return to you until his mind was clear, he owed you that much. he, too, could be level headed. or so he thought.

for when he eventually found his way back to the river, the familiar heavenly glow was gone and panic settled within his heart. someone had taken the stones.

—---------

as expected, the journey back to the palace was terribly awkward. it didn’t help that neither of you had never been particularly talkative in the mornings and both of you opted to leave promptly at sunrise. your hold around his waist was much looser this time around as you did what you could to give him space on the shared saddle. it was horrible. 

the two of you shared a half-hearted farewell before parting ways in the castle. you carried your belongings to the servants’ quarters while trying to be as inconspicuous as possible and soonyoung made a beeline for the great hall. thankfully, no one spotted the two of you together.

you were startled to see seulgi standing in your bedroom the moment you pushed the door open, however. you bit back a shriek, nearly dropping all of your clothes. “seulgi? why aren’t you working?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” she countered, her lips twisting into a teasing smirk. “you never take a day off. what’s going on?” 

“nothing,” you stated and hurriedly began to hang up your damp clothing. “i was just feeling a little suffocated in the palace, is all.”

“i don’t blame you,” she sighed before helping you search for your uniform. “yesterday i thought about following you out the door and running far away. the king’s planning an impromptu party for tomorrow night.” 

“tomorrow night?” you sighed, slapping your palm over your forehead. maybe you should have asked for another day off, after all. “maybe you’re right. maybe he and the queen are celebrating something.” which only made the news you’d pulled out of soonyoung all the more heartbreaking.

speaking of which, soonyoung was surprised to see he was the first man to arrive inside the courtroom after jihoon. he had never been this early, even if he could have helped it. he found his assigned seat, trying to avoid eye contact with the other man and failing terribly. 

“you’re back earlier than expected,” jihoon said quietly.

he gulped, trying to distract himself with the endless stacks of papers on his desk. your words, ever present in the back of his mind, tugged at his heartstrings and proved impossible to ignore. in a shaky tone, he lied with such apparent impulse, “my horse slipped a shoe.” 

jihoon stared daggers at the other man, who he could read like a book at this point. not that soonyoung made much of an effort to hide anything particularly well. “sorry to hear that,” jihoon finally sighed. “hopefully you’ll be back on the road in a timely manner.”

“oh yes, hopefully.” 

soonyoung found himself praising god or whomever once mingyu and wonwoo burst through the doors. the others soon followed, providing him with a temporary sense of relief whether they realized it or not. still.. he spent the rest of the meeting doing what he could to avoid eye contact with jihoon and push your harsh words out of his mind completely.

—------------

it was no surprise that the dress your best friend had purchased for you was more comfortable than anything else you owned. even a simple frock that served as a formal enough uniform for the party seemed to encourage you to curl up in a ball and fall asleep near the fireplace. instead, you were tasked with carrying the tray of champagne flutes around the ballroom. 

for a moment, he was nowhere to be found. you wanted to thank him, tell him how much warmer it was than your last one, but those words seemed forced to remain at the tip of your tongue for the time being. 

“new dress?” seulgi’s voice from behind you remained low and somewhat neutral. 

you nodded, carefully turning around and avoiding several shoulders to face her. “yes. does it look alright?”

“it looks more like you should be wearing it out to a restaurant,” she chuckled. “where did you find it?”

you paused, soonyoung’s name at the tip of your tongue and the center of your mind, as always. you pushed the thought of him away, as always, to the best of your ability. “just..someplace in town. i’ll have to take you there one of these days.”

“please do.”

the two of you seulgi promptly left your side to continue her rounds. at the very least, you were grateful your performance had been put on a pause for the time being. well, until you had to go to the kitchen to replace your empty glasses. you shuffled down the stairs with bowed shoulders, forcing your eyes shut and then wide open in an effort to wake yourself up. whether the exhaustion was entirely emotional or physical was up for debate.

after your tray became about five times heavier, you forced yourselves up the stairs once more. once you reached the top step, however, the energy shifted and you weren’t entirely sure why. that was, until you finally got a clear enough glance at two familiar faces in the corner of the room, standing in a small circle with jeonghan and the queen. 

“it’s the princess,” a stranger behind you whispered incredulously. “she’s finally here again, i can’t believe it-”

and joshua. 

but what did this mean? were they permitted to live in the palace again or were they just visiting? did they somehow know about soonyoung’s conundrum? where was that man, anyways..

the room suddenly felt stuffy, even more crowded. you had spotted every member of the royal court you recognized except for soonyoung. it was an unfortunate habit of yours, assuming the worst, but you couldn’t really help it. settling for the first empty surface you spotted, you set your tray down rather hastily and cautiously pushed the balcony doors open.

once you came to ignore the bitterly cold air, you stepped to the balcony’s edge and let your hands rest upon the snow-covered railing. you’d never wished so desperately for spring to come before. lately, in the palace, it seemed as if there was something unexpected at every turn of the hallway. 

a faint click behind you prompted the hair near the back of your neck to rise. “sorry, i just needed a minute-” 

“it’s me.”  

before you could fully turn around, soonyoung was at your side. he wore a dark shade of red that reminded you of the wine you’d always wanted to try, his dark hair fanned over his eyes in little wisps.. you so desperately wanted to reach a hand to brush through it. his smile grew once he got a closer look at the dress you were wearing and his eyes remained respectively locked on your figure, as if to memorize how it looked on you. 

“did you see joshua’s back? and the princess?” you asked quietly, unsure of what else to say.

“i did,” he nodded, letting his hands drape over the railing next to yours. “no one really knows what it means. rumor has it jeonghan’s letting them stay here again.”

“i bet his father is thrilled.” you paused, absorbing the tense, cold silence. then you bowed your head, staring at the dark carriages lined up in front of the palace. a few footmen remained outside, as if to surveille the precious machinery, but they all seemed to blur before your eyes. “i’m sorry- i shouldn’t have said all those things.”

he paused and you heard him swallow next to you. his eyes remained glued to the ground below, though he couldn’t fully focus on the sight. “we all have to grow up sometime. i didn’t realize how young you were when you were forced to learn for yourself.”

“you too.” you forced your eyes shut, preventing a single tear from surfacing. “but i could..i could try to live a little.”

he shook his head sternly. “i never wanted to force you to do something you didn’t want to,” he whispered and brought his hand to your cheek in an effort to get a better look at your eyes. they shone in the moonlight, glossed with a few distant tears which he was ready to wipe away. “i think there’s something beautiful about loving you in secret, actually.”

that was it. there was no comedic edge to his words, no short chuckle followed.. just pure vulnerability. “really?” 

“you see parts of me no one else does,” he whispered while tracing patterns against your cheek with his thumb. “i can’t trust anyone else the way i trust you.” 

once again, you were at a loss for words and cursed inwardly for feeling that the gift of words of affirmation merely passed you by. you did, however, lift your hands from the railing in favor of resting them on his chest. his heartbeat echoed through his shirt in gentle time with yours. “is it selfish,” you sighed. “that i want you all to myself?”

he chuckled for the first time that night and your heart nearly melted completely. “i can’t really judge you for that. i feel the same way.”

you smiled from ear to ear, watching your hands slide up towards his shoulders. “soonyoung..can we really continue with this?”

“are you asking if this is what i really want?” he asked, the smallest hint of disbelief. “of course. of course. i just want to know if you’re alright with all of it.”

“of course.” you spoke in the same cadence as him, giving either of his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “even if we have to sneak around and whisper for the rest of our lives.. i love to love you in secret.”

soonyoung allowed less than a second to pass before placing his lips against yours. you quickly chased the feeling, only just then realizing how much you’d missed his passionate, adoring kisses. both of his hands fell to your waist before he tugged you closer in search for your warmth. you, lost for words, poured every emotion you could into your kisses, and he felt as if he could have responded until he was breathless. 

or until he heard footsteps on the other side of the door and pulled away, putting a respectful distance between the two of you. to your shared surprise, it wasn’t jihoon swinging open the doors in a hurried manner. it was jeonghan. 

“your highness!” he beamed. “wh-”

“save it.” jeonghan stood between the two of you, seething in anger. he faced soonyoung, his own jaw clenched so tightly there was no doubt it hurt. “why didn’t you tell me about your mission?”

soonyoung’s throat went dry as he tried to stop his jaw from falling to the floor. “...come again?”

“don’t play dumb,” jeonghan snapped. “i know what he told you to do. i know what he wants.”

stealing a glance past the king’s shoulder, soonyoung looked to you for reassurance. it came in the form of a grin that disappeared as quickly as it surfaced. “i- how do you kn-”

“it doesn’t matter how i know,” jeonghan snapped again, his voice reaching an octave you’ve never heard from the young man. it was alarming, to say the least. it all felt like a dream..or like a horrible nightmare.

“your highness-” you finally stepped in, standing close enough to soonyoung that you wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. you spoke in a calculating yet mediating tone, “if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly brought this on?” 

jeonghan took a step back, staring at the four handprints on the railing where a few more snowflakes had already begun to fall and fill in the space. he forced his eyes shut, his voice slightly strained. “when i heard about what jihoon had been doing behind my back, i thought it must have been a lie. there was no way a respectable man of the royal court, someone who’d been trusted for years, could do something like this.” 

he paused and the two of you held your breath. his hand, hiding behind his back, reached for yours and gave it a firm but hidden squeeze while the two of you prepared for the worst.

“my suspicions were all but confirmed the last time i spoke with him.” the young king chuckled bitterly, finally allowing himself a clearer look at the two of you. “that traitor, though he may look it, is not jihoon.”   

[fioredeciliego]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏

𝐖𝐂: 𝟓.𝟑𝐊

ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, '𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔢

The sky hung heavy with the weight of dusk, streaks of crimson and violet bleeding into the horizon like spilled ink on silk. Beyond the castle walls, the world stretched vast and untamed, but within them—within the grandeur of polished marble and whispered promises—fate was being sealed with quiet certainty.

Seated across from each other in the gilded chamber, Queen Taeyeon and Queen Irene exchanged glances over the candlelit table, the flickering flames carving shadows across their faces. Between them, their wives—Tiffany and Seulgi—sat with softer expressions, their hands resting gently on their laps. The air smelled of aged parchment, spiced wine, and the quiet tension of kingdoms threading their futures together.

“The rivalry has lasted too long,” Taeyeon murmured, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her goblet. She was regal yet relaxed, her voice measured, like a ruler accustomed to commanding but weary of wielding her power unnecessarily. “Our ancestors built walls between us. We should be the ones to tear them down.”

Seulgi nodded, her gaze steady. “We’ve spent generations locked in this conflict, yet neither kingdom has truly won. A ceasefire is not enough; we need something lasting. Something binding.”

Tiffany exhaled slowly, her expression thoughtful as she reached for Taeyeon’s hand, grounding her in the moment. “A union.”

The word lingered, folding itself into the candlelight, into the fabric of the evening, into the fate of two yet-unaware souls.

Irene, quiet until now, finally spoke. “A marriage.”

She was calm, but there was an unspoken weight in her voice, the gravity of a mother setting the course of her child’s life with a single decree. Her fingers curled around the stem of her glass, knuckles paling as she swallowed the moment whole. “My daughter and yours.”

A silence followed, not of hesitation, but of consideration. It was not the first time such an idea had been proposed in the name of diplomacy, yet something about it felt different now. Perhaps because it wasn’t a contract signed in ink, but in the laughter and stubborn defiance of two little girls who did not yet understand what it meant to belong to history.

Taeyeon let out a breath, tilting her head slightly as she regarded Irene. “Minjeong and Y/N.”

The names tasted unfamiliar in this context, as though speaking them aloud was the first step in reshaping their meanings. Not just daughters. Not just princesses. Future. Destiny. A delicate thread weaving through time, connecting what had once been separate.

Seulgi leaned forward, her voice softer now. “Do you think they will hate us for this?”

A quiet chuckle left Tiffany’s lips. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

A moment of levity, but it did not dissolve the weight of the decision being made.

Irene’s fingers pressed together, her nails biting into her palm. “They will grow together. Learn from each other. And perhaps, one day, they will understand.”

Taeyeon’s lips curled slightly, though there was something unreadable in her expression. “Or they will burn everything to the ground in protest.”

Tiffany smiled at that, squeezing her hand. “Either way, they will be unforgettable.”

The candlelight flickered as though it, too, felt the weight of the conversation. A servant entered the chamber in silence, refilling goblets with deep red wine, the scent of crushed berries thick in the air. No one spoke. The gravity of the decision had settled upon them like a heavy cloak, and even the opulence of their surroundings could not lift it.

Seulgi broke the silence first, her voice measured, yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper—concern, perhaps. “We are asking them to shoulder the burdens of generations past. Shouldn’t we at least give them the choice?”

Tiffany’s gaze softened, but her resolve did not waver. “Would you have chosen this life, Seulgi? If given the choice?”

Seulgi hesitated, lips parting as if to respond, but the words did not come immediately. Instead, she let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. “No. But I learned to accept it.”

“And perhaps they will too,” Taeyeon said, swirling the wine in her goblet. “Perhaps, in time, it will be more than duty. Perhaps it will be love.”

Irene glanced toward the high-arched windows, the glass reflecting the fire’s glow. “And if it isn’t?”

The question lingered between them, a specter of doubt threading its way through the certainty they had tried so hard to build. It was a risk. A gamble with their daughters’ futures as the stakes.

Tiffany, always the one to find light even in shadows, reached across the table, her hand resting lightly over Irene’s. “Then at least they will have each other.”

Outside, the wind howled against the stained-glass windows, as if bearing witness to the promise whispered between monarchs. A fate sealed not with love, not yet, but with expectation and duty.

And somewhere, in separate chambers of their respective castles, two little girls slept soundly, unaware that their names had just been bound together in a history far greater than themselves.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The grand hall was alive with the glow of chandeliers and the hum of whispered conversations, yet to Minjeong, it was suffocating. She tugged at the high collar of her formal tunic, the fabric stiff against her neck, the weight of expectation draped over her shoulders heavier than the cloak fastened with an ornate clasp at her chest.

A prince in everything but title and gender—that’s what they called her. And in moments like this, where she was paraded before foreign nobles, where the sharp gaze of her mother, Queen Taeyeon, reminded her of the importance of appearances, Minjeong wondered if she had ever been given a choice in the matter. At seven years old, she had already mastered the art of keeping her thoughts hidden behind a carefully schooled expression.

Her boots echoed against the polished marble as she took a calculated step forward, standing by her parents’ side. The hall was filled with courtiers and envoys, yet her gaze landed on only one figure—small, delicate, adorned in soft pastels that glowed under the candlelight.

Princess Y/N. She was five years old, two years younger than Minjeong, yet she carried herself with a poise beyond her years.

She was impossibly still, hands clasped in front of her, every bit the image of a perfect princess. But as Minjeong took a step closer, she caught the slight downturn of Y/N’s lips, the quiet defiance in the way her chin tilted up ever so slightly.

Minjeong almost smirked. Almost.

Instead, she extended a hand. “Princess.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to her before she hesitantly placed her small hand in Minjeong’s. The contrast was striking—Minjeong’s fingers, calloused from swordplay, against Y/N’s, untouched by battle. Yet there was a firmness in Y/N’s grip that surprised her.

“You don’t look very happy,” Minjeong remarked, voice low enough that only Y/N could hear.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to hers, sharp and assessing. “Neither do you.”

Minjeong let out a short breath of laughter, stepping back slightly but not letting go of her hand just yet. “Then perhaps we are already more alike than we thought.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but before she could speak, Queen Irene’s voice rang out, addressing the gathered nobles. “Tonight marks the beginning of an era of peace, bound by the union of our daughters.”

Minjeong felt Y/N tense beside her. And though she didn’t know why, her grip tightened, just slightly, as if to anchor them both.

The future had been decided for them long before they even knew what it meant. And for the first time, Minjeong wondered if fate had been kind or if it had simply played a cruel joke.

The evening stretched long, filled with ceremonial toasts and hushed conversations behind gilded fans. Minjeong sat at the head table, her plate barely touched, while her eyes flickered towards Y/N, who was seated beside her. She noticed how Y/N pushed her food around, her small fingers curling around the silver fork with reluctant grace.

Minjeong nudged her plate forward slightly. “You’re supposed to eat it, not play with it.”

Y/N shot her a glare before stabbing a small piece of fruit with her fork. “Why do you act like that?”

Minjeong tilted her head. “Like what?”

Y/N frowned, cheeks puffing slightly. “Like a boy.”

Minjeong blinked, then let out a short breath of amusement. “I don’t act like a boy. I act like me.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. “You’re weird.”

Minjeong leaned in slightly, smirking. “And you’re spoiled.”

Y/N gasped, scandalized, but before she could retaliate, an older noblewoman leaned down to look at them both, her jewelry clinking as she moved. “Such a lovely pair,” she cooed. “You two are the future of our kingdoms. A perfect match.”

Minjeong forced a polite smile. Y/N, on the other hand, merely blinked, offering no words in return.

The noblewoman’s smile faltered before she straightened. “Well, I am sure you two will learn to adore each other in time.”

Minjeong watched as Y/N’s fingers curled into the silk of her dress, her knuckles paling.

“Are you all right?” Minjeong asked after the woman left.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to her lap. “I don’t want to adore you just because they tell me to.”

Minjeong tilted her head, intrigued by the quiet resistance in her words. “Then don’t.”

Y/N finally looked at her, a trace of surprise in her expression. “What?”

Minjeong leaned in just slightly, lowering her voice. “You don’t have to adore me. And I don’t have to adore you. Let them think whatever they want.”

For the first time that night, Y/N’s lips twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. “You’re still weird.”

Minjeong smirked, leaning back. “And you’re still spoiled.”

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The moon had risen high above the castle, casting a pale glow over the sprawling courtyards and endless stone corridors. The grand hall had long since emptied, save for a few lingering servants clearing away remnants of the evening’s feast. Somewhere in the west wing, music still played faintly—distant and dreamlike—but here, tucked away near the royal chambers, it was quieter.

Minjeong had managed to slip away from the watchful eyes of the guards and the persistent clutches of the nobles who wanted to fawn over the ‘handsome little prince.’ She didn’t want their attention, nor their praise. She wanted freedom.

And, apparently, so did Y/N.

She spotted the younger princess sitting near the base of a large window, her small frame framed by the moonlight. Y/N’s elaborate dress pooled around her in soft waves of silk and lace, but her posture was anything but composed. Her arms were crossed, her brows furrowed, and her tiny slippered foot tapped impatiently against the marble floor.

Minjeong approached with an easy confidence, hands slipping into the pockets of her tailored tunic. "You look upset, princess. Did one of the noble ladies call you adorable again?"

Y/N’s head snapped up, her glare sharp as a blade. "Go away."

Minjeong grinned. "That’s no way to speak to your future spouse."

Y/N huffed and turned her gaze back to the window. "You’re annoying."

Minjeong plopped down beside her, ignoring the princess’s exaggerated sigh. "You keep saying that, but I’m starting to think you don’t actually mean it."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of conversation from the other side of the castle. Y/N’s hands fidgeted with the lace of her sleeves before she finally muttered, "They keep telling me I have to marry you. That I have to spend my whole life with you."

Minjeong watched her closely. "And you don’t like that?"

Y/N turned to face her, eyes filled with something too complex for a five-year-old to fully understand—something tangled between frustration and uncertainty. "You act like a boy. You’re loud and stubborn and you don’t care about rules."

Minjeong smirked. "And?"

Y/N’s scowl deepened. "And I don’t like it."

Minjeong chuckled, leaning back against the stone wall. "Then I guess you’re stuck with me anyway."

Y/N groaned dramatically, burying her face in her hands. "I wish they’d picked someone else."

Minjeong merely shrugged. "I think they picked me because I’m the only one who won’t let you boss me around."

Y/N peeked at her from behind her fingers. "That’s exactly why it’s terrible."

Minjeong laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the empty hallway. "Don’t worry, princess. You don’t have to like me. You just have to survive me."

Y/N groaned again, but this time, Minjeong caught the small, reluctant twitch at the corner of her lips. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant music and the faint sounds of servants moving about. The castle at night felt different—less grand, less intimidating. It was almost peaceful.

Y/N finally broke the silence. "I don’t want to spend my whole life doing what they tell me to."

Minjeong tilted her head, studying her. "Then don’t."

Y/N frowned. "That’s easy for you to say. You do whatever you want."

Minjeong smirked, leaning back on her hands. "And what if I do? You could too, if you stopped worrying so much about rules."

Y/N let out a small sigh, playing with the folds of her dress. "I just… I don’t know what I want. I just know I don’t want this."

Minjeong softened slightly. "Well, we have time to figure that out."

Y/N gave her a sideways glance, hesitant but curious. "Do you really think so?"

Minjeong nodded. "Yeah. Who knows? Maybe by the time we’re older, you’ll actually like me."

Y/N wrinkled her nose. "Unlikely."

Minjeong laughed. "We’ll see."

Y/N, despite herself, smiled just a little. "Maybe."

And for now, that was enough.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The castle gardens were vast, a maze of neatly trimmed hedges and fountains that sparkled under the early morning sun. It was one of Y/N’s favorite places, a rare escape from the weight of expectations. Here, she could pretend she wasn’t bound to duty, to marriage, to the ever-watchful eyes of the court. But today, the tranquility was short-lived.

Minjeong stood across from her, arms crossed over her chest, an infuriating smirk tugging at her lips. "You’re just mad because I beat you."

Y/N scowled, clutching the hem of her dress tightly. "You cheated."

"I didn’t cheat. I just run faster than you." Minjeong tilted her head, clearly enjoying Y/N’s frustration. "Not my fault you wear those ridiculous shoes."

Y/N gasped, eyes narrowing. "They are not ridiculous! They’re made for a princess."

Minjeong snickered. "Yeah, a very slow princess."

That was it. Y/N stomped her foot, cheeks burning as she huffed. "You’re insufferable! I don’t know why they want me to marry you."

Minjeong grinned, shrugging. "Maybe they think you’ll make me more refined. I doubt it, though."

Y/N turned on her heel, determined to ignore her for the rest of the day. But as she stalked off, Minjeong’s playful nature got the better of her. She reached down, spotting something lurking near the fountain. A large, many-legged creature—a spider, its dark form lurking against the stone. Minjeong’s lips curled mischievously.

She knew Y/N hated bugs.

"Princess," Minjeong called sweetly.

Y/N barely turned her head before Minjeong held out the spider, its legs twitching in the air. "For you."

The scream that followed could be heard from the castle towers.

Y/N stumbled back, tripping over the hem of her dress and landing unceremoniously on the grass. Her eyes were wide, horrified, as she stared at the creature Minjeong still held. "N-No! Get it away!"

Minjeong laughed, holding the spider closer. "Oh, come on, princess. It’s just a tiny little thing. See? It won’t hurt you."

Y/N whimpered, scrambling backward, her breaths coming faster. "Minjeong! I said get it away!"

Minjeong, still grinning, wiggled the spider closer. "What’s wrong? It likes you. Maybe you should keep it as a pet."

Y/N let out a sob, hands flying up to shield her face. "Stop! Please!"

That was when Minjeong’s amusement finally wavered.

The genuine terror in Y/N’s voice sent an uncomfortable jolt through her. She blinked, stepping back, her fingers twitching. "Hey… I was just messing around. It’s just a—"

"I don’t care!" Y/N yelled, her voice breaking. "Just throw it away!"

Minjeong quickly tossed the spider into the grass, suddenly feeling much less triumphant. "It’s gone, okay? It’s gone."

But Y/N wasn’t looking at her. She was curled up, knees drawn to her chest, her breaths erratic, eyes squeezed shut. Her small frame trembled violently.

Minjeong swallowed, guilt settling heavily in her chest. She crouched beside Y/N hesitantly. "I… I didn’t know you were that scared."

Y/N sniffled, refusing to look at her. "Of course you didn’t. You don’t care. You just think everything is a joke."

Minjeong frowned. "That’s not true. I—"

"Go away," Y/N mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. She stood up and ran away from Minjeong.

Minjeong hesitated, fingers clenching against her tunic, but didn’t run after her. For the first time, she didn’t have a clever response, didn’t have a teasing remark to brush off the moment. She had never seen Y/N like this.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to no one.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The grand ballroom was alive with the shimmer of golden chandeliers, the polished marble reflecting the glow of candlelight and the swirl of flowing silks. Lords and ladies danced in practiced circles, their laughter mingling with the soft melody of the musicians stationed at the far end of the hall. Tonight was another of the many royal gatherings that Y/N had long since grown tired of—another night of polite smiles, measured steps, and suffocating expectations.

But tonight, she had a plan.

Minjeong stood near the center of the room, dressed in the finest formal tunic, a deep navy trimmed with gold embroidery. She looked proud, confident, the perfect image of her parents’ expectations. Y/N watched from the sidelines, eyes narrowing as she recalled the humiliation Minjeong had caused her in the garden days before. That moment—her fear, her tears—had lingered in her mind, and if Minjeong thought she could get away with it unscathed, she was sorely mistaken.

She moved carefully, weaving through the gathered guests, her expression composed, her steps deliberate. In her hand, hidden beneath the folds of her gown, was a goblet filled with the richest red wine. She had taken it from a passing servant’s tray, and now it rested precariously in her grasp, waiting for the perfect moment.

Minjeong, oblivious to her impending doom, was speaking with a group of noblemen. She laughed at something one of them said, a bright, carefree sound that only made Y/N more determined. The memory of Minjeong’s smirk, the way she had dangled that awful spider in front of her, replayed in her mind.

Y/N took a deep breath, then feigned a misstep.

The goblet tilted. The deep red liquid surged forward.

A gasp rippled through the ballroom as the wine splashed across Minjeong’s pristine tunic, staining the fine fabric in an instant. The laughter died, replaced by a heavy silence as all eyes turned toward the scene.

Minjeong blinked, looking down at the spreading crimson stain. It took her a moment to register what had happened, to piece together the innocent, wide-eyed look Y/N gave her and the telltale twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

Y/N gasped dramatically. “Oh no! I’m so clumsy.”

Minjeong’s eye twitched.

Y/N stepped back, hands clasped before her in an almost angelic display of innocence. “I really must be more careful. My sincerest apologies, Minjeong. That must be terribly uncomfortable.”

Minjeong exhaled through her nose, jaw tightening as she forced a smile. “It’s nothing,” she said evenly, though her grip on her sleeves suggested otherwise. “Accidents happen.”

Y/N could practically see the gears turning in Minjeong’s head, the restrained fury hidden behind her ever-composed demeanor. This was war, and Y/N had just declared the next battle.

The room was still watching, whispers starting to weave between the nobles, waiting to see how Minjeong would react. But Minjeong, ever the master of self-control, simply smiled through gritted teeth and took a step closer.

“Very clumsy indeed,” Minjeong murmured, low enough that only Y/N could hear. “Let’s hope you don’t make a habit of it.”

Y/N tilted her head, the picture of innocence. “Oh, of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Minjeong’s lips curled at the edges, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Good.”

The tension between them crackled like fire, unnoticed by the rest of the gathering as the music resumed and the nobles resumed their conversations. But between them, the battle lines had been drawn, and Y/N knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

It started with a single throw.

Minjeong, having grown bored of sitting through another tedious lesson on royal etiquette, picked up a plush velvet pillow and hurled it straight at Y/N’s head.

The impact was immediate—Y/N wobbled, her tiny frame nearly toppling over as the pillow knocked her delicate crown askew.

“Minjeong!” Y/N shrieked, scrambling to grab a pillow of her own. “You absolute menace!”

Minjeong smirked. “You look like a baby bird.”

That was it. Y/N launched herself at her, pillow in hand. What followed was a whirlwind of flying cushions, laughter, and very undignified battle cries.

The door burst open, revealing a very unimpressed Queen Taeyeon and Queen Irene.

Taeyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Again?”

Irene, arms crossed, watched as Y/N attempted to tackle Minjeong—who was holding Y/N back simply by placing a hand on her forehead.

“Minjeong, stop holding her like that,” Irene said, exasperated.

Minjeong grinned. “But it’s so easy.”

“Let me go, you overgrown tree!” Y/N yelled, flailing.

Seulgi, sipping tea nearby, hummed. “You know, this is actually quite entertaining.”

Tiffany grinned. “I’m starting to think they’ll either get married on their own accord or they’ll kill r each other.”

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

The royal kitchens were off-limits. That much had been made clear.

And yet, here they were—two tiny figures crouched behind a long wooden counter, their eyes locked onto a golden tray of freshly baked cookies.

Minjeong glanced at Y/N. “You cause a distraction, I grab the cookies.”

Y/N looked up at her. “Why do I have to be the distraction?”

“Because you’re small and cute. People believe you.”

Y/N huffed. “Fine. But if I get caught, I’m telling them it was your idea.”

She marched out into the open, putting on her best “helpless princess” expression. “Oh dear, I seem to have lost my way…”

As the kitchen staff turned to her in concern, Minjeong moved like a shadow, swiping the tray with precision—until her taller-than-average self smacked her head on a hanging pan.

CLANG.

The entire kitchen froze.

Minjeong groaned, gripping her forehead. Y/N, eyes wide, slowly pointed at her. “It was all her idea.”

Taeyeon, having just entered, sighed. “Minjeong. Again?”

Minjeong, still holding the tray of cookies, grinned up at her mother. “Want one?”

Taeyeon sighed, rubbing her temples. “Tiffany, your daughter is a bad influence.”

Tiffany smirked. “I think she’s a genius.”

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

Minjeong always teased Y/N about her shoes. “How do you run in those?” she’d say, watching Y/N struggle to keep up with her longer strides.

So, Y/N devised a plan.

The next morning, Minjeong woke up to find her boots had mysteriously vanished. In their place were delicate, lace-trimmed, pearl-studded slippers.

“Y/N,” Minjeong called, her voice dangerously calm. “Where. Are. My. Boots?”

Y/N, seated elegantly at breakfast, sipped her juice. “Oh dear, did they go missing? What a shame.”

Minjeong glared at her before stomping into the dining hall—wearing the dainty slippers.

Tiffany choked on her tea.

Taeyeon cleared her throat. “You look… lovely, dear.”

Seulgi, barely containing her laughter, nodded. “Very regal.”

Irene simply turned to Y/N. “You’re grounded.”

Y/N pouted. “But she deserved it!”

Minjeong smirked. “This means war.”

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The sun hung high above the castle courtyard, casting a warm glow over the stone paths and neatly trimmed hedges. It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon. Instead, it had turned into yet another royal catastrophe.

Minjeong and Y/N sat on opposite ends of a wooden bench, arms crossed, expressions set in deep scowls. Their dresses were slightly disheveled from their earlier scuffle—Minjeong’s tunic had traces of grass stains, and Y/N’s carefully arranged hair was now slightly askew. Their parents stood in front of them, unimpressed.

"Enough," Taeyeon said, her voice carrying the finality of a queen who had run out of patience. "You two will spend the afternoon together, and you will not fight."

"But she started it!" Y/N and Minjeong said in unison, pointing accusing fingers at each other.

Irene exhaled sharply. "It doesn’t matter who started it. What matters is that you two need to learn how to get along."

Seulgi, standing beside her, smirked. "Or at least tolerate each other without trying to start a war."

Tiffany clapped her hands together. "So, here’s what’s going to happen. You are both going to spend time together—just the two of you. No guards, no attendants. Just an afternoon of peaceful bonding."

Minjeong groaned. "I’d rather wrestle a bear."

Y/N huffed. "I’d rather be kidnapped."

"Careful what you wish for," Seulgi muttered under her breath.

With no further arguments allowed, their parents left them alone in the courtyard, watching from a distance as their children sat in stubborn silence.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. Neither of them spoke.

Finally, Minjeong sighed dramatically and leaned back against the bench. "Well? Say something."

Y/N scoffed. "Why should I? I have nothing to say to you."

Minjeong rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then I’ll talk." She tilted her head back, staring at the sky. "I bet you’ve never climbed a tree before."

Y/N frowned. "Why would I climb a tree? That’s ridiculous."

"It’s not ridiculous. It’s fun," Minjeong said, stretching her arms. "But you probably don’t know anything about fun, do you, princess?"

Y/N’s eye twitched. "I know plenty about fun."

"Oh really?" Minjeong smirked. "Prove it."

Before Y/N could protest, Minjeong hopped off the bench and ran toward the large oak tree standing tall at the edge of the courtyard. She grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted herself up with practiced ease.

Y/N remained seated, watching with mild disinterest. "You look ridiculous."

Minjeong grinned down at her. "And you look scared."

Y/N bristled. "I am not scared."

"Then climb up here."

Y/N hesitated. She had never actually climbed a tree before, and the thought of getting her dress caught on the branches or falling in front of Minjeong made her stomach twist. But the smug look on Minjeong’s face was unbearable.

With a huff, she marched toward the tree and grabbed onto the lowest branch. Minjeong watched with interest as Y/N struggled, her arms too short, her shoes slipping against the bark.

"Need help?" Minjeong offered, grinning.

Y/N glared up at her. "I don’t need your help."

After several frustrating attempts—and Minjeong laughing at every failed one—Y/N finally managed to get herself onto the first branch. She clung to it tightly, eyes wide as she realized how high up she felt.

"Not so bad, right?" Minjeong teased, sitting comfortably on a higher branch.

"Shut up," Y/N muttered, gripping the tree trunk.

For a moment, they sat there in silence, the breeze rustling through the leaves. Minjeong looked down at Y/N, her smirk softening. "You know… You’re not that bad when you’re not whining."

Y/N scoffed but didn’t snap back immediately. Instead, she looked out at the castle grounds, the view surprisingly nice from up here.

"Maybe this isn’t the worst afternoon ever," she admitted quietly.

Minjeong grinned. "See? Told you."

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The sun had long since set, leaving the castle halls illuminated only by the soft glow of torches flickering against the stone walls. The air was cooler now, carrying the distant hum of the wind through the open windows. The once lively energy of the palace had quieted, save for the occasional murmur of servants finishing their evening duties.

Minjeong hadn’t meant to be wandering the halls so late, but she couldn’t sleep. Her argument with Y/N earlier had replayed in her mind too many times, each insult and sharp word echoing louder than the last. They had fought before—countless times, really. But tonight, it had been different.

She hadn’t expected Y/N to cry.

Minjeong stopped near one of the grand staircases, drawn to the sound of muffled sniffles coming from a secluded alcove. Carefully, she peeked around the stone column, and there she was—Y/N, curled up on a cushioned bench, her small frame hunched as she wiped at her cheeks.

Minjeong frowned. Y/N never cried, not since the spider incident. She always yelled, pouted, stomped her feet, but she never cried. Seeing her like this… It made an uncomfortable twist in Minjeong’s chest.

She hesitated before stepping forward. "Hey."

Y/N stiffened at the sound of her voice, quickly turning her head away. "Go away."

Minjeong didn’t move. She leaned against the column instead, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted at the sight of Y/N’s red-rimmed eyes. "You know, if you want me to leave, you should at least yell at me properly."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, refusing to look at her. "I don’t feel like yelling."

Minjeong shifted her weight. "Why?" The question came out before she could stop herself.

Y/N sniffled, pressing her sleeve to her face. "Because it won’t change anything."

Minjeong frowned. "Change what?"

Y/N hesitated before whispering, "That I don’t want to be stuck with you forever."

Minjeong’s jaw clenched. She had heard Y/N say things like that before, but this time, it didn’t feel like an insult—it sounded like something heavier, something she truly believed. And for some reason, Minjeong hated hearing it.

She looked away, suddenly feeling restless. "Well, I don’t want to be stuck with you either."

Y/N let out a dry laugh, though it lacked any real amusement. "Then I guess we both lose."

Silence settled between them, thick and suffocating. Minjeong had no idea what to say, no idea why this moment felt different from all their other fights. All she knew was that she didn’t like seeing Y/N like this. She didn’t like the tears, the quiet resignation in her voice. It didn’t suit her.

With an awkward sigh, Minjeong reached into her pocket, pulling out a small handkerchief—embroidered with her family’s crest. She hesitated only a second before holding it out to Y/N.

"Here."

Y/N blinked at it, then at Minjeong. "What’s that for?"

Minjeong rolled her eyes. "You’re crying, idiot."

Y/N glared at her, but it was weaker than usual. Still, after a pause, she reached out and took the handkerchief, gripping it tightly in her small hands.

Minjeong cleared her throat, shifting on her feet. "I… uh, I’ll let you be now."

She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, Y/N spoke. "Minjeong?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Y/N was looking down at the handkerchief in her lap, her fingers brushing over the embroidery. She swallowed before whispering, "Thanks."

Minjeong didn’t know why her heart skipped a beat. And she really didn’t like that it did.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ; 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ilyprs]

P I S T A N T H R O P H O B I A | s.geum

───𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛───

pistanthrophobia : the fear of trusting people, forming close romantic relationships, and being vulnerable in interpersonal connections

' in which she can't escape her first love

•seong-je x reader

•part 8. (other parts are out on my profile !!

ׂׂ. ૢ་༘______________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•✩♬ now playing: 28 reasons | seulgi

It had grown dark, and Park Hu-min, Go Hyun-tak, and Lee Serim were all sitting in her dimly lit living room. Each of them had an empty instant ramen cup in front of them, long since eaten. Gotak, sitting on the couch, stared ahead with an unreadable expression on his face. Baku, on the other hand, sat on the opposite couch, directly across from Serim, who was sitting on the floor, and looked at her with disappointment in his eyes.

As much as the girl wanted to, she couldn't escape the situation or the lecture her friends had just given her. To be honest, she really had deserved it — but it still hurt to hear those disappointed words come out of their mouths. Her friends had always been honest with her, something she was usually thankful for — but in this moment, it was the last thing she needed. Lee Serim knew she needed to hear what they were saying, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

The boys had been shocked when Serim confessed everything. They'd asked her over and over, in disbelief, why she never asked for their help — but the girl couldn't answer. In some strange way, she had craved Seong-je's attention. In some twisted way, she had even enjoyed being chased by him, even though it sounded wrong no matter how she tried to word it or express it. Her thoughts were a mess and so was she.

„And what exactly were you hoping to get out of all this?" Baku asked seriously, staring at her. It had been a long time since she'd seen him this upset, and it scared her. The gravity of the situation could no longer be ignored, and the tension in the room was almost unbearable. The girl took a deep breath, brushed her hair behind her ear, and replied in a calm voice:

„Want the honest answer? I have no fucking idea. I don't know what I was thinking. I was stupid and naïve to let myself get pulled back in, even indirectly — and I know that. But I can't tell you why I did it." It was the truth. She really didn't know why she did the things she did.

Serim's voice grew quieter with each word, and Gotak sighed in frustration before placing a protective hand on her shoulder. The girl looked up at him with glassy eyes, and when she saw the encouragement in his gaze, and the small smile he offered her, she felt herself calm down a little. The situation made her feel uneasy — like she was being interrogated by the police. She knew her friends, especially Baku, didn't mean any harm. They just genuinely wanted to understand what had gone through her head in that moment. But she didn't know herself. If she had known, maybe she never would have ended up in such a messed-up situation.

Gotak had stayed quiet for most of the conversation, listening from the background — something that wasn't unusual. But whenever things got too heated between Hu-min and Serim, he always stepped in. Things had calmed down a little now. Baku exhaled again, clearly frustrated, running a hand over his face and muttering a quiet, „Fuck."

Serim's heart sank. She felt like she had betrayed her closest friends in some way — and it was eating her up inside.

„It's getting late. We should head out," Baku finally said, mostly to himself, then stood up. Gotak followed suit, and Serim looked up at the two in surprise before standing as well and walking them to the door to say goodbye. With a heavy heart and a thousand guilt-ridden thoughts swirling inside her, she watched her closest friends put on their jackets and open the front door.

At that moment, Serim regretted everything she had done. It would never, ever be worth it to give up something so good and pure — her friendship with these boys — for something as toxic and unhealthy as her relationship with Seong-je. She had been foolish, and now she had to live with the consequences.

Her eyes welled up again, expecting her friends to leave without another word — expecting silence from them in the days to come. But Baku quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

„Just so you know," he said quietly, „we're not mad at you. We're just disappointed. It's not your fault that fucker is stalking you and pressuring you. Whether you like it or not, you two share an intimate past — and that's not something you can forget overnight. Just... from now on, try to let your head guide you. Not your heart. We'll see you tomorrow at school."

He spoke softly, and just as the two were about to leave, a tearful Serim stopped them. She ran after them and hugged the taller boy from behind, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head against his back. She sobbed quietly, and Gotak gently joined the hug, stroking her head in comfort.

Lee Serim knew she would never be able to thank her friends enough.

—

„I get what you're saying. Fine. Let's ignore each other."

Serim, who was standing outside the basketball clubroom, raised her eyebrows in confusion and put her AirPod back into its case. The group always met here, but it sounded like there were others inside too, which made her pause and listen. She could make out Baku's voice, which meant Gotak was probably in there as well. But who were they talking to? She couldn't tell.

With a shrug, she was just about to enter the room when suddenly the door swung open from the inside and Sieun came out. Serim looked at him, and he also paused briefly when he saw her before dropping his gaze back to the ground and brushing past her.

As he passed, he bumped into her, causing the girl's backpack to slip off her shoulder.

„Hey!" she yelled after the new student. Seriously, what had she done to deserve his attitude? Serim didn't know what they were talking about in there, but she certainly wasn't a part the problem that was going on. She had nothing against his quiet, reserved personality—but this was too much. She had done nothing but be nice to him, and this was how he repaid her? People like that always drove Serim crazy.

„Sorry." That was all he mumbled before turning around again and heading back toward the school building. What the hell was his problem? Serim cursed under her breath as she watched him walk away, confused. Now annoyed, she slung her backpack back over her shoulder and stepped into the clubroom.

Inside were her friends—and Jun-tae, who honestly kind of counted as one of them now too. The three looked at her curiously. They probably expected Sieun to come back.

„What was that about?" the girl asked the group that stared at her, looking a bit lost. She plopped down on the couch next to Baku and stretched her legs out, propping them on the table.

„W-We don't really know..." Jun-tae mumbled, avoiding her gaze. Serim had to smile a little at the sight of him and gave him a gentle nod. Gotak, standing beside him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled too. Jun-tae and his gentle nature were just too sweet.

Before Gotak could say anything more, Jun-tae quickly excused himself and rushed out of the room—probably to go talk to Sieun. The three of them just watched after him but didn't say anything.

⸻

The school day had finally come to an end, and the four teenagers were on their way home. Gotak, Jun-tae, and Serim walked together, chatting about nonsense, while Hu-min walked in front of them, deep in thought. It was unusual for him to be so quiet, but Serim didn't want to pry. If Park Hu-min had a problem, he would speak up when the time was right. He had always been like that, and Serim didn't want to push—especially not after what had happened at the museum.

Maybe she was the reason he seemed so distant? Maybe he still hadn't come to terms with what she had done?

While she ran through all the possible explanations in her mind, she kept watching him—until he suddenly turned around. The usual sparkle in his eyes was gone, and he looked tense. The three teens behind him stopped in their tracks.

„I'll go ahead. See you tomorrow."

Okay, something was definitely wrong. He would never just leave his friends like that without a word—especially not after what had happened with Seong-je.

Serim opened her mouth to say something, but Gotak beat her to it.

„Damn, man. Tell me you're not meeting Baek-jin."

Wait, what? What did Baek-jin have to do with this?

Confused, Serim looked from Gotak to Baku then to Jun-tae and back again. She had spent the whole day lost in her own thoughts and clearly missed a lot. What was Baku up to? Was he in trouble?

Serim had been so caught up in her own problems that she hadn't really paid attention to her friends'. The realization made her feel a bit ashamed, and she went quiet. Maybe she really didn't deserve them.

„Nothing like that, man. Take care. See you later."

That was all he said, but it didn't sound convincing at all. Where was he really going? And was Baku involved in something shady?

Serim's thoughts spiraled again, and when Gotak called after him, Baku just replied that he had a date. That didn't help either. He was lying—if he really had a date, Serim would've been the first to know. Something was seriously off, and Serim could feel it in her gut.

Gotak just sighed in frustration. He clearly didn't buy it either, but he kept walking, followed by Jun-tae and Serim.

She had to do something—and fast. The thought that her friends were in danger scared her shitless. She had a terrible feeling Seong-je was somehow involved, and she needed to do everything in her power to stop whatever dangerous plan was about to unfold.

Determined and in a rush, she said goodbye to her friends at the next intersection, using the excuse that she had to help her dad at the gym. Then, with sweaty palms and quick steps, she made her way to the internet café—where her biggest problem was probably waiting for her.

—

Arriving at the internet café, she moved quickly and skillfully through the crowd of students gathered there, her eyes frantically searching for a familiar face. She walked down every row, examining each face closely. By the time she reached the third row and still hadn't found him, she was growing impatient. The feeling that something was seriously wrong had only gotten stronger.

Serim had to act fast—him not being at the café couldn't mean anything good. Her palms were getting sweatier, her eyes darting around more wildly with every minute that passed. After ten minutes and still no sign of him, panic was starting to settle in.

Annoyed, she ran a hand through her hair and was just about to leave the café when a hand suddenly grabbed her arm. Startled, she spun around and found herself face to face with a student. She stared at the stranger in confusion—until her eyes dropped to his school uniform.

Fuck.

He was one of Seong-je's many minions.

He just looked at her silently and whispered something to another boy who had now joined him. Quickly, she pulled her arm back and gave them one last glance before hurrying out of the café. She had to find her friends as fast as possible before something happened. By now, she was almost certain they were in trouble, and Serim felt like she was losing her mind.

She quickly reached into her jacket pocket for her phone and opened the location app to try and find Gotak. After the incident with Seong-je, the group had started sharing locations with each other—Gotak's idea. At the time, she'd been against it, but now she could've kissed him for suggesting it. That idea might just save them.

Without thinking twice, the girl started running, hoping she wasn't already too late. She didn't even notice the looks she got from people she nearly knocked over as she pushed through the streets. Right now, her friends were her one and only priority.

⸻

The app had led her to a rooftop, and before she even stepped onto it, a thousand thoughts were racing through her mind. She had no idea what was waiting for her up there. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe Gotak was just hanging out with the others?

Maybe all those strange vibes she'd been feeling had just been in her head. Maybe everything was fine?

But before she could think any further, she flung the door open—and what she saw made her heart stop. Her mouth went dry, and for a moment, she could've sworn she forgot how to breathe.

Gotak and Jun-tae were slumped against a fence, badly injured, and Serim inhaled sharply as her eyes continued to scan the scene. A few of Seong-je's minions were standing around them, and Sieun was facing Seong-je, a pen clenched tightly in his hand.

There had clearly been a fight—and the winner was obvious.

„What the fuck?!"

It was the only thing she could get out before every single person turned to look at her.

What the hell had she just walked into?

How had it come to this?

Seeing her friends on the ground, hurt and helpless, shattered her heart—and in the same breath, made her furious.

„What are you doing here?"

The deep voice of Seong-je cut through her thoughts, and her heart stopped again.

His tone wasn't teasing or playful like it usually was.

It was cold. Full of rage.

And that scared the hell out of her.

a/n: sorry for this filler chapter i promise the next one is going to be better !!🩷

taglist: @gacktsa @dripoftheseus @rockerica @b3eutyist3rror @jaymiwrld @urfavsagsblog @shonerd @mordessaa @inhoswifee @wagawana @feralmaneater

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (10)

ー☆ Chapter 10: Sugar

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word bitch ー☆ Word count: 13.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I am so-so sorry for making you wait for so long for chapter 10, but I am finally DONE with university and have been heavily focusing on my works since, so hopefully I'll get to update this series a lot more often! ^^ This part is the longest so far, and I think you all deserve it after the long wait. I feel like it isn't the best I have written for this series so far, but I'll let you be the judge of it. I can't wait to hear your thoughts about chapter 10 and please leave feedback, you always make my day when you do so! <3 Listen to Sugar before or while reading this chapter, it's actually really important as it's the song they are performing hehet. The outfit Mingi wears is the one in the moodboard, with a little change to his hair color mhmm. I hope you enjoy this, and happy reading! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            The doors of the cab slammed shut behind us, the voice of the driver wishing us a good time cut short as I grimaced, looking up at the sign of Outlaw. Well, here I was again, under much different circumstance than the first time. Now, I was here willingly, having agreed to come myself, unlike the last time, when I tagged along with Seulgi just because I felt bad for her having to come on her own to woo her crush—turned boyfriend now, thankfully. Seulgi’s heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she came to stand next to me, the cab finally driving off, and when I threw her a quick glance, I caught her smirking at me again. I groaned and crossed my arms in front of my chest, the leather jacket crippling under the action, making a quiet sound that was drowned out as a few guys exited the pub, laughing loudly about something.

“Stop giving me that look, Seulgi.” I groaned as she just chuckled, pursing her lips.

“I didn’t think you owned clothes like that,” Seulgi’s teasing was relentless, she’s been at my throat the second she stopped by my house so that we’d ride to Outlaw together, “Who was your inspiration for tonight? Letty from Fast and Furious?”

“I swear to God, Seulgi, shut up!” I exclaimed, pushing her shoulder playfully as she stuck her tongue out at me before she grabbed my arm to drag me towards the pub’s entrance, “You don’t hear me making fun of your outfit for looking like you’ve come straight out of Scooby-Doo or something!”

“Scooby-Doo?!” Seulgi exclaimed, throwing me an offended look, “You’re being foul now, Y/N, my mother bought this dress for me and I think the colors are lovely!”

“They are, I’m just playing with you because you deserve it.” I chuckled, opening the door for her as she shook her head at me, adjusting the hem of her short dress. Seulgi looked like a character straight out of the seventies with her orange and brown patterned dress, the sleeves loose at the end and the skirt a little ruffled as it reached just below her thighs. She matched some white high heeled boots with it that reached up to her knees, and her small shoulder bag was white as well to match her boots. She ruffled up her black hair even more, the curs tighter as she pulled half of it up in a ponytail, and I gave her some white winged-eyeliner, blushing up her cheeks and painting her lips a pretty coral color. She looked absolutely lovely and she was very excited to see Wooyoung, who apparently, wore similar colors. They have agreed to match their outfits for tonight, and as much as I hated admitting it, I thought it was rather adorable, and found myself pondering whether I’d do it too if I had a boyfriend.

As for myself, not wanting to feel like the last time I was here, out of place and as if everyone was ogling me, I wore something that I deemed rather fit for a rock show, something more from the twenties. My jeans were a dark grey color, low rise and flared out below the knees. I wore black boots with it that didn’t have too high of a heel as I knew my feet would hurt quite fast because of them. It took some time until I finally settled on the simple white tank top that I wore now, just about reaching my belly button as I wasn’t keen of showing too much skin. And the dark leather bomber jacket that I wore to keep me warm from the cold night is actually my mother’s, and I totally stole it from her closet without her noticing—hopefully. Accessories had always been an important part of my outfits; therefore I threw on a thick dark brown belt, which perhaps drew the attention onto my exposed lower belly, but I didn’t ponder enough on the thought in order to prevent feeling uncomfortable about it, and as my black nails were painted in a haste, they definitely didn’t look as neat as I would have preferred them to be. My fingers, per usual, weren’t left bare as I wore my favorite rings, only my left pinky and right ring-finger missing the jewelry. Not wanting to leave my neck bare either, I threw on a black choker that had a moonstone pendant, and two more silver necklaces that hung at different lengths around my neck, and some smaller silver hoop earrings that completed the look altogether. I left my hair alone mostly, gave it a few large curls as I didn’t like the way it looked straight with the outfit, and for once, I didn’t feel the need to do any strong makeup. Similar to Seulgi, I rosed up my cheeks a little bit and applied a dark red lip-gloss that would certainly come off the second my lips touch a glass to drink water. I would like to think I totally slayed this outfit, and ignore Seulgi’s incessant teasing that I was all dolled up because of someone. But she’s wrong—like she is almost always—because I did not have Mingi in mind when putting together this outfit, I merely didn’t want to look out of place again.

The air was rather warm inside the pub as Seulgi and I walked inside, then down a flight of stairs as today’s performance would be on the lower part, an after party following it. Different smells mixed in the air, mostly those sweet elf bars everyone seemed to be smoking, and the not so pleasant smell of cigarettes, the two smells mixing with the perfume and cologne of the people down there. I wondered when it became alright to smoke indoors, especially in a confined space underground, but before I could say anything about it to Seulgi, we were greeted by a familiar face. We have barely walked inside the room, Seulgi’s boyfriend was stood in front of us, grinning from ear to ear. I stepped aside as Seulgi released my hand and I watched as the two grinned at each other widely, going in for a tight hug as Wooyoung buried his head in Seulgi’s neck. And they certainly didn’t joke about matching their outfits tonight, Wooyoung wore brown jeans that were ripped at his knees, showing off a tattoo that I didn’t know he had, and his top was an orange mesh fabric with white streaks, leaving little to imagination, and I was taken aback upon seeing it. But Seulgi seemed to be enjoying it `as she fiddled with the fabric at his arms and even leaned down to whisper something in his ear, something I certainly didn’t want to hear as Wooyoung’s cheeks instantly tinged red. I snorted and stepped up to them, raising one eyebrow.

“If you’re done devouring each other, love birds, should we go sit down somewhere upstairs until you are next to perform?” I spoke up, Wooyoung’s eyes falling on me as he grinned widely, Seulgi sticking to his side as her arm went around his shoulders.

“Hi, Y/N!” Wooyoung greeted enthusiastically, blinking his eyes innocently at me, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course,” I snorted, smirking at him, “you were too busy checking my bestie out, which is cool since you’re her boyfriend, but I certainly would’ve broken your nose if you weren’t…”

“She’s only joking!” Seulgi exclaimed, a nervous laugh bubbling up her throat as she pressed her cheek against Wooyoung’s, “Well…mostly, she did punch a guy once because he was bothering us…”

I grinned, placing my hands deep in my jacket’s pocket, Wooyoung’s expression falling as he took me in, “Don’t worry, I was only joking, Wooyoung. With you…not with that other guy.”

“Yeah, cool.” Wooyoung laughed, but it sounded rather fake and I grinned satisfied, making Seulgi narrow her eyes at me. Wooyoung had to know I liked him as long as Seulgi did and as long as he treated her right. If he breaks her heart, I break his nose…simple as that, “Uh, if Mingi finally decides to stop fixing his hair in the bathroom and joins us, we could go upstairs, although I don’t know when it’s our turn to perform.”

Mingi, right. It seemed like after hanging out things were back to normal between us, no more ignored messages and awkward tension that drove me up the wall. He was back to his old and annoying self, texting me—more like spamming me—about anything and everything that came to mind, and I finally felt relaxed around him again. Well, as relaxed as I could be given the fact that my whole body jumped whenever I got a text from him and my heart would pick up its rhythm and make me blush like a stupid schoolgirl. I hated it, this feeling where I knew something was brewing deep inside, but I opted to ignore it. I wanted to ignore it. I was scared that if I stopped ignoring it, then it would become very real, and for that to happen, something even very small could trigger it. I desperately wished nothing more would put our friendship to test and that we just continue blissfully ignoring the lingering stares and the accidental touches that somehow have stopped feeling so accidental or uncomfortable lately.

“Ah, there he is!” Wooyoung exclaimed loudly, snickering at someone behind me, “The princess himself, is your highness ready at last? Or should I go with you and help you fix your boxers too or something?”

Wooyoung’s loud cackle didn’t manage to mask the low giggle behind me, and upon hearing the familiar sound, all particles of my body decided to heat up at once, making me whirl around almost frantically, blood freezing and body going cold at the approaching sight. Whoever that man was…it looked like Mingi, but at the same time it felt like a different person. A much hotter and sexier Mingi than the one I have known for a little over a month now, and I gulped, feeling my jaw about to drop open at any moment. I didn’t know at what to look first, his face, his body—outfit—or his hair? The sight of Song Mingi suddenly was too much to take in at once and I gulped, eyes settling on his outfit that was…revealing? Vulgar, perhaps? But it concealed everything in the perfect percentage, as if he purposefully wanted to tease the audience—me?

But at the same time, due to the innocent look on his face, he made it seem like he had absolutely no fucking idea of how hot and ravishing he looked, and suddenly, I couldn’t recognize my own feelings as my stomach coiled upon seeing Mingi’s sexy, all denim outfit. His jeans were a light colour and looked almost washed out with darker coloured patches strewn around the fabric, tightly ripped starting from his thighs, stopping just barely above his knees. But the fabric was long and loose, and it pooled around his ankles, this boots thick and tall, helping Mingi out from having to step on the ends of his jeans. Its waist was high and he wore no belt with the jeans, but a chain hung around his right pocket, concealed by the very similar denim jacket that he wore on top of his low-cut black tank top, positioned perfectly over his pecs, barely hiding his nipples. And perhaps the outfit wouldn’t have looked that crazy or provocative if it weren’t for the jacket, which was made out of the same material as his jeans, the front parts of its sleeves entirely ripped up, exposing his toned arms, teasing at what he’d usually hide with long sleeves as it was cold outside now. Mingi wore a beige fingerless glove on his left hand, and his right hand was adorned by the rings he liked most, all his fingernails now completely black with a hint of silver on a few of them. The long silver pendant sitting against the dip between his pecs definitely drew attention to the exposed skin, and two heavier looking silver chains clung snugly around his neck. And as he came closer, almost having reached us, I noticed the same little black scribble that I have called dirt the first time seeing it, was high on his right cheekbone again. It was his signature, apparently.

“Stop being an ass, Woo,” Mingi spoke up as he reached us at last, having stopped right in front of me—as I was still stupidly gaping at him—but he only looked past me, “my hair wouldn’t stay in place and I asked Hongjoong to help me fix it.”

“So that’s where he disappeared to,” Wooyoung chuckled, and I caught my jaw drop more open, so I quickly coughed and closed it as Mingi’s eyes briefly fell on me, “Seonghwa’s been looking for him desperately.”

“Those two need to learn how to live without each other, I swear to God, they are worse than you and Seulgi—”

“Hey!” Wooyoung scoffed and threw his best friend a glare as Seulgi chuckled, meanwhile me…yeah, I was malfunctioning. Completely and most certainly struggling to accept that the Mingi that stood in front of me wasn’t just simply conjured up by my mind, but was real, “Seulgi and I are lovely, thank you very much. But Seonghwa and Hongjoong are downright disgustingly in love with each other, even I can’t handle them anymore, and that’s a lot coming from me.”

Mingi chuckled and nodded in agreement, his eyes falling on me again, but this time they stayed on me. My muscles tensed and I gulped—my throat having gone too dry—trying to formulate one coherent thought. Mingi’s hair…it was still long, but it wasn’t black anymore. It was—this platinum blonde that sharpened his features so much more than they already were, and the way the front strands were jelled back highlighted his cheekbones, eyes, and even his tall nose.

“Hi, Y/N—”

“You’re blonde.” My mouth, once again, worked before my brain could agree to what was being said, “Like…platinum blonde.”

“Yeah, I’m blonde.” Mingi grinned, touching the back of his hair gently, eyes widening curiously, “What do you think…do you still hate blondes?”

Stupid mouth and stupid brain for not being able to synchronise when I most need them to, “No, not this blonde, not you.”

Silence settled around us and my cheeks flamed up, and I knew Seulgi was on the verge of bursting out laughing, and I wished for the Earth to swallow me up completely, but I refused to show any of those emotions as I forced my expression to become blank, and then cursed at my heart as it was hammering against my ribcage, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s flushed cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mingi cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he looked down, “I went ahead and took your advice, Seonghwa was eager to help me out.”

“Good, cool.” Tonight wasn’t my best night when it came to communicating, and I sighed loudly, much to Mingi’s amusement as he grinned then stepped even closer, throwing his arm around my shoulders and making me jump in the process. He veered us around to face Seulgi and Wooyoung, and I knew my whole face was red as I tried to keep my eyes ahead and not on Mingi’s exposed chest or arms, while also trying not to take a deep breath and inhale his scent—which was intoxicatingly sweet, yet somehow spicy at the same time. Good Lord, if I was a smoker, I’d definitely excuse myself and probably finish the whole package at this point.

“We’ll grab some drinks; do you want anything?” Mingi asked Wooyoung and Seulgi, who were both giving us looks that I rather ignored as Seulgi’s stare became insistent as she searched for eye contact.

“Nah, we’re good, right, baby?” Wooyoung kissed Seulgi’s cheek and she giggled nodding, shooing us away with her hand. What a traitor, I knew she wanted something to drink, but she thought she was playing matchmaker if she left me alone with Mingi.

Mingi shrugged and looked down at me, “Let’s go then.”

And before I could tell him that I wasn’t drinking tonight, he was veering us towards the bar, smiling from ear to ear. I rarely saw him so enthusiastic and smiley—happy—and I found myself unable to resist the need to ogle his profile as we arrived to the bar, finally releasing his hold on me. He pursed his lips as he held onto the surface of the bar, leaning a little over it. From this angle, and because I stood close to him, I could finally read what was written on his cheekbone, fix on. Well…that was peculiar, but at this point nothing really surprised me about him, not with a band name like Noir Zenith. Was it fair that Mingi looked handsome even from the side?

I realized his lips were moving, but I wasn’t focusing on what he was saying, and so, when he turned his head and smiled at me a little unsure, my eyes widened.

“Huh?” I found myself dumbly asking and Mingi giggled, the sound deep and making my palms ball up into fists because of how cute he sounded.

“I was saying that I hope you like sweet things.” He clarified as he leaned against the bar, tilting his head with a devilish glint in his dark brown eyes. I gulped and ran my hand through my hair, looking anywhere but at him. The shoes he wore made him tower over me, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. I should have worn higher heels to minimalize the sudden height difference between us.

“As long as they aren’t too sweet, I can handle them.” I muttered, and Mingi grinned as the bartender pushed a tall glass with something pinkish inside it towards me. I raised my eyebrows as the bartender went to take an order from someone else, pointing at my drink, “Is this for me?”

“Sure is.” Mingi smiled, and my eyebrows furrowed.

“Where’s yours? And why did he leave if we didn’t pay for it?” I mused as I grabbed the glass rather reluctantly.

“I don’t like to drink before the performance, and I already paid for it—”

“Mingi.” I deadpanned, cutting him off as my eyes narrowed at him, “This is the second time you pay for something that is mine. I don’t like it when guys do that—”

“But I’m not just any guy,” He leaned down, a little too close to my face, making my breathing halt in my throat, “I’m your bestie and if I want to spoil you, I certainly can and will do so.”

“That’s not how—” I took a deep breath and gave in at last when he started bating his eyebrows at me, making me huff, “Fine, thank you, Mingi.”

“You’re very welcome,” He grinned and poked my cheek, making me yank my head away as I threw a glare at him, “Now taste it so that I know you like it.”

“And if I don’t?” I teased as I took the straw between my lips and took a tentative sip.

“I’ll order something else, then.” Mingi pouted, watching me closely as I took a longer sip, humming at the strawberry-like taste of the drink. It wasn’t bad, and I couldn’t exactly taste the alcohol in it, so that was good.

“It’s tasty, so you don’t have to order anything else for me.” I tried to hide my smile as I took another sip, and Mingi looked pleased with himself as his hand glided across the bar slowly as he bit his lower lip and looked down. It was a rather unusual reaction from him, and as he cleared his throat, he suddenly touched the sleeve of my jacket, making my grip tighten around the glass.

“You look really good tonight.” His voice was low, and thus deeper, and I felt my breath get stuck in my throat for a second before I took a sip way too big of my drink, nodding at Mingi, and averting my eyes.

“Thank you,” My voice sounded a little raspy, and I quickly cleared my throat, “You—you look good too. Like…way too good.”

Mingi bit his bottom lip as his eyes bore into mine, almost making me choke on my sweet drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped rather loudly. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone appeared to our left, thankfully saving us from saying anything else that would make everything even more awkward than it already was.

“Mingi,” The tall man touched Mingi’s shoulder while offering me a soft smile, it was Seonghwa, “five minutes and we’re starting. Let’s go, and hi, Y/N, lovely seeing you again!”

I forcibly gulped down the drink and nodded at Seonghwa, albeit with my cheeks still tinged red, “Hello, good to see you too.”

Seonghwa grinned, looking rather happy, and then he turned around and waved someone over. I watched curiously as a man shorter than both Mingi and Seonghwa—even myself—walked over, looking rather expensive and high-class for a place like Outlaw, “Hongjoong, dear, mind staying with Y/N? I don’t want you to stand to the side alone, again.”

“Whatever you wish for, my love.” My eyebrows rose unintentionally as I looked at Mingi, trying to gulp down the laughter that threatened to bubble up, the exchange between the two lovers cute, but a little too much for my liking. Mingi looked almost sick as he rolled his eyes, and then grabbed Seonghwa’s arm and waved at Hongjoong.

“We are going.” He stated, and then sent a wink at me, “See you later, doll.”

And the way my cheeks started burning again wasn’t just a trick of the dimming lights as Hongjoong looked curiously my way, coming to stand next to me as he leaned up against the bar. His hair seemed to be a mixture of a light brown and deep purple, quite the hair colour, but it looked exceptionally good on him. He wore light coloured jeans and vinyl boots with small heels, his nails painted different promiscuous colours. The black shirt underneath his very expensive looking black blazer, decorated with silver dragons, had an intricate design on its right side, the fabric coming around his neck as a thin strap, probably sleeveless too on his right side. I knew an artist when I saw one, and I smiled at him widely as I extended my hand for him to shake.

“My name is Y/N.” I said, and despite the intimidating expression on his face, he smiled at me.

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s boyfriend.” My smile turned into a grin and I hummed as I finally spotted Seulgi running over to us, her eyes lighting up when she noticed I was standing with Hongjoong.

“Oh, Hongie!” She exclaimed and I almost choked on my drink as Hongjoong’s face fell, “Haven’t seen you in so long! Everything okay? You and Seonghwa haven’t fought again, right?!”

Seulgi sounded like a scrutinizing mother as she narrowed her eyes at Hongjoong, coming to a stop in front of him with her hands on her hips, “No! We’re fine, I’ve been busy with the company and couldn’t come, is all.”

“That better be true,” Seulgi huffed and leaned closer to the man, “I’ll be quizzing Seonghwa later too, and if your stories don’t match up…you’re in for an earful.”

“I feel like I missed out on a few chapters or something.” I butted in with a chuckle, and Hongjoong heaved a long sigh as Seulgi giggled.

“You should ask Seonghwa to tell you their little love story.” Seulgi suggested, and then raised her finger when Hongjoong went to interject, “It’s actually really cute and romantic, shut up, Hongie.”

“Stop calling me Hongie, Seulgi. I could be your father.” I coughed as I choked on the drink, which I have almost finished by now, and my eyes bulged as I stared at Hongjoong. How old was he?!

“He’s just joking, Y/N, don’t worry,” Seulgi rolled her eyes, “He could be our older brother or something, definitely not our father. Seonghwa wouldn’t date a wrinkly ass grumpy dwarf—”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from a dwarf herself.” I said underneath my breath, but both heard me, and I jumped when Hongjoong burst out laughing, flipping Seulgi off as she gaped at me with betrayal written all over her face.

“Suddenly, I understand why you and Wooyoung are together,” Hongjoong said once he had calmed down, “You’re even worse than him.”

“She really is a handful once she gets going.” I threw back the rest of the drink as Seulgi slapped my shoulder, making me sway. The lights suddenly started to further dim and Seulgi gasped, whirling around with excitement dancing all around her face.

“We have to go to the front!” She exclaimed as I placed my empty glass on the bar, and offered my arm to hook with hers as she looked back at Hongjoong and me with a wide grin, “Let’s go!”

As she started pulling me after herself, I felt a warm hand gently latch onto mine, and I looked back to see Hongjoong giving me a sheepish look, almost as if he was asking for permission. I grinned and held his hand back firmly, the three of us making it to the front, but not to the first row as it was already occupied by quite a handful of people. That wasn’t a problem, I feared I would’ve passed out if I had to stand right underneath Mingi and stare up at him as he sings his heart out.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong muttered once we let go of each other’s hands, “I know Seonghwa would’ve been disappointed if I didn’t tag along with you two.”

“You seem like a really lovely couple.” I didn’t feel like myself when I said such things, but it was the truth, they did look lovely.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong’s cat-like features softened, and I grinned back at him, “We met when he was interning for my company…”

“Oh,” I hummed, and then my eyes widened as it finally clicked why he looked slightly familiar, “Wait, you’re Kim Hongjoong?”

“Yeah, of Kim Enterprise.” He clarified, and my jaw hung open just slightly for the nth time tonight.

“Oh, my God, that’s—so cool?!” I tried to find the right words, but suddenly I realized that the sweet drink was stronger than it seemed so at first, “You’re an icon in the fashion industry, Mr. Kim, I’m an arts major myself and I have nothing to do with fashion, but I do look up to your work.”

“Call me Hongjoong, please, or else you make it sound like I’m a grandpa or something—”

“A father, really, you said it yourself.” Seulgi chimed in with a shit eating grin on her face as she crossed her arms over herself, looking up at the dark stage as movement was hearable. Hongjoong groaned and threw a glare at the side of Seulgi’s head, making me snort in amusement.

“Maybe I’ll stop giving Wooyoung cool clothes to perform in,” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at Seulgi, who swiftly turned back, gaping at the older guy, “He can thank his lovely girlfriend for it then.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

Trying to deescalate an unnecessary argument, I turned to give Hongjoong an amazed look, “You design the clothes they perform in?”

“Well, not really,” Suddenly, he looked quite proud of himself, “It’s mostly Seonghwa, I only give him advice here and there and supply him with the fabrics and whatnot that he needs for production.”

Oh, that was…quite the thing to do. Suddenly, I felt myself yearning for a relationship where both parties raise the other one up, teach each other how to get better, and support each other’s dreams. It was healthy, mature, comforting. A secure place, a safety net. Something I never had with Yunho, albeit understandably so as we were both teenagers while we dated, but it would’ve been nice if he didn’t almost completely break me while making me mistrust everyone and question their motives towards me, side effects that lingered even after all those years.

“You’re a good man, Hongjoong.” I found myself muttering as there were faint voices coming from up the stage, making me look over. Hongjoong hummed next to me, and then I felt him bump his shoulder against mine.

“Did Mingi finally ask you out?” Something in my system halted hearing Hongjoong’s question, brain short circuiting. Where did that question come from?

“I, uh, he—we’re just friends.” I tried to look nonchalant as I turned to face Hongjoong again, forcing a smile on my face. Yeah, we were good friends at that, besties as Mingi likes to call it. But…ignoring the fact that I’d be dating my ex’s best friend, would it really be so bad to give in to my curiosity? Lately, I failed to see the negative qualities I have first judged Mingi for, and I have realized I didn’t even hate him anymore. I don’t think I have ever actually hated him, I was blinded by my prejudice and held onto it for as long as I could. But the walls were rapidly crumbling, even more so after the day we spent at the café and at the Citadel, where Mingi—once again—proved to be a nice, understanding, funny, and yet calm guy, full of life. We were friends, but was that all that I wanted from him at this point?

Were these thoughts actually mine or had the pink drink finally gotten to me? I didn’t feel tipsy, albeit a little jittery, but for my peace of mind, I blamed it on the sweet drink. It made you think about things you have pushed to the very back of your mind, buried so deep nobody should know about them—myself included.

“Mingi is a good person, I don’t think you’ll find someone like him again.” The smile on Hongjoong’s lips was almost brotherly before it stretched wider, cat-like eyes warm and comforting. I took a deep breath and nodded my head at him in thanks wordlessly, not very keen of speaking up as I thought my voice would sound shaky. I had to divert the subject, all this Mingi talk was sending my mind into an overthinking frenzy, however, before any of us could speak up again, the lights went completely out, and the spotlights turned on at once, coating the stage in white light.

The crowd cheered loudly for Noir Zenith, especially the girls in the front row, and I found myself clapping along encouragingly with the people surrounding me. The stage was higher up than us, but you could easily step up on it if you wanted to, and the spotlights switched from a bright white to a dimmer orangey hue. Seonghwa sat at the drums to the left of the scene, Wooyoung more towards the front on the right, guitar around his shoulders and a microphone placed in front of him. Mingi stood in the middle, close to the edge of the stage, a huge smirk on his lips, sharp eyes narrowed and skimming over the crowd. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the Mingi I knew, he looked like someone else…like a rockstar ready to sing his lungs out and wove anyone that watched their performance.

“Good evening, Outlaw!” Mingi’s raspy voice resounded in the underground room, and everyone cheered loudly again. Seulgi was jumping up and down, grinning from ear to ear as she waved at Wooyoung, who had a faint blush on his cheeks. Hongjoong, who was a lot calmer than my best friend, stood smiling with his hands in his pockets, no doubt watching Seonghwa as the drummer sat back and winked our way. And I, well, I had my arms crossed over my chest, trying not to hyperventilate when Mingi’s eyes searched the crowd, and ultimately settled on my form, “We’ve prepared quite a few songs for you tonight.”

The crowd cheered again, less wildly than before, and you could hear more people coming down the stairs to watch them perform as silence settled around us for a second. I gulped and looked away when Mingi’s intense gaze became too much, the smirk seemingly etched onto his lips for now, “Some older ones and some newer ones as we work on more songs to play for you in the future. I know these days it’s getting even colder, but I thought we could warm ourselves up ith a song we haven’t performed in quite a while. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and I thought that perhaps we could charm the newcomers with the song that wooed some of our oldest fans, how do you feel about that, Outlaw?!”

The girls in the front row went crazy, their shrills piercing our ears, and I felt my eyes narrow as I looked towards them, a lump forming in my throat when I noticed they were Mingi’s fanclub from our university. The blonde girl stood out like a sore thumb, some banner in her hands, impatiently waiting for Mingi to look at her for her to show it off. I gulped as my eyes snapped back to Mingi, who licked his lips slowly, biting his lower lip and prolonging the charged silence, “Have you ever found a person so sweet you became addicted to them and never wanted to let them go? So sugary that you didn’t care if you got sick, because you’d still continue wanting them?”

The lights suddenly went out and everyone cheered, my heart beating so fast and loud in my ears, it made me fear that both Hongjoong and Seulgi would hear it. At last, the darkness remained as the soft tunes of a melody started playing, starting out quietly, almost as a whisper of a promise that your lover would tell you late at night in the confines of your bed. I could feel my heartbeat quicken from anticipation, and I couldn’t help but shuffle a little from left to right.

『You play a twisted little game

But I know in a way

You need to complicate』

The soft yellowy hue spotlight turned on just as the soft, siren-like voice flooded our ears, Seonghwa’s eyes closed as his lips were close to the microphone, drumsticks gathered in his hands as he sat on his stool, leaning forward to better access his microphone. His slightly raspy voice was pleasant to the ears, making it feel like a dream like flow. He was the only one you could see on the otherwise dark stage.

『Believe that though we never eat

We still know how to feed

We still know how to bleed, oh』

He articulated the words clearly, captivating the crowds attention immediately as his eyelashes slowly fluttered open, quickly finding Hongjoong as his lips twitched into a small smirk, his white teeth sharp as they peeked through his parted lips as he exhaled the end note, blending it into an airy whine that had Hongjoong gulping next to me as he was seemingly transfixed by his lover, unable to take his eyes off him.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlights around Seonghwa went out as the chorus came, suddenly now on Wooyoung as the instrumental became louder, Wooyoung’s voice a lot sharper and stronger than Seonghwa’s sultry and enchanting one. Wooyoung’s nose was scrunched up as he held onto the microphone stand with both hands, his sharp jaw working hard as his lines were a perfect mixture of breathy and sharp sounds.

『My arms keep you in the room

Barely let you move

Show me what you do, oh』

Similar to Seonghwa’s style, Wooyoung’s voice remained soft too, but higher in pitch and breathier than Seonghwa’s has been, veins protruding in his neck as he gave his all. Seulgi had her hands clutched together in front of herself, hanging onto every single note her boyfriend sang, and I felt myself tap my feet along to the beat and melody, softly nodding my head as Wooyoung’s eyes snapped open and swept over the crowd.

『Tonight we're second-guessed again

Let me wrap the chains

Addicted to the pain, oh』

Seulgi quietly clapped next to me as Wooyoung gazed at her almost longingly, grabbing his microphone off the stand to walk closer to the edge of the stage, the spotlight following him as Seulgi quietly gasped next to me, mouthing the words back to Wooyoung, probably knowing each of their songs by heart.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlight around Wooyoung went out again just as he leaned forward and over the of the stage, making Seulgi gasp loudly next to me as her hand shoot out to hold onto my arm. I gulped down the chuckle that threatened to escape as Seonghwa’s siren-like voice was back, wispy as he looked over the crowd with his big eyes, smirking much like Mingi had, making the chorus sound like it had been written for him, and him only.

『Do you wanna see how far it goes?

Do you wanna test me now, my love?

You must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily』

The soft sound of the music now became rougher as the spotlight on Seonghwa went out, and instead, Mingi, in the centre of the stage was illuminated, his outfit and hair making the girls cry out in the first row as the air caught in my throat, taken aback as his eyes were set already on me, drinking me up, taking in my reaction. His raspy voice was perfect as it matched the intensity of the song, picking up in harshness slightly at the ends, his eyebrows furrowing as I gulped, feeling as if I was on fire and unable to look away, almost as if Mingi’s voice and eyes had me frozen to my spot. Suddenly, I understood why Hongjoong and Seulgi were so taken by their partners.

『Things we buried low

Coming to the surface now, my love

You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, oh』

Suddenly the yellowy hue light was back on the stage, illuminating all three as Seonghwa and Wooyoung joined Mingi, their unique voices creating a harmony that had my arms covered in goosebumps as Seulgi whispered out a woah next to me, having me agree with her as I found their voices combined together even more powerful. Wooyoung’s higher tone carried the melodic line well, Seonghwa’s harmony with both Wooyoung and Mingi’s voice having you in awe of how well they worked together, and Mingi’s deep and raspy voice had a power that didn’t overshadow his bandmates’ voices, yet was distinct enough to hear it. Suddenly, as they got to the end of the line, the lights flickered for a second and the background melody was cut, their voices echoing in the underground room and having everyone on their toes.

『Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now』

And then at last, the lights flashed as the melody picked up, its build-up worth it every second as Seonghwa’s hands flew around fast as he played the drums, banging his head along to the beat, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he played the guitar with a passion that matched his personality, and I found myself holding my breath as Mingi’s harsh and deep voice matched the instrumental perfectly, carrying every single emotion he felt. His nose was scrunched up and his eyebrows strewn together as he held the microphone tightly in his hand, leaning over as he sang his lungs out, gesticulating with his hands, having the crowd go wild for him and the boys. Without realizing, I was cheering along with everyone else, my veins burning with excitement as Mingi stood up tall, throwing his head back as his gloved hand was fisted, his sharp eyes closing and feeling the music like only he could when singing, his voice strong and defined when he needed it to be. And then, I felt myself grin from ear to ear as he faced the crowd again, looking straight ahead, our gazes meeting as I mouthed back the words without even realizing I was doing so.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

Wooyoung joined Mingi again, his voice slightly more prominent as Mingi eased up his vocal chords, becoming less harsh and tense, carrying quietly alongside Wooyoung’s as Seonghwa continued passionately playing the drums, bottom lip between his teeth as he looked up and at his bandmates, a grin appearing on his lips as he watched them sing together. Mingi placed his microphone back onto the stand, cradling it in his hands still as he leaned close to it, barely whispering the words Wooyoung sang clearly, his volatile timbre offering a culminating end to the song as suddenly their voices cut out and the harsh instruments came to an abrupt stop, melody the same as at the beginning of the song. The lights flickered once again and as I gazed up at Mingi, a small smile formed on his lips, and the Mingi I know slipped through for a second, looking happier than a child on Christmas day. I chuckled and cheered along loudly with the crowd as the song came to a calming end, only now aware of how fast my heart was beating. Hongjoong and Seulgi joined in on the clapping, and I heard Seulgi chuckle next to me as Mingi thanked the crowd, the lights changing to a soft blue hue as Seonghwa set the rhythm for their next song.

“What?” I asked as I turned my head to look at an amused looking Seulgi.

“You keep lying to yourself about Mingi, bitch.” I gave Seulgi a look that very much so told her to shut up, and as I wanted to verbalize the same thought, she didn’t give me the chance as her body jolted along to the new song, “Oh, my God, this is my favourite song!”

            As Noir Zenith continued to perform, I felt myself get thirstier and thirstier, throat burning and forcing me to excuse myself and head to the bar to drink some water, however, Hongjoong said he’d follow after me as he was getting tired of standing in the crowd and getting pushed around. Seulgi told us to go on as she’d stay there, wanting to stay close by as the performance was close to coming to its end as it’s been twenty-five minutes since they started playing. Much like when going inside the crowd, I allowed Hongjoong to hold my hand as we made our way over to the bar, apologising if we stepped on anyone’s foot, and I giggled when Hongjoong ran fully into a girl that seemed to be in a hurry to get to the front of the stage. Hongjoong shook his head and we let go of each other’s hands as we finally made it to the bar, him taking a seat on a stool as he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“These fangirls are crazy; I can’t wear any fancy shoes to these performances because they keep stepping on me.” I chuckled as I leaned against the bar, waving at the bartender to come over when he was free.

“I know, you should see them at university.” I huffed as the bartender started walking over, “those crazy baboons swarm Mingi like he’s a God or something, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” The bartender grinned happily at us; voice raised high to talk over Mingi’s deep voice reverberating in the speakers.

“Uh,” I looked at Hongjoong, not knowing what the pink drink was called, “I don’t know if you remember what Mingi ordered for me, but it was some pink drink and it was really sweet?”

“Sure, got it, Hongjoong?” I was rather surprised that the bartender knew Hongjoong’s name, “The usual?”

“Sure, throw in more ice cubes though, it’s sweltering hot in here.” The bartender chuckled as Hongjoong fanned himself with his hand, and I had to agree as I finally could take my jacket off. The relief was instant, and I sighed as I placed it around the back of the stool Hongjoong sat on, turning around as I leaned back against the bar to watch Mingi from back here. The lights were a soft pink up on the stage and Wooyoung was jumping up and down as he played his guitar, Mingi’s fingers playing fast as he played the bass, while Seonghwa’s voice was light but piercing as he finished up the song, standing up and raising his drumsticks in the air once it came to an end. The crowd cheered and I clapped from the bar as the bartender served us our drinks, and as I reached for my pocket to take out some money, Hongjoong beat me to it and paid for our drinks.

“Hongjoong.” I gave him a stare, but he quickly brushed me off and took a contemplative sip of his, probably, pricey whiskey, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Honey, if a man wants to spoil you, let him, you’re not losing any rights to your feminism.” My jaw dropped a little bit before laughter bubbled through my lips, and Hongjoong grinned as he turned halfway around to watch the band perform as I leaned against the bar again.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” I muttered as Mingi huffed into the microphone loudly, hyping up the crowd even more. His eyes searched the crowd for a second, and I raised my sweet pink drink in a cheers motion for him to spot me. He smirked and then he was focused back on singing, crouching down and letting the front row girls touch him. I snickered and took a long sip of the tasty drink, watching his every move as Hongjoong rhythmically tapped his foot against the ground.

“You are an open book, honey, it’s rather easy to read you.” Hongjoong said, sounding amused, and he snickered when I looked at him wide eyed. That’s certainly not something I hear often as people frequently call me unapproachable and off-putting, rather intimidating and irritating. To be fair, I do it on purpose so that idiots will leave me alone.

“You’re like…only the second person to say that, Hongie.” Hongjoong groaned, and I grinned as I looked back at the stage, watching as Mingi leaned a little more forward, reaching out and tilting the blonde girl’s chin up as he whispered the lyrics sensually, making my eyebrows furrow. If my grip tightened around my glass, nobody had to know.

“You can call me anything else but Hongie, please, that girl-friend of yours gives me nightmares, I swear.” I was too focused on Mingi and that blonde girl to react in any way to what Hongjoong said. Mingi was smirking triumphantly as the blonde girl screamed out his name, jumping up and down as she held the banner up for Mingi. I wished to see what was written on it, but at the same time I didn’t.

“Seulgi is the kindest and nicest person I know,” I said at last as I cleared my throat, trying to gulp down the sudden ball that seemed to clog it, “She likes you a lot and this is her way of showing it. If you let her know you don’t like it, she’ll never stop calling you Hongie, I fear.”

Hongjoong groaned and took a large gulp of his whiskey, prompting me to do so with my drink as well, jaw clenching when that blonde chick wouldn’t stop screaming. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, licking my dry lips to remind myself that Mingi has his baboons that would literally do anything he asked them to do, and that means nothing. Maybe he likes the attention and compliments, but I’ve never actually seen him give them more attention than was necessary. Perhaps he wasn’t even too keen of them, but I figured it must feel nice when someone supports your performances so ardently. I cleared my throat and pursed my lips, leaning back on my elbows as I rested them against the bar. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at me curiously, but I ignored his eyes on me as my eyes bore into Mingi’s, who was suddenly looking over. I tried to control my expression as the lights were fully turned back on, their performance coming to an end for tonight.

“Outlaw, you were the best!” Mingi called out, grinning from ear to ear as he did a little jump, almost as if he was celebrating a win, “Your energy is always the craziest, thank you for your continuous support and I can’t wait to see you all here again! Tell your friends and cousins, bring them over next time! I was Fix On for the night.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung also joined Mingi at the front, Seonghwa’s arm going around Mingi’s shoulders as Wooyoung grinned and grabbed Mingi’s microphone out of his hand after he stuck his tongue out at him, “And this was your little Woo for the night, and don’t forget, only hot people listen to Noir Zenith!”

The whole room erupted into cheers and I snorted as Hongjoong groaned, holding his head in his hands as we both took sips of our drinks at the same time, “That guy is so embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I think he’s worse than Mingi.” Hongjoong and I burst into giggles as the microphone was handed to Seonghwa, who had a wide smile on his lips, his temples visible sweaty despite the off-shoulder blouse he was wearing.

“Thank you for your continuous support, we are forever grateful. I hope you enjoyed our performance tonight, and I hope to see your familiar faces at our next performance too, at which we transpire to do even better. I was Hwa for the night.” And then, he bowed deeply, prompting his two bandmates to follow suit. I hummed and looked over to Hongjoong, who was smiling proudly.

“You’re so into him, dude.” I chuckled, nudging him with my elbow, “But I get it why, he’s impossibly polite. You seem like a dude who likes order and whatnot”

“And he’s easily flustered too.” Hongjoong muttered under his breath as the crowd clapped and cheered for them one last time before they got off the stage, soft music playing in the background as other people went up on the stage to take off their instruments and to bring in the DJ’s table and mixers. I watched as the fangirls swarmed them at the foot of the stairs leading down the stage, and despite not being too many, they certainly made it seem so with how in the boys faces they got, giggling and squealing at everything they could. I watched as the boys signed whatever they were handed, and then I spotted Seulgi’s colourful retro dress as she sat down on the edge of the stage, close to Wooyoung, watching him converse with the girls with a smile on her face. Seonghwa, however, was the quickest to dip out and after swiftly engaging with the girls, he was already speed-walking off towards us, great relief visible on his face. Seonghwa wore a denim skirt tonight which reached just below his knees, cowboy boots covering his shins, a denim choker around his neck bringing the attention onto his long limb. He easily turned heads, both female and male. He was simply gorgeous with his long hair swept back by a black hair band.

“Thirsty, my love?” Hongjoong asked with a smile as Seonghwa reached us and waved at the bartender, who was quick to hand Seonghwa a bottle of water. He took it without a word and downed it quickly, groaning loudly as he patted his temples dry. I smiled and made space for him as I took another sip of my drink, eyes settling back on Mingi, who was the one swarmed most by the fangirls. The blonde was right by his arm, talking overly fast and gesticulating to him with her hands as Mingi nodded along and signed a few more things the other girls were handing him.

“I thought they’d never let me go.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded a little raw as he sighed long, looking towards the fangirls, “They are more tiring than the performances. I am grateful to them, of course, but I wish they knew how to keep their distance. I don’t know how Mingi keeps up with them without feeling bothered by them.”

“He thrives under attention.” My tone sounded bitter, and I quickly took a large gulp of my sweet drink and tried not to blush when I felt the eyes of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa on myself, looking curious but also amused, “I mean, he probably appreciates his fans—a lot.”

I knew my voice sounded strained as the blonde girl threw her head back and laughed loudly at whatever the hell Mingi was saying, and I couldn’t have felt more thankful for Seulgi and Wooyoung finally walking our way. I needed her by my side as I felt the alcohol slowly hit me, that pink thing stronger than a full-on Vodka shot. Realizing that I didn’t want to see Mingi and that blonde chick anymore, I turned my body sideways to face Hongjoong and Seonghwa instead, and was taken aback when I felt something bitter spring through my body. They had their faces leaned close together as Hongjoong had a protective arm around Seonghwa’s waist, fingers very apparently digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his off-shoulder blouse, and Seonghwa’s bottom lip was between his teeth as they seemed to be having a staring contest. I took the straw between my teeth and then gulped down almost the whole drink in one go, grinning fakely when Seulgi and Wooyoung finally reached us.

“Ey, hands off you horn dogs!” Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong’s thigh rather loudly, making my eyes widen and almost choke on my drink as Hongjoong’s head snapped in Wooyoung’s direction, glaring harshly at him. If I were Wooyoung…I probably would’ve dropped dead, but it seemed so he was fearless as he only grinned back challengingly at Hongjoong.

“Babe,” Seulgi chastised and gripped Wooyoung’s arm, yanking him a little backwards, “sorry, he’s still full of adrenaline, don’t mind him.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then turned towards the bartender as he held up two fingers at him. Seeing what I could only assume was him was asking for drinks, I quickly emptied my glass and motioned towards my glass with a wide grin. The bartender nodded in my direction, and then his back was turned to us as he started preparing our drinks. I placed the empty glass on the bar and faced the others again, plastering a smile on my face.

“You say that because you haven’t walked in on them when Seonghwa was getting—”

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa screeched, eyes bulging out as he sprung forward, muffling Wooyoung’s mouth with his palm, “Shut up!”

Wooyoung was still going off despite his mouth being muffled, and Seulgi looked mortified as she apologized quickly, punching Wooyoung’s arm.

“I’m going to break you in half one day, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong held a menacing finger out towards Wooyoung, eyes narrowed as our drinks were served. Seonghwa took one and handed it to Wooyoung, then gave me mine, and took the other one for himself.

“Like you broke Seonghwa—”

“Enough!” Seonghwa cried out again, cheeks flushing a deep red, making me and Seulgi chuckle as I handed her my drink to take a sip. She scrunched her nose as she took a sniff and then ultimately gagged upon taking a sip.

“What is this atrocity?!” She exclaimed, grabbing Wooyoung’s drink to flush mine down with, traitor.

“It’s good!” I exclaimed, defending my sugary drink, “You just hate sweet drinks, idiot.”

“You could’ve warned me.” She mumbled, nuzzling up against Wooyoung as Seonghwa allowed Hongjoong to pull him in between his legs. I sighed and looked down as I took another sip of my drink, accidentally looking Mingi’s way. I gulped down the sweet liquid a little harsher then intended as I was greeted by the image of Mingi being alone with the blonde girl, the two of them giggling about something. The girl was twirling her atrocious hair around her fingers, batting her eyelashes at Mingi as she reached up with her other hand to touch Mingi’s platinum blonde hair. I scoffed under my breath and felt my blood boil as Mingi reached out too, touching her hair in a similar way, making the girl blush and push at his exposed chest in a flirty way.

“You think the DJ will play good music?” I heard Seulgi ask the others as my eyes remained on the two blondes, definitely trying to ignore the way my nose flared at each exhale of mine. I didn’t intend on finishing my third drink so fast, and the way my head started pulsating was a sign to slow down, but I couldn’t care less right now. The girl suddenly leaned into Mingi’s side and I placed my empty glass a little bit too harshly down onto the bar—okay, I slammed it down. If the others glanced at me curiously, neither said anything.

“Yeah, he’s an uprising DJ, he’s pretty talented.” Wooyoung said and offered Seulgi his drink again. I took a deep breath to try and level my voice because I knew otherwise everyone could hear I was pissed off.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I spoke up, voice still harsh and cold. Everyone froze for a second, Seulgi’s eyes looking at me with confusion written all over it.

“Right behind the stage.” Seonghwa explained with a soft smile, and pointed right past Mingi and the blonde chick. Great. Now I had to walk past them, what a fucking amazing thing to do. But I needed to go to the bathroom to get away from everyone and everything for a second. My cheeks had started burning from the alcohol and my jaw was tense as I tried to avoid looking at anyone for too long.

“Thanks, can you look over my jacket while I’m gone?” I asked Hongjoong and he nodded with a hum. I muttered another thanks and then squared my shoulders, willing my face to convey zero expression as I started walking towards the bathroom. The stage had been changed and set up for the DJ by now, the lights getting adjusted as more people gathered down in this smaller room, and I watched as Mingi and the girl got ushered a little more to the side of the stage. Yeah, that was completely fine, I had no issues walking past them. Why was I even reacting like this?

Mingi was just talking to his fan—flirting and flattering her, no doubt—and I was completely fine with that as his bestie. I was completely fine with the blonde bitch brushing up against him, or laughing loudly at whatever he was saying, or touching Mingi every other second, or throwing her hair back and pushing her breasts out for him to see better—yes, because I was his bestie, his friend, I was completely unbothered by it all and even managed to plaster a smile on my face as I walked past them, greeting them with a small nod and chuckle—yeah, no, perhaps I did that in a parallel universe, but in this one, I kept looking straight ahead as Mingi spotted me walking towards them. He very insistently kept looking at me despite me ignoring his and the blonde one’s existence as I stormed past them, feeling like I couldn’t breathe until I was inside the small bathroom.

I hurried over to the sink and turned it on, washing my hands with soap and then rinsing them off with cold water, then I pated my cheeks wet, hoping that the cold water would cool them off. I kept my head down and took deep breaths, finally aware of the way my body felt hot due to the alcohol that I have downed way too fast, and how my head was spinning a little bit now. The drinks were getting to me and they were making me act up—act out of character. This was certainly not me, at least not a very rational me. Mingi could talk to whomever he wanted to and he can do whatever he wants to. I gripped the edge of the sink and looked up in the mirror, finding my cheeks flushed and my lips now a darker red from the lip-gloss that had long come off, but its tint remained. I sighed loudly, shaking my head at myself as my heart kept beating fast.

“You can’t be serious right now, bitch.” I hissed at myself, frowning, “You must get your shit together and stop acting like…whichever way I’m reacting. This isn’t cool, I’m a grown-ass woman, and he’s my friend. God, I’m so pathetic, I can’t even. Get it together, woman!”

I huffed and pointed a finger at myself threateningly, realizing I haven’t checked if anyone was inside the stools. Oh well, what I did wasn’t so unusual or disturbing to happen in the girl’s bathroom. I jumped up and down for a few seconds, wriggling out my arms and patting my cheeks one last time as I readjusted my tank top as it had ridden up and I took off towards the door. However, upon opening it and stepping outside, I was greeted by Mingi leaning against the wall. I froze as the door closed behind myself, pushing me a little forward and I grunted, standing up tall as Mingi’s sharp eyes fell on me. Somehow, I got déjà vu due to our current predicament. Mingi’s face was unreadable and I took my bottom lip between my teeth before I decided to just walk off, unable to say anything to him. But, adding to the déjà vu feeling, he stopped me from leaving as he reached out, gently holding me back by my exposed bicep. I shivered at the contact, his hand oddly cool against my warm flesh, ring decorated fingers pressing into my skin.

“Doll, is everything alright?” His voice was soft and his unreadable mask slipped as his eyebrows furrowed in worry, and I gulped, trying to bite back the reproach sitting on my tongue, but the alcohol made that impossible.

“Do you call her doll too?” My tone was cold as I turned my head to look back up at Mingi, and he looked visibly confused as he came even closer, forcing me to turn around and face him. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for his answer.

“Call who doll?” Mingi asked, sounding clueless, pissing me off even more as I rolled my eyes.

“The blonde girl, who else, Mingi.” I snapped and yanked my bicep out of his hold, Mingi’s visible confusion turning into befuddlement.

“She’s just a fan, I don’t call her anything—”

“Yeah,” I grinned fakely, cutting him off, “I know. She’s one of your baboons, the one who absolutely loves throwing herself at you. Really sweet, lovely.”

“Y/N,” Mingi lowered his voice, stepping so close our hands brushed together, and I gulped as I averted my eyes from his, not used to the platinum blonde sharpening his features so much just yet, “have I angered you?”

“Yes, you have.” I huffed out before I could stop myself, crossing my arms in front of my chest in a defensive way as I looked up in his eyes, “Because you ask me to come watch your performance and I come, and I even enjoy it. And you buy me a drink and then you sing all those songs like they were meant for me, written about me or whatever, but then—then you’re out there trying to—I don’t know where you’re trying to get at with that girl, but I—I—”

There was a lump in my throat and something tight squeezing around my lungs as I started breathing heavier, cheeks burning as Mingi’s face suddenly went blank. I hated it when he did that, when he didn’t let me read his emotions. I needed to know what he was thinking right now, and as I opened my mouth to call him out, he spoke up gently, “Doll, are you jealous?”

I huffed and stepped back, annoyed by his stupid assumptions of what I was feeling like. What did he know? And since when did he fathom, I’d be jealous because of him? Feeling jealous over such thing implied that I had feeling that were more than friendly, and I—was I jealous?

“No, I’m—why would I be?” I closed my eyes and shook my head, worsening the thumping of my head by doing that, “I don’t know.”

Mingi’s lips slowly slipped into an understanding smile, “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” I snapped and ran my fingers through my hair as I turned my back to him, “I shouldn’t be jealous and I don’t even know if that’s what I’m feeling, I—Mingi, I always fuck up everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Mingi scoffed as his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t approach me, but he reluctantly reached out and held my hand, intertwining our fingers as my heart started beating even wilder than before, “I won’t talk to her anymore tonight, and whatever you felt, you can take your time tomorrow and think it through, but right now, we’re here to have fun, okay?”

“Fuck, okay.” I groaned and squeezed Mingi’s hand before I released it, pulling the hem of my tank top down again, out of habit, and then I walked back to our friends with Mingi following closely after me, the first beats of the DJ’s mix dropping.

            Somewhere along the night, the shots had gotten to a number I couldn’t care to count anymore and as it had passed midnight, I was positively on the fine line between tipsiness and drunkenness. The DJ played good music, a mixture of retro and newer music, playing hits loved by everyone and I found myself in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by mostly Seulgi and Wooyoung as Hongjoong and Seonghwa often came and went, excusing themselves to fresh air a little bit too often. Wooyoung would mouth a few times that they are definitely going for a quickie, but one sharp look from Hongjoong managed to scare the goofball into silence and Seulgi made sure to keep him busy whenever Seonghwa would grin shyly and motion towards the exit. And despite being invited by Mingi, the man in question was nowhere to be seen.

It bothered me—of course it did—but the buzzing underneath my skin and the swirling lights of the disco ball managed to preoccupy me as my head seemed to swirl similarly to the disco ball each time I looked up. I knew if Mingi said he wouldn’t talk to the blondie again he probably meant it, but I still couldn’t bring myself to fully believe it as I couldn’t catch a glimpse of neither whenever I squinted my eyes to look at the blurry faces in the crowd surrounding me. And Mingi stood out like a sore thumb with his platinum blonde hair now, so if I couldn’t see him, he probably wasn’t here. Which was fucking annoying and I didn’t want to party anymore, but this Chan guy that approached me probably an hour ago did a good job at keeping me put and entertained. He was slightly shorter than me, but I couldn’t find myself to care as he was funny and actually sweet, looking out for me and sending guys away if they knocked into me or tried to dance with me. At first, we bonded over our love for colour theory and I was quick to find out he was an arts major, a freshman, quite full with life and eager to experience everything our university had to offer. I didn’t want to crush his dreams, so I stayed silent about how shitty our professors could be or about the overflowing assignments and projects they’d regularly hand out to us. But sure, university is fucking cool!

Perhaps half an hour ago, or maybe twenty minutes ago or maybe only ten? —who know, my fuzzy brain couldn’t tell at that point—the goofy dance Chan and I were at had turned into rather…well, serious. The genre of music had drastically changed and the Latino beats allowed for us to put in our sexy moves, and all of a sudden, I found his arms around my middle and mine around his shoulders as we swayed our hips in sync, giggling and laughing whenever I managed to step on his toes. He was respectful and didn’t attempt to get closer than it was necessary, nor had his hands travelled lower than it was acceptable, and I was surprised to find myself comfortable in his embrace. Seulgi and Wooyoung had disappeared not long ago, apparently needing a breather and at the same time looking for Hongjoong and Seonghwa too—no word about Mingi, maybe he had gone home already. Who the fuck cares?!

“Have I told you your outfit looks good or am I drunk enough that I have forgotten all about it?!” Chan shouted over the music, lips close to my ear as I swayed my hips a little slower, a giggle bubbling past my lips.

“You have! Like—five times already!” I answered back, laughing louder when Chan’s cheeks flushed redder.

“I am officially drunk then!” He said back, looking really embarrassed, and I pinched his cute cheek without much thought.

“You’ve said that too before!” I said and Chan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “You’re cute!”

“Really?!” His eyes lit up and I nodded with a wide grin, pinching his cheek again as the beat became slower, our hips swaying together, matching the rhythm.

“Really!” Before I could say anything else to him, a figured towered over us from behind Chan, and suddenly, his body was pulled away from mine, making my eyebrows furrow. And when I looked up, I became even more confused as I stopped dancing and stared up at an unimpressed looking Mingi.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mingi’s deep voice vibrated over the loud music as his grip tightened into Chan’s black shirt, and the poor guy looked quite alarmed.

“I was just dancing with Y/N!” He exclaimed, sounding rather small compared to Mingi’s booming tone.

His eyes suddenly snapped onto me and I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “What are you doing, doll?!”

Chan seemed to freeze up, very clearly misreading the situation due to Mingi’s use of the nickname. This guy couldn’t real, he can’t be doing this! As Mingi’s eyes bore into mine, I glared up at him defiantly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as somebody from behind pushed me slightly forward.

“You can go on your merry way, buddy.” Mingi was suddenly looking down at Chan, releasing his t-shirt and tapping his shoulder way too harshly. My eyes widened as poor Chan looked embarrassed, and that was all I needed to step closer to Mingi and jab his exposed chest with my finger.

“What is your problem?!” I shouted over the music, my glare deepening when the usual blank expression slipped onto Mingi’s face, “You leave me on my own the whole night after you invited me here to come. You don’t even tell me where you are going so that maybe I don’t wonder the whole night whether you have left or not, and then you come over and try to send away the guy I’ve been quite enjoying myself with?!”

Mingi’s jaw clenched as he grabbed my finger and lowered it down from his chest, stepping closer to me before his sharp eyes were directed onto Chan, narrowing into warning slits. Chan gulped and scratched the back of his head, throwing me a glance that was apologetic before he stepped back, getting swept up by the crowd as Mingi turned to face me, still looking as menacing and intimidating as he had been when he looked at Chan. I rolled my eyes and stepped back, shaking my head as I had enough of the crowd and needed fresh air too. I wanted to find Seulgi and tell her what’s happened, and maybe grab another drink which would tip me over the edge of tipsiness, and then I could say I was officially drunk like Chan has been saying. Thinking of Chan made me only angrier, and I wasn’t too nice as I pushed my way through the crowd, oblivious to Mingi following after me swiftly. When I finally made it to the edge of the dance floor, out of the pushy crowd, I felt fingers wrap around my bicep—again—and hold me back from walking off. I huffed loudly and whirled around, glaring up at Mingi as he opened his mouth to speak—and positively piss me off more.

“You’re drunk, Y/N,” He started, his eyebrows furrowed and looking less irritated and more worried now, “You should probably go home—”

“I don’t want to go home!” I tried to yank my arm free but Mingi’s grip tightened around my bicep more, and I huffed, “And I don’t want you to tell me what to do after you left me on my own the whole night, asshole!”

“Then what do you want to do?!” Mingi exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing more as he leaned down to be eye level with me. I clenched my jaw and raised my eyebrows at him.

“I want to dance.”

“Then dance.”

“You made Chan go away and I don’t want to dance on my own.”

“Then I’ll dance with you.”

I opened my mouth to tell him off again for being an asshole, but paused as his words registered in my brain at the speed of a snail. Did he just propose to dance with me?

“Bet.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, yanking my bicep free as I stepped back and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Bet.” Mingi echoed and then suddenly, he was dancing to the Latino songs that were still being played, swaying his hips in a way Chan definitely couldn’t. I gulped and felt a little disheartened as I needed a second to start dancing, glaring at Mingi as I narrowed my eyes at him, unimpressed by his stupid behaviour. But since he’s an asshole, he ignored me and ran his fingers through his hair and twirled around, extending his hand for me to take. I rolled my eyes and turned around, throwing my arms up in the air as I let the music consume me, only to feel movement around me as Mingi magically appeared in front of me, hand extended again.

I groaned but gave in, placing my hand in his and was instantly yanked closer to his body, a ravishing grin on his lips, crooked front teeth peeking through as suddenly he was making us dance a lot more animatedly to the song, in a way Chan certainly couldn’t. Since we were by the edge of the dance floor, we had plenty of space to twirl around as we wished to, and Mingi definitely took advantage of that as he led the dance, mixing in moves that had me tightly holding onto his shoulders as I didn’t know the steps. It was hilarious and entertaining, and I soon found myself relaxed again and laughing as Mingi was grinning from ear to ear, holding me firmly and twirling me around every now and then.

But the moves started getting repetitive and I was losing the rhythm as my feet got tired, and without much thinking, I took my hand out of Mingi’s and instead flushed myself against him as I threw both my arms around his neck, smiling up at him as he froze. After hesitating for a second, he smiled back and I felt his big hands rest on my hips as I nodded in content and started swaying my hips to the rhythm. Mingi didn’t move much at the beginning, almost as if he was afraid of doing something or grinding up accidentally on me—not that I would have minded—but then the music changed and his eyes lit up, and I figured it was a song he liked, because suddenly his grip tightened on my waist and his hips were moving expertly, not so shy to grind up against me anymore. I chuckled and threw my head back as Mingi finally reciprocated my fun, not really having to watch each other to anticipate the next move. Somehow, it just came naturally, and as I looked up in his eyes, I felt drawn in by them, arms tightening around his neck as his own ones slipped around my lower back into a tight embrace, our bodies moving like that without neither of us wanting to pull away. And as the lights flashed against Mingi’s platinum hair, my eyes ran over his features again, completely taken by how gorgeous this man was. Involuntarily, my eyes stopped on his plump lips and my eyebrows furrowed as I bit my lower lip, suddenly reminded of that near kiss in my room, in my bed.

What would it have felt like? What does he taste like? Are his lips as soft as they seem to be? The breath I inhaled got stuck in my throat as suddenly Mingi was leaning down, his lips closer and closer to mine as I continued looking at him, throat dry from both the anticipation and the lack of water my body was crying out for. Out of pure instinct, my fingers had a mind of their own as they travelled up and tangled into the strands on the back of his head, pulling his head down and closer, our lips hovering close, but not quite touching yet. I gulped and swiftly looked up into Mingi’s eyes, which have significantly darkened and were focused onto my own lips. But as I raised my head, silently asking him to just finally kiss me, he did the same thing he did when we were watching Ten Things I Hate About You. Instead of his plush lips pressing against mine fully, they pressed against the corner of my mouth, making me shakily exhale as he pulled back, gazing into my eyes deeply. My fingers tightened in his hair and Mingi winced for a second before he exhaled too, clearing his throat.

“You’re drunk, I’m taking you home.” He said, and suddenly I felt really disappointed. I don’t know what I wanted to hear, but those words certainly weren’t it. It didn’t take much for me to understand why I was feeling suddenly so bitter.

“I don’t want to go home!” I told him and released him, detaching myself from his warm and comforting body.

“Doll, it’s late—”

“I’m not going home, Mingi.” I snapped and went to walk to the bar, but Mingi caught my wrist.

“Y/N, I only want what’s good for you, please.” He pleaded, eyes softening as I shook my head stubbornly, trying to pry my wrist out of his firm grip.

“No, Mingi.” I raised my eyebrows at him and groaned when he wouldn’t release me.

“Okay, I won’t take you home,” I narrowed my eyes, waiting for the catch, “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” And yes, I did, very much so.

“Then let’s go.” Mingi was suddenly grinning, and I felt giddy as he veered us towards the bar so that I could take my jacket from the bartender, Minseok, who promised to keep it safe and dry behind the bar. Mingi waved at Minseok and he grinned upon understanding what we needed from him, and then disappeared as he crouched, my jacket in his hands once he stood tall again. Mingi took my jacket from him and thanked him, then gave it to me as we started walking towards the stairs that led upstairs.

“I’ll text Seulgi that we’re leaving!” I told him as I wore my jacket, fishing my phone out of my jean’s pocket. Mingi walked behind me and steadied me when I almost missed a step up the stairs, and as we made it to the top, I unlocked my phone and clicked on the chat with Seulgi and I raised my phone with the intention of sending her a photo. Mingi noticed and quickly grinned as I puckered my lips at Seulgi, and then I took the photo and sent it to her, saying that we were leaving, and for her and Wooyoung to look out for each other.

The night air was chilly as we somehow wrestled our way out of the pub, and I swung our intertwined hands between each other as Mingi led the way down the lit-up street.

“Where are we going?” I asked curiously as I realized he was holding his car keys. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him drink tonight anything besides water and some blue coloured juice. Green apple, probably.

“It’s a surprise.” Mingi winked and unlocked his old Honda, opening the door for me as I giggled and quickly hopped inside, curious as to where we were going.

At least we weren’t going home just yet, the night is still young! And the moon is beautiful.

❱❱ Next chapter

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A/N: A quick last note to show you y/n, Seulgi, and Hongjoong's outfits I have used for inspo as Seonghwa and Wooyoung's were improvised by moi lol. Also, before I do that...by the time Mingi went blonde in this story, the real Mingi went back to having black hair and I'm SO tempted to let him dye it back in this story too, BUT it's already become part of our upcoming plot so I can't lol cries but it's fine! My bestie was sick of me yapping her ears off about me wanting Mingi to go back to his natural color lol, I just don't like blonde dudes no matter how good it looked on him, I missed my black haired Mingi<3, okkk bye

[wheeboo]

in bloom | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you struggle to tell your husband something that can make or break your relationship. PAIRING. idol!husband!kim mingyu x afab!reader (ft. best friend!seulgi) GENRE. fluff, established relationship, idol au, pregnancy au, comfort WARNINGS. reader is pregnant and has female reproductive organs, vague mentions of intimate relations, mentions of fatigue and throwing up, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

requested from anon: idol!husband!mingyu x reader where you find out ur pregnant, and youre nervous to tell mingyu <3

notes: this is my second time ever writing a pregnancy au (first time on this blog), so... i hope u enjoy! i had too much fun with this lol

Being in the bathroom has never been this suffocating before. It's embarrassing, because literally anyone can walk in and hear the way you've been hacking over the toilet the past couple of days just like at your workplace, but the sudden bursts of nausea leaves you with no other option. You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, and finally manage to stand up straight.

The little stick trembles in your hand, and as you peer down at the result, you swear you can feel the world around you completely stop. The two unmistakable lines are staring down at you through the small window of the test. You blink a few times, shaking the test even, as if hoping the lines will disappear or change, but they only remain.

It takes a moment for the reality to sink in. You're going to be a parent. A million thoughts race through your mind, and amidst the chaos, one question stands out: how do you share this with Mingyu?

Your husband is an idol, for God's sake. You've already seen the intensity of his schedule, the rigorous demands of his career, and the constant scrutiny from the public that has negatively affected other celebrities too. It feels as if you're going to be dropping a bombshell down on him.

You both always been careful when being intimate. And though you've had your conversations together about what it would be like to start a family, you never imagined it would happen quite like this, right at this moment when your husband has been reaching the peak of his career and is constantly in the spotlight. The timing couldn't be more unexpected, yet here you are, holding the proof of the little life growing within you.

Bringing the test out of sight, you splash some water on your face, taking a moment to collect yourself, before calmly making your way out of your bathroom, even with the anxious pounding of your heart feeling like it's bouncing off the walls of your place. And then suddenly, you're met with Seulgi running up to you from your living room.

"Well?" she asks, hands clasping together in excitement and an eager smile spreading across her face.

You turn towards her, and for some reason seeing the way your best friend's eyes are literally glowing with curiosity and anticipation almost makes you want to pull her in for a hug and sob into her shoulders. But you can't do that𑁋you're still struggling to process everything.

Instead, you take the pregnancy test out and show it to her.

Seulgi's eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth in disbelief.

"No way! Are you serious?" she whispers loudly, staring down at the test just to make sure.

"Yeah, I..." You take a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Seulgi just squeals, unable to contain her joy. She pulls you into a tight hug that makes you let out a groan at the sudden pressure over your tired body, yet you feel a sense of relief and happiness sharing this moment with someone close.

"Sorry! Oh my gosh, I feel like crying. This is𑁋I'm so happy for you!" Seulgi exclaims as she lets you go, holding your shoulders at arm's length and bouncing up and down happily.

The two of you share a knowing smile with each other. And as Seulgi catches sight of the way your smile doesn't seem as bright as hers, the way it doesn't seem to reach to your ears, she takes a step back, concern etching across her face.

Seulgi takes your hands in hers. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You let out a sigh. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed, you know? It's a lot to take in, especially considering Mingyu's schedule and everything."

Seulgi squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'm sure he will be over the moon, Y/N. He loves you more than anything."

Her words seem to offer comfort, but a lingering worry tugs at the edges of your thoughts. Seulgi senses your unease and pulls you into this time, a gentle hug.

"Listen," she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your back comfortingly. "Mingyu is your husband. He loves you, and this is something you both have talked about before, right? You both will figure things out, so don't worry too much, okay?"

Feeling a bit more reassured, you manage a small smile. "You're right. I... I just need to find the right time to tell him."

When you both pull away from each other, Seulgi just grins.

"You'll know when the time is right, Y/N," she says, taking another glance down at the test out of excitement once again. "I'm going to be an auntie and spoil that little one rotten!"

You only let out a laugh and playfully shove her away, a lightness in your heart gradually replacing the worry in your bones.

It's been hard trying to conceal away the fatigue whenever you and Mingyu wake up together in the morning and the subtle changes in your eating habits, but you've managed to keep it under wraps so far, constantly playing it off as stress or tiredness, though you do marvel at how your husband is just a little more oblivious than you thought.

Seulgi has been nagging you almost every day to take it easy and to share the news with Mingyu. And as the days pass, the weight of the unspoken truth feels heavier, and you realise that the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes to find the perfect moment.

So you decide to act on it. You venture to the grocery store to buy some ingredients, and prepare a romantic, intimate dinner at home. You hope that it could help clear away the cloud of anxiety running through your mind and encourage you to finally tell him once and for all.

As the savoury aroma wafts through your home, you set the table with care, ensuring everything is just right. And when you overhear the familiar clicks of the locks at the front door, you take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and slowly make your way to greet him.

Mingyu walks in his almost disheveled glory, a charming mess that somehow makes him even more endearing. His tall, strong frame moves with a grace that seems effortless. You can tell the day has left its mark on him, evident in the slight weariness around his eyes, but there's an unmistakable warmth and charm that lingers in the way he carries himself.

When he catches sight of you, his eyes lock onto yours, and a smile spreads across his face, seemingly erasing any signs of fatigue.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets, closing the door behind him and coming up to you to place a sweet kiss to your lips, like he always does. Then he gestures towards the table. "What's all this?"

A shy smile plays on your lips as you take his hand and lead him to the table. "I thought we could have a special dinner tonight. Just the two of us."

He quirks a teasing eyebrow up, eyes scanning over your face. "Did I forget something?"

You shake your head. "No, you didn't forget anything, honey. I... just missed spending some quality time with you. That's all."

Mingyu's expression softens, and he pulls out a chair for you. God, you love him. "Well, I'm all yours tonight."

As the two of you begin to share the carefully prepared meal, the tension in the room slowly dissipates. He tells you about the recent preparations for his group's performance at an upcoming award show, and you update him on all the latest gossip at your workplace.

You love the sense of normalcy returning to your evening and being with him after such an eventful day. Yet within you, the anticipation courses through your veins beneath the surface of your composed act.

It becomes a bit too hard to handle that you have to dismiss yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.

Your hands clutch the countertop as you take a deep breath and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. The reality of the situation dawns on you anew, the nerves doing nothing but making you overthink. It's a blend of excitement and anxiety, and it makes you tighten your grip on the cold surface of the sink.

You look down at your pocket, where the pregnancy test is safely tucked away. You know you can't postpone this moment any longer.

You've imagined the two of you as parents so many times𑁋waking up together and preparing breakfast for a little one, taking family trips, and experiencing the joy of watching your child grow before your eyes. Envisioning this kind of future with Mingyu has always been a dream, and now that it's becoming a reality, the knot in your stomach tightens.

When you head out of the bathroom, you catch sight of your husband already tidying up and washing your dishes under the dim kitchen light. And for some reason the sight alone is enough to send a surge of warmth through you and make your heart leap out of your chest. You married this man, decided to devote your entire life to him despite the complications with his career, and now, you're about to share a piece of both of you with him.

He dries his hands upon noticing you coming up. Then he looks at you with those warm, loving eyes, and it hits you like a wave𑁋the realisation that this incredible man, who has been your rock, your love, and your partner in all aspects of life, is going to be the father of your child. Just in that moment alone, you swear you fell in love with him all over again.

"Hi, angel." He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together and you can feel his wedding ring pressing against your skin, giving you a playful twirl before pulling you into his arms. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You smile softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Mingyu has this uncanny ability to make you feel safe, and right now, you need that more than ever.

"Nothing, just..." You bring a thumb up to brush over his skin. "Thinking about you."

Mingyu giggles heartily, pushing back some hair away from your face. "Oh, yeah?" His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, is it good thoughts?”

You only give him a sly grin. "Always."

Mingyu just pulls you even closer, his hands making their way down to hold you lightly at the waist.

"Good, because..." He leans in, pressing a kiss to the spot behind your ear. "I've been thinking about you too."

You laugh softly, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. When he pulls away, your gazes meet together, and you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. This is it𑁋the moment you've been waiting for.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" You whisper, a nervous but hopeful smile playing on your lips.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's this, a surprise?"

You nod, trying to conceal the trembling excitement in your voice. "Just close your eyes, honey. Trust me."

He chuckles but obliges anyway, shutting his eyes and wearing a curious grin. You take a moment to compose yourself, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. With a deep breath, you retrieve the pregnancy test from your pocket and carefully place it into his hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Mingyu blinks his eyes open, and as he sees the pregnancy test in his hand, his expression transforms from curiosity to bewilderment. He looks down at the test, then back at you, his eyes widening with realisation.

"I𑁋is this...?"

"Yeah, we're..." Your words trail off for a second, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. "We're going to be parents."

Mingyu's eyes widen even further, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. The seconds only continue stretch, feeling like an eternity in the utter silence of your place. You watch the flicker of emotions on his face𑁋surprise, confusion, shock, joy, and a hint of nervousness.

Then, as if a switch is flipped, a radiant smile breaks across his features. Before you can say something, you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the island of your kitchen with Mingyu standing between your legs.

"W-We're going to have a baby?" he stammers, as if the test wasn't enough to convince him and he needs to hear it from your own lips.

You cup his face with your hands. "Yes. We're... we're going to be parents, Gyu."

That's all it takes him for to kiss you, a gentle yet fervent kiss that feels enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Smiles emerge on both of your faces, laughter leaves your lips as he peppers kisses now all over your face.

"I can't believe it," he says between kisses, before pulling away to look at you. There's something a bit different in the way he's looking at you now, something deeper, more profound. "You're carrying our baby. I'm... I'm going to be a dad."

He gently rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your face.

"We're going to be parents," he repeats, savouring the words on his tongue. He knows that phrase will be repeating in his head for the longest time. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

You kiss him again. The kitchen seems to glow with warmth and love as Mingyu holds you close, refusing to pull away anytime soon.

A pair of large arms sneak around you, the soft light of the morning seeping in through the small window and bathing your bathroom in an relaxing, ethereal glow. Mingyu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you comfortingly.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers, lips grazing against your ear.

You dry your face with a towel, letting out a contented sigh as you relax into his embrace. "Good morning."

As the quietness of the morning takes over, you feel Mingyu's hand drift a little lower, before stopping right at the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he asks carefully.

You can't help but grin. "You know I'm not even showing yet, right?"

Mingyu just smiles meekly against your skin. "I know. I just want to feel close to the both of you."

So with a nod, you feel his hand make its way under your shirt and gently rest on your stomach. It's only been a day since you've told him, yet he traces over your skin with such tenderness that it makes your heart swell with right out of your chest. He's always been this gentle with you, treating you with the utmost care and love as if you're the most delicate treasure he's ever held. And now, knowing that he's going to extend that same love to the tiny life growing within you, it brings heat to your eyes.

You lean back into him, relishing the warmth of his touch.

As his hand comes to a stop, he places his head on your shoulder. "This is real, isn't it?"

You cup over his hand with yours, following the way he's caressing over your stomach. "Very real."

Mingyu presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, and one to your shoulder blade.

"I love you," he murmurs into your skin. "I love you both so much."

His words linger in the hushed bathroom, and you both stand there for a little while, simply basking in the warmth of the moment knowing that your little family is now in bloom.

"I love you too," You finally reply, turning so that you can face him. "We love you too."

Mingyu just pulls you close and kisses you once more. He will never get tired of hearing that.

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