#they made her the monster she is now and she thinks turning into them will make her even stronger | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

guppiechuu · 2 months ago

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baby, baby, baby 𓂃🧸۶ৎ ˚ʚɞ˚ l.h. (part two is officially out! check it out here.)

exboyf idol!heeseung x youngmom!reader

length: 12.1k

contains: angst, hurt/comfort, abandonment issues, second chances, gaining back trust, ot7 hangouts, lots of teasing (of reader and heeseung), flirting, slow burn, co-parenting, mild explicit language, therapist jungwon, happy ending

warnings: none really... mentions of young single mom and absent father

synopsis: you never planned on seeing Heeseung again, let alone with another man's child on your hip. but when a run-in at the grocery store turns into an evening at your messy, toy-strewn apartment, you're forced to face everything you left unsaid. you're not the same girl he left behind all those years ago, and he's not the same guy that did the leaving. so where does that leave you now?

the question: how much are you willing to bet on second chances? the answer: everything.

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ finally posting this monster oh my god. this was meant to be a <1k word oneshot, but turned into a full-on fic. excuse me and my indulgences, i just have daddy issues and am in love with lee heeseung.

⤷ 💌 i edited this a ton and added like 1000 words cuz i needed more hehe so enjoy!

——

You cursed under your breath as your shopping bags began to slip through your fingers. From your hip, Hana fussed unhappily, tiny hands clawing at your face as you struggled to adjust your grip on her.

“S’cuse me,” A woman said, giving you an annoyed glance as she stepped around you. The others behind you made sounds of frustration as you struggled to wrangle your babbling child and groceries out of the store’s entrance.

“Would you mind getting out of the way?” A man asked impatiently as one of your bags slipped.

“I’m sorry,” You said, face burning with embarrassment.

Hana began to cry, her tiny body impossibly strong as she twisted in your arms, trying to escape your grasp.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, pushing past you.

You bit your lip, hair falling in your face to hide the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Everything was so hard. Ever since your ex had moved out, you’d had no one to help you.

No one to stay up with Hana when she was fussy, no one to entertain her so you could sneak a quick shower in, no one to get groceries while you washed, and fed, and tended to her.

Your parents were a state away, your friends busy with work or travel—none with kids of their own. No one who understood what you were going through. Standing in the doorway of the grocery store, you felt, for the first time since Hana's father left, the true gravity of how alone you both were.

Another exasperated sigh came from behind you as Hana began to cry in earnest, her shrill voice piercing the air of the store.

“Should’ve left her at home with dad,” An older woman said, tsking as she stepped around you. “New moms these days, thinking they can do it all on their own. That kind of attitude kills marriages, you know."

You opened your mouth to defend yourself—to tell her that you couldn't kill a marriage that didn't exist, to even just curse back at her—when the paper bag you’d managed to hold onto split open, the contents spilling out onto the floor.

“For fuck’s sake,” A man said, shoving past you. His shoulder caught yours, knocking you off balance.

Hana’s weight threw you off-kilter, and you stumbled to the ground, holding her tiny wriggling body to your chest.

You wanted to cry.

Beside you, someone stooped to the ground, hastily grabbing the groceries that had fallen out of your bag. You looked up, the apology already forming on your mouth. As your eyes landed on them, the words died in your mouth.

Heeseung.

Your heart skipped.

He didn’t say anything as he gathered the rest of your things, giving you a hand up. His eyes were glued to the squirming toddler in your arms.

With your groceries collected, you were able to step to the side, Heeseung’s hand still on your arm. The customers who’d gathered behind you filed past, one man glaring at you as he did.

“Finally,” He muttered.

Heeseung’s head snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” He shot back. Then, looking from Hana to you, he chuckled nervously. “Sorry.”

You were speechless.

How long had it been since you’d seen him? Three years? Three years since he boarded the jet that had carried him out of your life forever.

You remembered it like it was yesterday—ENHYPEN was going on tour, he wasn't sure when he'd be back, or when he'd have time for you again. The group had just started to take off. This was the big break, he’d said. The one that would start the rest of his life.

Going with him was out of the question. Long distance was brutal. Fans were possessive of their favorite members, and a girlfriend was a risk that management couldn't afford. It took all but a few hours for him to be cut from your life. Gone. Erased. Entirely.

And now, here he was. Lee Heeseung, the great heartbreak of your life, standing in the middle of your friendly neighborhood grocery store, eyes darting back and forth between you and the one-year-old clinging to your hip.

Hana made a noise, reaching a hand out at him curiously. He glanced at her, his expression softening. He smiled as he leaned forward, cooing gently while she fiddled with the earring that dangled from his ear.

Your chest tightened.

“Here,” He said, taking the bags from your hands. “Where did you park?”

——

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Heeseung said quietly as he put the last of your things into your car.

He looked just as you remembered him—tall, handsome, soft-faced, and even softer-voiced. He carried a bag of his own, full of items that sent you back to your school days with him—glossy packages of instant ramen, cling-wrapped kimbap, and those energy drinks he always liked.

You tore your eyes from them, trying to shake the memories of late nights in his dorm from your mind.

“No,” You said, meeting his eyes. God, his eyes. Just as deep and intense as you remembered them. “I should be thanking you. Back there,” You gestured awkwardly, “I was… It’s been a long day.”

His eyes darted to Hana again. You could practically see the question forming on his lips, but he was still the Heeseung you knew, far too polite to outright ask.

“Hana,” You said, smiling at the pink-faced toddler in your backseat. "She's one," You added quickly, watching for his reaction.

He nodded, his expression conflicted, like he was working through his thoughts. “I didn’t know…” He said slowly, looking back at you.

“I know. I… didn’t want you to,” You admitted. “You had a lot going on."

His face dropped. “Y/n, I want you to know, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” You said simply, looking down. “You had a life to live. Dreams to chase.” You smiled at him, genuine, although something deep in your heart had begun to ache, starting the moment you’d locked eyes with him. “I was always proud of you for going."

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I know you wanted me to go, and I’m glad I did, but I…” His fingers toyed with the strings of his bag nervously. “…I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

From the car, Hana began to cry again. It was well past her dinnertime, which meant she’d be inconsolable until you got her home and into her high chair, which was… still broken.

You bit back a curse, remembering that you’d needed to run to the store to replace it today. A week of trying to feed her without it had proven nearly impossible. Especially now that you were alone.

You turned back to Heeseung, trying not to feel disappointed that reality was sweeping you two apart again. What was that phrase? Right person, wrong time? Well, this was two for two.

“Anyways," You said. "Thank you. Seriously. I was losing it in there.”

“You headed home now?” He asked, looking between you, as if trying to keep the conversation going. Hanna was bawling, fists clenched angrily.

You nodded, pulling a snack pack from your bag and tearing it open, hoping it’d be enough to satiate her until you got home. If you could get her fed, maybe you’d have time to take care of all the other things that were piled on your to-do list.

There were dishes waiting for you, and sticky counters, and laundry. So much laundry. The light in your room had gone out and needed replacing, but you barely had enough time to sleep there, let alone perform a maintenance job on it.

You sighed out a tired laugh, rubbing your face with your hand. “Um, yeah. She needs to be fed and put to sleep, and there’s some housework stuff. You know, never a boring day,” You joked half-heartedly.

Heeseung hummed. Then, hesitantly, asked, "Where’s her dad?”

The question knocked the wind out of you.

He gazed at you curiously, a hint of concern in his eyes. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably. This was the one thing you didn’t want coming up.

The baby? Sure. Your embarrassing moment in the store? Fine. Even the state of your hair and clothes, covered in stains and baby powder and spit-up, whatever.

But the fact that you were alone, that the person you’d chosen to father your child was nowhere to be found, that stung in the back of your throat. Nothing had changed. You were still the one being left behind.

Heeseung read the look on your face. “Oh,” He said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off, not sure if you could take the awkwardness of this conversation any longer. “But, yeah, I should go. I have… a lot to do at home. Everything’s on her schedule these days.”

“Can I help?”

You felt your breath catch for a second time. “What?” You laughed nervously.

Heeseung nodded at your groceries and at the squawking baby in the back seat. “Can I help you? We’re on break. Been doing pretty much nothing but sitting around the house, gaming all day. I’ll come over.”

“Heeseung…” You started, images of your messy baby-proofed home springing to mind. As if he needed to see any more of the disheveled single mom life. “You don’t have to do that, really, you’ve helped enough—”

“Y/n, we've known each other for a long time. I can tell you’re up to your neck right now. I want to help,” He said earnestly. “Will you let me?”

You held your breath, searching his face for some clue as to what this meant for you two. Ten minutes ago, you had no idea he was even back home. And now... he was asking for a step back into your life.

The inside of your cheek stung as you chewed on it. Finally, you sighed. "What the hell. Fine. Here, let me write down my address for you."

There, at the corners of his eyes, you caught it. That glimpse of joy in his expression, of hope. It confused the fuck out of you, but you just waved to him, climbing into your car and wondering what this meant for you.

——

It was practically impossible to walk across your house without tripping over one of the toys that littered the ground. There were dishes all over the kitchen counters, soup stains on the wall behind Hana’s highchair where she'd thrown her spoon, dirty laundry spilling out of your closet and across the floor.

Heeseung didn't seem to care at all.

In fact, the only thing he seemed to care about was your daughter. Her small fists, the rosy color of her cheeks, the bubbling sound of her laughter. You'd known Heeseung liked kids—you'd talked about having them once—but what you didn't know was how much they loved him.

He and Hana hit it off immediately, faster than you'd ever seen her take to anyone before.

Without a high chair, you’d been struggling to find the best way to keep her stationary long enough to feed her. Heeseung, however, only propped her on his leg, one hand around her stomach, the other holding her plastic pink Hello Kitty spoon.

It was like magic.

No crying, no spitting. No throwing or hitting. You watched in wonder as she sat there, hands resting on his forearm. The perfect little angel you always bragged about back in full swing.

Her preoccupation with him gave you a chance to not only make her dinner, but get her pajamas out and set up her bath for later. It was the most you'd managed to get done in a single hour in weeks.

Having Heeseung there wasn’t just helpful, it was... overwhelming. His presence filled your senses—the smell of his cologne intermingled with Hana's baby lotion, the feeling of him moving around the kitchen behind you, his voice mixing with her giggling nonsense in the living room.

It was intoxicating. It was dangerous. Because part of you wished—had always wished—desperately and against all reason, that this was what your everyday looked like.

You tried to dissuade that wish as you bent over the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water and dirty dishes. Heeseung came in from the dining room, holding Hana's little bowl and matching spoon in one hand, her bib in the other.

"All done," He said, placing them on the counter. "Finished the whole thing." He sounded proud. It made your chest tighten.

"That girl sure can eat," You said lightly, grabbing the dishes and submerging them under water.

"Mmm, just like her mom, then," He joked.

Being there with him, joking with him, it stirred something in you. Something you'd spent a long time trying to forget. Your throat closed as he came up behind you, dry hand sliding over your soapy one.

"What—" You started, but he was already pulling the bowl from your hands, nudging you out of the way.

"I got this. Go finish up with her."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, ignoring the fluttering sensation that crawled up your throat. He was helping, just like he said he would. It was meaningless.

Still, the feeling of his palm on the back of your hand had your heart stuttering.

In the solitude of the bathroom, you rested your chin on your hand, watching as Hana dunked her plastic horse under the soapy bathwater. She held it up to you, babbling through the bubbles on your face.

You sighed. "What d'you think? Should we let him stick around?"

She slammed her horse back into the water with a squeal, sending water over the edge of the tub.

“Yeah,” You muttered, half to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

You looked over at yourself in the mirror, leaned against the edge of the bathtub, your clothes and hair damp from your daughter’s splashing. So different from the girl that Heeseung had left behind all those years ago. The one he once swore he’d come back for.

You felt childish for even remembering that. Everything was different now. He could have anything he wanted. The girls around him were exactly what you weren’t, what you’d stopped being the moment you found out you were pregnant. They might have been your age, but they weren't saddled with motherhood.

You, on the other hand, would never be able to escape it again.

All anyone seemed to talk about with you was the baby. How old she was now, if she’d started talking yet, how well-behaved she was.

Even running into Heeseung, the first thing he looked at was her. It was like watching yourself fade from existence, all trace of what once made you you vanishing into nothingness.

You weren’t fun. You weren’t spontaneous. Not anymore. Motherhood had drained you of all that youthful vitality Heeseung had once loved so much about you. You felt bland. Boring. Nothing to call your own except for your daughter, who seemed to be the most interesting part of your life nowadays.

Looking at Hana now, you knew there was no way that Heeseung was going to make a permanent return to your life, not when there was a child involved.

And yet.

And yet, Heeseung was still around when you were done with Hana’s bath.

He’d finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. He’d put the rest of your groceries away and tossed all of Hana’s toys back in their bin. He even took the trash out, and was offering to fix the light in your room when you stopped him.

“Are you gonna make me kick you out?” You said, hands on your hips.

The corners of his mouth quirked, his brow lifting. “You really are someone’s mom, huh?”

“Heeseung.”

“Come on,” He laughed, “I’m already here, I might as well fix it. You really want me to go?”

No, of course you didn’t. Of course, you wanted him to stay and help you with your light, and fix your leaky shower head, and make your daughter laugh herself all the way to sleep.

Of course, you wanted him to find a million other things to help you with, and to let you keep imagining what life would be like if he were to be there. To really, truly be there.

What, were you supposed to say no to all that?

By the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Hana was dozing off in Heeseung’s arms, her cheek flat against his shoulder.

You watched from the kitchen doorway, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of them. He swayed slightly, bouncing up and down with a hand to her back.

No one held her like that. Not even her dad. He’d wanted almost nothing to do with her. The diapers, the crying, the mess. He’d decided enough was enough before she was even born. But Heeseung…

“She’s incredible,” He said, glancing back at you. His face was soft, shoulders relaxed. It looked almost like she was as comforting to him as he was to her, with her hand wrapped around the fabric of his shirt.

Your throat was tight. “She is. Takes after me, you know,” You joked, trying to ease the effect that this scene was having on you. Your face was warm.

He chuckled, pursing his lips as she stirred gently. After a moment, he said, “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

You leaned against the doorframe. “It wasn’t something I wanted you to hear from someone else.”

“Yeah,” He said. “Still.”

Still.

He finally looked up at you, and you saw it—how much he was holding back. How hard this was hitting him, all at once. Sure, it had been a long time, but the emotions on his face were like a second language to you. You could read them in your sleep.

“I’m not asking for anything,” You said quickly, maybe too quickly. “I’m not—bringing you here because I want something from you.”

“I know,” He said. But he kept holding Hana anyway, and when you laid her down in her room for the night, he was still in the living room, waiting for you.

“You do all this on your own?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“Every day.”

“You’re amazing,” He whispered.

“Thanks,” You laughed.

He followed you into the kitchen. “I always knew you’d be a good mom.”

The comment sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“What?”

“Yeah, didn’t I ever tell you that?”

You stared at him. “No.”

“I’m sure I did.”

“I think I’d remember if you did. So, no.”

He flashed that smile, the one that used to make you weak in the knees. Still made you weak in the knees. “Then I was an idiot.”

You scoffed, eyeing him skeptically. “Whatever. My house is a mess, and I have literally no social life. Look at me, I’m covered in baby food, and I’m not even the one who fed the baby.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged, that stupid smile on his face. “You make anything look good.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

He gasped. “What? No, I’m just a very supportive friend who happens to know that you manage to make everything look sexy, even being covered in baby food.”

Friend.

“Heeseung.” You used to be the love of my life.

“What!” He grinned. “You’re the one who keeps blushing.”

“I am not blushing.”

He shook his head as he laughed, the sound light and pure. “I missed you. God, I missed you a lot.”

You tensed.

“That first year of tour was hell,” He reminisced, leaning back against your counter. “We hardly slept, or ate, or got any moments to ourselves. It was just go, go, go. All day, every day.” He glanced at you. “But being away from you was by far the worst part.”

“Whatever,” You said quietly. There was a lump in the back of your throat.

He hovered as you finished putting the dry dishes away in your cupboard. “It was hard without you there. You know, you’re the reason I debuted in the first place. Because you believed in me.”

Did you ever believe in me? You wanted to ask. Lingering resentment was seeping from the back of your mind, coloring those happy memories a shade darker. How was it so easy for you to leave me?

“It was hard looking out for everyone without you there,” He chuckled. “You always made that part easier. That’s how I know.”

“Know what?” You said, eyes on the plates in your hands.

“That you’d make a good mom. You were already halfway there with me.”

You froze. “Heeseung,” You said slowly, “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not. You’re flirting.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Is that illegal now?”

You stared at him. “We can’t do this.”

His smile faltered, just slightly. Enough that you knew he’d heard the part you didn’t say aloud: Not again. I can’t do this again.

“I’m not trying to mess anything up,” He said quietly.

“But you do, Heeseung. You walk in, and you smile, and she adores you, and then what? You go back to your life, and we’re left here pretending this never happened? I’ve been there, done that, okay? And I can’t— I won’t let it happen again.”

He opened his mouth, but no answer came.

“Look, I get it. You were gone for a long time. Being back home carries a lot of weight, I’m sure. But you can’t…” You looked at him, chest aching. “You can’t just come in here and make me feel like nothing’s changed when it has. I mean, look around. I have a kid now. I can’t— I’m not like you. Not anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a look of hurt flashing behind his eyes.

You ran your hand over your hair anxiously. It was late, you were exhausted, and you were letting your emotions get the better of you. You knew you should stop talking and just send him home, but you couldn’t.

“You have your whole life ahead of you,” You said. “You get to pack up and travel the world, do whatever you want, meet whoever you want. I don’t. That ended for me the second I had her.”

“Y/n,” He frowned, but you cut him off.

“I thought…” Tears pricked behind your eyes. “I thought that maybe things would just be a little different. That I’d still get to—” You caught your breath, the weight of everything you’d gone through rising suddenly, knocking the breath from your lungs. “And then it ended all over again. When her dad left.”

You saw the way his face hardened, a look you hadn’t seen in years. Hurt. Angry. Protective.

“I’m alone, Heeseung,” You whispered.

“That’s not true—”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not! You have me—”

“Then where were you!?”

His face fell. You didn’t want him to see you cry, but you were dangerously close. Being near him, seeing that god forsaken look in his eyes, like he was angry with himself, it killed you.

“I didn’t know,” He said quietly. “If I had—”

“You would have, what? Cancelled your tour? Come racing home to help your ex with some other guy’s baby? That’s not true and you know it.”

“I would have found a way to be there for you.”

“Really? You could have called. Once, even. You could have checked up on me, but you didn’t. You packed your things and you left. That’s all anyone ever does, is pack up and disappear.”

“Don’t, y/n. It’s not the same thing. I never would have left you with our kid like that,” He said seriously.

Our kid. The words seemed to burrow into your chest, curling up around the part of you that was still so angry, so hurt, so betrayed.

“No,” You said bitterly, wiping your eyes roughly with your sleeve. “You just left me. Not as big a deal, right?”

He flinched, those big, sad eyes of his wincing painfully.

You knew it wasn’t fair. You knew you were being cruel now, prodding a wound that was clearly still open in both of you, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted, just once, for someone to tell you that you were worth fighting for, that the way he and Hana’s dad had both abandoned you wasn’t your fault. That you weren’t defective. Disposable.

Heeseung held your gaze, brows creased. “I deserved that,” He finally said.

You looked away, jaw clenched.

He took a step toward you, slow, like he was scared you might push him away. “You’re right, I did. I left. I let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I thought… walking away would make things easier. That it would hurt less, instead of dragging it out, making you wait for me. You had a life of your own waiting. I couldn’t do that to you,” He reasoned. “And look at you! You brought a kid into the world, y/n. You never needed me, or anyone else. You’re strong.”

“I’m not,” You argued.

“You are,” He said firmly.

You shook your head, arms tightening around yourself. “I’m not strong. I’m surviving. That’s not the same thing.”

Heeseung didn’t argue this time. He gave you an apologetic look, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean to come here and upset you. I wanted… I really did want to help, y/n.”

“You have,” You said, not meeting his eyes. It was hard to speak without your voice shaking, and you didn’t want him to see you cry.

His voice softened, gaze dropping to the floor. “I know I can’t change the past. And you don’t trust me. But we’re back home until the next album’s finished.”

Your chest tightened. So, he was sticking around. Great, you thought to yourself. Just what you needed on top of everything else you had going on.

“If you need me, you can call me. You know that, right?”

You said nothing. Heeseung got his things and left, mumbling apologies as the door closed behind him. You had to catch your breath against the doorframe as the sound of his car faded down the street.

Here you were again. Watching the door swing closed behind him, wishing you were brave enough to ask him to stay.

That night, you went into Hana's room and curled up in the chair beside her crib. Looking at her—the soft fat of her cheeks, the way her tiny chest rose and fell so steadily without a care in the world—was the only thing that kept you from breaking down completely.

You watched her silently, the occasional rogue tear slipping down your cheek. Three years worth of emotions had bubbled up to the surface, crashing over you like a tidal wave of memories and regret. The house was empty again. You were alone.

For the first time, you confronted the hard truth you’d been trying to ignore: no one was coming to save you. You were on your own.

——

Heeseung must have looked upset, because the moment he got back to the dorm, the others were on him.

“Where were you?” Sunoo asked, looking up from his game.

Beside him, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jungwon were sprawled on the couch. Jake watched from the floor, stretched out on his stomach. Niki was curled up in the chair, half asleep.

“Nowhere,” Heeseung mumbled, kicking his shoes off.

“You look like shit,” Jay said bluntly.

“Thanks.”

“I thought you were just stopping at the store?” Jake turned to look at Heeseung over his shoulder. “Geez, you really do look terrible.”

Jungwon looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”

Heeseung’s mind was still spinning. He could barely form a coherent thought, let alone answer their questions. He brushed them off, wanting nothing more than to disappear into his room in solitude.

But these were his group members, his best friends, and they always knew when something was wrong. They switched the game off and trailed after Heeseung as he made his way to his room, shoving his door open. It bounced against the wall loudly.

Heeseung winced, dropping onto his mattress. His body felt worn, his mind foggy, like he’d spent all day on stage instead of laughing with you in your kitchen. He still couldn’t believe he’d spent the day with you. In fact, he could hardly believe anything about what had happened.

There were no words to describe what Heeseung had felt, seeing you again for the first time. It was like every one of his senses dialed in on your figure crouched in the door, your hair falling over your shoulders. His throat had closed, his fingers curling into his palms by his side.

His heart had nearly leapt out of his chest completely.

And then, there was Hana.

He hoped he didn’t look as surprised as he’d felt, but he knew the chances were small. You’d always been able to read his emotions. You’d been the one to ask him out, after all—sick and tired of how painfully obvious his feelings for you were. No one else had ever came close to understanding him the way you did, not even the guys.

You probably saw right through his easy attitude, straight to the heart of his reaction: seeing you with Hana had scared him shitless.

He pressed a hand to his face. I’m never offering to go to the store for the others ever again, he thought hopelessly.

Jungwon appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. The others poked their heads out from behind, waiting for him to say something first. Jungwon might have been younger, but he was their leader, through and through.

He always knew what each member needed in moments like these. For Heeseung, it was space. And time. Jungwon just stood there for a while, not saying anything.

Heeseung’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “I saw y/n.”

More silence.

He hadn't talked about you in a long time, mostly because it brought his mood down every time someone so much as mentioned your name. Years later and he was still upset about the way you'd left things.

And now he knew that you were, too.

“I ran into her at the store,” He continued. “Her bag had ripped so her stuff was everywhere, and people were getting pissed.” Fucking assholes. “I couldn’t just— turn the other way, pretend I didn’t know her.”

No one argued with that, but Heeseung still felt the back of his neck go red.

"So I went up to her. I helped her grab her things. She..." He trailed off. "We went back to her's after."

Jake shoulders dropped, looking relieved. "So, what's with the long face? Haven't you been dreaming about this since, like, we left?"

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re back here,” Jay smirked. “She didn’t want you to stay the night?”

"She has a kid."

That shut them up.

She has a kid. The words sounded foreign in Heeseung's ears. He still hadn't fully wrapped his head around it. The girl he’d been hung up on for years was a mom.

Jungwon’s eyebrows shot up. “Like.. has has?”

Heeseung nodded. “A little girl. Her name’s Hana.”

“So that means she’s…”

“Single,” Heeseung said incredulously, falling backwards onto his mattress. The entire situation was mind boggling. “Hana’s dad isn’t around. Not sure why. All I know is that it was sudden. He just packed up one day and… left.”

Just like I did, He thought bitterly. God, he’d made a number of mistakes throughout his life, but that had to be the worst of them all.

“Damn,” Jungwon said under his breath. “That’s a lot.”

Sunghoon shifted his weight anxiously. “How did she seem?”

Heeseung swallowed. “Tired. She looked so tired. And sad. I could see it in her eyes, even though she was trying not to show it.”

“She didn’t ask for anything?” Jake asked.

“No. She doesn’t want anything from me. She made that pretty clear.�� Heeseung dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what to do. I thought I’d moved on, or at least that I was done holding onto her. But seeing her like that…” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “It’s like everything I’ve been trying to forget just—came back all at once.”

Jungwon finally stepped into the room, going to sit beside Heeseung. The others trailed in after him. It was crowded with all of them there, but Heeseung was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that they were with him. That he didn’t have to spend the night alone with his thoughts.

Like you were now. He thought of you alone in that house, working through the motions of your reunion by yourself. It made his chest ache.

“Shouldn’t have left her,” He mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Are you going to see her again?”

“I don’t know,” He mumbled. “We argued. I think she doesn’t want to believe I could ever be there for her. That I’m just going to leave again.” His throat tightened. “I can’t blame her for feeling that way.”

“Are you?”

“I— no, I don’t want to. But she’s afraid to trust me. And I’m scared, too! What if she’s right? She’s always right. I don’t wanna cause her more trouble…”

Now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop. The others listened intently, nodding along, humming sounds of understanding.

“I’m scared that the more I try to get closer to her, the further I’m going to push her away. She has enough shit going on in her life right now. I don’t want to add to that. But I can’t just let her be. Not when I know she’s too proud to ask anyone else for help.”

“No, not y/n.” Sunoo hid a laugh behind his hand. “That girl would rather die than rely on anyone else. She’s always preferred to figure it out on her own.”

“I know. I don’t want to fuck up her life anymore than I already have.”

“Hey, at least you’re not the asshole who knocked her up,” Jay said lightly.

Heeseung bit his lip, suddenly worried he was going insane.

Worried because the smallest part of him almost wished that he was. He would have never left you alone. And… Well, he’d always liked the idea of you with his kids. He meant what he said earlier—if anyone was going to make a good parent, it was you.

A baby would have killed his career for sure, but… he almost preferred that to the idea of you struggling through parenthood alone.

“So what are you going to do?” Jungwon asked.

“I don’t know,” Heeseung sighed, sitting up. “What if I try to be there for her, and I make things worse? What if she’s right not to trust me? I don’t want to—” He ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “I can’t hurt her again. I’d rather never see her again than have that happen.”

Jungwon pursed his lips, thinking. “It is true that you’ll have to leave again when the next album is finished.”

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Tour life isn’t exactly fit for a kid.”

“There’s always the chance that people find out about you two.”

“You’d have to be apart for a long time.”

Jungwon nodded. “But… do you love her?”

Heeseung’s face went red. “What?”

“Quit acting embarrassed. We had to listen to you go on about her for a year straight after we left. I think you can tell us if you’re still in love with her.”

He pursed his lips and frowned, mulling the question over. Was he still in love with you?

Who was he kidding, of course he was. How else could he explain the way the world seemed to blur when he caught sight of you in the store? How his body was moving to help you before he even had time to think about it?

Heeseung was in love with you. As in love with you as he was the day he left. Why else had he spent all day at your house doing chores, enjoying every minute? The way you moved around each other, the sound of Hana’s voice responding to yours, the way he could see pieces of you in her. God, he’d only known that girl for a day but he was already feeling protective of her.

Of both of you.

He sighed. “Yes… I do. I am.” He pressed his thumb into his palm, where he’d brushed the back of your hand. “I really missed her,” He mumbled. “But I’m scared to mess everything up. Again.”

“You’re not gonna do that,” Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, come on. I’ve never seen you make the same mistake twice.”

“Thanks,” He muttered, still unable to shake his fears.

“If you really love her, you’ll find a way to make it work,” Jungwon assured him.

Hearing that brought a small amount of relief to Heeseung’s anxiety, but he still wasn’t convinced. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?” He asked quietly.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic. If she doesn’t want to see you, she’ll tell you. Did she?”

“No… not explicitly…”

“Then you still have a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Heeseung chuckled lightly, feeling slightly better. “I’ll try not to.”

“Screw your feelings, we miss having her around,” Sunghoon joked.

“Yeah, I wanna meet this kid,” Jake said eagerly. “If she’s anything like y/n, she’ll fit in just fine with us.”

Niki hummed in agreement. “Yeah, we never agreed to your break up.”

“Mm. Very inconsiderate of you,” Jay said.

Heeseung laughed, for real this time. He felt his chest untighten for the first time in hours, his shoulders dropping, his jaw unclenching. God, he was grateful for his friends. They were right.

Heeseung had been losing his mind over what he should do when there was really only one option in front of him: to prove to you how serious he was about you. Whether or not you were able to fix things between you two, that didn’t matter to him.

All he cared about was showing you that you could trust him. That you weren’t alone in this, no matter how long you’d spent believing otherwise.

Seeing you today confirmed what he’d known the second he’d left all those years ago: you were the only one for him. And meeting Hana—feeling the warmth of her against his chest, smelling your perfume on her skin, noticing the way her lips curved up in the same shape that yours did—it was the final nail in the coffin.

His life would never be complete without you in it, one-year-old and all.

——

Heeseung’s reappearance in your life didn’t happen immediately.

In fact, it was a few weeks before you heard from him again. Lost in the throes of trying to find a babysitter so that you could pick up an extra shift at work, his text was left buried in calls from your landlord and notices about upcoming bills.

Heeseung Are u busy this weekend? I have some overexcited friends who are anxious to meet that baby of yours.

It sat unanswered for a day.

You didn’t know it, but every single one of the 24 hours that passed before you got back to Heeseung was like knives in his skin. The day dragged by, long and torturous, as he sank deeper and deeper into the belief that maybe he’d been wrong, and you didn’t want to hear from him after all.

He was relieved when his phone buzzed on his desk, your name popping up on his screen for the first time in three years.

Y/N Oh god.

Y/N Are u really gonna bring them over here??

Heeseung Not if you’re not okay with it.

Y/N It’s not that I’m not okay with it. it’s just… weird

Y/N Never thought I’d be introducing your group members to my kid.

Heeseung Definitely weird.

Heeseung Always figured they’d meet ours first but this works too.

Y/N Heeseung.

Heeseung What? Just saying.

Y/N 🙄

Heeseung I’ll be good. I promise. Saturday?

He chewed the edge of his nail as he watched his screen, heart racing at the base of his throat. Your text came in and he couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.

Y/N Yeah right.

Y/N See you then.

You had precious little time to clean up before they got there. When you heard Heeseung’s knock at the door, you were part-way through clearing Hana’s things out of the living room.

Sweaty, hair a mess, sticky toddler on your hip, you pulled the door open to a group of faces you hadn’t seen in years.

The guys stood there for a second, taking you in. Sunoo was the first to break the silence, his face widening into a grin. “Wow,” he said, “Motherhood really does suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, your face warming as you shifted Hana on your hip. “Shut up, Sunoo.”

Hana peeked out at them, fists clutching your shirt nervously.

Jake’s eyes went wide as he crouched down, level with her. “Hi,” He said, his voice going soft. “You’re so cute, oh my god. Mind if we come in?”

Hana smiled shyly, burying her face in your shoulder.

“Sorry about the mess,” You said, stepping aside to let them in. “Can never seem to keep anything clean these days.”

“You should’ve called us,” Sunoo pouted. “We could’ve helped.”

“No way. You guys are busy enough as it is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said. “You should see how these guys live”

“Oh, shut up, Jay. Your room is disgusting. I don’t know how you live in that filth.”

“My room is disgusting!? Should we talk about how you keep the living room—”

“Get out of the way!” Jungwon complained, pushing past them.

Heeseung was the last to come in, messy-haired and bare-faced. He looked nervous, but his shoulders dropped when he caught sight of you.

He paused in the doorway. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” You said. “It’s fine. Just… don’t expect her to start doing tricks or anything.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, peeking at Hana. “I heard kids can dance these days.”

“Please,” You scoffed. “She can barely get a spoon from her plate to her mouth.”

They laughed as they filed in, avoiding the toys that were scattered around the floor. For a moment, no one wanted to sit down. They crowded around you, pulling funny faces to make Hana laugh, reaching out to pinch her face.

Heeseung hovered beside you, eyes flicking to yours. It felt good to have him close. You’d never had this many people in your house before, not since having Hana. His presence was steadying. Reassuring.

You found yourself wanting to stick close to him as well.

They followed you into the living room, pointing at the photos and finger-painting scribbles hung up on the walls. You noticed Heeseung from the corner of your eye, bending down to grab things from the floor as he went, tossing them into Hana’s toy chest the same way he had when he first came over.

It was instinctual, that desire to help you, to take some of the load off your shoulders. Always had been.

“How are you, y/n?” Jungwon asked, “Besides the cute baby and messy living room.”

“Um,” You sighed, “I’m… managing. Getting used to doing all this on my own. It’s hard but rewarding, too.” You smiled at Hana, pressing your lips to her head and breathing in the soft, sweet baby smell of her hair. “She makes it worth it.”

Your voice was easy, your face relaxed, but Heeseung could see the fatigue in your body. Your shoulders drooped, Hana’s weight sagging in your arms.

Getting used to doing all this on my own. You’d never know how sad it made him to hear you say that.

“I can’t imagine how tired you are,” Jake said, watching as Hana curled a hand around his finger.

You laughed lightly. “I definitely don’t sleep the way I used to. Or, at all, really,” You admitted. “You don’t even want to know how long it’s been since I’ve showered.”

“I can see that,” Sunoo teased, gesturing at the myriad of stains across your shirt. “I like the baby food. It’s a good look on you.”

“Glad to know it’s working on you, jerk,” You said playfully. God, you missed having these guys around.

“Do you want me to take her?” Heeseung asked. The question caught you by surprise. He seemed so easy about it, like it was something he did every day. “You can take a quick shower… if you want.”

“What? No way. You guys are friends, not my babysitters.”

“Not yet,” Niki said, leaning down to coo at Hana’s face.

“Seriously, we don’t mind,” Heeseung insisted.

You bit your lip sheepishly. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. We’re professionals.” Sunghoon said seriously.

“I mean, we are terrible at music,” Jake added, “But picture books and stuffed animals? I think we got it.”

“Go,” Heeseung insisted softly. “We’re here. Let us help.”

You hesitated. It was such a small thing—showering, putting on a fresh t-shirt—but it felt huge. Like accepting their help would mean finally admitting just how worn out you were.

There was also your protectiveness over Hana, too. You’d never left her with anyone but your parents before. It was why finding a babysitter had become such an ordeal—trusting anyone with your child took an incredible leap of faith.

But then you saw the look in Heeseung’s eyes. The hopeful, almost desperate need to do something for you. He held your gaze, steady, solid.

As if in answer, Hana reached out for him, squirming away from your grasp. She’d always been good with faces, and he was wearing the same jacket he’d worn the first time he came over. She stretched towards the familiarity of his arms and you surrendered, allowing her to climb into them.

“She likes you,” Jungwon said, a big grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, unable to hide the pride in his voice. “I like her, too.”

Seeing her in his arms again brought back the same feeling from before. The one that made you want to see Heeseung with your daughter all the time.

They just looked so… at home together. Like Hana had known him since the start. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to wish that she had.

“All her toys are in there, and there’s snacks in the fridge if she gets fussy. If she gets really upset I’ve got a pacifier in her room—”

Heeseung nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up at your rambling. “She’ll be great.”

You sighed. “Okay, but if she starts crying—”

“We’ve got it,” Jay reassured you.

Sunoo shot you a wink. “Go on, mama. We’ll look after her.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and slipped down the hall, feeling, for the first time in a long while, that you had people in your corner. It was a good feeling.

——

“She sorta looks like you, Heeseung.”

“Oh, stop teasing him. He’s not gonna let us come back with him next time.”

“You’re so full of it. They don’t look anything alike.”

“She’s got a real Shin Min-a look to her. Old school.”

“She looks like her mom,” Heeseung said, only half-listening to what his idiot friends were debating about.

His attention was mainly on the tiny human balanced on his thighs, her hands tangling in his hair. She was a stout little thing, skin slipping under the slippery fabric of her shirt as he kept a firm grip on her.

A Laker’s jersey. Your guys’ favorite team.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions rising in him. Just being there—with Hana, with you—it was enough to make him crazy. He tried not to feel dizzy as Hana’s hands moved to his face.

“She missed you,” Jungwon said quietly, fidgeting with a plastic airplane in his lap.

For a second, Heeseung thought he was talking about Hana, but no. He was talking about you.

Heeseung glanced at him. “You think so?”

“You should’ve seen the way she was looking at you when she opened the door.”

Jay snickered at him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, she was totally checking you out, man.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Niki chimed in, tossing a stuffed rabbit at Sunghoon. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

Heeseung just shook his head. “She’s just… It’s been a long time.”

Jay shook his head. “Nah, man. You’re still important to her.”

“It’s obvious,” Sunoo agreed. “If Jay noticed it, it’s real.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Well, you’re not the most observant of people, are you?” He said, side-eyeing him.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. He hoped they were right.

——

The guys started coming around more often after that. They always insisted that they were restless at the dorm and liked having somewhere else to hang out, but you knew it was more than that.

It became something of a tradition to have a big meal at yours at the end of the week, and as time passed, it became easier to rely on them. It felt good to have a kitchen full of noise, a table that wasn’t empty, a house that shook with laughter and music.

They’d bring bags of groceries over and cook these huge, chaotic dinners to share in your dining room. The kitchen was left a mess but they always cleaned up.

Weeks went by and Heeseung stayed behind more and more often, tidying up the rest of the house with you, even helping to put Hana to bed.

Despite your reservations, you liked having him there. You liked the way he’d come through your door unannounced, toting drinks for you and a snack for Hana in his bag. You liked the way he’d get up from the couch when he heard her fussing, and how the others teased him about it in front of you.

“Is that your baby now or what?” Jungwon would laugh, eyes flicking between you and Heeseung with that knowing look.

You’d turn red and Heeseung would just shake his head, smiling.

Even in your hardest moments, he was still showing up for you. Providing you with the comfort and stability that you were trying so hard to give your daughter. You tried to remind yourself not to get too used to his support, but there was no denying it—it was easier to take care of Hana when there was someone taking care of you, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” You sighed, reaching down to pick her back up from her crib. Your phone was tucked between your cheek and your shoulder, Heeseung on the other end of the line. “I’ve tried everything. She just won’t settle.”

His voice came through rough and scratchy with sleep. It was late, and he probably should’ve been asleep hours ago, but you’d started calling each other. A lot. If he wasn’t there in person, he was on your speaker phone, talking to you and keeping Hana entertained.

“Do you wanna try feeding her again?” He asked, yawning.

“I’ve tried. She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want anything.” You sighed as Hana let out another ear-piercing wail. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. It looked like another all-nighter for you.

“Can you take her to your bed? I think she just doesn’t like being away from you.”

That was certainly true. Hana was getting clingier and clingier these days, spoiled by all her uncles constantly wanting to hold her.

“I can’t, I’m scared that I’ll fall asleep,” You said.

Countless horror stories about parents falling asleep with their babies in their bed had left you anxious to bring her to yours. It was moments like this that you wished her dad was there—that you had someone to take turns staying up with.

“I’ll let you go,” You sighed. “I’m gonna try walking her around the house or something, maybe another bath. Sleep well, okay?”

He hummed as you ended the call, the vibration tickling your ear through the phone. Almost like he was there with you. At least one of you would be able to get some sleep, you thought enviously as you pulled Hana to your chest.

Only, ten minutes later there was a knock at your door.

“Heeseung?” You stared at the man in your doorway. Hana scratched at your face as she wailed up at you. “Are you crazy? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “Wanted to make sure she was okay,” He said, as if that was a reasonable explanation for showing up at your house at 2 a.m.

“She’s fine,” You said, half-stunned as you shut the door behind him.

Hana let out a disgruntled whine at not having your attention. You raised a brow at her, shaking your head. “You’re such a little drama queen. Look, you’re not even upset anymore.”

It was true. Hana’s cries had slowed to a sniffle as she gazed at Heeseung with wide, glossy eyes. He held a hand out for her to grab onto.

“Had to make sure mom was okay, too,” He said quietly, thumb brushing over her knuckles.

You looked up at him, your chest tightening. His hair was a mess, poking out from under the hood of his sweatshirt. A rush of emotion washed over you at the sight of him, at the dark circles under his eyes, the tired smile on his mouth. The way he was trying—really trying—to be there for you both.

“You didn’t have to,” You mumbled, averting your eyes.

God, even in his most sleep-deprived state he was gorgeous. Eyes burning into yours in the low light. His body hummed with that quiet power that had drawn you to him in the first place—that confidence, that steadfastness. How he seemed perfectly at ease no matter where he was or what he was feeling inside.

Standing next to him, you felt slightly less exhausted. Like simply being around him was enough to energize you.

“I know,” He said softly, “But I wanted to.”

He stepped forward, hands slipping under Hana’s arms with a tenderness that made your heart sting. She let out a giggle as he lifted her up, hands smacking against his chest as he settled her against him.

“She’s always happier with you,” You said quietly. It wasn’t a complaint. Hana really was calmer around Heeseung, and that brought you a sense of peace that you weren’t quite sure how to explain.

He looked at you, his expression softening. “She’s happier when you’re okay,” He murmured. “Come on, let’s try this again.”

Despite his best efforts, Hana was still unhappy in her crib. She clung to his arm as he tried to place her down, voice going up several octaves. You winced at the volume, grateful that you didn’t share walls with your neighbors. They’d have lost their patience hours ago.

Heeseung didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even flinch as she shrieked, clawing at his hands in frustration. He just scooped her back up, resting her against his shoulder and muttering reassurances over her cries.

You tried for an entire hour—walking her around the house, reading her favorite books and making sure to do all the funny voices, swaddling and unswaddling her, over and over and over. The best luck you had was in your room, like Heeseung had suggested, which both heartened and annoyed you at the same time.

How were you supposed to deny a man with such good instincts?

“You are so dramatic.” You shook your head as Hana hiccupped from your pillow, smiling like she’d never been crying in the first place.

“I wonder where she gets it,” Heeseung said lightly, sitting down on the other side of her.

You tried to stifle a yawn as Hana stretched out, both of your eyes drooping.

Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at the both of you. He’d never met your ex—hadn’t even seen a picture—but he didn’t need to to know that Hana hardly took after him.

Her smile, her mannerisms, that was all you. She was yours, through and through.

“Come here,” He said, pulling Hana closer to him to make space for you to lay next to her.

“I’ll fall asleep,” You protested.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Anyone else, and you would have said no. Anyone but him, and you’d have insisted they leave, resigning yourself to another brutal night of no sleep.

But it was Heeseung. He propped himself up on one elbow, his arm curved over Hana’s head.

You sighed in resignation as you settled in on the other side of her, your hand resting over her stomach gently. His hand came down to brush the hair away from your face. His fingers were soft against your temple, the same gentle touch that you used to love so much.

Anyone else and you would have turned them away, but it was Heeseung, and he watched the two of you sleeping like you were the most precious things to him in the world.

——

When you woke the next morning, the sun was peeking through your window, filtering through your blinds and washing your room in soft, white light.

In front of you, Hana was still sound asleep, her fists clenched by her head. On the other side of her, Heeseung was there. Still on his side, shoulders curved inwards protectively. His arm was still stretched out above you both, his hand resting gently against your hair. He’d fallen asleep that way, holding you both like you were his to care for. His to protect.

And waking up that morning, you realized that maybe you were. Maybe you wanted to be. You slipped out from under his hand, trying not to disturb either of them as you rolled the ache out of your shoulders.

You padded into your kitchen, warm light spilling across the floor. Leaning against the counter, you finally admitted to yourself that you had a problem.

Heeseung was doing it. He was making you believe.

You let out a breath.

The nightly calls, the small gestures, the way Heeseung was there for you, it was working. Are you really falling for this? You thought stubbornly, trying to reason your way out of the way you felt about him. How much of it was real, anyways? And how much had you made up in your desire to have him close? Your mind screamed at you not to trust any of it.

He was an idea. You didn’t need him.

But you wanted him so bad.

Your heart warred against this truth, desperate for something—anything—to convince yourself otherwise. But it wasn’t easy to do. The life he’d painted around you in just under a month was like something out of a dream. One you’d had before the baby, before the breakup, when you still felt like dreams like this had merit.

It was everything you’d ever wanted, and that made you suspicious. What reason did the universe have for giving this to you? When it had been so intent on taking things away?

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hana came crawling into the kitchen, slapping her hands on the cool floor. Heeseung trailed in after, looking exceptionally tired with his hair sticking up in awkward places. He yawned, scooping Hana up with practiced ease and perching her against his chest.

“Hey,” He said, bringing her over to you. “Did you sleep well?”

You took her grabbing hand in yours, kissing a good-morning into her hair. “Thanks to you. You’re so good with her,” You said, trying to keep your voice even. Your stomach was fluttering nervously. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He shrugged, giving her a little bounce that sent her squealing with laughter. “It’s easy. She’s a charmer. Just like her mom.”

Your heart stuttered, and you looked away, fighting the stubborn burn in your chest. Heeseung saw it, though. He always saw it.

“I’m glad I came, y/n. Seriously. I slept great.”

“You slept terribly.”

“Alright, fine, I slept pretty badly, but it was worth it,” He insisted. “And I’d do it again. And again, and again, and again,” He laughed, nuzzling his face into her chest. “Can the guys come over today? Unless you want the day to yourself… I know we’ve been over a lot. I can go home if you want.”

Words could not describe how badly you wanted him to stay. “Yeah, of course. I like having you guys around.”

I like having you around, is what you should have said, but you didn’t have to say it for Heeseung to know what you meant. The smile on his face told you that he understood completely.

It was already the beginning of the end for you when the other members came over and started teasing you both mercilessly. Weeks of hanging out at yours had made them bold—and it was clear that they wanted you to address what was going on between the two of you.

“Should we start packing your room up?” Sunoo asked, side-eyeing you both as he came in.

“You might as well just move in, bro,” Jay said, clapping his hand on Heeseung’s back.

You scoffed. “Yeah right, not until he starts paying rent.”

Jay smirked. “He’d do it.”

“Shut up,” Heeseung mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Their banter might have embarrassed you once, but it felt natural now. The way they spilled into your living room, fighting over who got to hold Hana and which toys she wanted to play with more more—it was hard not to feel like this was how it had always been.

You clung to whatever thin resolve you had left as you watched them all with your daughter. No matter how much you tried not to, your gaze always landed back on Heeseung. The way he lifted Hana into the air, blowing raspberries into her stomach until she was screeching with laughter. The way he handed her off to someone else and insisted on helping you get her lunch ready.

Things between you and Heeseung became… different.

It didn’t fluster you as much when the others teased you for being attached at the hip anymore. And you didn’t mind when he’d sit with his arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers brushing the back of your neck.

For every inch you gave, he seemed to take a mile. Eventually, it became commonplace for him to collapse on the couch right next to you, thigh brushing yours, arm stretched behind your shoulders.

The others stopped asking if Heeseung was leaving with them. They knew he’d choose to stay with you.

“Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all night?” You asked, your back turned as you put your dinner leftovers into the fridge. You could feel his eyes on the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe.” He said, “I like watching you.”

“You’re insufferable.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier. When I put my arm around you on the couch, you didn’t move.”

Caught.

“That was different,” You managed, keeping your voice even. He didn’t need to know how much of a rise that simple touch had gotten out of you.

“Was it?” His voice was low as he came to lean against the counter beside you, arms crossed. “Felt pretty natural to me.”

Weeks passed and lines got blurrier. He touched you. A lot. Practically couldn’t keep his hands off of you—brushing a strand of hair from your face, a hand on your lower back, a stroke of his thumb against your temple.

By the time you realized it was happening, that you were really, truly falling for him again, it was too late.

Waking up with your head on his chest, Hana curled between you—it was too late.

His arms resting on either side of you against the counter, his chest to your back as Hana sat on top of it—it was too late.

His hand running back through your hair in front of everyone as he tried to find the scar you’d gotten from hitting your head on his dorm door all those years ago—it was too late.

As much as you tried to manage your affinity for him—remind yourself that he had always been friendly, that this was just a passing thing for him while he was bored at home—it was during your weekly dinner as a group that your feelings became impossible to deny any longer.

You were in the kitchen, putting the dishes away when you heard a sharp crash from the other room—the sound of glass breaking.

Your heart skipped as you dropped the bowl you were holding and ran towards the living room. Someone had knocked a cup from the table, the shards spraying across the floor.

Heeseung was on his feet in a second, scooping Hana up away from the broken pieces, stepping away as the others got up.

You paused in the doorway, your breath catching as you watched him. The others stepped around him to clean up, bickering lightly about who was to blame, but Heeseung’s focus never wavered. He murmured something in Hana’s ear, pointing at the broken cup, bouncing her gently as they swept up the shards.

He looked up and caught your eye, and it was suddenly so clear.

You’d been an idiot.

Looking at Heeseung now, it was impossible for you to deny any longer. Heeseung loved you. How had you managed to convince yourself otherwise?

Old grudges rose in the back of your mind—he left you. he left like it was nothing, like everyone else does, and he’s going to do it again—but for the first time, you pushed them away with ease.

They were words.

And what use were words when there you had actions to prove them otherwise?

Something about that moment, the way Heeseung had gone for Hana first, letting the others handle the mess while he made sure she was alright, made your doubts melt away. His first instinct wasn’t to scold whoever had knocked the glass over, or even to help clean it up.

It was to keep your daughter safe.

You spent the rest of the day with a lump in the back of your throat, the awkward ache of all the things you wanted to say to him. He seemed to notice your change in attitude, that something was bothering you, and he stuck even closer than he usually did, stopping to ask you if you were okay multiple times.

“Will you stay behind?” You asked, glancing up at him. “After everyone goes.”

He looked surprised, but nodded. “Of course.”

The others eventually left again, wanting to go out for dinner. Heeseung promised he’d catch up with them but they just rolled their eyes, not believing him for a second.

With the house empty again, it was impossible for you to dance around it anymore.

Hana was down for her nap—eased to sleep by Sunghoon and Jake’s rendition of her favorite bedtime story. Heeseung was leaned against the counter, as if half-expecting you to say something. And your words sat heavy in your throat, aching to come out.

“You don’t know how much it means to me,” You murmured finally, looking up to meet his gaze, “Having you and the others here. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, y/n. We’re happy to help.”

“No,” You said, shifting uneasily. “I dont know how I’ll make it up… to you.”

His eyes widened slightly, but you went on before he could answer, afraid that if you didn’t talk now, you’d never be able to again.

“I know…” You started, cringing internally at how difficult this was for you. Your feelings were so strong, why was it so hard to explain them? “I know I was harsh on you when you came over the first time. You were being kind, and I got defensive. I’m not proud of how I behaved at all,” You admitted.

“Y/n…”

You stopped him. “Just—let me finish.”

He closed his mouth, but you saw the anxious twitch of his brow.

“You didn’t have to come back. You didn’t owe us anything, not after the way we left things and definitely not after the way I spoke to you. But you did anyways.” You crossed your arms, feeling self-concious. “I didn’t think that I would ever have this again,” You said, gesturing at the things left over from their visit. “I really thought I was going to do this by myself. And that was fine, I’d made my peace with it, but now…”

You paused, your eyes flicking to the picture Hana had drawn with the others—a mess of scribbles that resembled a house, and a group of people standing in front of it. “Now it’s different. And that’s hard for me.”

Heeseung swallowed, as if gathering every ounce of his strength to keep his voice steady. “It’s okay if… if you don’t want me here, y/n.” He held your gaze bravely, but you could tell the idea hurt him. “If this is too much, if you’d rather… I can go—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

He blinked, startled.

“I know I’ve been guarded, and I’ve been pushing you away. But… but seeing you with her, and with me—it’s made me realize how much I’ve missed this. How much I’ve missed you.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe you. You almost smiled. He was so reserved, hands clenched at his sides, braced for what you were going to say.

“I know I talk a big talk but… I don’t want to do this alone, not if you’re willing to be here. Not if you’re willing to… to be with us. I don’t want you to go.”

“You don’t want me to go.” He said it slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

You bit your lip, laughing a little bit at the look on his face. “No, I don’t.”

Then, his face broke into a grin. His shoulders dropped and he was stepping towards you, pulling you into his chest like he’d been waiting to do it for years.

And he had. He really had.

His touch was overwhelming. His arms wrapped around you, the heat of his throat warm against your cheek. You buried your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne and the lingering smell of kid that was all over him. All over both of you.

You pulled away, giddy with nerves and relief. “Happy?”

“Happy,” He breathed. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know… what do you think?”

He quirked his head, lips twisting into a smile. “I think… I’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you again.”

Your heart skipped. “Then what’s stopping you?”

He smiled lazily, like he was half-dreaming, and brushed his nose against yours before pushing his lips onto yours. You melted against him, so happy you could hardly think straight.

Heeseung pushed you back against the counter, his hands on your waist as yours threaded through his hair.

“I was an asshole,” He mumbled against your mouth. “I’m sorry”

You shook your head, breathless beneath his lips. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Besides, you thought, that was years ago. And the Heeseung in front of you now was not the same one that had left you behind.

Not by a longshot.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #baby fic #angst #enhypen x reader #boyfriend heeseung #ex boyfriend heeseung #guppiechuu

3K notes · View notes

auroralwriting · 9 days ago

Text

٠ ࣪⭑ state of grace

‎pairing: clark kent x reader (6.0K words)

summary: when another metahuman decides to relocate to metropolis, how is it that clark always gets swept up in situations like these? aka, how does clark kent end up falling head over heels for the invisible woman?

warnings & content: metahuman!reader, invisible woman!reader but not sue storm reader just has her powers oops, clark is actually whipped, guy is a d1 hater, significant use of swear words mostly from guy, small mentions of the cw flash show, its canon in my heart, eventual mutual pining, third person but you see both reader and clark's thoughts, some mentions of superman (2025) plot, yes i'm aware national city isn't where flash is from i just chose my favorite city

There was one thing Clark hated more than anything. Yes, more than bad pancakes and mean-spirited people. It was a creature that he couldn't contain.

Defeat is a harsh word. That implies killing—and Clark isn't about brutally killing anyone or anything. Emphasis on the thing.. because what was this thing?

It was giant, standing at the height of the buildings around them. It was sort of like that one creature Lex Luthor set free while he infiltrated the Fortress of Solitude. However, this thing was much, much different. It had zero blind spots that Clark, nor the Justice Gang, could locate. It had keen senses, almost like foresight, and was impeccably strong.

Which lead them all to now.

Hawkgirl was circling what she deemed The Abomination, trying to distract it while Mister Terrific tried to do some digging on what this could possibly be. Guy was just trying to beat the shit out of it, which was failing horrendously, but not that he would admit it. Metamorpho was trying all sorts of different things, fire, water, anything he could conjure to stop it. It also failed. Clark was currently trying to evacuate.

Why did people love to stand around when there was a giant monster crushing buildings and roaring? The world may never know.

"I don't think we're stopping it!" Guy yelled, his green wrecking ball doing absolutely no damage.

"Really?" Hawkgirl sarcastically called back. Clark could practically feel the roll of her eyes from however many hundred feet apart they were.

Once he moved one last person, Clark was back in the sky. "We've gotta distract it. Everyone, take a different side!"

They scattered—Hawkgirl veering left with a sharp beat of her wings, Metamorpho sliding into a pillar of smoke and reforming on the right, and Guy zipping overhead, grumbling something about doing all the heavy lifting around here.

The Abomination didn’t flinch.

Its head swiveled slowly, deliberately. Not like a mindless beast, not even like a predator. Like something aware. Something watching.

Clark could hear it now, the sound it made—not just the booming roars, but the low, guttural thrumming beneath it, like the growl of a world about to crack open.

"We’ve got nothing on this thing,"Mister Terrific said in his comms, breath quick. "Nothing in the archives. Nothing in the Watchtower database. Not even in Kryptonian logs, and you guys usually write everything down."

"That’s comforting," Clark muttered, eyes narrowing. He rocketed upward, cutting through the clouds, then shot back down like a missile, both fists forward, crashing into the creature’s chest with a thunderous crack.

It didn’t move. No stumble. No flinch. Just a slow pivot of its head toward him. Clark froze.

Its eyes—if they were eyes—were pure white, blank and unblinking. And in that second, he felt it. Not pain, not fear. Something colder. Something that reached past muscle and bone and found whatever existed beneath.

"Superman!" Hawkgirl’s voice snapped him out of it. She dove at the creature, swinging her mace with a shriek of battle, striking it across the jaw.

That, at least, made it move. Its head turned with the blow, just slightly, but the rest of its body stayed rooted like a mountain. "Got a reaction," she called, swooping back. "Barely."

"Keep it coming," Clark said, voice firm. He turned toward Metamorpho. "Try acid next. Corrosive. Anything."

"On it," Metamorpho replied, shifting into a sickly green gas and funneling toward the creature’s arm. It swatted the cloud away like an annoying fly and looked at him.

That was when it happened.

The ground beneath them cracked, deep and wide. And from it, a low hum began to rise, vibrating through the air. Streetlights shattered. Windows exploded in a sharp cascade.

Clark clenched his jaw, fighting the pressure pushing into his skull. Guy grunted over the comms, "Okay, did anyone else get a brain earthquake, or was that just me?"

"Everyone felt it," Mister Terrific said grimly. "This thing’s broadcasting telepathically on a level I didn’t even think was possible."

Clark hovered in place, breathing heavy. "We need to figure out what it wants. Why it’s here."

And then, before anyone could respond, the creature’s head turned again, but this time, it seemed to freeze. It turned its head again, then again. After a moment, it was looking around like it had been blindsighted.

"What's it doing?" Clark turned to ask Mister Terrific.

"I don't know," he slowly answered, just as confused as the rest of them.

"Is it.. blind?" Hawkgirl asked, circling cautiously.

"I didn’t do that," Metamorpho muttered.

"Neither did I," Mister Terrific chimed in. "Something’s messing with its vision. Or whatever that thing uses for vision."

Clark squinted. There—near the edge of a crushed construction site—he caught the faintest glimmer. A shimmer of distortion, light bending around nothing.

And then a voice crackled on the comms. "Maybe stop standing around and hit it while it’s blind?"

Guy groaned. "Oh, fuck off. Not you!"

"You know her?" Clark asked, already diving back into the fray.

"Unfortunately."

The voice chimed in again, dry as ever. "Glad to see your grudge is still going strong, Gardner."

"She’s from National City," Guy burgudgenly explained. "Metahuman. Ran into her last month while I was tracking a dimensional rip. She got in the way."

"I fixed your mess."

"You freelanced! I had it under control!"

"Oh, yeah? What part of screaming and flailing was your strategy, exactly? My city, my problem!"

"Can we do this later?" Hawkgirl snapped. "We have a kaiju that can smell our intentions and slap us into next Tuesday."

The mystery woman didn’t respond. Instead, she acted.

Another ripple shimmered across the battlefield, barely visible. A wave of force shifted under Clark’s feet midair. The Abomination’s foot sank into the street unexpectedly—caught in a trench that hadn’t been there a second ago.

A sudden slam of a dome of force, unseen but solid, locked around the creature’s upper body. Its arms flailed uselessly against the shield.

"Who is she?" Metamorpho asked.

"I don’t know," Clark said quietly. "But she’s buying us time."

A moment passed. Then you shimmered into view, just barely. Still half-cloaked, eyes locked on the beast as you held the field steady with both hands. "I’m not going to hold this long," you said through clenched teeth.

Clark finally saw you clearly. Not one of his team. Not someone from the Watchtower. But she was here, and she was saving their asses.

"Then let’s make it count," he said.

It took an impressive six minutes and thirteen seconds to take down The Abomination. Once it was down, you walked over to the group who landed together like a clique. "Sorry," you said, slowly turning visible before their very eyes. "One of ours."

"Of course it is," Guy scoffed.

You pointed at him, giving him a look of confusion. "Says the one who couldn't stop it until I got here."

"What the fuck are you doing here anyways?" Guy said. "This is Metropolis."

"I'm very much aware of that," you replied, dusting off your hands. "I'm moving here." You ignored Guy's very passionate and loud groan. "National City has no room for me to grow in my career, so I thought I'd give Metropolis a try."

Guy scoffed, "Does Flash know you're abandoning ship?"

"Yes, he does," you confirmed. "And he's very happy for me. Plus, with all the metahumans running around National City after the particle accelerator exploded, I think it'll be just fine without me."

"Shit," Hawkgirl smiled, "I've seen you on TV. You're Invisible Woman; you can make forcefields and turn invisible."

"And she can generate, if I’m reading the residual energy signatures right, concussive bursts with enough kinetic output to level small structures." You tilted your head at Mister Terrific. "Hi, Mister Terrific," he added after seeing the look on your face.

Guy frowned, "She's not that cool, guys."

"The grown ups are talking," you shot back, making Guy's mouth fall open as he sputtered out that's mean! "And I know all of you, which is really cool. Metamorpho, Hawkgirl, Guy, Terrific, and.. Superman. Hi."

Clark swallowed.

You smiled—just slightly—but didn’t hold his gaze long. Instead, you looked back at the now-smoldering crater where The Abomination had been. "His name used to be Frank Albright. Frank here was affected by the accelerator while transporting a truck full of reptiles to National City Zoo. You.. can guess what happened to him after. I've handled him before, but I think you guys accidentally made him stronger somehow. It was like holding down a building with my hands. He's.. also never this.. big."

Clark did not hear a single word you said. He was a little busy watching the way your hair blew in the wind and the way your mouth moved as you spoke.

"You kind of did," Metamorpho said, still catching his breath. "That shield trick? That was nuts."

"She has a name, right?" Hawkgirl asked, glancing between Clark and Guy.

"Yeah," you said, brushing a speck of dust off your jacket. "But Invisible Woman’s fine if we’re staying professional."

"We’re not," Guy mumbled.

"I vote professional," Mister Terrific added quickly.

Clark stepped forward, almost a little awkward. He didn't want to butt in. "You said you’re moving to Metropolis?"

You nodded. "New job offer. Labs in the north end. It’s more theoretical than hands-on, but.. I did not get it, so.."

"And you just happened to show up in the middle of a monster fight?" he asked, not accusing, just.. wondering.

You tilted your head. "I was already here. Interview finished twenty minutes before the big guy was on every Metropolis news channel. Thought I’d walk off the nerves, grab a coffee. Then the big guy showed up and ruined my latte."

Guy let out an exaggerated groan. "She always does this. Shows up, takes over, insults me, and somehow still looks like the reasonable one."

Hawkgirl smirked. "You make it easy."

Mister Terrific pulled up his T-Spheres, scanning the area. "Well, regardless of how she got here, the data doesn’t lie. That blindfield she put around its head? Brilliant. You disrupted its sensory matrix. The force cage? Custom density modulation. Your control over energy structuring is unlike anything I’ve seen. Especially from someone unaffiliated with a league."

You blinked. "I mean, thanks, but I’ve literally emailed you twice about the research at STAR labs."

"Wait. You’re her? The gravity-lens force shell theory? That was your email?!"

"Guilty."

Guy threw up his hands. "Oh great, now he’s starstruck too."

Clark smiled a little at that. He really didn't know you, but gee, did he really want to. Everyone was making you sound fantastic. "Sounds like we’ve been overdue for an introduction."

You held out your hand, giving him your name. "I'm sort of a scientist. I just learned a lot from my friends at STAR labs. I'm really a journalist—er.. trying to be one. I'm a blogger, really."

"Clark," he smiled. "Clark Kent."

The way your jaw dropped was near comical. "Clark.. Kent. Daily Planet journalist Clark Kent? The one with all the Superman—oh my god, that's how you get all the interviews!"

Clark laughed. Not a heroic, public-facing laugh, but a real, honest one, soft and almost shy. "Sorry. I don’t usually lead with that."

"You mean to tell me the man I’ve been quoting in articles is also the man who just suplexed a building-sized monster?!"

Guy muttered, "I tried to tell her that last time, too. She didn’t believe me."

"I thought you were being sarcastic! You said, Clark Kent is Superman, like you were making a joke about his glasses! Also, why on Earth would you actually tell me who Superman is, you idiot!"

Guy threw up his hands. "Because I was trying to warn you! You were going off about how he writes with bias and how it’s suspicious he gets all the Superman scoops—like I was just gonna let you spiral into a conspiracy blog!"

"I stand by that observation," you snapped, pointing accusingly at Clark. "Because it’s true! You were basically interviewing yourself! That’s not journalism, that’s—that's a loophole!"

Clark held up his hands. "In-In my defense, I do ask myself the hard questions." It was hard to ignore how gorgeous you were. Your words had Clark's cheeks turned pink in an instant.

"Oh my god," you muttered, dragging a hand down your face.

Guy grinned like he had just won the lottery. "So, are you gonna apologize for calling me a dumbass when I told you the truth?"

You shot him a glare. "Absolutely not."

Throwing his hands in the air, Guy turned away, literally kicking a rock angrily as he grumbled to himself. Metamorpho just carefully followed behind, almost like a babysitter of sorts. Imagine that, Green Lantern has a babysitter.

"So, you said you didn't get the job?" Hawkgirl curiously continued.

"Yeah, I wasn't what they were looking for," you awkwardly responded. "I'm gonna try some other places, see what I can get. Actually, this is my first day in Metropolis. You guys know any good hotels or anything?"

And that was exactly how Clark Kent found himself with a temporary roommate.

Sure, offering you a place to stay felt like the right thing to do. You were new in town, clearly resourceful, a hero, and let’s be honest—after wrangling a twenty-foot mutant lizard formerly known as Frank, you’d earned a soft bed and some clean towels.

But now, with you sitting cross-legged on his couch, laptop open, typing furiously about metahuman media bias in urban reporting while wearing an oversized Daily Planet t-shirt he swore he didn’t give you on purpose—

Now he was rethinking things.

Because you were brilliant. And sharp. And you called Guy out without hesitation, which was... actually kind of hot. And for some reason, the way you chewed on your bottom lip while editing made it very difficult for him to concentrate on the news broadcast quietly playing in the background.

"I can try and get you an interview at The Daily Planet," Clark blurted out suddenly.

You looked up from your laptop, blinking like you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. "..What?"

Clark cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of how loud the tea kettle wasn’t. "I mean—if you’re still looking for jobs. You said earlier you didn’t get the lab one, and I just thought—since you’re already writing, and blogging, and clearly have a voice—and you’ve already been published online, right? I could talk to Perry. I mean, you probably wouldn't start out as a journalist, maybe something else, but—"

"Clark."

He stopped mid-ramble.

"Thank you," you said softly, a small smile on your face. "You really think Perry would give me a shot?"

"I really think he’d be an idiot not to."

You stared at him a beat longer, then let out a breath, the kind you only exhale when something finally clicks. "Well," you said, stretching a little. "Guess I should update my resume."

Clark smiled at your words. After a moment, he asked, "How did you get them?" You looked up, head tilted at him. "Your powers, I mean. You said they were from the STAR labs particle accelerator explosion, but.."

"That’s a big question," you said.

Clark tilted his head, hands relaxed on his knees. "You don’t have to tell me."

"No, it’s okay." You set your laptop aside, drawing your knees up a little on the couch. "Just.. not something I talk about a lot. Most people assume I got lucky. That I was some random bystander who just happened to walk through a cloud of science and come out gifted."

He didn’t say anything—just waited, quiet and open.

"I was in the sub-levels," you continued. "At STAR Labs. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was following up on a tip, some whistleblower said the lab was hiding preliminary safety data. I was freelancing then, trying to get noticed, and I thought.. if I exposed them, I’d finally get taken seriously."

Clark’s brows furrowed slightly. "And then the explosion happened?"

You nodded once, eyes distant. "I was right next to the core when it ruptured. Radiation, energy discharge, everything. I should’ve died." You paused, then gave a half-laugh. "I actually did for like.. two minutes. Clinically. But then my heart jump-started itself. Literally. That was the first time a forcefield triggered—my own body keeping everything out."

Clark’s eyes widened. "That’s.."

"Yeah. Terrifying. Weird. Physically disorienting. You know. Super normal." You smiled a little, then shrugged. "After that, it took months to get control. For a while, my hair and my hands kept phasing invisible and wouldn’t come back. The STAR Labs team that remained helped stabilize me, ran diagnostics, taught me how to regulate it, but I never really fit in with them. They became friends, good friends, but really.. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

Clark’s face was unreadable, but his eyes—those damn, kind eyes—held steady. "They were lucky to have you."

You gave him a look. "You don’t even know me."

"I know enough," he said gently. "You risked your life today to stop something no one else could. You didn’t hesitate. And you’re sitting here now, not demanding praise, but quietly updating your resume and thinking about a new job."

Your throat felt a little tight. "I didn’t want powers," you admitted. "I just wanted to write. Tell the truth. Make people listen. Ironically, my powers make me literally invisible."

Clark smiled softly. "Then maybe now you can do both."

You stared at him a moment longer, then looked away with a breathy laugh. "Are you always this nice?"

He looked down, sheepish. "I try."

You stood up slowly, fingers brushing your laptop as you picked it up. "I’m gonna go shower now, before you say something else that makes me question my emotional stability."

Clark grinned. "Third door on the right."

As you walked down the hall, you called back, "And don’t go reading my resume while I’m gone, Kent!"

He chuckled, sinking back into the couch. But the truth was, he didn’t need to read your resume. He already knew you were something extraordinary.

Which was exactly how you got your job as a journalist for The Daily Planet. Clark wasn't entirely sure how you got the job. Maybe it was how you called Perry Perry and not Chief from your first introduction.

Or maybe it was how you walked into the bullpen like you already belonged there, laptop under one arm, confidence under the other, and zero fear in your eyes even as every other person looked you up and down, analyzing your every move.

Maybe it was the way you handed in a trial article the same day you were hired, titled The Myth of Superhero Objectivity: Are We Getting the Full Truth? and still somehow walked away employed.

Or maybe, Clark thought, it was the moment Perry read the piece, raised one eyebrow, and muttered, "Well, hell. Someone finally decided to grow a spine around here."

Clark remembered watching the whole thing unfold from his desk, completely bewildered by how quickly you had settled into the newsroom like you were born for it. One second you were apologizing for stealing his mug—again—and the next you were in a heated debate with Steve Lombard about metahuman ethics and whether or not vigilante reporting should fall under sports or crime.

You won. Loudly.

And now? Now you had your own desk across from his. A stack of post-it notes, coffee rings already staining the edge, and a cracked screen on your tablet because apparently forcefields don’t protect against clumsiness.

"Hey, Kent." You peeked over your monitor, holding up a file. "Does Perry like exposés with footnotes or without?"

Clark glanced up from his own article, lips twitching. "With. But only if you’re prepared to explain every single one."

"I live to explain footnotes."

"You live to argue."

You grinned. "Same thing."

And Clark just smiled.

Because even if he couldn’t quite explain it—how quickly you’d become part of this life, how easily you’d carved out space in both his home and his work—he didn’t question it.

Neither did you.

To you, Clark Kent wasn't Superman. Superman was Clark Kent.

In all honesty, if just a few months ago, someone were to ask you who you liked better: Clark Kent or Superman? You'd say Clark Kent. He was a master journalist with more front pages than you could ever imagine yourself having.

Clark was also never freaked out by your invisibility. In fact, he always chuckled whenever something embarrassing would happen and you'd have to hide some part of yourself that had gone invisible. Slowly, Superman and Invisible Woman were nearly always seen working together to help save the city.

Perry’s front pages even started pairing your names.

Superman and Invisible Woman Prevent Tidal Catastrophe

Justice Pair Save Metropolis from Interdimensional Breach

Forcefield and Flight: The New Dynamic Duo?

Not that anyone knew what that actually meant. Not yet. Not even you.

Because Clark was still Clark. Gentle. Steady. The kind of person who saved the world and still offered to do the dishes. And you were still you. Deflecting with sarcasm, writing exposés by day and deflecting plasma beams by night, pretending like you didn’t feel something tighten in your chest every time he called you partner.

But it was there.

And every time he looked at you like you were more than just part of the job, more than a byline or a backup, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending.

You told yourself it was just admiration. Just the thrill of working alongside one of the most iconic heroes in the world. Just the adrenaline of sharing a byline with Clark Kent, Superman.

But late at night after the rooftop rescues, the deadline sprints, the spontaneous pizza on the fire escape, there was a part of you that knew better. It wasn’t about the cape. Or the headlines. Or the city that never seemed to stop falling apart.

It was about the way he looked at you when you weren’t invisible. And even when you were.

Because somehow, Clark always saw you. Even in the silence between conversations, in the moments when your forcefields slipped, when you were too tired to be clever or guarded or strong—he saw you. And he never looked away.

"You ever miss Krypton?" You asked one night curiously, a half eaten slice of pizza in your hand.

Clark looked up from his seat across the couch, surprised. It wasn't by the question itself, but by the way you asked it. Casual. Soft. Like it had been sitting at the edge of your tongue for weeks, waiting for a quiet enough night to slip out.

The room was lit only by the lamp near the window and the flickering light of some old black-and-white movie playing in the background, but neither of you really watching it. The kind of night where the city felt quiet.

Clark leaned back, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don’t know if you can miss something you never really knew," he said after a moment, voice low.

You didn’t respond right away. Just nodded slowly, the slice of pizza forgotten in your hand.

"But sometimes.." he continued, "I think about what it would’ve been like. Who I might’ve been. Who my parents were. What they dreamed of. If they would’ve been proud of me."

You turned your head, eyes meeting his across the narrow space between you. "They would’ve loved you," you said quietly. "They would’ve been so proud."

Clark blinked, taken aback—not by the words, but by how fiercely you meant them. He offered you a soft, grateful smile. One of those half-smiles that didn’t reach all the way to his lips, but burned in his eyes.

"You think so?"

"I know so," you replied. "Because I know you. And if they were anything like you.." You shrugged. "Then Krypton was lucky to have them."

The comfortable silence between you stretched. You set your plate down on the coffee table and shifted a little closer, pulling your knees to your chest.

Clark’s voice was even softer now. "You ever think about what life would’ve been like if the accelerator hadn’t exploded?"

You breathed out a quiet laugh, but it wasn’t really funny. "All the time."

"Do you wish it never happened?"

You looked down, fingers brushing along the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. "Yeah," you softly said. "I wish it never happened.. the fact that it happened because someone covered up data and didn’t care who got hurt. But the powers?" You glanced back up at him, catching the way he was watching you again, like you were made of stars and secrets. "I think they found me for a reason. I just don’t always know what that reason is."

Clark nodded slowly. "I think you’re still figuring it out."

"I think I’m terrified of that."

He smiled again, gently this time, like it wasn’t just okay to be scared, it was expected. "I am too."

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Then, after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper, "Do you ever feel.. alone?"

Clark’s gaze didn’t waver. "I think so. Until I met you. Felt like a whole new chapter in my life. You living here, working with me, being my best friend."

The room went still. The movie in the background didn’t matter. The pizza had long gone cold. And suddenly, your heart was loud in your chest.

You swallowed hard. "Clark.."

But he didn’t lean in. He didn’t move a muscle. He wished he had. So did you.

Over the next few weeks, it was almost like the tension was building up.

It sat in the spaces between words. In the brush of your shoulders at the office printer. In the way your mugs were always side by side in the kitchen sink. In the late nights where you both stayed too long at The Planet, pretending the deadlines were why.

It was in the way Clark looked at you a second too long when you laughed. In the way your voice softened when you said his name. In the fact that neither of you ever brought up that night on the couch.

Not once. But the air changed around you.

He stopped knocking before walking into the living room. You stopped apologizing for falling asleep on the couch with your laptop open. He started learning how you liked your coffee—extra cream, no sugar—and you started keeping two spare ties in the hall closet just in case.

You never called it domestic. Neither of you would dare. But it was. Quietly, undeniably domestic.

The missions didn’t help.

Superman and Invisible Woman were a tag team now. The public started calling you the Sky and Surface. There were headlines, photos, footage. A whole Reddit thread dedicated to your dynamic, most of which you definitely didn’t scroll through at midnight while Clark was asleep down the hall.

He would hover close when you took a hit in battle. You would always know where he was before he said your name.

And still, no one moved. That was until now.

It was just some Imp from somewhere across the vast universe, but it was strong enough that you were tired. Clark was frustrated. He wasn’t angry at you. He never was. But he was frustrated because you were tired.

And the Imp—what was it this time, Mxyzptlk’s cousin?—was playing a game neither of you had the patience for. Looping physics, rewriting gravity mid-punch, and cackling like a cartoon villain as your forcefields cracked under the pressure of keeping civilians safe.

"Enough," Clark growled, low and warning.

He blurred forward, a red-and-blue streak of controlled fury, tackling the creature mid-air and sending them both crashing through a billboard high above the city. You landed below, hard on your knees, catching your breath, your fingers buzzing with strain.

"Need some help?"

You sighed, "You’ve gotta be kidding me."

Guy, along with the rest of the Justice Gang, grinned from ear to ear as they hovered above you. He looked as smug as ever. "Seems like this guy’s giving you hell," Guy replied, looking over to where Clark was trying to freeze it with his breath.

You grunted. "He’s been rewriting the laws of thermodynamics for twenty minutes. I’m working on fumes here."

"Hey, no shame in that." Guy grinned. "I figured you could use a hand. Or five."

Hawkgirl rolled her eyes. "Let’s be honest, Guy’s just here to make snarky commentary."

"Which is emotionally vital to team morale," he fired back.

You shook your head. "Please. Just hit the damn thing."

"Gladly." Hawkgirl launched herself into the sky, a golden streak of righteous fury, and slammed her mace into the Imp’s path just as he tried to blink away.

Mister Terrific landed beside you a moment later, his T-Spheres hovering protectively overhead. He took one look at your face, pale, jaw clenched, hands still trembling from overuse, and frowned. "Stay here," he said, gentle but firm. "Catch your breath. Your field’s flickering."

You opened your mouth to argue, because of course you did. But he raised a hand before you could get a single word out.

"I know you can keep going. That’s not the point." His voice lowered, calm and even. "But you’re running on fumes, and I need you at one hundred percent in case this thing gets worse. So take the break. Recharge."

You hesitated, guilt bubbling under your ribs like static.

"I’m serious," he added. "Let the rest of us carry the next few minutes. You’ve done more than enough."

You finally let yourself sink to the curb, one knee drawn up, fingers pressing into your temples. The cool concrete felt almost good against your skin. Your forcefields wavered, then shimmered out completely. Rest mode.

Clark touched down beside you a beat later, crouching low enough that his shoulder brushed yours. "Hey, hey. You okay?" His voice was soft. Too soft.

You nodded before you even processed the question, which probably gave you away.

Clark’s brow furrowed. "You’re shaking."

"I’m just—" You inhaled sharply, fingers curling into your lap. "I’m fine. Just hit my limit. It’ll pass."

Clark didn’t say anything right away. He shifted so he was fully facing you now, one knee on the ground, hand braced against the pavement. You couldn’t look at him. Not like this. Not with the exhaustion catching up to you and your adrenaline crashing hard.

"I’ve never seen you drop your field like that," he said quietly. "Not even when we fought Parasite."

You finally glanced at him, your throat dry. "This guy hit different."

Clark’s eyes searched yours like he was trying to read between the lines. "You don’t have to prove anything, you know that, right? Not to me. Not to them."

"I’m not," you said, and it wasn’t a lie exactly, but it wasn’t entirely true either.

He saw it. Of course he did.

"You don’t have to save the whole world by yourself," he added, even gentler now. "That’s kind of.. my thing."

You let out a weak laugh, one that cracked somewhere in the middle. Clark reached out slowly and rested his hand on your knee. Just pressure, presence.

"I hate seeing you like this," he said. "And I know you hate being seen like this."

"So let’s not be seen."

Clark couldn’t even get a moment to protest when he realized a barrier had gone around the two of you, making you invisible. He blinked at the sudden shift in light, the rest of the world fading into a soft blur beyond your invisible forcefield. Just the two of you, tucked inside a bubble of silence and bent light, the chaos and smoke of the battle muffled outside.

He didn’t speak. Not right away. Just crouched beside you, still and steady.

The hum of your field buzzed gently between your palms, the glow faint, flickering—like the heartbeat of something private. Something sacred.

"I just needed a second," you said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "Not to hide. Just.. to be. Without all of them looking."

Clark nodded. "Yeah. I get it."

Your eyes flicked toward him, a hint of surprise there. "Do you?"

He smiled, just a little. "I think we both spend a lot of time being what people expect. Sometimes you just want to take the cape off for a minute."

You let out a breath, soft and tired. "Exactly."

A few beats passed. Your forcefield crackled gently above you, and from the outside, no one would’ve guessed the world’s strongest man was sitting on a broken curb with someone who could barely hold her eyes open.

But in here? It was enough.

Clark shifted just slightly closer, the warmth of him grounding you. "You did good today."

"Barely."

"You did," he insisted, gentler now. "You always do."

You looked at him—really looked—and for a moment, it wasn’t Superman staring back at you. It was Clark. The man who made you tea when you had a migraine. The man who knew your coffee order better than you did. The man who never once asked you to be stronger than you already were.

"I think," you said softly, "this might be my favorite part of the job."

"What part?"

"This. Right now. Just.. you and me."

Clark's gaze didn’t waver. "Then let’s stay a little longer."

Clark sat close enough that his knee brushed yours. His hand was still on your leg, thumb gently moving back and forth like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. You looked at him again.

Not the suit, not the symbol, not the myth. Just the man. With the unruly hair and the soft eyes and the weight of the world tucked behind a smile that was always just for you.

Your voice, when it came, was almost a whisper. "Do you ever get tired of waiting?"

Clark tilted his head. "For what?"

"For the right time."

He didn’t say anything. But his eyes said enough. So you leaned in—just slightly. A test. A question.

And he met you halfway.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t desperate. It was slow, almost cautious, like neither of you wanted to break the moment you’d spent months circling. His hand slid up, resting lightly against your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. Your fingers curled in the fabric of his suit. And when your lips finally met his, it felt like exhaling for the first time in hours.

The kiss was soft. Sure. Familiar in a way it had no right to be.

Clark pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his smile blooming so gently it hurt.

"Your forcefield is.." You looked up to see what he meant. It was flickering, the rainbow’d look of the energy was dancing around the waves of energy.

"I’ve never seen it do that before," you whispered.

Clark smiled, forehead still resting against yours. "Maybe it’s responding to you."

"To us," you corrected softly.

His hand found yours—fingers lacing without hesitation—and you let yourself lean into him, the exhaustion melting just slightly at the edges of your ribs. "Think it’ll hold a little longer?" he asked.

You looked at the glowing field around you both, then back at him. "I think it’ll hold for as long as we want it to."

Clark smiled, leaned in again. While ignoring the swears from Guy, the screeches from Hawkgirl, and the loud grunts of the imp, the moment was perfect.

You two were perfect.

#auroral writing #auroralwriting #dcu #dc comics #superman #superman movie #superman x reader #superman x you #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #kal el #dc fanfic #superman 2025 #david corenswet

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yogirl-willow · 9 days ago

Text

The Crimson Pact | Part 14

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You were never supposed to remember them.

Four hundred years ago, a pact was made—a blood-soaked bond tying five demons to one human soul: yours.

They’ve waited lifetimes for your reincarnation, cursed with obsession, tethered by fate.

And now that you’ve returned?

They’ll burn the world before they let you go again.

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, romantic psychological tension, intense emotional fixation, yearning, emotional manipulation, hurt/comfort, angst, fight scenes, moral dilemmas.

A/N: It's me, hi, I might be the problem, it's me. Turns out I had more of this chapter done than I realized today haha. Got so in the zone I ended up finishing it. I hope you guys have your tissues at the ready, as this is quite an intense chapter. I stayed up late tonight to make sure I wrote it all out! Trust me tho when I say things will get better! But this chapter is very much necessary for the plot building. So I hope you guys are ready for the (necessary) emotional rollercoaster. I hope you guys enjoy!

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

The Saja boys are all demons.

They are wrath and ruin. Jealousy and death.

And yet, before her, they kneel.

Because she is the Heart. Because her soul is what keeps them from unraveling into true monsters. Because they were bound by her love and her curse.

They don’t just crave her—they depend on her. Without her presence, their minds deteriorate. Their bodies decay. Their hunger becomes unbearable.

Only Y/N’s touch tames the demon inside.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Names (For those who get confused): Haneul (Abby), Seoha (Romance), Hwimori/Hwi (Mystery), Seungho (Baby)

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Part 14:

A Heaven Built on Hell

The rehearsal hall throbbed with the pounding bass of the pre-show mix, every light calibrated, every move rehearsed down to the millisecond. A perfect illusion. The boys stood center stage, surrounded by stylists, choreographers, and managers fine-tuning the Idol Awards showcase.

But their minds weren't in it.

Haneul adjusted his mic pack, jaw tight, gaze distant. The lyrics of their opening number echoed around him, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He could still see your face from that morning—the way your smile faltered, the flash of disappointment when you asked, "Don’t you want me there?"

He clenched his fists. That look had haunted him all day.

"She looked crushed," Hwimori murmured beside him, stretching out his arms half-heartedly. "Like we were shutting a door in her face."

Seungho scoffed under his breath. "It’s for her safety. You know that."

"Yeah? Then why do I feel like the villain?" Hwimori asked.

Jinu approached, voice calm but eyes hard. "We can’t risk her getting involved. Not with what’s going to happen. Not with what we have to do."

They gathered in the corner near the equipment crates, voices low. "Thousands," Seoha muttered, arms crossed. "Gwi Ma wants thousands of souls tomorrow. The awards give us everything he needs—chaos, energy, desire."

"And Huntrix won’t see it coming," Seungho added. "We’ll collapse their stage. Sabotage their performance. Cut their frequency. Make sure they’re too busy scrambling to even breathe."

"She can’t see that," Jinu said flatly. "She can’t see what we’ll do."

Silence. Heavy and suffocating. The tension spiraled inward. Hwimori sat on a speaker, eyes fixed on his hands. "Do you think Gwi Ma will really keep his promise? That he’ll leave her untouched?"

Jinu didn’t answer at first.

"He better," Seoha said through gritted teeth. "Because if he doesn’t, there won’t be a realm left standing."

And then came the moment. That aching, silent moment where their justifications cracked open and their truths spilled through. Haneul muttered, almost to himself. "We’re really going through with this. Selling souls to save one."

"She’s not just one," Seungho said, his voice edged with heat. "She’s everything."

Jinu’s voice was cold steel. "If this is what it takes to keep her safe, then we sacrifice whoever we need to."

A hush. They all stood in it—hearing the weight of that sentence. And yet, guilt flickered. Hwimori trembled as he spoke. "She’s kind. Good. She’d never want this. Never agree to this."

"That’s why she can’t know," Seoha said, eyes dark. "Because she’d beg us to stop. Even if it meant dying."

Jinu finally broke his silence. "She’s our heart, our soul. But she was born in light. We weren’t. We never were."

And now came the reckoning. Their silent, collective decision. That they would become monsters for you. If they had to be cruel so you could be kind, then so be it. If they had to stain their hands so yours could stay clean, they would. If they had to wade through hell just to keep you smiling, then hell would burn beneath their feet.

They would sacrifice their morality, their souls, their humanity. They would become the darkness to preserve your light. Because you were the only thing left worth saving.

Jinu pressed a hand to his chest, where he still felt the echo of your heartbeat through the bond. "We’ll bear the guilt," he said. "So she never has to."

Jinu stepped off the stage and walked a few paces away, far from the crew, from the world. He closed his eyes. For a moment, he just breathed. In his mind, he saw you. Laughing in the kitchen, dancing to their song. They loved you. That was never the question.

But love wasn't enough. Love demanded price. And they would pay it.

He felt the guilt bloom again in his chest, thick and black. They were monsters already. What was one more sin on their hands if it meant you stayed safe?

He thought of the souls that would be torn from screaming bodies tomorrow. He thought of your hands, the way they held theirs so gently. The way you said their names like a blessing. He thought of how you’d look at them if you ever found out.

Would you scream? Would you run? Would you hate them? He knew somehow that you would. Because that meant you still had your goodness. They’d lost theirs long ago.

Just then, there was sharp tapping. The loud flap of wings. Derpy bounded onto the stage in an awkward blur of blue fur, eyes rolling like he was mid-panic. And right behind him, the little magpie with the tiny hat swooped low, landing with erratic chirps on a speaker stack.

Everyone froze. “…What are you doing here?” Jinu asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re supposed to be with—"

The magpie interrupted with a burst of squawks, hopping rapidly. Derpy paced in a tight anxious circle, tail twitching. Haneul took a step forward. “They’re agitated.”

Something was wrong. And then it hit.

Hwimori gasped— like something had pierced his lungs. He staggered, hand gripping a lighting rig to stay upright, chest heaving.

“Hwi?!” Seungho rushed forward.

“She’s scared,” Hwimori choked. “So scared—I don’t know why—something’s hurting her—!”

His voice cracked into a whimper. His knees nearly buckled. Then the bond surged. A ripple of dread so pure it howled through their souls. Seoha stiffened, hands curling. “This isn’t ordinary distress. She’s terrified.” He was already thinking—calculating every possibility, his mind racing with dark scenarios.

Jinu’s mouth went dry. He could feel it too—your panic. A flood. A scream. Like you were lost in darkness and reaching for them.

Seungho’s jaw clenched so tightly it looked like his teeth might crack. His chest burned. “She’s in danger,” he growled, already moving.

Haneul was right behind him. “Where is she?!”

Hwimori’s hand flew to his chest, fingers spread across the pull of the soulbond like it might help him track you. “I can feel her. I’ll find her.”

“You’re not going alone,” Seungho said. “Let’s go.”

“No one’s stopping me,” Haneul barked, already halfway to the exit.

They didn’t wait for approval. They didn’t look back. The three of them bolted—past the stage lights, the managers, the startled crew.

One of the managers turned, frantic. “Wait, where are you guys going—!”

Security shouted, managers moved to chase after—but it was too late. Seoha stepped forward to intercept. “Let them go,” he said coolly, voice like a blade. “It’s a family emergency.”

“What kind of emergency—?”

“Do you want your face broken?” Jinu growled. “Then stay out of the way.”

He turned back to the stage, hands trembling, fury bubbling beneath his skin. He couldn’t go. Even when every bone in his body screamed at him to bolt after them to get to you. Not now. Not when Gwi Ma’s eyes were already watching their every move. They’d be risking everything if they abandoned the awards. He had to stay. To keep up their stupid appearances. Or Gwi Ma would be at their necks.

But every part of him screamed to run.

Please… be safe.

His eyes flicked to the magpie and Derpy, who still twitched nervously on the edge of the stage. Seoha’s knuckles were white on the railing. He wanted to bolt too at the first sign of your distress. But Jinu had to stay. He couldn’t leave hyung to deal with the pain of not being able to go alone. He trusted that the three would get to you on time. They were creatures of instinct, afterall.

Jinu whispered, like a curse, like a prayer—

“Find her. Now.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Fear.

It consumed you. Flooded your chest like a rising tide, choking out your breath as the massive demon lumbered closer. Your back hit the wall of the train with a hollow thud as you scrambled away from him, fingers clawing uselessly at the slick glass behind you. He was a nightmare come to life—every line of his body radiated malice. Nothing like the boys. Nothing like the beautiful demons who had kissed your cheeks and whispered their love into your skin.

He stopped in front of you, and when his eyes drank you in, a grin split across his jagged, horned face. “Well, you’re a lot smaller than I expected,” he drawled. His voice was rough, guttural. Mocking. “And here I thought the one bonded to them would be… bigger. Meaner. Stronger.”

Your lips trembled as you shook your head, unable to form a single word.

“Where are they, little thing?” he crooned, crouching in front of you with a bone-chilling smile. “Where are your little demon knights? I heard they follow you everywhere. Watch your every step. Guard you like a prized possession.”

He laughed, deep and low, like a predator toying with its food. Then, without warning, his clawed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You screamed and thrashed, desperately trying to break free from his harsh grip. He yanked you forward with frightening ease, pulling your face mere inches from his own. His breath was rancid, metallic. His grin widened as he inhaled the scent of your fear.

“Smell as sweet as they said you would,” he whispered, eyes glowing red-hot. “You’ve been quite the curiosity in the Under. Everyone talks about the girl who tamed the Five. The soulbonded one. The anomaly. And now I get to see it for myself.”

His clawed fingers tilted your chin upward. “Tell me… what would they do if I cracked you open like a shell and made you cry for me? Would they burn the world? I think they would. I think that’s why I have to see it.”

Your body was trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps. Tears formed in your eyes.

“Funny, isn’t it?” he sneered. “So many demons admired them. Worshipped them. But some of us? Some of us envied their strength. Envied their power. And you… you were the source of it? You pathetic, shaking little—”

A blinding flash.

The demon’s body jerked mid-sentence. A sickening crack echoed through the train as a blade pierced clean through his back. His eyes widened in shock before his entire form began to disintegrate—black smoke sizzling away into the air like acid mist.

He vanished and you collapsed. The floor of the train felt cold and distant beneath your knees, but it was the weight of your own heartbeat that truly brought you down. You were crying—you didn’t even remember starting. Your breath came in shallow gasps.

“Y/N?” a voice said. Familiar, but not. Sharp with disbelief. You looked up.

A girl stood in front of you, weapon drawn. Her stance was rigid with fury, but her face—her face was shock, and recognition. Tall, almost looming. Her hot pink hair was long behind her shoulders. Her Moon Blade dripped with dark ichor where she’d just ended your attacker. She was breathing hard.

You stared at her. This was Mira. She was terrifying… but also your savior. Behind her, two more girls approached cautiously. Rumi and Zoey.

“Y/N!” Zoey gasped, kneeling immediately at your side. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You flinched when she reached toward you, scooting back instinctively. Your limbs wouldn’t stop shaking.

“She’s in shock,” Rumi said quietly, kneeling beside Zoey, her face soft and apologetic.

Mira’s jaw was tight. Her eyes darted around the train car, scanning the empty seats. Her hands gripped her weapon tightly. So many souls. Gone.

You heard footsteps. You felt hands. But you were frozen in your own panic, your own confusion. Why had no one else seen them? Why had it only been you?

“Hey, Y/N,” Zoey said softly, “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Safe?

You looked up slowly. Doubt filled your eyes as you stared at the girls. They were hunters. The very people the boys had warned you about. And yet… They had saved you. From those monsters.

“What…” your voice cracked. It sounded foreign. “What were those things?”

All three girls stilled. You asked a question you already knew the answer to, but refused to believe. Please don’t say it.

“Demons,” Mira said flatly. You blinked at her. Your head shook before you even realized it was shaking.

No. No, no, no. They weren’t— They couldn’t be— They weren’t like your boys. They were monsters. Faceless horrors. Your demons were nothing like that. Looked nothing like that. Did nothing like that…

The train jolted gently to a stop. Rumi offered her hand. “Here. Can you stand?”

You stared at her hand, heart pounding in your ears. They had just saved your life. Your body moved on its own. You reached up and took her hand. The moment your skin met hers, something hummed beneath your feet.

A soft pulse.

All four of you froze as the Honmoon shimmered faintly—like the veil between you had briefly flickered open. Your eyes locked. No one said anything, but there was confusion for a breath of a moment.

Rumi helped you up carefully. The train doors hissed open, and Zoey reached to steady you as you all stepped out onto the platform. The station was eerily quiet.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked. “Are you hurt?”

Your body tensed again. Her touch had been gentle, but still, your walls shot back up. You flinched away from their hold. The girls looked pained.

“What were those things?” you repeated. “They can’t be demons. They weren’t— They can’t be—”

“They were demons,” Mira said again, harder this time. “And they sucked the souls out of every single person on that train.”

“No…” you whispered. “No, that can’t be true.”

They can’t be the same. They can’t be like them. The boys were gentle. Loving. Protective. You had seen them cry. Laugh. Hold you close at night. You had felt their hearts. They were monsters, but that was then. When they had lost you. Now… they were devoted. Caring. They didn’t suck souls and kill innocent people without reason…

The monsters on the train… They had no hearts.

“That’s what demons do,” Mira said, stepping forward, voice firm with certainty. “They suck the souls of humans and channel them back to their king. To Gwi Ma.”

The name hit you like a slap. You recoiled, eyes wide. “No. No, that’s— Those are different demons! They must be— They’re not the same, they’re not—!”

“That’s what all demons do, Y/N,” Mira snapped. “And the ones you’re with? They’re responsible for all of this.”

“Mira,” Rumi hissed, reaching to stop her. She saw your expression—saw your entire soul begin to crumble. Mira shrugged her off. “No, she has to know. If she’s soulbonded to them, if she’s—”

“How do you know that?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Rumi and Zoey froze. “So it’s true,” Zoey whispered. “You are soulbonded to them?”

You said nothing. Just stared. Torn between panic and betrayal. “They’re nothing like those demons,” you finally said, voice shaking. “They wouldn’t… they wouldn’t do something like that.”

“They’re the whole reason this is happening!” Mira snapped. “That’s why they formed that boyband in the first place!”

Your heart clenched. No. No, no, no— That’s not true. They said it was for protection. For you.

“The Honmoon,” Mira continued, fury rising. “It’s powered by us. By our voices. It keeps the demons at bay. But the Saja Boys? They’ve been weakening it. Disrupting it. Performing to undo it. They’re feeding Gwi Ma the souls of every person in their audience.”

“No—” you gasped. “You’re lying— They wouldn’t— They’d never—”

“Really?” Mira barked. “Then why haven’t they told you anything? Why haven’t they ever taken you to their shows and performances? Why do they keep you isolated?”

You froze. A sliver of doubt slid under your skin like a knife. That… was true. They hadn’t shown you much. Had always brushed off questions. Had kept you hidden, protected, surrounded. To keep you safe. They said.

Your stomach churned. You knew how protective they were. How precious you were to them. If they were really doing this… you knew it was within bounds for them to hide this from you so you never see it. They always did that. Hide things from you, choose things for you.

To keep you safe.

“Mira, that’s enough,” Rumi warned, stepping between her and you.

“Why don’t you want to tell her?” Mira growled. “What are you so scared of?”

“JUST LOOK AT HER!”

Rumi’s voice cracked. All three girls turned to face you. You weren’t crying. But you looked destroyed. Utterly shattered. Your lips parted like you might say something—but nothing came out. Zoey stepped toward you again, heart aching at the sight.

Rumi felt her own chest clench. Why hadn’t you known? Had Jinu not told you because he feared losing you? Had the boys hidden the truth to protect you… or to keep you? And now—now the truth was out. Could this break the bond? What would happen to you? How would you ever look at them the same?

You wanted to deny it. Wanted to scream that they were wrong. That your boys would never—

But a quiet, rational voice inside you whispered the one thing you couldn’t ignore. It made sense. The secrecy. The lies. The way their eyes always clouded when you brought up Huntrix, their songs, their performances. The desperation. The sacrifices. Their silence.

“That… can’t be true,” you whispered. But your voice cracked. And the pain in your eyes said you already believed it.

Zoey tried to reach you again. But you stepped back. “You’re just saying this to get to them,” you said, trembling. “They wouldn’t— They couldn’t— You’re just—”

You stopped.

Their faces weren’t twisted with hatred. They didn’t look victorious. They looked… Sorry. So sorry. And in that moment, you realized—

Maybe you didn’t even believe your own words anymore.

You had to hear it from them. Demand the truth. Because you had already given them your heart and soul. You knew of their pain, their misery. How they’d do anything and everything for you. But you needed to know everything. And it had to come from them.

And then suddenly, the air rippled, reality bending for just a moment as three figures appeared, sharp and sudden—Haneul, Seungho, and Hwimori. Their eyes, wild and searching, landed on you instantly. You stood trembling beside Huntrix—Zoey’s arm still half-extended toward you, Mira holding her Moon Blade loosely at her side, and Rumi… Rumi just staring.

Haneul’s shoulders were heaving, chest rising and falling with barely leashed fury as his gaze locked onto you—disheveled, tear-stained, flinching beside three women who wanted him dead. His heart stopped.

Seungho’s hands clenched at his sides, jaw tightening, eyes raking over your form to make sure you were still breathing, still standing. But when they found your expression—fearful, confused—his stomach dropped.

Hwimori staggered a step, still trembling from the soulbond's echo of your terror. But as soon as he saw you flinch away from the others, something snapped.

“Y/N!” Haneul’s voice was a guttural shout, more beast than man. His amber eyes scanned every inch of your form, landing on the way your body leaned slightly away from the girls. “What the fuck did they do to you?!”

Before you could speak, before anyone could, Seungho had already lunged. “They touched her.” His voice was cold. Wrathful. “I felt her panic. I felt her scream.”

Mira immediately stepped in front of you, Moon Blade gleaming in her hands.

“Wait—” Zoey began, stepping forward, but Hwimori was already between her and you, fangs bared, his body tense with barely held rage. She raised her arms defensively, throwing blades at the ready to defend herself.

“You did this to her!” Hwimori growled at Rumi, voice trembling with emotion. Rumi’s sword flared into existence in her hand, her stance lowering protectively in front of you. This made him growl in anger. “She was terrified—I felt it like it was my own body—! What the hell did you do?!”

“They saved me,” you tried to say. Your voice came out hoarse and too quiet. No one heard.

Mira scoffed, stepping forward now, blade at the ready. “Typical. You show up after the damage is done and think you’re the saviors. You’re the reason she was in danger in the first place!”

Haneul snarled, his hand already crackling with violet heat. “I’ll kill you.”

“Try it,” Mira spat.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The three girls who had saved you were now on the defensive—your boys advancing like predators. “No—stop,” you whispered. But no one heard you.

“Move,” Seungho growled. “Now.”

“She was crying when we found her,” Zoey shot back, eyes blazing. “Because of your kind.”

“She’s our soulbond,” Haneul snarled, taking another step forward. The air warped with heat and fury. “And you’re standing too close.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. You stared at your boys—at the rage in their eyes, the shadows curling around their limbs, the way their talons pulsed with barely contained violence. You’d never seen them like this. Not even when angry. This was feral. Defensive. Terrified.

They think the girls hurt you. Your stomach twisted. But they didn’t hurt you. They saved you. They were protecting you. But now your protectors were attacking your rescuers.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mira yelled, lunging forward.

Haneul met her blade with his own crackling fist, a burst of force slamming into her as they collided. Sparks flew. Moonlight danced off steel. The fight had begun.

Hwimori was already clashing with Zoey—her enchanted blades flying through the air as he dodged, ducked, flipped, and retaliated with soundwaves that cracked windows down the block. He roared, a growl in his throat like an animal defending its mate.

Seungho charged at Rumi, her blade immediately meeting his arms—his skin hardening on impact, stone-like. He didn’t even flinch. His own dark energy lashed out, a swipe of his hand sending shockwaves into the pavement. The ground split between them.

“No– No— Don’t fight–!” you gasped, clutching your chest. Your body trembled, still too weak from earlier. Your head was spinning. You tried to scream for them to stop, but your voice caught in your throat.

Inside, a storm brewed.

You couldn’t process it all fast enough. The girls had saved you. But the boys had come for you, eyes wild with desperation. You could feel Haneul’s rage like a wildfire. Hwimori’s anguish in every movement. Seungho’s fury barely contained behind his deadened eyes. But the girls—they were right too, weren’t they?

They told you the truth. Or at least, a version of it that made your chest cave in and your breath feel shallow. They said the boys were behind the souls being taken, that they were destroying the Honmoon, all to feed Gwi Ma. You didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t. But now here they were, fighting like animals—no, demons.

Just like those creatures on the train. Were they any different?

You staggered back as the station lit up with magic and rage. Fear gripped you. They’re going to kill each other. They don’t even see you anymore. They only see enemies.

Mira shouted something at Haneul, and he struck her blade with a fist of molten energy.

Zoey hurled two more blades. One grazed Hwimori’s arm, and he howled like a beast, his eyes glowing gold with power.

Seungho surged forward, knocking Rumi back against a pillar.

Your voice finally broke through your panic, and it came out cracked and desperate.

“STOP—!!”

Your scream ripped through the air like thunder. The sound was raw. Shaking. Wounded. The Honmoon shimmered. The soulbond screamed. Magic still littered in the air like lightning trapped in a cage. You stood in the center, eyes wide, chest heaving, tears falling down your face.

They froze—mid-attack, mid-motion. Mira’s blade hung inches from Haneul’s throat. Hwimori stood with his hand pressed against Zoey’s forearm. Seungho, face spattered with sparks from the clash, was breathing hard, knuckles red.

Your legs buckled. Tears streamed down your face. “Please… just—take me home.”

The boys turned to you instantly, their expressions shattering. Haneul reached you first, eyes wide, fury replaced by guilt.

Mira stepped forward. “Wait—Y/N—please, don’t just leave with them—”

You flinched, recoiling from her words. “They’re my—” your voice caught again. You didn’t even know what they were. Your protectors? Your monsters? Your bondmates? “They’re mine. Please. Just let me go.”

Zoey’s brows furrowed, her eyes soft with heartbreak. “Y/N—”

But you didn’t look back. The boys were around you in seconds. Haneul touched your wrist gently. Seungho gritted his jaw, eyes flicking toward Huntrix with restrained menace. Hwimori’s voice shook as he whispered, “We’ve got you, baby. You’re safe.”

The three of them vanished with you in a pulse of light.

Huntrix was left on the platform, chests heaving from the encounter. Rumi stared at the space you’d disappeared from, her heart pounding in dread. “She didn’t know,” she whispered.

Mira kicked at the wall, furious. “She still chose them.”

“No,” Zoey said softly, blinking back tears. “She chose… love. Even if it breaks her.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

There was a crack in the air, warped magenta light, a pulse of pressure. The world spun. You gasped, and then you weren’t at the train station anymore. You were in the apartment. The air was too still. Too silent. Too safe.

Strong arms were around you—Haneul. You could feel the heat of his chest, his heartbeat pounding like war drums beneath skin. He didn’t speak at first. None of them did. Only the low hiss of displaced magic, the soft creak of floorboards, the echo of your own pulse thrumming inside your skull. He set you down like you were made of glass. Like touching you too long might shatter you.

Your knees barely held. The floor felt unfamiliar beneath your feet. Seungho’s eyes flicked over you, frantic. Cold rage buried under silent panic. He hovered beside you, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to hold you or destroy something else entirely.

Hwimori dropped to his knees in front of you without hesitation, eyes glassy and wide, his voice cracking before it even fully formed. “You’re shaking… baby, are you hurt? What did they—what happened before we got there? Please–”

“Talk to us,” Haneul said, crouching beside you, his hand hovering near your back but not daring to touch. “Please. What happened?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even blink. You just… shook your head. Back and forth, shaking side to side as if it would erase what knowledge you now knew. The soulbond pulsed faintly in your chest. Not warm. Not comforting. It throbbed like a bruise. Like something fractured. Like a string pulled too taut, starting to tear.

The apartment was… wrong. The usual warmth, the laughter, the music and bickering and background hum of domestic life—it was all absent. And inside you, it was worse.

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel the way you used to. Your mind echoed only with what the girls had said, with the image of people’s souls leaving their bodies on the train, of hollowed, empty eyes. Of that terrifying demon.

They take souls. They perform for Gwi Ma. You’re the only thing they’re not using.

Your heart twisted violently in your chest. The boys were still speaking—softly, pleadingly—but their words barely registered. The only thing you could feel was the silence between the soulbond pulses. That unbearable emptiness.

You stood on shaky knees and stared at the counter. Your desserts sat there, untouched. You’d made them with so much love. You couldn’t even remember what they tasted like now. And still, none of them moved closer. As if they could feel it—that wall, that distance growing inside you. Your silence was worse than a scream. You tried to inhale and tasted ash.

What if it’s true? What if it’s all been a lie?

They were so worried. They looked like they’d rip the world apart just to keep you safe. And yet, they could also be the reason so many were dead.

“Where’s Seoha and Jinu?” you asked, your voice small. Fragile.

They all froze. Seungho’s head jerked up, jaw tight. “They’re on their way,” Haneul said softly, carefully. Then he reached forward, gently cupping your face in both hands. His thumbs hovered over your cheeks like he wanted to wipe tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “Baby, look at me. Please.”

You didn’t. Not right away. But then your gaze lifted, slowly. And the look in your eyes shattered them.

Your eyes—normally filled with warmth, trust, affection—were glassy and storm-swept. Distant. Like you were still on that train. Like you were looking at strangers. Strangers who might hurt you. Strangers who already had.

A new pulse of displaced air. The magic cracked again— and Jinu and Seoha appeared. Everything moved at once.

“Y/N!” Jinu’s voice rang like thunder. They rushed to you, no hesitation. You were enveloped in arms, pulled against chests, hands cradling your head, their voices thick with desperation.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay? Baby—talk to us—please—”

Their love was overwhelming. Suffocating. Because it wasn’t fake. And that made it worse. You didn’t move. Your body was stiff between them, your head angled slightly away. It was too much. Their concern, their affection—it only twisted the knife in your gut.

How can they love me like this… if they’re the reason so many died?

Seungho stepped back first. His jaw was clenched, his face pulled into a snarl, not at you—but at the unbearable tension building in the room. “She hasn’t said anything,” he growled.

Jinu turned to you, and you felt the question in his eyes like a scream. Seoha beside him, stiffening. “Y/N…”

Seungho’s voice cut again, more agitated now, sharp with his own guilt. “She was with Huntrix when we got there. All three of them. Protecting her. She looked… different. Like she didn’t trust us.”

Silence. Then Seoha’s entire body stiffened, rage sparking behind his eyes. “They what?”

“You let them near her?” Jinu snarled, teeth bared.

“They saved me.” Your voice sliced through the room. All five froze. You turned your gaze on them—and what they saw unraveled every one of them. Betrayal. Hurt. Disbelief. Your hands were trembling. Your lips parted, eyes wide and glimmering.

“Tell me the truth,” you whispered. Your voice was broken. Like your throat had cracked open just to let the words out. “Tell me what they said wasn’t true—”

Seoha moved fast, too fast. “Whatever they told you—it was—”

“Tell me you didn’t do this!” You were yelling now. Tears spilling down your face as your fists clenched tight at your sides. “Tell me you aren’t the reason everyone I was with on that train is dead! Tell me you aren’t the reason their souls were sucked out of them!”

Their expressions broke in real time. Eyes wide. Faces pale. Their masks—whatever calm they’d held—shattered.

“Tell me,” you sobbed, “you aren’t harvesting souls for Gwi Ma. Tell me you aren’t in that goddamn boyband because you’ve been sacrificing people this whole time. Tell me!”

Silence. Your voice cracked on that last word. And all that came after was the sound of your sobs, and the cracking of five hearts breaking in perfect synchrony. Then—

“…You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” Hwimori whispered. His voice was hollow. Distant.

And just like that, your knees gave out. You dropped onto the couch like your body had no strength left. “Oh god…” Your hand flew to your mouth. You were trembling violently now, chest heaving as you sobbed uncontrollably.

“No,” you whispered through broken cries. “No no no—”

Seungho reached out—but the second his fingers brushed your shoulder, you flinched like he’d burned you. He recoiled instantly, like he’d touched fire.

“You were hiding this from me,” you choked out. “This whole time—!”

Voices clamored, layered on top of each other, a storm of explanations:

“We were going to tell you,” Haneul swore.

“We were protecting you—” Seungho snapped.

“We had a plan, the Idol Awards—” Seoha began.

Then—Jinu. His voice was the calmest. And somehow the heaviest. “We never wanted to lie. But we knew… if we told you… we might lose you.”

You looked up. And what they saw in your eyes destroyed them. It was Jinu’s worst fear made flesh. You were looking at them like they were monsters.

Because maybe they were. Because maybe they’d always been. And you had just never seen it before.

Your heart throbbed violently. You couldn’t breathe. Their words spun in your head, colliding with every smile they’d given you, every sweet nickname, every soft hand brushing your cheek.

How much of that was real?

They’d always brushed off your questions. Always distracted you. Made you feel safe. Loved. Like you were the center of their world. And maybe you were. But that didn’t mean they weren’t lying. Didn’t mean they weren’t killing. Didn��t mean they weren’t monsters.

You shut your eyes tight. Tears still flowed. You were shaking. Then slowly… you looked up again. And your voice was cold. “Tell me everything.”

Their breath caught. You didn’t stop. “No more lying. No more half-truths. No more pretty words or distractions or soft kisses when you don’t want to answer. Because if you hide even one more thing from me…”

Your eyes burned now. Not with anger. With heartbreak.

“…I will start to question everything about this bond.”

Your words were a blade, and it cut them deep. Not all of them showed fear the same way.

Hwimori looked like a kicked animal. Eyes wide and shimmering, lips parted as if he was about to cry too. His fingers curled into his sleeves like they were the only thing anchoring him to the room, to you. He felt it the most—your withdrawal. And it terrified him.

Seungho was stone. His fists were clenched so hard the knuckles had gone white. His jaw was locked tight, mouth a hard line. But the tremble in his chest betrayed him. His need to reach you. To fix this. His control was slipping, and beneath it, rage was building—but it wasn’t directed at you. It was at himself.

Haneul stood still as a mountain, but his hands flexed at his sides like he was holding back an earthquake. His eyes tracked every twitch of your face, every breath, searching for a sign you’d come back to him. To them. The panic behind his calm exterior was cracking, slow and brutal.

Seoha was quiet. Too quiet. His brow furrowed, lips tight in a way that had nothing of his usual smirk or smugness. He looked… human. Almost small. The carefully crafted illusion of control he always wore had shattered, and now he just looked like someone terrified of losing the one thing that made life worth bearing.

And Jinu— Jinu looked like he was in mourning. His face was pale, drawn tight with sorrow, and for once, the leader, the one who always knew what to say, seemed utterly lost. He let out a slow, pained breath. Then he knelt. He didn’t ease himself down like someone making a gesture. He fell to his knees like the weight of your words had knocked the ground out from beneath him.

“Four hundred years ago,” he began softly. His voice was like velvet torn at the seams. “You already know what I did. I made the pact with Gwi Ma.”

He kept his hands on his thighs, like if he reached for you and you pulled away, he might never recover. “But that was just the beginning,” he continued, eyes not leaving yours. The apartment had gone deathly still. The only sound was the buzz of distant city traffic and your own breath, shallow and trembling.

“We’ve been searching for you,” Jinu said. “Lifetime after lifetime. Across kingdoms, dynasties, wars… through blood, fire, ruin. Always searching. Always too late.”

He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, they glistened. “You’d be born. And by the time we found you—” His voice broke. “You’d be gone.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Every time we saw you die… it killed something inside us. But we couldn’t let go. We couldn’t stop.” His voice grew lower, heavier. “So I went back to Gwi Ma.” The name curled like smoke in the air, bitter and thick. “I gave him a plan.”

He looked up at you, eyes hollowed out by centuries of desperation. “If the hunters succeeded in turning the Honmoon gold, it would seal the boundary between the demon world and the human one. Forever. We would never be able to reach you again.”

Your breath caught. You hadn’t known that. Jinu nodded, seeing the realization in your face. “We couldn’t let that happen. We couldn’t let them lock us away. Not when we hadn’t found you yet. So I told Gwi Ma… we’d become a boyband.”

He said it like it tasted foreign in his mouth. Strange. Absurd. And yet, it had worked. “We’d gather adoration. Souls. Worship. We’d become idols, perfect vessels for harvesting. As long as we gave him what he wanted, Gwi Ma would let us roam the human world. He’d let us keep looking for you.”

He pressed a fist to his chest. “I sold what was left of my soul to him. And the others followed.”

You could feel the weight of their silence behind him. All of them had made the pact. All of them had chosen this. And then— Jinu’s voice softened. A light trembled in his expression, nostalgic and gentle. “And then one day… we found you.”

His tone shifted like he was remembering a dream. “You were standing in the crowd, trolley in hand. Watching us during our debut performance. You didn’t know who we were. Not really. But you looked at us—looked at me—and…”

He smiled faintly, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “It felt like every lifetime had led to that one moment.”

The others shifted behind him. Seoha’s hand had clenched over his heart. Haneul was staring at the floor, breath uneven. Hwimori sniffled softly. Seungho didn’t move at all—but his chest rose like he was holding back a scream.

But then, Jinu’s face hardened. “Gwi Ma noticed, too.”

You tensed. “He asked if you were a distraction…” Jinu’s voice cracked, shaking at the edges now. “And when he saw the answer in our eyes… he threatened to rip you from the cycle.”

You stared at him, frozen.

“He said if we didn’t fulfill the mission, he would erase you. No reincarnation. No afterlife. Just nothing. We’d never see you again. Ever. He used you as leverage.” He spat the last word out like it was poison on his tongue.

The room tilted. Your stomach lurched. You could barely process it.

“But…” Jinu choked, reaching for you now. Carefully, gently. His hands brushing yours like they were sacred. “Then he said something else.”

He blinked, voice barely holding together. “He said… if we succeeded…If we completed the mission, you’d be free. No more deaths. No more waiting. Your soul would be unbound. You’d be with us. Forever.”

His eyes were pleading now. Raw. “You wouldn’t have to die anymore,” he whispered. “We wouldn’t have to lose you again.”

His voice cracked. “So we kept going. We harvested. We became what he wanted us to be. Because we’d do anything. Anything, just for that chance.”

Seungho’s voice came next, dark and sharp. “We’d burn in hell a thousand times if it meant keeping you out of it.”

“You don’t understand,” Seoha murmured, stepping closer. “We chose to sin so you wouldn’t have to. We lied, we killed, we performed. But it was all for you.”

Hwimori was crying now, silent tears streaking down his cheeks. “We were tired of watching you die…”

Haneul’s voice was low, heavy. “So we made sure you wouldn’t have to again. Even if it meant damning ourselves.”

Your breath hitched. Your hands trembled in Jinu’s grasp. And then the question came out—without thought, without breath. “…Then was any of this real?”

They froze. You looked at Jinu through a blur of tears. “Or am I just your reward for doing Gwi Ma’s dirty work?”

Silence. Then— Jinu squeezed your hand so tightly it hurt. “No,” he said, voice hoarse. “No, baby—you’re not a reward. You’re everything. You are the reason we breathe. You are the only thing we ever wanted.”

His hands trembled. “If there was even the slightest chance to free you—to keep you—I took it. I’ll always take it. Even if I become the worst kind of monster, I’ll still reach for you.”

He leaned in, eyes locked with yours, voice breaking. “This bond…it’s real. It’s not a spell. It’s not a scheme. It’s the only thing that ever made any of this worth it.”

Your tears spilled down freely now, dropping into your open palms—hands still interlocked with his. You looked down at them. At the warmth, the trembling desperation. And you whispered, voice hollow: “Then… what about the Idol Awards? Why is it so important? What’s your plan?”

Jinu hesitated. And the others, they froze again. They looked at each other.

You saw it.

The silent debate. The second wave of hesitation. And it gutted you. Your voice cracked again, wounded and sharp: “You say you love me. But you lie. And you keep lying.”

The blow landed. Haneul exhaled sharply, head shaking from side to side. “…It’s Gwi Ma,” he said finally. “The Idol Awards. It’s a feast for him. He wants to collect as many souls as possible at once. All at once. Through the performance.”

Hwimori wiped his face with a sleeve, voice barely audible. “He’s going to feed on thousands. While the world cheers.”

You couldn’t breathe. You felt your lungs pull tight in your chest. A whimper broke past your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. And you cried. You didn’t stop the sobs this time. Your entire body shook, your hand still clasped in Jinu’s, tears falling freely onto your skin like rain.

The apartment blurred. Their faces blurred. The bond was still there, still humming… but it didn’t soothe you anymore. It pulsed like a wound.

You looked up at them.

Jinu was still kneeling, his hands clasped in yours like prayer. The others stood behind him, broken shadows in the silence. Not one of them looked away from you. Not even now. And somehow, that made it worse.

They would never look away from you. Even if you ran. Even if you bled.

And wasn’t that the point? Your throat burned as more sobs clawed their way out, and in the fragments of silence that followed, the thoughts began to spiral. They wrapped around each other like thorns.

Maybe they never stopped being monsters. Maybe they just learned how to look like love.

Your fingers twitched in Jinu’s grip. He didn’t loosen. His touch was gentle, like he thought he was holding something holy. And maybe that was the part that hurt the most. They loved you. God, they loved you. Not in some surface-level way, not in flings or flattery or fleeting affection. But in the way demons love: eternal, consuming, possessive. As if you were the sun and they’d burn everything else to orbit you.

But what had they burned already? You blinked hard, tears falling fresh, and looked at Seungho. He looked like a stone god in mourning. His mouth drawn in pain. His eyes, red-rimmed, still hard—never left your face.

Do they love me? Or do they love the idea of saving what they lost?

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it?

A mission to reclaim what they’d failed to protect. A centuries-long obsession. A crusade. And you, the living relic of all that suffering. Were you really you to them? Or were you just the wound they couldn’t stop reopening?

Your chest cracked as you looked next at Hwimori. His face soaked in silent tears, lips trembling, arms hugging himself like he didn’t know where to put all his grief. He always looked at you like you were the answer to every question he’d ever asked.

Is my body their comfort? My heart their trophy?

Your heart screamed in your chest, and still, you wanted to hold him. To comfort him. To wipe those tears away. Why does it still hurt to think about leaving them?

Because you love them. You do. That’s what made all of this so unlivable. You love them like breath. Like instinct. Like your body was made to fit in their arms, and your soul keeps reaching for theirs, even now that you know the truth, even after everything.

It’s still there. The bond. I feel them—every emotion, every heartbreak. Like it’s my own.

You shut your eyes, chest rising and falling too fast. The pain in your throat was sharp. And that’s the most terrifying part. Even now, after everything, I ache for them.

And how could you not? When they’ve bled for you? When they’ve clawed their way through centuries of death and fire just to reach you? But that love was wrapped in horror. They built a cathedral of corpses to reach me. And now they ask me to kneel in it with them.

You looked at Haneul next. His gaze was glass. Shining, unreadable. So much devotion. So much quiet, desperate hope. You wanted to throw up.

Because no matter how gently they spoke, no matter how desperately they shook as they confessed, the truth was still bloodstained.

They made themselves monsters to keep me safe. I see that now. I believe it. But when did protecting someone turn into sacrificing others?

They think this is devotion. But I don’t want to be worshipped like a god. I just wanted to be loved like a person.

You could still remember how soft Haneul had been that night he made you tea. How his hand cupped your jaw like you were fragile. How his voice broke when he thought you were hurt.

They gave up everything… and I don’t know whether to feel honored or horrified.

You looked away, only for your eyes to land on Seoha. Beautiful, manipulative Seoha. The liar. The sweet-talker. The boy who had whispered fantasy in your ear and never quite told you where the dreams ended and the lies began. And yet—

He had knelt with the others. Begged with the others. Loved with the others. And still, he had lied.

I don’t know how to bear this. I was just trying to live a normal life. I didn’t ask to be someone’s reason for slaughter.

Can love justify this much death?

What does it say about me… that some part of me still wants to protect them?

Another sob ripped from your throat. You bent forward, your hands tangled in your lap, and felt Jinu’s still holding one, solid, shaking.

‘I believe in forgiveness,’ you thought, chest hollowing. ‘In healing. In second chances. But what do you do when the people you love are proud of the sins they carry?’

Because they were. They didn’t deny them. They wore them like scars. Like medals.

I don’t want to be someone you kill for. I want to be someone you live for.

But they didn’t see the difference. To them, love meant sacrifice. To them, love was the war.

And you? You were the altar.

You lift your eyes. Your face is soaked, your lips tremble, your throat tastes like ash. They’re all still watching you. Their eyes full of love and dread. As if your next words will either break the curse or finish the story. You exhale, voice shaking as you speak.

“Do you even hear yourselves?” you whisper. They’re silent. Your voice trembles harder. “You’re planning a massacre… in my name.”

Seungho’s jaw clenches. Hwimori chokes on a breath. Jinu flinches like the words physically hit him. You swallow, the bond pulsing between your ribs like a bruise that won’t stop throbbing. “Thousands of souls. Families. Children. People who have no idea what’s waiting for them.”

Your hands shake in your lap. “And you’re going to take it all away. Smile while the lights flash. Dance while the world dies.”

Your gaze flickers to Jinu—kneeling, breath shallow. “I know you love me,” you whisper. “God, I know. I can feel it. But this…” Your voice cracks. “…this isn’t the kind of love I want. Do you honestly believe that I, or even who I was lifetimes ago, would ever be okay with this?”

Something ripples down the bond. Guilt. Shame. Grief. Their emotions tangle with yours, intensify. And suddenly it’s all too much. Your pain mirrored fivefold, bouncing back through the crimson thread and digging its claws into your chest. Your heart twists violently. They feel it. You can feel them feeling it. The ache in your soul like an echo chamber of agony.

You stand, trembling. “You say you’re protecting me. But you’re killing for me. Hiding it. Justifying it. As if loving me makes the blood on your hands… righteous.”

No one moves. You look at Jinu again. “You say you did it to stop me from dying. To give us forever. But what’s the point of forever… if I can’t live with myself?” you choke a sob.

Jinu’s eyes close. His jaw tenses. The bond pulses again—hot with their panic. Their sorrow. Their desperation. You can barely keep your voice steady. “I feel everything you feel. And that’s the cruelest part. Because even after everything… I still love you.”

The room doesn’t breathe.

“I still want to run to you. I still want to pretend this isn’t happening. That I didn’t hear what I just heard.”

You look at Haneul. “I still feel safe with you.”

At Seungho. “I still crave your touch.”

At Seoha. “I still hear your voice when I sleep.”

At Hwimori. “I still want to hold you when you cry.”

And then, your voice breaks. “But I hate that I still feel that way. Because I shouldn’t.”

No one dares speak. You wipe your tears as you stand, even as your knees buckle beneath the weight of what you know. “I’m not your prize. I’m not your goddess. I’m not the reason you get to do these things and sleep at night.”

You stare straight at them. “If you truly love me… you’ll stop this. You’ll find another way.”

They don’t answer. The silence says everything. Jinu finally breathes. “This is the only way.”

You flinch. “No—” You step forward. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me that thousands have to die so I can live with you.”

“It’s not just for you—” Haneul starts.

“You just said it was!”

The bond is frantic now. They feel your anger. Your heartbreak. Their own shame cracks against your ribs. Seungho looks away. Seoha clenches his fists. Hwimori’s lip trembles.

Jinu doesn’t move. “It’s the only way to finish it,” he says quietly. “To free you. To make it stop.”

“No,” you whisper. “You’re doing this because you can’t bear to lose me. Not again. You’re not saving me. You’re clinging to me.”

Jinu looks up, broken. “Is that so wrong?”

You freeze. And it hits you all at once: They’re not going to stop. They can’t. Because to them, this is love. Love shaped like sacrifice. Like fire. Like ruin. They would rather burn the world than risk being without you.

And you love them. You love them still. That’s the worst part.

Your knees buckle again and you fall to the couch, a sob ripping from your chest. Jinu tries to move toward you, but the look on your face stops him. “I can’t watch you do this,” you whisper. “I can’t watch you become something I can’t forgive.”

The bond pulses with pain. You shove yourself to your feet. “Don’t follow me.”

“Y/N—” Seoha starts.

“Don’t.”

You walk away from them. Each step like dragging chains. You pass the desserts you’d made just hours ago—sweet, stupid little things that feel like a lie now. You reach for the guest room door– one with a lock. Your fingers tremble on the knob.

And then you shut it. Lock it. The sound echoes like a final breath.

You collapse onto the bed and sob until your throat burns. You hate them for what they’re going to do. And you hate that you still love them through it.

And worst of all… some part of you still wants to forgive them.

Even if it means losing yourself in the process.

TO BE CONTINUED

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A/N: I am so sooo sorry this had to be done! But let's be real, I have been building up for this big reveal for chapters now- so I always knew this was going to happen. It was a necessary ouchie, I hope you forgive me. Things will roll out now. I can't promise a happier chapter for the next, but it will be exciting and suspenseful, trust! Things will get better eventually, but we'll have to go through some waves and punches for now.

I wanted to highlight in this chapter how the bond is more complicated than it looks. Issues on morality, sacrifice, love, and betrayal are the reality in this situation, so I wanted to highlight the complicated thoughts any normal person would have in this scenario.

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, though!

Willa x.

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enhani-ki · 6 months ago

Text

fuckboy!ni-ki x reader

warnings : smut, nsfw, cursing, mentions of killing, etc.

read part two

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.

a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.

ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.

when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.

it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.

girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.

he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.

he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.

they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.

but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.

ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.

he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.

finally.

and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.

"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips already brushing against your ear. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.

your body stiffened in his grasp.

ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.

there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body... only silence.

ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.

you're a face he had never seen before.

"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.

"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.

ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.

ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.

fuck.

not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. he's that simple.

but what happened with you? that bothered him.

maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.

he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely. but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.

great.

ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it but it's the least he could do, right?

he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate to approach.

"hey."

your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned, ready to leave.

ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"

you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."

he let go but he's also expecting you to run again and he's not letting you off easily.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"

"i gotta go…"

"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."

"your girlfriend?"

ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"

you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"

he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.

"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.

parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.

ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.

he's sitting with his friends. there's a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.

"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"

ni-ki exhaled, he's not in the mood yet and he's ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.

"huh."

you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places that it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.

the girl beside him was still talking but he wasn't listening anymore, his interest became completely derailed.

"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.

she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.

he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance then his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.

"wow… you're-"

you covered yourself quickly, you crossed your arms over your chest and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence

"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.

he blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands into his pockets.

you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"

ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he replied, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."

his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.

his eyes kept drifting back to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.

he was enjoying himself, honestly and he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just already thrilled to be by your side.

you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.

ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"

you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"

"why are you so mad at me?"

"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."

"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"

you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.

"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.

"what the hell-"

ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."

you hesitated.

he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."

you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.

your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.

"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.

ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"

you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.

"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.

"he just helped me find you." you replied and without another word, you grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the exit.

"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.

ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.

as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation with gleaming eyes.

"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"

you groaned. "it's not what you think!"

she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"

you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"

she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"

you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"

she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.

"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"

she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.

you grabbed it back.

she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."

you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.

"don't get so weird about this." you warned.

she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."

"there is no me and ni-ki!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.

he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.

he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.

he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"

you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"

ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."

but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?

he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.

"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"

you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...

fuck it.

because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.

it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.

he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.

your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.

you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"

ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"

you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.

he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.

he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?

"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"

"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."

"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"

shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.

for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.

he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.

"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.

ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."

you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.

so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.

you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"

ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."

"you're apologizing?"

ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."

he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss..."

you rolled your eyes, "whatever."

then ni-ki hugged you.

you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"

ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"

"by hugging me?!"

"would you rather i kiss you again?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.

you scowled. "you're such a pervert."

his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."

you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."

he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"

you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.

ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.

ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.

like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, then making sure you got home safe after study sessions.

he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.

totally normal. nothing weird.

but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.

you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"

like, damn. he was actually trying here.

then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.

your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.

or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.

when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.

ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.

his first thought?

"God, i wanna touch."

his second thought?

"i need help."

you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.

you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.

"you… bought this for me?"

"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."

you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"

ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.

instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.

"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"

a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."

he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around

ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.

but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.

you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.

ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"

"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.

"…please?"

you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."

then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.

"what, it didn't give you your snack?"

"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."

ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.

then the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.

the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.

so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.

"my phone is dead," you said.

he smiled "finally."

you glared, "give me your charger."

ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"

you pouted. "please?"

his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.

ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."

"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.

"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."

you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."

ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.

you regret this.

you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.

big mistake.

now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.

sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.

you gulped.

then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"

you quickly looked away. "shut up."

he only laughed.

later, back in your room, you are dying.

your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.

"you're overreacting." he said.

"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."

"i did!" he defended, snickering.

you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.

ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"

you looked at him. "you give massages?"

he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."

you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.

the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.

"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.

ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"

"ah, ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.

ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.

your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.

he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.

he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.

"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.

silence.

ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips were slightly parted.

his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, heart pounding while reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.

and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.

your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, like giving him more access.

a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.

ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.

"…a- are you awake?" he asked.

silence.

panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.

ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.

the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.

his jaw clenched as he glanced down at his cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.

ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.

he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.

"hey, ni-"

"how fast can you get here?"

the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"

click. that's too late.

ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.

and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed another set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.

push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day.

you burst out laughing the moment you saw him.

he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.

"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.

ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."

"wha- my fault? what did i do?"

he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."

you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"

ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."

when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.

"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.

he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.

"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.

you tried the handle. locked.

ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."

you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"

and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.

you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.

"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.

you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.

his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.

you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.

it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.

"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.

ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.

your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.

but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.

you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."

ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.

"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.

his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"

"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"

"you're comfy."

you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.

"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"

your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.

ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."

you laughed awkwardly. "right..."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.

ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.

ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.

"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.

and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.

"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.

he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.

and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"

ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."

you smacked his arm.

later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"

"who do you like better, me or him?"

you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"

"just answer."

"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."

ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.

"i'm not your friend."

"yes, you are."

ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."

rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..

you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.

but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.

he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.

and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.

"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.

you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.

"…huh?"

he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.

"that's what i thought."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.

you used to slap his hands away.

his arm over your shoulder? gone.

sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.

grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.

but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.

the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.

you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.

"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.

"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."

you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.

ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.

he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"

your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.

ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"

"far away from you."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.

"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.

you raised a brow. "why?"

he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."

you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"

"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."

you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.

before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.

you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"

ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.

your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.

you turned to him, speechless.

ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.

the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.

"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"

"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."

your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.

what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?

ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.

he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.

you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.

he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."

you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.

at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.

ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.

he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.

you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.

"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.

your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.

then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.

he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.

you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.

ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.

he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.

his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.

ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.

but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.

he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.

you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.

soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.

ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."

"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.

you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.

the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.

your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.

your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.

"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.

starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."

your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."

he knew you were close.

he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.

and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.

after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.

you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.

rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...

completely wrecked by him.

he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.

and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.

"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.

never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.

a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3 read part two

similar: Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend & Nishimura Riki as your classmate

masterlist: マスターリストm.list

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