crestfallenyh - Tumblr blog

crestfallenyh · 6 months ago

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an innocent man doesn't stand a chance (j.yh)

summary: it's halloween and your boyfriend has a fantasy. he wants to be the masked killer and for you to be the final girl, and he wants you to run.

note: this was written in a feverish haze of ghostface yunho brainrot, you can thank this fanart and this edit for making this one about yunho, but i have to give all credit for the idea to the nsfw audio creator augustinthewinter who's masked hookup audio killed me. also please read the warnings, this one is potentially very triggering.

warnings: ghostface!yunho x final girl!reader, boyfriend!yunho, hard dom!yunho, girlfriend!reader, sub!reader, sadism, masochism, knife play, primal play/chasing, threats of violence, heavy cnc that really looks like noncon because part of the play is that he wants her to struggle and say no BUT there are consent checks explicit throughout, rough sex, fingering, gloves, masks, breath play, impact play, mirrors, finger sucking don't look at me, dry humping, clothed sex, ripping off clothes, size kink, ass play, lots and lots of degredation including use of sl*t/wh*re/fvcktoy/c*cksleeve, yunho is seriously mean in this i'm not kidding, fear, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie, subspace, there's more i'm sure but this one is a doozy. also lots and lots of aftercare!! after a scene like this i had to write detailed aftercare and confirmation of limits, so that's there too! yunho is v sweet when not in the zone.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut, no plot in sight

word count: 7.9k

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The house bumping with music and every corner decorated for Halloween. You’re late enough that you can just slip in through the back door, and that was the plan from the start. Yunho arrived first, nearly two hours ago, and made excuses for why you were late, for how you might not even make it to the party. No one would see either of you come or go together, so when you both disappeared to play your game no one would ever know. You had come up with the plan in bed, whispered fantasies and what-ifs between the sheets as he rewarded your willingness to try something new with his tongue.

His fantasy is special, and to do it right you can really only do it on Halloween night.

You weave through a throng of drunk acquaintances, searching the crowd for him, but it’s not as easy to find him as you thought it would be. You’re not sure how a six foot something Ghostface killer could hide from you in the crowd of your friend’s house party, but no matter how many rooms you check you can’t see him. Nervousness pits inside you as you check your phone and see nothing. He could be caught up with friends, he could be changing his mind, but you can’t tell if you can’t find him.

Adjusting your very 90s costume, you dart away from the kitchen where a group of your girlfriends are pouring shots and weave your way into the back of the house. Maybe you can call him? Text him? Would that completely ruin the mood of psycho killer stalking? Maybe, but it’s been forty-five minutes and you haven’t so much as seen a sliver of his mask.

You flick through your phone, checking for any new messages, and then scroll to find Yunho’s contact card in your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button as you lean against the quiet hallway wall, and then in your peripheral vision you see it.

A dart of black, something looming, and when you finally turn your head, you see him. Ghostface, standing wide and imposing in the hall, blocking any way past him and back out into the party.

“Spooky,” You sigh, tucking your phone away.

Silently, Ghostface nods his head.

The hair on the back of your arms stands up. This is it.

“What? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?” You take a step or two towards him, leaning into the character you dressed for.

He shakes his head.

“Looking for me?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling.

Slowly, he nods.

“Mm,” You raise a brow at him, “what’s the line from that movie? You wanna play psycho killer?”

His head tilts slightly to the side and he nods once again.

“And who do I play?”

He takes a step towards you and you fade back.

Fear starts to spread through you, even with it all being pretend, you can’t fight the feeling that your subconscious drums up in your gut.

He takes another step, and then another, and then you’re running.

Spinning on your heel you push deeper into the house, away from the party and towards a line of doors down the hall. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, your stomach a bundle of nervous trembling knots, and your hands are so slick with sweat you can barely grab the door handle of the basement. It’s not as easy to run as it looks in the movies, especially not in a tight skirt and penny loafers, and you skid down the basement stairs taking them two at a time until you slip forwards and crash down onto your hands and knees.

You don’t have time to assess the sudden sharp pain as the skin of your palm drags over the concrete floor though, so you scramble up in a flash and in a panic you weave your way deeper into the basement.

It’s familiar enough to you, your best friend’s parent’s place. You know there’s a tiny half bathroom in the far back corner, a rarely used guest bed against one wall as you descend the stairs, a collection of old video games and movies, and then around the corner to the left more and more basement, more storage, more dusty nooks and crannies to hide. You’re frozen for a split second, trying to decide the best place to go where he won’t find you, but heavy footfalls on the stairs ring in your ears like drum beats and you don’t have time to weigh your options.

You take off towards the bathroom, fumbling with the door again when you reach it.

The masked man behind you doesn’t say anything, but you hear him moving. His feet are sure and quick, the heavy fabric of his robes making a whooshing sound as he darts forwards to try and close the space between your bodies.

A panicked sound leaves your mouth as you tumble into the sink, clocking your hip hard on the porcelain and bracing yourself on the wall. Turning you reach back for the door, if you just get it latched maybe you can give yourself a second to think, to shimmy out of the very small, high set window. Pushing yourself into action you grab the door, he’s so close you can hear his breath, seconds away. Seconds away.

The door stops abruptly as you throw your body against it, six inches from closing. You push again, but it doesn’t budge, and when you look down it’s clear you’ve lost this game. His heavy black boot is firmly set in the door’s path, and you know there’s no chance for escape.

He crowds you instantly, leaving you no time to recover, his body pushing into the cramped space of the bathroom and flinging the door backwards into the adjacent wall. You stumble into the sink and he moves right up against you, the firm length of his body pinning yours in place.

For a moment everything is still, completely and shudderingly still with only the sound of your hitched breathing and thundering heart filling the room. You’re not sure what you should do - beg? Plead? Stay silent and let him do what he wants?

The masked man’s head tilts to the side as if he’s observing you, something you can’t tell through the ghostly plastic of his mask and dead black eyes. You’re trembling for real, hands shaking as they grip the cool porcelain. Ghostface leans into you, one of his gloved hands reaching for your face, a soft brush against your chin at first that turns to pressure as his fingers slide up your jaw to push you face to the side. It’s like he’s studying you, his hand slipping lower and dragging down your throat.

Your breath comes faster, stomach tight.

Ghostface closes his hand around your throat and your eyes widen. He holds you like this for a moment, his other hand locking down over your waist and gripping you tight, pinning you in place.

When he squeezes, panic bubbles through your body.

Yunho’s never choked you before. He’s never even suggested it, despite all your little jokes about how nice his hands would look around your neck. It seemed pretty clear to you that within the bounds of your relationship that was one thing he just wasn’t interested in, but whoever has you in the bathroom knows exactly how to hold your throat and where to press. Part of the fun is not knowing who’s beneath the mask, but your body still locks up, and an anxious voice inside you starts to wonder - what if? It’s not as if Ghostface is that rare of a costume choice, you see dozens of them on the street every year. It’s not inconceivable to think that at this party there would be more than one.

Your heart beats in fluttering fits and starts in your ribcage as your mind turns over this possibility, and then he squeezes. The fight comes back into you full force when you hear him sigh, his hand tightening even more and cutting off your airway. You wriggle in his arms, pushing against his chest and trying to use your hips for leverage, a startled whine ripping from your throat, but fear laces through your body as you shove against him and realize just how immovable he is.

Ghostface releases your throat, the same gloved hand slipping into the back of your hair to hold you steady.

“No!” The word tumbles out of your mouth as soon as you can properly make noise again.

He crowds you more, masked face dipping by your ear, “Shh, shh,”

You freeze.

“Safe word?” Yunho’s voice is a balm in your moment of sudden panic, his tone low and hushed.

“T-treasure,” You manage it, the realization coming back into your body that this isn’t a total and complete stranger, it’s still him. Your fear starts to melt into anticipation.

He gives you a squeeze, just one gentle pulse with his hand on your hip to communicate that he’s heard you, “Color?”

You take a second to assess yourself. This game is intense in a way that you’ve never experienced. Yunho had tried to tell you how your body might react to this kind of manufactured fear, how it would play tricks on you, how even if you knew it was him your body would still have the urge to fight and flee. You knew it, but you didn’t really understand it until this moment.

Yunho’s gloved thumb drags lovingly over your cheek for just a moment, “Color?”

If he has to ask you a third time he’ll end the scene, you know he will, but the brief flicker of tenderness in his touch reminds you of everything you already know about him. He has you. You’re safe. This is a game.

“Green,” You finally answer, “I’m green,”

One more quick pulse to your hip, he’s heard you again. More than that, he’s pleased with you.

His shoulders straighten as he draws to his full height, his body filling the space of the tiny bathroom and caging you in. You swallow tightly, audible in your ears and then he moves fast.

His hands around your waist, lifting you up and then shoving you back until you’re sitting on the lip of the porcelain sink, uncomfortably balanced and pushed back flush to the mirrored wall behind you. You yelp when he moves you, hands scrambling for purchase on something, gripping the sleeve of his black cape in desperation. Fear and anticipation pulse through you, but he doesn’t give you a rest to get your bearings.

He shoves your legs open wide and slots between your thighs and shoves your face to the side until your cheek is squished against the cold mirror, his hand a controlling brace from your jaw to the crown of your head.

“You look so pretty running from me,” He strokes your face, but this time it’s not loving, it's possessive, it’s pure control.

You grip the edge of the sink and whimper.

“Should we play a little game?” He teases, “It’s Halloween, you must like scary movies,”

Your breath quickens, “Y-yeah,”

He drops his voice low, in a mimic of the movie, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You’ve heard Yunho do that voice before, lazing on the couch last October when you had yourselves a movie marathon, the day he realized something about your favorite scary movie that turned you on, the day you called him out for being hard during a kill scene. It took a year for you both to work up the courage to actually act on any of those fantasies, but here and now with his mask on and his voice low, you feel that mix of terror and arousal bleeding through your body in a way only he can elicit from you.

You can’t help the little smile that passes over your lips, “Scream,”

“Meta,” He teases, pinching you hard on the thigh, “for every question you get wrong, I’m taking something off you,”

You swallow hard again.

He reaches into his black robes and then you see it, shining in the reflection of the mirror and in your hazy peripheral vision. The glint of a real knife is unmistakable, the cool sharp edge of the steel crystal clear and you can’t stop the actual fear that jolts through you. You jerk in his hold, instinct driving you for a split second, and he pushes your face harder into the mirror.

“Tch,” He makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth, “the game’s no fun if you don’t play.”

He won’t hurt you, at least not in ways you don’t already like. You have to trust that.

Settling yourself with a slow breath you summon the act he wants, find the fear within yourself and let it inform your words to give him what he wants.

“Please, don’t,” You’re trembling is real, that you know.

He shifts between your legs, drawing the knife closer, shifting it in his hand so he simply presses the cool flat side of the blade against one of your nipples. You hiss at the sensation, tightness building in your gut.

“First question,” He drags the knife a little over your nipple, “What movie franchise is Jason from?”

It’s an actual quiz, of course it is. At least he’s starting off easy.

“Friday the Thirteenth,” You reply fast.

“Correct,” He lifts the knife, and with the blade pointed away from you, he pushes up your tight tshirt until it’s bunched above your breasts.

“I got that right,” You glance down at the way he’s touching you, breaking his own rules already.

“Just getting a better view,” He insists, and then the cool knife is against your nipple again, only the thin fabric of your bralette between skin and steel.

Your body is aching in this position, but you can feel the heat off his body, and the heady tone of his voice from under the mask still has you starting to ache in different places.

“Let’s make this a little harder,” He taps the knife against you and you shiver, “what movie has a group of teenagers being stalked on an island by a killer fisherman?”

“It’s,” You start to answer but he taps the knife again and you jolt, “fuck, it’s I Know What You Did Last Summer,”

You watched it with him two weeks ago. You remember it, clear as day.

“Wrong,” The knife twists, the tip gently skating over the swell of your breast.

“Wait,” You start but he tips the knife under the center of your bra.

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” He clarifies the sequel, “they weren’t on an island in the first movie. I thought you liked scary movies,”

“I,” You press back into the wall as the knife edge kisses your skin, “I… I do,”

“You’re not very good at this,” He twists the knife and drags the sharp edge out so that it severs your thin bra in half, falling open and revealing your breasts to his wandering eyes.

A little gasping sound leaves your lips, a desperate noise you try to bite back, but he hears it.

He hums a soft, amused laugh and suddenly the knife is gone, sheathed and away and he leans into your space again, “You fucking like this, don’t you?”

“No,” You insist, despite the way your stomach is in tight knots.

“Did running away get you hot?” His gloved hand skims over your exposed body, “Do psycho killers make you wet?”

“Fuck,” You whine, “no, no,”

“Liar,” He whispers, and then he delivers a pointed slap to your thigh, “spread.”

Your legs widen instinctively at his command, but he doesn’t reward you or praise you like he normally would, this is different. He reaches under the hem of your taut mini skirt, finding the apex of your thighs, and his fingers gently rub up and down from the base of your slit to your clit. A tiny gasp bubbles out of your throat.

“Are you afraid?” He all but growls.

Your stomach flips and his hand tightens in your hair, “Y-yes,”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He finds the edge of your panties and drags them to one side.

“I don’t want it,” You answer him, body shaking now.

“Tell me to stop,” One gloved finger presses into your entrance, the softness of the leather and the warmth of his skin beneath it making you tremble.

“Stop,” You beg, “please, please, stop,”

“Why would I?” He slowly pushes inside, stretching you around his finger, “When I know how wet being fucked by a stranger in a mask makes you,”

A tense thready sound pulls from your throat as he adds a second finger.

“If you don’t want this,” He pulses his hand once, forcing both fingers deep into your slick channel, “why are you panting like a dog in heat?”

“N-no,”

“If you don’t want it,” He whispers, “don’t come.”

Your eyes shut as his hand starts moving, a steady pulse of his gloved fingers inside your aching cunt, curled just right in the way he knows gets you off fast. A pumping drag against your g-spot, the sound of his heavy breath, the unmistakable sensation of your own wetness making a mess between your thighs.

“Looks like you want it to me,” He adds the circle of his thumb against your clit and you jerk in his hold.

“Stop, fuck,” Your nails dig into his forearm.

“You don’t want me touching you, but you’re soaking my fingers,”

“N..No, no,” You babble, heat pooling in your gut.

“Fight it,” He pumps his fingers faster, drumming against your sweet spot, “don’t come,”

You hiss sharply, pleasure dropping low in your belly, the sensation of his gloves and his hot hand too much to bear.

“Moaning like you want it,” He laughs, pulling his hand suddenly out from under your skirt and yanking your head back to center.

You yelp at the position change and the sudden lack of contact but he doesn’t make you wait for long.

“Open,” He smacks your cheek lightly.

Your mouth falls open and he shoves both gloved fingers between your lips. You choke against the suddenness, at the way he presses down on your tongue, blinking to clear the haze from your eyes.

“Suck.”

You shiver, your lips closing over his digits, the sharp taste of leather mixed with your fluids assaulting your senses and you can’t fight the moan, the way your eyes drift shut as you swirl your tongue.

He hums, pleased, “Does it hurt?” He asks.

His question doesn’t make sense, and you blink your eyes back open to look up at the cool passiveness of his ghostly mask.

“Pretending you’re not a whore?” He clarifies and your mouth stills over his fingers. He pulls them out, delivering one more pointed slap to your cheek, and dives back down to plunge them back into your aching cunt, “Moaning like that, your nipples rock hard, and this pussy,”

You choke, a bubble building in your core as he abuses your slick channel again.

“Clenching around my fingers, sucking me in,” He chuckles, “I can feel you, baby,”

“Fuck, fuck,”

“Hold back,” He doubles his efforts between your thighs and you keen, “if you don’t want it, tell me to stop, don’t come,”

“Stop!” You whine, giving him exactly what he wants, “Please, please,”

“No,” His thumb rubs fast, his hand practiced at making you fall apart at the seams, “you come, you keep your eyes open, and you come all over my fucking hand,”

Your breath is fast, heart pounding, and you feel the cord tightening in your belly in a way that makes you want to rub yourself back up into his touch but he has you pinned, stuck, at his mercy just like he wants.

“Come,” His voice is clear, authoritative, and familiar. Like a trained response, your body releases and cracks open into a desperate orgasm, crumbling in his hands as you pitch forward onto his shoulder and grind your hips down to take the last little bit of what you need from his fingers.

When his hand stills, you realize you’re still clinging to him and you jerk back, one hand over your mouth as you try to recover your breath.

He steps back, his hands sliding off you and body slotting out from your thighs. You can’t see Yunho beneath the mask, but you know he’s looking. You can feel his hot gaze sliding over your body and taking in every wet and shaking inch of you. Your body is throbbing with need, but the game isn’t done, he hasn’t even made you touch his cock yet, and you know there’s no way you’re making it out of this basement without that.

“Tell me again how you don’t like it,” He finally says.

You shiver.

“Cat got your slutty little tongue?” He prompts you again, voice hardening.

You swallow hard, finding your words, “I didn’t like it,”

“Mhm,”

“I d-don’t want you to touch me,” You lie.

“Yeah?” He teases, “Well then run,”

“W-what?” Your eyes flick up to the impassive plastic of his mask.

“If you didn’t like it, why are you still sitting there?” He takes a step to the side, clearing your path to the door and you slide off the edge of the sink, your loafers making a click onto the tile floor.

You swallow hard, eyes darting out to the rest of the basement.

“Come on,” He teases, and you can hear the sick smile in his voice, “try to get away,”

You look between him and the room ahead of you again.

He leans forward and you shiver, his gaunt stretched mouth at your ear again, “I can’t fuck you if I can’t catch you,” his gloved fingers yank your top down over your exposed breasts and he chuckles, “better run fast.”

You spring forwards, adrenaline pumping through your body and blood rushing in your ears. Leaping out of the bathroom he gives you a couple steps to get a head start, but he’s so much bigger than you, his stride so much longer, and he closes the distance with ease as you scramble in mock terror to get to the steps.

Yunho’s arms close around you, hauling you up off your feet and against his chest, his touch rough and probing as he drags you up into the air.

“No!” You shriek, “Fuck!”

“You think I’d really let you go?” He laughs, “After that?”

“Fuck you!” The words bubble up out of your mouth.

“That’s the idea,” His hand slides down your belly, closing over your cunt and cupping you tightly.

Your body is reacting before your mind, and you jerk in his hold, kicking back your leg and catching him in the shin with the flat heel of your shoe.

He groans and wrenches you higher in the air, “Keep struggling,” he pants, “I like it,”

You twist again, trying to free one of your arms, but he has them pinned tightly to your body, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a fucking chance,” He takes two wide steps to the mattress and then tosses you down.

You collapse onto the bed, the old and rarely used springs creaking under your weight, and your scramble forwards in some kind of an attempt to get your bearings, but he’s on you just as fast. He yanks you back with a hand around your ankle and in a flash he’s on top of you.

He presses one hand firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned face down to the bed, and then his body weight drops down as he straddles the backs of your thighs. Your hands curl into the bedding beneath you, rough sheets and scratchy camp blankets, nothing soft and soothing to take a moment of comfort in.

His free hand wanders, searching your body slowly. The sound of the party raging upstairs drowns out any competing noise, but you can still hear his heavy breath against the mask and your pounding heart, the sound of anticipation thick in the air around you.

Yunho presses his hips forwards and you feel the thick hard length of his cock through his costume nestled against your backside.

“Look at you,” He palms your ass, “shaking for me,”

A whimper leaves you as his fingers dig into your back.

“Do I scare you, baby?” He delivers a harsh slap to the back of your thighs and you yelp, “Are you fucking terrified?”

Another slap leaves you trembling and you hide your face in the mattress, pressing your eyes shut tight. You love when he touches you like this and he knows it. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from whining, wetness pooling in your core. He wanted you scared, he wanted you fighting, you can’t give in just because his glove on your stinging skin feels like sin.

He groans, his cock pressing down harder to your ass and you feel both his hands slide from your hips up to your back and back down again until he has a grip on your waist.

A whimper slips out from between your lips.

Yunho freezes above you, his thumbs massaging a quick circle into your lower back, “Color?”

“Green!” Your voice is muffled by the bedding but you know he heard it.

He groans, pulsing his hips to rut his cock against you again.

Even between layers of fabric, you can feel the heat of him, throbbing and ready for you. Your mouth waters as you picture it, cockhead leaking precum and Yunho’s familiar hand wrapped around the base as he directs it to your mouth.

“Little slut,” He chuckles and it pulls you straight out of your mental fantasy, “rubbing that ass on a stranger’s cock,”

Your stomach clenches, and you twitch under him.

“That’s fucked up,” He drops his body weight over you, one hand pushing your head to the side as he leans over you, “you’re so fucked up, aren’t you?”

Your breathing is fast, a thready sound in your throat.

“Aren’t you?” His voice is low, a shade away from a growl, and he rocks his hips again to rub his cock against you.

“N-no,” You try to shake your head but his hand tightens against your scalp.

“Liar,” He keeps grinding against you, his free hand snaking underneath your bodies to grope your breast, “I know a needy whore when I see one,”

You moan into the sheets as he tweaks your nipple, tears springing to your eyes as he palms you, taking you apart with every touch.

“Let’s see how you like this,” He pinches your nipple once more and you squeal at the sharp sensation that rockets through your chest, a sharp line down to your clit, and then he slides back and shuffles back to sit up over your thighs.

He pushes the stiff fabric of your mini skirt up over your ass and then you feel the cold metal again.

You jerk underneath him, and he tuts softly, the sharp edge of the weapon gently dragging over the curve of your ass cheek.

“Tell me,” He grips your flesh tightly with one hand, painfully pinching, “do you still like scary movies now that you’re in one?”

You shake your head, a whimper on your lips when the knife slips under the edge of your panties, “P-please, don’t,”

He yanks the knife up and splits one side of your panties with a taut snap of fabric, “Please?” He taunts, “Please?”

You sob softly in response.

“Is ‘please’ all you can say?” He delivers a sharp smack to your exposed ass check and you jerk under him.

“I can’t,” You shake your head into the sheets, “I can’t,”

He sighs, and you feel the knife shred the other side of your underwear and then you hear the sound of the blade clattering to the floor. With both hands free he palms your exposed flesh, squeezing you almost painfully and inspecting your exposed body.

Shivers run through you, and you try to hold yourself still for his touches.

“Which hole should I fuck first, hmm?” His fingers search you, probe you.

Your body locks up tightly, a gasp on your lips. You hadn’t discussed that, and you shake your head.

“Scared?” He ghosts his fingers over your rim.

“Please,�� It’s all you can manage.

“Beg me,” He presses down with his thumb, “beg me not to fuck your ass if you’re so scared.”

You scramble in the sheets but he has you stuck, “Please don’t, don’t fuck me like t-that, you’re too big, it’s too,”

He massages one cheek and hums, “What should I do then?”

“What?” You crane to look back at him, at the masked man pinning you down.

“Beg,” He says it like he’s bored, like it’s obvious, “beg me to put it somewhere else, or I will fuck this pretty ass open and make you say thank you.”

Heat floods your belly, your body a sizzling live wire, and you fall right into step with a heady whine, “Please, fuck my pussy,”

“Again,”

“Fuck my pussy, please, I’m begging you,” Your voice sounds needy and strange even to your own ears, “I need it inside me, g-give it to me please, fuck my pussy, please,”

“Better,” His hands disappear into his robed costume and then he pushes forwards, his cock finally free and sliding up and down your slit to find your aching entrance.

“Y-yes,” You drop your head back down to the bed and in one sharp thrust, he pushes his thick length all the way inside you until his hips are flush with your ass.

Yunho groans, bracing himself with one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the bed beside you, the mattress creaking with every shift, “Needy pussy,”

“Fuck,” You moan.

“Greedy,” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, starting to pick up the pace now in earnest, “gripping my fucking cock like that,”

All you can do is hold on, bite down on the sheets and let him use you, focus on the sensation of his impossibly hard cock driving in and out and in and out.

“Are you crying for me? Hmm?” He rolls his hips, the fabric of his costume dragging against you as he fucks into you faster.

Your eyes are wet, pleasured tears bubbling up and you nod, a tiny sob passing through your lips.

“Good cocksleeve,” He presses down harder with his hand on your neck, forcing you lower into the mattress.

Your back arches instinctively, and you whine at the angle change. A few more thrusts and you’ll be done for, you know it.

“That’s it,” He pants, voice muffled by the mask, “come for me,”

“C-close,” The words tumble out.

“Come for me,” He stays steady with his thrusts, pushing your orgasm closer and closer, “come for me, come for me,”

“Ah!” You fist the sheets, legs starting to shake, “Ah, fuck, fuck!”

“Come on this stranger’s fucking cock,” He grunts, shuddering above you, his fingers digging into your skin and no doubt leaving a bouquet of bruises behind.

So close to the edge, just a little more will tip you over, and you whine, “Harder,”

He gasps, forcing his pace to clap harder, deeper, and it only takes two pointed thrusts of his cock into the deepest parts of you to send you careening over the edge.

“Coming,” You twist beneath him, moaning into your fist, “oh, god,”

“Fuck,” He curses as your muscles clench and flutter around him, “fuck, oh fuck,”

Your orgasm has your body locked up and shuddering, but when he pulls free suddenly you gasp into the bedding, “N-no, no, please,”

He yanks off any scrap of clothing you have on with frantic hands and then rolls you in the sheets so that you’re lying on your back spread open for him. You try to form a sentence, to ask what’s happening but suddenly he’s tearing off his mask and the world slows to a stop.

Yunho’s sweaty, flushed pink in the cheeks eyes blown wide with need, his plush lips parted and his chest heaving with labored breaths. In a flash he’s stripping off the costume, peeling off his gloves and kicking off his boots.

“Come here,” He spreads your thighs wider and presses down over you, his cock finding your entrance with ease as he sheaths himself again in one thrust.

You moan sharply and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he collapses over you.

“Need you,” He pumps his hips, “have to have you,”

Pleasure crackles up your body, “Yours,” you nod, “I’m yours,”

He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hot and hard, “Fuck,” he groans.

Yunho gathers you closer, your slick bodies now flush together as he rocks into the warm cradle of your hips, “never heard you moan like that,”

Your walls clench around him.

“You wanted me to do this,” He groans between messy kisses, “you wanted to run,”

You nod, lips pressed together.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He pumps into you harder, like he’s desperate to get as deep as possible, “my dirty girl,”

“Oh, fuck,” Your head falls back against the bed, a pleasured moan caught in your throat.

“My little fucking slut,” He groans, tipping your hips open wider, his hands tight on your skin, “so desperate to come on stranger cock,”

You whine sharply, nails digging into his back.

“Say it,” He threads a hand through your hair and tugs your head back up roughly, “say it,”

“Yes!” You whine, “Yes, I-I need it,”

His gaze darkens, the cool mask of your dominant returning, and he slaps your cheek sharply, just enough to give you a pointed sting, “Need what?”

Your brain is soft, fuzzy with pleasure, but the slap focuses you and you blink, “Need to come,” you pant as he thrusts into you, “on a stranger’s cock, need you to… fuck, need you to take it,”

He nods, lips parting open in pleasure, “That’s right,”

Your stomach tightens, pressure dropping low in your belly and you can’t stop feeling the way his cock punches into the deepest parts of you over and over again. Your eyes close tight and you hold onto him, one of your hands slipping up to his neck to tangle into his black hair.

“Oh,” You’re so close, almost there, “Y-Yunho, oh, god,”

His hips thrust forward once more, burying his cock impossibly deep and then he stops. That’s when you realize your critical mistake.

“Is my cock so good you forgot your manners?” He says and your eyes fly open.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to recover, your head is too mixed up to know what’s up and what’s down and you’ve never played a scene where he’s a stranger before. You’re used to your rules, you’re used to calling him sir or daddy or master, but now you feel unmoored.

“Now you don’t get to come,” He leans back, taking your wrists in his hands and pushing them down flat to the bed.

You know better than to protest, but you’re sure he can feel you shaking.

He drops closer, pinning you open with the weight of his body, his head nudging yours to the side, “Maybe you’ve forgotten who’s in control here, baby,”

Liquid heat spreads through your body and you shake your head just a little.

“So drunk on cock,” He bites at your ear, “you forgot you don’t want this,”

Your pussy tightens, and you hear him chuckle.

“Filthy,” He maneuvers your arms above your head so that he can close both your wrists together in one of his large hands, “fucked up little fucktoy,”

Your eyes roll back and you fight the urge to move your hips, his words enough to put you on the precipice.

A sharp slap stings over your exposed breast, your nipple hardening even more and Yunho draws his hips back before slamming forwards, driving you deeper into the squeaking mattress. At the painful stretch, the sharp sting inside, you do cry out.

“Does it hurt?” He thrusts again, just as hard.

You struggle under him, a little for play and a little because it does hurt, but you love the way he groans when you please him and you can’t stop, “Y-yes,”

“Too bad,” His hand claps over your mouth and then he starts to fuck you again for real.

Pleasure and pain in equal parts spike through your body, a perfect combination to get you right up to the edge of orgasm, but you know you’re not allowed. You moan into his hot hand, the sound feral and taut, tears gathering in your eyes and slipping down your temples into your hairline.

Yunho slides the hand on your wrists up to clasp your hands together palm to palm, still pinning you to the bed but offering you a line of communication you desperately need in a scene like this. He doesn’t stop, but his eyes find yours in the dim light of the basement and he squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back just once, your silent sign to keep going.

He keeps driving into you, cursing every time you moan and clench around his thick length, the mask of dominance slipping again as he starts to rut into you with artless, needy thrusts. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, with no regard for your own release.

“No one’s coming to help you,” He groans, “you’re mine,”

You can’t hear everything he says, not with your mind spinning so close to a forbidden orgasm and his pants and groans punctuating every few words, but you hear it when he says he’s coming inside you.

Thrusting deep, he spills himself hot in your belly, hips grinding into yours to milk himself dry as he moans into your ear. The bubble of your own pleasure builds with every rock of his body and you whimper into his hand, tears spilling over as you try not to let it take you.

Yunho’s hand pulls away from your mouth and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast and firm on your swollen clit, his cock still buried deep.

“Ah, n-no, please,” You grip his hand tightly and lock your eyes closed, trying to pull yourself back from the edge, “please,”

“Fuck,” He groans, overstimulated.

You’re going to come, there’s no way to hold back if he’s going to torture you like this and you thrash under him, “I can’t,” you’re sobbing in earnest now, “I can’t hold it,”

“Shit,” He curses sharply, “come, sweetheart, come, I’m so sorry,”

At his permission, your pleasure rips through you, a hot slice of rapture rocketing up your body. Your ears are ringing, black dots over your vision, and your body wrenches up with tight shakes in a way that only a soul shattering orgasm could do. You vaguely hear your own voice, a babbled string of ‘thank-yous’ and sobs, but it feels like someone else. All you know is warmth, and the deliciousness of earned pleasure.

When consciousness starts to creep back in, the first thing you feel is Yunho’s gentle hands on your cheeks. He’s murmuring something, but it takes your mind a second to process, and you blink your eyes open slowly to find his face.

“Hey,” He’s back to soft and warm, your tender lover, “oh, there you are,”

“Mm,” You manage.

He looks you over slowly, warm brown eyes flicking over your skin, “Does anything hurt, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, still boneless and trembling in the scratchy blankets.

“Hmm?” He nudges you, pushing for a verbal response.

“I’m okay,” You respond, but your voice is small.

Yunho, so attuned to you, looks back up and shifts up the bed to meet your eyes, “Feeling floaty?”

“Mm,” You nod, recognizing distantly that the intensity of your play tonight pushed you right into subspace.

“Ah,” He smiles warmly, “come here,”

He gathers you close, arms wrapping around you as he tucks you into his chest and pulls the plaid camp blanket up higher over both of your naked bodies. His skin feels so essential, a necessity like eating or breathing, and you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“You’re okay,” He soothes you, stroking your back, “you’re safe, you’re safe with me,”

A heavy breath releases from your chest.

“That’s it,” He kisses your forehead, “breathe with me, relax with me,”

Your muscles release one by one.

“That was just a fantasy,” He soothes you, easing the knotted up feelings in your body with practiced words, “it was just pretend,”

You nod.

“Just pretend,” He murmurs, lips tender against your forehead, “none of that was real, nothing I said. I love you, and I will always keep you safe, sweetheart,”

Your fingers relax, and you realize how firmly you were gripping his arms.

“There you go,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,”

“Yunho?” You manage, your body feeling heavy once again as you start to center.

He shifts, cupping your cheek as he leans back to get a good look at you, “Right here,”

“H-hey,” You give him a lazy smile.

He nods, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me where you are?”

“Basement at the party,” You answer.

“Good,” He nods, “now tell me who you’re with?”

“You, Yunho,” You reply, practiced now at the routine he uses to help ground you out of the scene and bring you back into reality.

“Good,” He continues, “tell me three things you can see,”

You glance around the room, “Old playstation, bicycle,” you look back to him, “your necklace,”

He smiles as you touch the silver chain around his neck, “Good,”

You stretch your stiff limbs in his arms and try to snuggle back into his hold but he’s not done yet, especially after a scene that new and that intense.

“Any pain?” His hands slide over your body.

“No,” You assure him, “a little sore, but I feel good,”

He nods, but keeps looking you over anyway. When he turns your hands in his and finds your scratched palms a little line forms between his brows, “What’s this?”

You look down at the red skin, a few shallow cuts here and there, “I fell,”

“Fell?” His brow goes high with alarm, “when?”

“When I was running, I took the stairs too fast,” You tell him honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt, I promise,”

His fingers trace over the broken skin and he nods, “You promised you’d call the scene if you got hurt,”

For how rough this man can be with you, for how many times he’s bruised you and made you bleed, he never fails to surprise you at just how tender and soft he is outside of the bedroom.

“Baby,” You close your fingers over his, “you promised you’d trust me to know my own limits, I’m not hurt, I got a little scrape,”

His lips close as he considers your words and then he nods, leaning in to kiss each of your palms warmly, “I want to disinfect these at home,”

“Okay,” You murmur.

“Anywhere else?”

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head.

“But sore?” He confirms.

“A bit,”

His fingers find your jaw, massaging the muscle there, “When we get home, we’ll run a warm bath. I’ll take care of all your aches, I know I was rough with you,”

You sigh pleasantly, relaxing into the warmth of his hand and he nods, dipping his face towards yours and capturing your mouth in a soft kiss.

“You did so perfect for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice threaded with emotion, “I’m so… is it too lame to say honored? I… you were so amazing, and you trusted me like that and I,”

“Yunho,” You smooth back his hair and pull him closer, “I’m alright,”

His eyes flick over your face, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” You give him the clarity he needs to know he didn’t hurt you, “you made me feel very safe, even though I was kind of terrified,”

He stays quiet, like he’s gauging the honesty of your words.

“Even when I was scared,” You lean in, kissing him quickly, “I knew you wouldn’t take it too far, and you checked in with me. I’m okay, I liked it, I love you,”

“You didn’t push yourself too hard for me?” He always worries about that, the double edged sword of a submissive who’s desperate to please.

“No,” You smooth your hand over his cheek, “I liked it alot,”

He nods and snuggles you closer, his fingertips coasting up and down your back softly. He’s quiet for a few minutes, just letting you both come down as easy as you can with thrumming house music upstairs.

“You liked it?” He finally confirms, carding his fingers through your hair.

You nod, “A lot,”

“What I said,” He kisses the top of your head, “during, about you liking it, that was fantasy too, you know that right?”

You’re quiet, taking in his words.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He continues softly, “there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it, all of that was pretend, okay?”

“I know,” You kiss his chest, nodding against his shoulder.

“I love you,” He squeezes you, “you know that too, right?”

You smile, wiggling up in his arms to see his face, “I do,” you kiss him softly, “I love you too,”

He nods and sighs, “I lost my head a little at the end there,” he admits, “I didn’t communicate well when you needed it, I’m sorry about that.”

Your brows knit together in confusion.

“I should have given you permission sooner,” He explains, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I forgot myself in the scene, I didn’t mean to push you so hard.”

“Oh,” You smile, “Yunho, I’m alright,”

“I know you are,” He dips in for a kiss, “but I’m still sorry,”

“Thank you,” You murmur, pressing your lips back to his, staying warm and still and soft in this moment together, “I know you’ll always take care of me,”

He nods, his broad hand brushing down your hair.

“How was the party?” You nudge him a little.

He smiles, “Fine,” he shrugs, “I was too focused on looking for you, I think everyone thinks something’s up with me.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” You laugh.

“Mm,” He nods, “and now I disappeared and we made a mess of this basement,”

“Fuck, I can’t believe you cut my underwear off, how am I supposed to get out of here,”

“I brought backups,” He grins wide, proud of himself for thinking that far ahead.

“You’re a genius,”

“There is a back door out of the basement though, right?” He looks up around the room trying to find one.

“Yeah,” You reach out, pointing around the back corner, “why?”

“It’s extremely obvious that you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life,” He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and stretches next to you, so casual about the way he just rearranged your insides, “and I’m not so sure you’re going to walk straight,”

You laugh sharply and shake your head, “Take me home,”

“Scary movies on the couch?” He squeezes your thigh as he rolls away, searching for his clothes.

You shiver, “Maybe, that might be too close to home,”

Nudging your knee he smiles, “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a movie.”

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crestfallenyh · 6 months ago

Text

new light ; jyh

cw: yunho x reader. reader making things hard for no reason, so this is quite long. sweet boyfriend yunho. a bit of a corruption kink. unprotected sex. backshot lol. breath play, hair pulling, biting and overall roughness mixed with a natural sweetheart yunho. not proofread, i'm testing the waters to start posting again.

"you should still talk to him, you know"

seonghwa's slightly muffled voice made its way to you as you groaned in disagreement with your face buried on his pillow. he gave you a sympathetic look before laying on the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbows and seemingly preparing to repeat the same speech about trust and communication he'd already given you twice in the past hour. before he could start, you rolled on your back and laid there, staring at the ceiling where the silver lightning from his bedside lamp drew funny shapes.

"i know i should, i'm just not sure if i'm ready to face his rejection yet"

you ignored the stern look he shot at you, he knew better than anyone how dramatic you could get when it came to your relationship. your fears were not unfounded, though. you had been thinking over and over for the past couple of weeks about the topic and yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak to yunho about your worries, and as much as you shouldn't do it, you couldn't help but convince yourself time and time again that it wasn't worth bringing it up. you wondered why, because your boyfriend hadn't been anything but supportive throughout the couple months you had been together. perhaps that was the problem. deep down you knew he wasn't going to judge you, much less laugh at you, as understanding as he was. it was just that the relationship was still quite new, feelings yet so fresh that despite his bright personality, he was often rather shy around you. the thought of him looking at you with flustered cheeks and doubt on his gaze, not from nervousness and anticipation but because of embarrassment, held you back from getting too sincere with him.

"i know he's gonna listen and maybe even try if i ask, but i don't want him to do anything he's not comfortable with," you sighed and put a hand over your eyes, the lights suddenly too bright.

"you wouldn't, though," seonghwa tried to reason, "yunho is not the type to not tell when he doesn't like something. also, i have a feeling he might be into that even if he doesn't know yet"

and with that you were left thinking. in more than one occasion you tried to play different scenarios in your head on how he could respond. your soft and sweet giant... how would he react if you ever told him about the dark fantasies running through your mind everytime you saw him, simply existing? what would he say if he knew how badly you wanted him to share the same passion for roughness you had, the same hunger?

up until that moment your sex life had been good, for the most part. he was always respectful and mindful of his strength whenever he held you, kissing you with light pressure and fucking you equally as soft. you liked it, but you wanted more. you needed more. you needed his weight on top of you, suffocating and hot. you needed his hands everywhere, those long fingers of his biting into your skin. he was always nice to everyone, it was no surprise he would be gentle in bed too, but you didn't want him to be nice to you. not in that instance.

maybe it was worth a shot. maybe if you told him what you wanted, he would find a new side to himself too. your hope it was, at least. that's why, by the time you met with him at your place a couple of days after your conversation with seonghwa, you were so nervous it was impossible for you to look him in the eye because the possibility of it going wrong scared you as much as the possibility of it going great. he noticed, of course. after all, he was always perceptive of any minimal expression you made and although he tried not to worry, his mind wandered off to sad places whenever he tried to touch you, hug you or kiss you and a slight hint of a wince appeared on your face. were you about to break up with him or something? his mind was restless, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense, with short whispered answers and stolen glances. you hadn't felt that awkwardness in forever. instead of dissipating the awkward feeling, the anxiousness of the situation going in the wrong direction already made you grow even more coy, and you reprimanded yourself. pull it together, you thought.

ten minutes into the movie you were watching and he sighed, pausing it and looking at you with a question in his eyes. impressive, you thought. he held quite well, but it was now your turn to hold your breath. you weren't ready, but you knew you had to let it out. one big sigh of yours after and you tried to ignore the slight shake in yunho's hands as he repositioned on the couch. him being as nervous as you somewhat calmed you, though you didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"it's nothing bad, i promise," you caressed the back of his wrist with your index finger, rummaging through your brain to find the right words, "it's just... you know, i've enjoyed our relationship quite well so far..."

yunho's eyes were fixated on your expression as you spoke for several minutes about how much you liked spending time with him and how he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, so intense that you couldn't help but avoiding his gaze. you said not to worry but your body was sending contrasting signals, eyes looking everywhere but him and twitching hands. he was slowly spiraling, waiting for the 'but' within your ramble. he couldn't even feign nonchalance.

"... i've never quite liked being with someone like i do with you, but..." yunho gulped, "... you know, i just.."

"what is it, love? are you not comfortable with something i did? tell me what is it and i'll fix it"

you shook your head slowly, finally making eye contact, "i don't think it's something you did, yunho. it's more like something i want but i fear i might make this awkward"

"you know when we have, you know, sex?," yunho nodded, more confused than before, "well, there's a lot of things i wanna try, and don't get me wrong, i like what we do now but i just... i don't know if you would want to do most of those things, and that's why i don't want to make you uncomfortable"

you cringed on your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were finally saying it and wondering if you should backtrack.

yunho's eyebrows furrowed.

"try me, y/n. do you want me to tie you up in the air or something?," he was so very obviously trying to joke but seeing how you made yourself small against the couch, he coughed, "wait, seriously?"

"would that make you uncomfortable?"

he stopped for moment to think about it, and finally shook his head no. he'd never tried in the past and he'd actually never thought of something like that to do with you, so he was surprised at his own answer. he considered himself a pretty standard guy when it came to intimacy, vanilla, if you will. he was too aware of the size of his body, so he never entertained the idea even though he knew people did lots of stuff out there. the more he thought now, the more he found himself interested on how the whole thing would play out. he was only worried about the safety of it all, and as such he explained to you. you listened, still a bit shaken up, relishing on how he was seemingly taking it serious even when barely anything had been discussed and you yourself had never thought of trying bondage, not too much at least.

"but seriously, if you wanted us to try something different, you should've told me before doll," he noticed how his words could come up as nagging, so he explained further, "i believe you when you say you've enjoyed it so far, but i'm always open to listen and i would want you to love it, instead of liking it"

and so, a long discussion ensued. at first it took a lot of courage from you to stop downplaying your actual desires and took a lot from yunho to stop blushing with each word you said. he never thought of you as the type to want to be choked and marked up, if he was honest. he wasn't scandalized per se, but the more you explained, the more he started feeling heat all over his body. he knew he was considerably taller than most and in the back of his head he knew people found that attractive, but knowing now how much you wanted him to do all those things to you and take full advantage of his strength made him lightheaded. he really appreciated how, although you couldn't seem to stop talking once you finally turned off the shyness switch, you still listened to everything he had to say to make sure he was also comfortable and just how far he was willing to go.

once the conversation died down you let the silence sink between you two, processing everything you talked about with your gaze lost in the distant glow of the long forgotten movie. after a while his voice and his hand on your thigh brought you back.

"you were scaring me back there, you know," yunho chuckled, soft eyes and a fond smirk drawn on his handsome face, "i thought you wanted to break up and turns out you just want me to rag doll you around"

the simplicity of his tone made you frown.

"well, now that you say it like that..."

he knew you were joking, and from one moment to the next you found yourself swiftly placed on his lap, curling his soft black hair around your fingers and kissing him, softly at first. his embrace around your hips was tender but firm and you trembled a bit, relief replacing the anxiety from before. seonghwa was right, after all, though you would never admit that to his face. you quickly forgot about your friend when you adjusted yourself on top of yunho and felt his hardness against your body. his eyes met yours and your breath hitched. how come the look in his eyes was so dark now?

"we can wait before trying changing things, you know," your soft whisper fell against his plumped lips, "think about it till you're comfortable"

yunho kissed you again, this time more fierce before tightening his grip on you and starting a trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck.

"do you want to do it now, though?," shivers ran down your spine as his now slightly hoarse voice ringed in your ears, "because i do"

you nodded almost too desperately as those electric eyes of his bored into yours and that was all the confirmation you both needed. suddenly your back was against the couch and he held up a hand to caress your face, moving the scattered hair aside while he positioned himself on top of you. as a reflex your legs wrapped around his lean figure and soon enough you were nothing but a bunch of short breaths and flushed pink cheeks, his hands went up and down your sides and a gasp left your mouth when he gripped your thighs with his ringed fingers. amongst the passion there still existed some gentleness and you whimpered, pulling him against you with need. everything was suddenly too hot. his touch, his breath, his forehead against yours after a particularly long kiss.

yunho unfastened the buttons on your shirt and removed it as well as your shorts, leaving you almost completely exposed under his exploring hands. he glanced at you to check how you were doing and you so badly wanted to wipe off the smugness from the curve of his lips, but before you could say anything, two of his fingers pushed your underwear aside and made contact with your wetness. your head fell back with every movement of his, soon enough his lips were on your neck and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. nothing on your head but him, everything was filled with the feeling of the cold metal of his rings against your folds and the sharp occasional pain from his biting on your neck that made you sink your nails on his broad shoulders.

it was intoxicating having him like this, his instincts so good at that moment that he knew where to touch you so as to pull the sweetest sounds from your mouth. he just knew your body so well. you wanted to return the favor, make him feel as good as he was making you feel but as soon as you lingered around the button of his jeans he used his free hand to grab your wrist and hold it above your head. you whined and his response was a chuckle. it was more fun than he expected, and he was honestly enjoying himself, drinking in the expression on your pretty face and the cloudiness on your hazy eyes.

"no, doll. today you'll just take what i give you, yeah?"

he waited for confirmation and once he got it, he flipped you around, pressing his torso against your back and his clothed pelvis against yours. the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs made you shiver, griping the couch tightly as he got a hold of your hips with his right hand to stop you from pushing back to feel him. his other hand was busy with his zipper and afterwards with prepping you. he slowly pushed two fingers inside of you and you gasped at suddenly feeling stuffed. yunho whispered reassuring words in your ear and after a while he took his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. inch by inch, you shut your eyes closed until he bottomed out and the air escaped his lips in a quick exhale.

you'd never tried it like this before and he could tell you were struggling a bit to take him, which was unusual. he attempted pulling out to let you adjust better but your muffled "no, don't" stopped him. he raised his already furrowed eyebrows, it was hard to concentrate with your warmth around but he paid attention to your breathing, waiting for it to be more steady before intertwining his fingers with yours from behind for support and pushing down with each thrust.

your moans became sharper and sharper and he almost couldn't resist the urge to go harder and faster, afraid he might hurt you. yunho loved the outline of your body and how you jolted every time he hit the right spot. he laid down on top of you, letting his weight fall almost entirely on you and enjoying the way your whimpering was almost involuntary at that point.

after a moment he grabbed a handful of hair to turn your head a bit, just enough for him to be able to kiss your temple. as if that wasn't enough, his other hand sneaked around your body to get a hold of your throat. he didn't put much pressure, but the feeling of his large hand restraining your air intake little by little and the feeling of his large body trapping yours had you shaking with a silent scream around his cock. as you rode your high, yunho slowed down the speed but not the force of his thrusts and so you were left there, overstimulated in the best way as he was chasing his own high. he was almost there, and the ringing in your ears could only be interrupted by the sound of his grunts and moans.

yunho pulled put and let go of your neck to finish himself off, looking at your exhausted figure and blissed out expression was enough to have him cum all over your back with a choked out groan. you smiled at him, taking in the image of him with his dark hair sticking slightly to his forehead. it shouldn't be as hot as it was, but seeing him practically fully dressed on top of your naked body made you feel fuzzy on the inside. your boyfriend smiled back at you and ran to the bathroom for something to clean you up. you would have to hop in the shower at some point for sure, but for now, after he finished wiping his cum off, the only thing you both wanted and had energy to do was to lay down.

he quickly slid one of his shirts on your body so you weren't cold and held you close, both still too agitated to give in to your heavy eyelids.

after a while of him caressing your back and you drawing shapes with your finger on his arm, you heard his voice again.

"you know, i think i liked that a lot," you nodded in agreement, both you and him knew that figuring out what each other liked the best was going to be a journey, but you were grateful for his willingness to try and he loved that you finally decided to confide in him, "what do you say?"

"depends," you joked with a sleepy voice and fluttering eyelashes, admittedly a bit flirty for his inquisitive gaze, "will you spank me next time?"

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crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

Text

the essence of youth is summers with you

genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 38.7k

c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions

synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands– choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?

a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read ♡

it’s the first day of summer when you move to namhae.

the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.

it isn’t very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but you’re wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like it’s going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.

tentatively, you hop out and look around. it’s a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that there’s a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach house– your new neighbours.

the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. there’s a boy who peers out from behind his mother’s legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your mother’s dress and the adults share a laugh.

the boy’s mother gently nudges him forward. “go on, sweetie. say hi.”

with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise he’s shorter than you are. “hi, i’m san. i’m six years old and i like the sea!”

the grip you have on your mother’s dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, “i’m y/n. i’m six and i like the sea too.”

his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your mother’s dress.

“we’re going to go play at the beach,” he announces, because you’re his friend now and friends play together.

on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

“sannie!” you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.

he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, “hello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?”

you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of san’s room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so there’s not a day to be wasted.

“choi san!” you holler again, thundering up to his door. you’re about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.

the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. you’ve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and you’ve also become familiar with the way san’s arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.

“do you have your bucket?” you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.

san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. it’s purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.

you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, “race you to the beach!” using san’s chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.

“that’s cheating!” he yells after you.

you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before you’re off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of san’s footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.

the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.

your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up instead– san’s only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow down– not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.

you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, “your turn.”

you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.

you end up slowing down because it’s hard to run through water, and you’re met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.

“use your own bucket, you loser,” he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before it’s swept out by the waves.

“are you cold?” san asks whilst passing it to you.

there’s vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. “no,” you answer, “‘m not cold.” never with you.

he nods, “let me know if you do get cold, okay? i’ll grab you a jacket or something.”

“my house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,” you chuckle.

“i know, but it’s the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.” san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks he’s all grown up now that he’s in high school. but it’s not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“okay, thank you, sannie. i’ll let you know if i so much as shiver,” you dotingly appease him.

he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, you’ve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.

“what’s wrong?” you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.

you realise he’s distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the man’s body becomes an extension of the ocean– a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagle’s wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.

san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the sea’s choreography. he declares, “i want to become a surfer.”

“what happened to becoming a dancer?” you raise an eyebrow. because if there’s one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then it’s dancing.

“becoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,” he breathes out. “just look at him. he looks so…free.”

you can see it in the way san’s eyes follow the surfer’s movements and sparkle with wonder– the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. “then try it,” you encourage, “what’s stopping you?”

san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. “nothing,” he proclaims with a growing smile. “absolutely nothing.”

san has all the summers in the world to surf. and you’ll be there with him for every single one.

you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeep– the last of his luggage to be loaded.

“i don’t get why you’re taking that with you. there’s probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.” you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you don’t really care right now. not when san is leaving and you won’t be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.

tugging on the straps once more to check that they’re secure, he chuckles, “doesn’t hurt to take it just in case.” when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, “i’ll be back every summer, yeah?”

“it won’t be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?” you grumble.

san laughs endearingly, “it’s only until i graduate.”

“or you find a job or a girlfriend and then you’ll stay in seoul forever.” you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.

“just four years–no job, no girlfriend–and then i’ll be back. i promise.” he opens his arms a little, “now, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?”

you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.

“i’ll miss you,” you whisper, because you don’t trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.

san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, “i’ll miss you more.”

you bite back the urge to respond with ‘then stay’, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. she’s discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you don’t start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you can’t afford that when this is the last time you’ll see san until next summer.

you all gather around the driver’s window that’s rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, “don’t cry, please? we can call whenever you want.”

you sniffle, “call me when you arrive?”

he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like it’s the middle of winter today.

san’s eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasn’t been able to see your reflection the last three times he’s looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then that’s between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.

you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it. “what was that?” you pull your device closer to your ear. “are you going somewhere?”

there it is again– the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, “home.”

you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, “home?”

“yeah, home,” san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. “i told you i’d see you soon, didn’t i?”

“i didn’t think you meant in five literal minutes,” you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. “oh my god, is that why you said you couldn’t facetime me?”

you can hear his answer this time– not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, no– the smooth deepness of san’s voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.

in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, he’s not alone.

if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise you’ve seen him before– both of them, actually.

on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. he’s usually in one of the university’s dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and they’ll appear behind him to say hello to you or you’ll be able to hear them in the background of the call.

quite frankly, the crusty quality of san’s front camera hardly does them justice because wow. they’re hot. and tall. they’re not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and san’s family are waiting to welcome them.

san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, “yunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.”

yunho and mingi thank san’s parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way they’re immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasn’t too tiring, you know san’s parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.

“hey, pipsqueak,” san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.

you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, “looks like you’ve been busy doing everything but growing.”

“on second thoughts, maybe i don’t really miss you.”

san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and that’s all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, you’ve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.

the rumble of san’s chest is soothing as he says, “well, i miss you. it’s good to be back home.”

you pull back a little to look up at him and god, he’s gotten so much taller. “it’s good to have you back home, choi san.”

the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, “but you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.”

“on top of the fact that san doesn’t shut up about you,” mingi jokes.

san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, “namhae! he doesn’t shut up about namhae!”

yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.

“are you two also dance majors?” you ask.

“yeah, so we share some classes together,” yunho explains. “mingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas i’m in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.”

“good thing, too,” mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the other’s shoulder. “i’ve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.”

he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be san’s. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so it’s his baby.

“are these all yours?” you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.

he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, “the guys brought theirs along too.”

mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. “you all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!”

“no, you were right. you can’t,” san chortles in embarrassment. “but there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.”

mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, “doesn’t beat the real thing, though.”

“nope, which is exactly why we’re crashing. sorry, by the way–we probably should’ve asked you whether we could come,” yunho scratches the back of his neck.

you frown, “of course you can. it’s not like i’m the town head of namhae or anything.”

“but they know we spend our summers together,” san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.

“oh,” you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, “you know what? mingi was right. you don’t shut up about me, do you.”

mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. it’s amusing to see san flustering so easily now that there’s a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friends’ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.

as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, “let’s go.”

“you know i can’t surf, san.”

he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, “not to surf, silly. let’s go get our buckets.”

your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, “buckets?”

“of course,” san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. “we’ve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.”

half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ‘namhae ninjas’ and the ‘highschool homies’. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word ‘neighbours’, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadn’t been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.

san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just don’t change, even over time.

mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.

where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.

“which one do you think looks better?”

your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunho’s pick. “this one,” she points, “the other colour palette clashes too much.”

san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that they’re discussing investment properties. in reality, you’re watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your father’s flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.

noticing the dubious frown on mingi’s face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants he’s holding. “this is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,” she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. “it matches your shirt. i think you’ll look the best in it.”

he immediately perks up and you can’t help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. it’s incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.

you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.

yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. “want to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?”

you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, “sorry, i won’t say that a-grain.”

he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacks– how could anybody say no?

you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. it’s mesmerising to watch yunho’s hands as he deftly carries out each step– the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. you’ve come to realise that yunho’s good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.

“how did you start surfing?” you wonder.

yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. “i actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,” his voice is fond. “it’s been four or five years now.”

“that’s really sweet of you.”

he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, “what about you? how come you don’t surf?”

“san roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,” you reveal. “i prefer watching, anyway.”

“maybe you just didn’t have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?”

you don’t doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when he’s soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.

you chuckle, “you’re going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, don’t you?”

“that’s true,” he hums. “but there’s always next summer…if you’d like that?”

at his words, you suddenly don’t know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, you’re interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunho’s progress. “of course you’re good at this too.”

you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within arm’s reach.

“how’s he going?”

san glances back, “he’s, uh–well. he’s trying.”

“my hardest!” mingi yells across the field.

with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.

the seedlings that mingi has planted don’t look that bad, honestly. they’re a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isn’t all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. “here, let me show you.”

you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, “they may just be plants, but they’re like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.” you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, “you know, it’s kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.”

having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle you’re all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.

your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. “yunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.”

at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. “i was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myself…give myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,” he reveals. “sometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.”

“i’m glad you had him to help you through that.”

“yeah, he’s helped me a lot,” mingi agrees. “he still does. sannie too.” as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.

“how are things at home now?” you ask.

he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. “both of them knew that i didn’t want to go back to my hometown over summer. that’s why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. it’s meant a lot to me.”

your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, “stop treating me like i’m the head of namhae. there’ll always be a place here for the both of you.”

he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. “we just know how much summers mean to you and san.”

“and meanings can always change for the better,” you counter with a smile.

mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at san’s admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.

“have you two just been sitting there this whole time?” yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw san’s attention.

“no?” you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, “yes.”

the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, “what are you going to do about it?”

yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.

that’s all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that it’s a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.

“yun, we can talk this out like adults,” you try to distract him.

whilst you’re struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that you’re not above begging.

“don’t come any closer! please, i’m sorry! i’m–” your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.

for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunho’s arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his pretty– but grubby– hands.

you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of san’s headlock. he rapidly taps the latter’s forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.

mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each other’s faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.

in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why san’s parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.

you hadn’t thought much of it– just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, ‘gonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD we’ll be there in about twenty’.

this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why san’s parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.

as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, you’re dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. it’s good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and you’d be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of you– having forgotten just how tall they really are– if your attention isn’t distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind san’s jeep.

either seoul has water that’s doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. you’d be lying if your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of them. you’re a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.

yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. “this is y/n,” yunho introduces. “and these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.”

you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, “and this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.”

hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, “and we keep you as our tall circus freak.”

the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.

before you can so much as take two steps, there’s a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, it’s san’s kind eyes that are gazing back at you. “here, let me do it,” he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.

left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way you’re subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.

there’s a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise it’s heavier than it looks. “what the hell is in this? weights?” you mutter to yourself.

there’s a giggle beside you, “sorry, that’s probably yeosang’s bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.”

it’s jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. “we can trade. this is much lighter.”

he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, there’s the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that it’s the short boy, hongjoong. he’s only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you he’s still easily taller than you.

“maybe you could help me hold this, too.” he’s holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern what’s in his hands.

“what is it?” you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.

except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.

as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, “san’s going to chop your hand off when he sees,” then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.

“it’s okay, i wouldn’t let san do that to you,” you reassure.

hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, “because that’d be animal abuse.”

“it’s been five minutes and you’ve already picked your side,” he laments dramatically, before nodding. “i see how you play. i like you.”

“it’s a shame i don’t,” you quip back immediately.

“fuck, did i just get rejected?”

yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, “stop digging yourself a deeper hole.”

you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. you’re definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoong’s friends have in teasing him.

you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. he’s watching the rest of the boys play ‘scissors, paper, rock’ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.

you’ve had the fleeting thought before, but now that you’re seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, you’re slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.

“do you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?” you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, it’s not him who answers you.

“aww, stop. you think we’re attractive?” of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.

immediately, the feistiness in you appears. “yeah, and i’m wondering why they made an exception for you.”

he takes on the jest easily, “god, you’re obsessed with me.”

“you’re right, i’m a little crazy for dogs,” you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of san’s chuckles from next to you.

“good thing i’d bark for you, then.”

“what the fuck, guys?” mingi interrupts, “get a room.”

at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, “hurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.”

yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for san’s room. you turn to san incredulously, “you’re fitting four people in your room?”

he shakes his head, “of course not. i’m going to sleep in haneul’s room. she’s on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.”

“she can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,” you suggest.

“oh, that’s right. your parents are in yeosu now, aren’t they?”

you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparent’s house for the meantime. they’re not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, it’ll likely be for a while.

san doesn’t tell you, but that’s part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that you’re silently struggling to adjust– even if his parents take care of you like their own daughter– so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didn’t just have to be summer.

“do you need to change into something else before we go?” he asks you.

you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that you’re wearing. you don’t mind getting them wet, but you can’t say the same about your underclothes. “yeah, i’ll quickly go and change first.”

he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, “it’s good to see you again, pipsqueak. i’ve missed you.”

you smile, “i’ve missed you more.”

even after the door closes behind you, san’s smile stays on his face. “i’ve missed you the most.”

no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.

“you cheater!” you screech when you feel san’s arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. “you said you’d give me a ten-second head start!”

his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, “i did! your little legs are just too slow.”

you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of san’s yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the older’s back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.

san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his face– revealing his abs in all of their wonder– does the complete opposite of calming you down.

you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jongho’s and…yeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.

san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.

hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosang’s attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermath– your trio absolutely drenched– and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.

at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and you’re momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.

“up for more surfing?” he grins at you. and if there’s one thing you’ve learnt over the summer, it’s that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.

jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that he’s a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.

once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surfer’s club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.

of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jongho’s softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own board– a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunho’s careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.

which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.

“you remember how to push through the waves?” jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.

“yeah, hang on,” he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what he’s telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.

“hold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,” he explains as you shift your hands forward. “the board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.”

you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.

“there’s a wave coming in we could try,” yeosang suggests.

the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesn’t increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.

“okay, ready? hold steady, steady,” jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, “and push up!”

you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the wave’s trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.

“i did it!” you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.

“you did it!” the boys respond excitedly.

jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.

“just a little more practice and you’ll be taking on the monster swells in no time,” yeosang declares. you know he’s exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.

somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. it’s san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, “we’re going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?”

“yes!” you shout back, “wait for me!”

ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming it’s san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.

“san, you left your ph–” you start, except it’s yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. it’s warm from the hours it’s spent in the sun and you can’t help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.

“here,” he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.

san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. “the ground’s pretty hot,” he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.

“wait, i forgot my wallet,” you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.

“don’t worry about it,” san reassures, “hongjoong’s buying.”

your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “yes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."

"even a double–no, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.

san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."

you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jongho’s ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, “bleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!”

the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybody’s, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.

from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he can’t help but feel like he’s going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of six– which will hopefully become the full eight next summer– and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that you’ll never feel alone.

“if only wooyoung was here, then we’d have someone to grill the meat properly,” yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. “he’s the best cook out of us.”

“trust him to be a good cook, too,” you comment.

when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who weren’t able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jongho’s drama society.

their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoung’s, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.

it’s a running joke that you don’t need to remember how everybody knows each other– you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looks– should the boys’ track record stay true– but apparently he’s a good cook too. some people really just have it all.

“what else do we need?” jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart he’s pushing.

“mingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,” you answer.

last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, you’re all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.

“let’s see if they have marshmallows, then,” jongho makes a move to walk away.

hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. “get in,” he tells you.

yeosang helpfully points out, “that sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,” at the same time you question, “are we even allowed to do that?”

he beams, “i like to think that until somebody tells us we’re not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.”

“i can think of fifteen different reasons right now why that’s terrible life advice.”

the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, “i’m really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as he’s older.”

“i hate to break it to you, but seonghwa’s worse,” jongho grimaces. “maturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.”

at jongho’s words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only you’re met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.

you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. “i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, what’s life without breaking a few rules?

except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.

“faster, joong! faster!” you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.

both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyes– from three aisles over– are as trustworthy as VAR playback.

it’s no surprise when the ruckus you’re all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.

with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each other’s sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, there’s only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.

if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.

you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.

you wish you were older. because being older means that you’ll have graduated, and being graduated means that you won’t have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.

“hey, you need those brain cells,” someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.

“can’t lose what i don’t have,” you mumble back.

“take a break,” she suggests. “do you want me to get you something from the bakery?”

haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, “got it. i’ll be back.”

you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. it’s been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.

your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what you’re relatively sure is the answer button. “yeah?” you say into the receiver.

“someone’s a little grumpy today,” a teasing voice sounds.

“hwa?” you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.

it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. “are you still studying?” he asks.

you deflate a little, reminded of why you’ve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. “mhm,” you hum affirmatively. “except nothing’s going into my brain anymore.”

“sounds like you need a break.”

“that’s exactly what haneul said,” you grumble, although you’re not entirely sure why you’re so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.

“because we’re right,” he quirks his eyebrow. “what’s haneul doing at yours, anyway?”

“taking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but she’s forgiven since she’s buying me snacks.”

“then take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. it’ll only be an hour, tops,” seonghwa convinces. “i’ll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and i’ll keep you company when you study.”

you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, “just a few more weeks to go until summer and then you’ll be free.”

“are you taking up summer school again?” you ask.

after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didn’t get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadn’t been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.

seonghwa grimaces at the memory, “no, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didn’t even end up applying for any jobs.” he points a stern finger at you and warns, “don’t ever think about doing summer school.”

“trust me,” you laugh, “i have no intentions of ever doing that.”

you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. “does that mean i’ll finally get to meet you?”

seonghwa nods, “woo as well.”

the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.

“oi! why are you all calling without me?” wooyoung complains.

contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, “we’re literally calling from the group chat. no one’s leaving you out of anything.”

and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoong’s profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if he’s in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so you’re guessing they’re busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.

someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but you’re momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. “hang on,” you mumble, “let me just…reply to this.”

it’s one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether you’re home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears he’s close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, “sorry, what were you saying?”

the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be spring– the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.

“someone looks happier. who are you talking to?” haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.

you didn’t even realise you were subconsciously smiling. “i’m facetiming the boys.”

she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, “i see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?”

“quit it!” you pretend to shove her. “want to say hi?” you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and there’s a chorus of obedient hi haneul’s as you turn up the volume.

she waves and peers at wooyoung’s video. “where’s the baby brat?”

from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, “stop calling me that!” there’s a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoung’s grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that he’s sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.

“you still respond to it, so,” haneul shrugs.

she disregards her brother’s continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. “i bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,” she explains as you take it gratefully.

at the mention of a boy’s name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, “who’s johnny? is he haneul’s boyfriend or what? why’s he giving you something?”

even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, ‘who tf is jonny’.

you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, “he’s my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.”

wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, “why is he giving you notes. and–what the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.”

you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. “how did you know i love these?” you exclaim.

she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, “how do you think?”

from over your phone, the others start to ask what you’ve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesn’t take a detective to work out how– or perhaps you should say, who– told haneul about your recent cravings.

because if there’s one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.

hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head that’s resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, “stop encouraging him, y/n. he’s going to think he’s actually funny or something.”

with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, it’s like watching a live sitcom.

wooyoung looks at him with a smug expression…then proceeds to yank the older’s sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of san’s living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwa’s socks and you’re glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyone’s socks are a target.

the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but you’re not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and you’re all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.

it’s only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks san’s third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.

you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because there’s still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboards– a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.

the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of san’s lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancer– he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.

as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boys’ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others don’t learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.

when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.

greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at san’s or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.

afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.

the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jongho’s hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwa’s shoulder, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

sometimes, when you’re all feeling rejuvenated, you’ll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. it’s rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessert– any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoong’s wallet cry.

the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. you’re all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someone’s head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.

and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activity– as if every second of summer isn’t already a bonding moment– where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesn’t usually actually become dinner until eight or nine o’clock.

but it doesn’t really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, you’ll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. she’ll spill her workplace tea and you’ll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.

there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete things– there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.

and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunho’s hands hover around the small of your back whenever you’re all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.

familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. it’s in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.

but the thing with familiarity, though, is that it’s easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you don’t understand this until you least expect it.

your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosang’s face. he’s taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone else’s remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering you’ve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.

you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. it’s when you get to your back that you realise you won’t be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but they’re already running far along the shore and you can’t be troubled to yell out for one of them.

you’re starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.

“your short arms can’t reach your back, can they?”

you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, “who was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?”

“maybe i just didn’t want you to feel too bad about yourself,” he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well he’s incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.

“stop squirming,” he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. he’s meticulous in making sure he doesn’t miss a spot, but he’s also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you don’t feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word ‘uncomfortable’ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesn’t need to know that.

“there,” he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that he’s finished his job and then callously walks away.

you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what he’s doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.

you’re flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, “hi, i’m sorry to bother you.”

lifting your head up to look, you’re met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, “that’s okay. can i help you?”

“um, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?”

the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so you’re not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. she’s pointing in the direction of hongjoong, who’s joined some of the others along the shore.

“the short one?” you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, “i’m not too sure, sorry.”

the girl shakes her head, “oh, no. i meant the boy on his left.”

choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, “not that i know of.”

the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.

you don’t realise you’re staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into san’s face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoung’s antics.

the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that you’re laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.

chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.

you can’t help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that it’s normal for the boys to have suitors.

you’re not dating san. you’re not dating hongjoong. you’re not dating any of the boys, and they’re certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boys…not just your best friend?

the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridge– likely placed there by seonghwa– is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boys’ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. you’re paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.

grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.

“hey, lil’ tomato,” he jests before he gets a good look at your face. “woah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.”

you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, “this is probably the worst sunburn i’ve ever gotten before.”

hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. that’s how you find yourself between hongjoong’s front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.

he murmurs, “hold still.” with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.

“admit it. you like taking care of me, don’t you.”

he rolls his eyes, “and you like being taken care of, don’t you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.”

ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, they’re just trying to keep low tabs on this…classmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.

“i admit it’s nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?” you challenge, poking his side testingly. “you like taking care of me, don’t you?”

you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.

“and so what if i do?” his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.

you don’t respond because you don’t know what to respond; you’re suddenly walking in uncharted territory– both in regards to his feelings and your own.

when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you can’t help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. there’s hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you don’t move away when he moves closer in.

your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.

“sorry, i–this was a mistake. i shouldn’t be doing this,” he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.

“th–that’s okay,” you awkwardly smile. “this never happened.”

he nods without looking at you, “this never happened.”

you’re glad your face is sunburnt because you’re certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.

quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because his…whatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldn’t be doing this. you shouldn’t be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.

and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesn’t have any romantic interest in you– or at the very least enough to want to pursue something more– then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of them– much less all of them– would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?

in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, it’s much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. it’s easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.

you can’t tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.

you’re all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.

dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoung’s skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallows– the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.

someone had then suggested a round of ‘truth or dare’, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.

“mingi,” haneul directs her question at the taller, “ if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?”

his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. “i’d date you all,” he shrugs. “but if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since he’s been there for me from day one.”

yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, “your parents would love to hear that answer.”

you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and you’re reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.

moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, “if you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?”

seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. “i think it depends on the situation, because in the end, they’re not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. it’s impossible to say that one is more important than the other.”

there’s a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where he’s coming from. it still doesn’t stop san from retorting, “the whole point is to pick one.”

seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. “what about you, then?”

much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.

“i would probably choose love. i think you’re right in saying you can’t separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,” he muses. “it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.”

a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, “what do you think?”

you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. “i think i would choose love, too. i’ll admit it’s a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be made…it can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.”

hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.

“but at the same time,” you continue, “when you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isn’t always possible with friendship.”

“you and san are both such gross romantics,” haneul pretends to gag.

“yeah, shoot us for it,” you poke her in the side. “wooyoung, truth or dare?”

“since everyone’s picking truth…truth.”

“who’s someone you’re sorry towards or thankful for?”

he whines indignantly, “why are we suddenly getting so personal,” but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. “if i’m honest, i’m sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.”

there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that he’s wrong. it’s just that knowing doesn’t always stop him from feeling a certain way. “and of course, what i’m sorry for goes hand in hand with what i’m thankful for. but i’m also especially thankful for y/n,” he reveals.

your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.

“i haven’t known you for as long as most of the other boys, but i’ve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happy–you make us happy.”

mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the younger’s answer, “when i’m here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.”

a home that he’s never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.

“so thank you for giving me a home here,” mingi looks at you earnestly.

if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, “no matter how many years go by, you’ll always have a home here.”

“and the rest of us?” yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.

“you all have a home here,” you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.

you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each other’s hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.

“you know what we should do?” wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, “we should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.”

“just…straight up scream?” hongjoong frowns.

a smile starts to spread across san’s face as he understands wooyoung’s vision. “no, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,” san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.

seonghwa questions, “are we really doing this?” and yet he stands up as well.

“when will we ever get a chance to do this again?”

one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. it’s silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.

yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, “i want to become a famous choreographer!”

there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but it’s enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.

“i want my parents to accept that i won’t be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!” yeosang calls out.

mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, “i hope i’ll win the lottery one day!”

you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?

reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.

thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.

taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.

and even though you’re all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, it’s the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.

you’ve known johnny since you started attending namhae’s provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. there’ll be a few times throughout the month that you’ll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that you’ll complete a group task together.

he’s easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunho’s silly humour. you know for a fact as well that they’re the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingi’s humour is just as questionable.

you and johnny aren’t exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but you’re not exactly close either. so it’s a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)

initially, you tell him that you’re not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that he’s been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise it’s a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.

it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnny’s efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and it’s not like johnny has done anything to suggest that he’s a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.

he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe that’s about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, it’s the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.

johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. you’re not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering you’ve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.

he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. it’s still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but you’re reminded of yeosang’s quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.

the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeks– the sun’s out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterday’s lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.

and when you’re not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can ‘see your pretty face’. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.

johnny’s laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. it’s boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you can’t help but see jongho’s own adorable giggles in him.

after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.

and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behind…or the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.

“with all due disrespect, his parents don’t fucking deserve to be parents,” wooyoung spits out.

yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingi’s heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the younger’s hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.

“i don’t think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things he’s told us about them over the last few years,” seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingi’s shoulders.

“but for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?”

san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, “do you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?”

“that actually might be possible,” san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. “it’ll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.”

“she’s in for a few surprises,” jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. “hopefully you didn’t scare her off after what you did.”

hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, “yeah, i hope i didn’t fuck things up for all of us.”

“you still haven’t talked it out with her?” san looks up from his phone.

hongjoong grimaces, “no, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“and you just took her word for it? god, that’s literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation that’s utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,” wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she says no to us after all.”

“look, i’ll talk to her when we see her again. the semester’s nearly over, anyway.”

san nods, “my parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this one–it’s probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. let’s just hope we haven’t missed our timing with this.”

there’s only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingi’s sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that they’ll ask you– be it yes or no– it still won’t change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.

there’s a man standing by your side, and it’s not one of them.

it’s strange to see you holding hands with someone that they don’t know. of course, it’s inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course it’s inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.

the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when you’re curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliar– oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside san’s house and freeze.

you haven’t told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadn’t given them a heads up of some kind.

you slip your hand out of johnny’s grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, he asks, “you know them?” and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.

“yeah, they’re my closest friends,” you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend them– or yourself. “san’s from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.”

“oh,” your boyfriend makes a noise, “it’s them.”

hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that you’ve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the man’s arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.

“i was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first day…i just wasn’t expecting it to be today,” you gently place your hand on johnny’s forearm. “this is johnny, my boyfriend.”

immediately, the boys recognise his name– how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoong’s mind. if he had not pulled away that night– if he had kissed you instead of being a coward– would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?

and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoung’s teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.

you’re about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, “you didn’t tell me your friends were all guys.” his tone isn’t accusatory, per se, but it’s definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.

seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, “and why does it matter to you?”

johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. “you’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” he dismisses.

immediately, there’s a palpable spike in tension. “sorry?” wooyoung scoffs.

san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoung’s neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriend’s name– respectively scruffing the two men. you didn’t know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.

in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, “you guys are here early this year.”

there’s a beat of silence that’s a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, “yeah…things ended up this way.”

the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriend’s direction tells you that there’s more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leaves…if he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.

even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that you’re not single anymore– that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they weren’t supposed to see.

“do you have classes today?” san dares to ask.

“not today. we were just…out,” you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.

“well, we’re headed for the beach,” san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, “do you want to join us?”

looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isn’t to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, “we’ll join. it’ll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like we’ll be seeing each other often this summer.”

“not if you don’t show up,” wooyoung mutters under his breath, but he’s not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.

you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. “we’ll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.” you don’t wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.

“wait here,” you tell johnny, “i’ll get you a spare pair of shorts,” then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.

you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship group– a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.

this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now you’re realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.

it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when you’re picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiar– except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, it’s that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.

san can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like they’ve missed theirs.

he’s distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunho’s stomach that’s telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.

regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into san’s mouth each time he falls– no longer the graceful choreographer of the sea– there’s a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.

it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.

before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. “strawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?”

you’re about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, “she likes the chocolate ones.”

san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, “no, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering we’ve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.” he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.

not backing down, johnny turns to ask, “is that true, babe?”

you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. “i like both,” you evade.

but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnny’s frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, “i know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.”

“you should’ve told me,” johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.

san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.

“or maybe you should’ve noticed,” he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriend’s direction before smiling tenderly at you. “i’ll order your food. go find a seat with seong–”

johnny’s voice is heated when he interjects, “no, you won’t. i’ll pay for my girlfriend’s food.”

you’ve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.

“it’s alright, san. thank you,” you give your friend a soft smile. “johnny’s got it for me.”

san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, “go sit down. i’ll bring our order over when it’s ready.”

on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. “y/n,” he starts.

you plaster on a smile, “it’s okay.”

seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “do you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.”

grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, “why are you even dating him? i don’t get what you see in him.”

he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. you’re distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that it’s a text from san.

sorry for putting you between your bf and i

you look up in surprise and find that he’s already gazing at you from where he’s waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that it’s okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situation– with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with.

your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications aren’t from him. it’s johnny.

what’s his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth

your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesn’t seem to be referring to your texting exchange with san– you don’t think he’s even noticed. instead, he’s still hooked on the ordering incident.

slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.

it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that they’re not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and don’t have with one another.

then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesn’t mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you don’t point it out.

and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like today– the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.

it’s not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but there’s something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosang’s cheeks when he’s eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into san’s side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingi’s entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoong’s eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.

maybe it’s because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, it’s easier to notice things when you’re watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but there’s something more to their interactions– you��re sure of it. you just can’t put your finger on what exactly.

it’s that thought that reminds you of yunho’s words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. “what did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?” you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. “and wasn’t there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?”

clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, “yeah, there is. just–maybe talk to mingi first. you’ll probably want to hear it directly from him.”

and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.

your heart sinks at yunho’s words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingi’s parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.

“i know i’m hot but you don’t have to make it that obvious,” he jokes.

you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. “come sit outside with me for a bit?” you ask mingi.

he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of san’s shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.

the two of you sit on the embankment just outside san’s house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, “did you want to ask me something?”

you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesn’t stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.

“i asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,” you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, “is everything okay?”

he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. “i came out to my parents,” he reveals. “told them i’m bi and…they didn’t take it well.”

mingi doesn’t need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didn’t just ‘not take it well’. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. “oh, mingi,” you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.

“i also told them that i’m dati–”

the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. it’s yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. “you might want to take this call,” he alerts you.

frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, “who is it?”

he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. “your boyfriend.”

you’re just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.

“oh, shit,” you can’t help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.

seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on san’s surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.

“y/n, i’m going to be honest with you,” he hesitates slightly. “i don’t think he’s the right one for you.”

you know that yunho’s looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but it’s not what you want to– or need to hear right now. and perhaps, there’s an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, “i’d know if he’s not.”

you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, “i’m sorry but i should probably call him back. we’ll talk later, yeah?”

mingi doesn’t know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.

“guess he takes priority over us now,” mingi sighs.

san looks at him bittersweetly, “that’s what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunho’s. in fact, you’re the priority of five other people as well.” despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingi’s nose affectionately as he fondly states, “aren’t you lucky.”

mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, “now come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?”

the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, “you distract him while i cheat?”

“i’m right here,” yunho protests, but he’s shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.

san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of san’s priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is san’s priority, as is the happiness of the others.

but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriend– and by association, you– becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worse…completely out of his heart?

you’re just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that he’s displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but you’re not exactly happy with him right now either.

you know an argument’s brewing– one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until it’s too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.

“why did you call me so many times?”

johnny knows you’re not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.

“i didn’t know where you were,” he halfheartedly answers. “i thought something had happened.”

you both know it’s a lie– a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at san’s. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.

“i don’t like the way they look at you,” johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. “especially san.”

you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where you’re coming from, too. “we grew up together, johnny. we’re each other’s best friend and he doesn’t like me like that.”

warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. “none of them do,” you emphasise. “and i’ve been transparent about hanging out with them when you’re not there, haven’t i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.”

he hesitates, “i was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didn’t reply or answer my calls…” the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.

“and i was busy with my friends, too,” you reason. “you’re not glued to your phone, and neither am i.”

you continue when he stays silent, “you’re my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that they’re my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when i’m with them, but i’ll also try to make sure i’m reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.”

you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that he’s disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you can’t tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.

when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, “i love you.”

you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimes–

“i know,” you reply gently, before shutting the door.

–you learn even more about a person simply from the things that they don’t say.

it’s two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.

with autumn just around the corner, you’re spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents aren’t in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.

and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and san’s houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.

a smirk graces johnny’s lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafe’s terrace. it’s not clearly audible, but it’s definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, “fuckin’ pussies.”

wooyoung immediately reacts. “what the fuck did you just say?” he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.

johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, “i wasn’t talking to you guys, but i guess if you’re offended–”

it’s hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. “you say one more fucking word,” he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.

“and you’ll what,” johnny sneers, “run to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?”

at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. “watch what you say,” san looks at him dangerously. “don’t bring y/n into this.”

the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.

johnny steps closer and scoffs, “that’s bullshit. you guys can’t even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when she’s with you guys.”

“and i bet it’s never fucking crossed your mind that maybe it’s an issue with something you’re doing–not us,” wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.

he’s suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnny’s friends step in as well.

“look at you, all riled up,” johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. “and she tells me that you don’t all want to fuck her?”

seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriend’s face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesn’t get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when there’s a firm shout over the commotion.

the cafe manager harshly warns, “we’re going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise we’re going to call the police.”

“wooyoung! hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses. “it’s not worth the trouble. stop!”

there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.

“you bitches got lucky this time,” johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.

the manager nods wryly, “you and your friends are still going to have to leave.”

“we understand,” seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. “we’re truly sorry.”

as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. “let’s go home,” he declares, “we can wait there.”

they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. they’re only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, “so who’s gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend’s a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?” he fumes. “because if no one’s going to do it, then i’m going to tell her the moment we get home.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa starts.

“no, don’t wooyoung me,” he snaps. “he’s a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i don’t even care if we don’t ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.”

seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, “look, i agree with you and i’m not saying we shouldn’t tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.”

“i think she’s going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,” hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.

“the campfire night is only a few days away,” yeosang points out. “maybe we should wait until that’s over…you know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.”

hongjoong protests, “and wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.”

“surely she’s not going to bring him. it’s a day just for us,” yeosang frowns.

san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. “i don’t know, probably not?” he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. “but honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i don’t see the point in ruining it for any more of us.”

seonghwa agrees and adds on, “and only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, you’re probably the best person out of us.”

san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. “i’ll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,” he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, “we wait.”

there’s only a few more days until the campfire– they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?

“are you sure it’s a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?”

seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosang’s lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, “he’s hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.” seonghwa knows hongjoong’s way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he won’t prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.

you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this time– only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. it’s been a while since you’ve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.

looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, “let’s get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.”

hongjoong cocks his head, “haneul’s coming?”

“...no,” you look at him carefully, “johnny is.”

“johnny? you’re joking.”

you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, “he’s my boyfriend, hongjoong.” johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you weren’t about to tell him no.

“and he’s also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?”

you know your boyfriend and your friends still aren’t on amicable terms, but you’re honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you can’t help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.

“asshole or not, at least he’s honest about his feelings for me,” you retort pointedly.

“oh?” hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, “is that what this is about?”

you challenge him with a glare, “what do you think i’m implying?”

“so i’m the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?”

your jaw drops. “you know what? what the fuck is your problem?” you shove his chest in anger. “let’s not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least i’m willing to admit it.”

you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, “what about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.”

hongjoong grits his teeth, “you’re making a mistake dating him.”

“yeah, you would know something about mistakes,” you throw back sarcastically. “but then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.”

“don’t fucking put words into my mouth,” he warns.

“it seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship it’s radio silence for a year.”

hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, “i was going to talk to you about it face to face.”

“whatever, hongjoong. it’s too late,” you brush him off.

you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.

hours later, mingi scans the room from where he’s perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outside– everyone except for one.

“where’s hongjoong?” he asks nobody in particular. he doesn’t think he’s seen the other since they’ve all come back from the grocery store.

“he’s resting in my room,” san answers. “said he wasn’t feeling too well but he’ll join us later.”

you roll your eyes at the knives you’re counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesn’t say either, though, is that he knows something is off– hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.

there’s an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, “i’ll get it.” you know it’s probably johnny so you don’t bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, “you look nice today.”

your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. he’s dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, “wanted to look good.”

you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoong’s uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.

“you invited johnny?” san’s question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.

your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, “yes, san. i invited my boyfriend.”

“and why the fuck did you do that?”

san’s swearing has you reeling in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, “we’ve put up with him for long enough, don’t you think? it’s one thing for you to date him of all people, but it’s another thing to bring him to this.”

you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. “so you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i can’t bring my own boyfriend?” you retort.

the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunho’s eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, “okay, i think we all need to–”

“whoever the fuck–are we just ‘whoever’ to you?” wooyoung harshly interrupts. “we’ve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?”

you know that you won’t be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, “i didn’t ask any of you to look out for me.”

yunho’s arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoung’s words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, “you know, y/n. we needed this trip this summer…more than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.” then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.

one by one, the boys follow him out of your house– first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince.

mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. he’s filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. “i guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,” he chokes out.

your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, “mingi, that’s not–”

but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your house– now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surface– you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out san’s name. what for, you don’t know, but your cry is timid and desperate.

as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs him– his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.

you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and you’re still in the clothes from last night that you don’t recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.

you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, you’re hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadn’t tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.

you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. you’ll clean everything up when you’re feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.

it’s a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a while…

you tap on jongho’s notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, because–

hey, wasn’t sure if you’d want to know or not but i think we’re going back to seoul in the morning

the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that it’s already eleven thirty, and that’s when you hear it– the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.

a brief flash of relief flickers across jongho’s face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.

every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. it’s only thursday today and summer doesn’t end for another three days, and yet–

“you guys are leaving?” you ask apprehensively.

nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.

jongho clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we’re heading back early.”

“oh…” you’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. “drive safe.”

like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and you’re also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.

as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nod– anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.

you hesitantly ask him, “i’ll see you next summer?”

san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, “don’t count on it,” and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.

as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesn’t see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that you’ve made your decision and he’s made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day you’ll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that you’ll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.

before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, “i think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?”

you nod numbly at his words. you’re forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as san’s jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.

“they’re finally leaving, huh.”

there’s only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, “not now, johnny.”

“you honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,” he comments.

“i said not now,” you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.

“i should’ve just punched them when i had the chance to.”

you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, “johnny!”

“what?” he scowls. “they were the ones who started it.”

you grow deathly still. “started what?” you interrogate, and when he doesn’t let up, you step in closer. “johnny?”

“look, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fucker–wooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. he’s lucky i let him off the hook,” he sneers.

you’ve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriend’s recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.

“don’t you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,” you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?

“are you fucking serious right now?” johnny spits in your face, “you’re defending them? you always take their fucking side even though i’m your boyfriend.”

you spit right back, “and you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.”

johnny’s expression drops entirely. “are you breaking up with me right now?”

“yes, i am.” you confirm. “we’re over.”

you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you don’t bother trying to hold back your cries.

all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.

you want to seek out one of the boys for comfort– seonghwa or san– but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that that’s no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but it’s much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.

in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, it’s you against the world…and the eight of them.

haneul takes all but one look at you before she’s making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that there’s no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.

the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, “san messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.”

you slouch in on yourself, “we fought.”

as surprising as it is to hear, since she’s never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brother’s vague reasons. she probes, “about what?”

you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.

haneul’s quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. “did they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?” she finally questions.

you shake your head and she asks, “then did you try talking to them about it?”

you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didn’t think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.

“what do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reason–or did the criticism from the boys just become too much?

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. “he was a decent guy…up until summer and the boys came over. that’s when he started acting differently and,” you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, “became an asshole.”

she nods, waiting as you elaborate, “he became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasn’t present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.”

the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. “y/n,” she stares at you seriously. “are you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?”

her question stuns you because it’s quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, “think about it before you answer me.”

you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnny…you had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.

but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. there’s a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, “the argument.”

she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, “i think so too.”

promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, “what am i going to do without them?”

“come here,” she whispers.

she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you don’t know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesn’t let go of you– not until you make the first move to pull away.

haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, “y/n, i think there’s more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you’ve lost your closest friends.”

your throat is scratchy when you mumble, “what do you mean?”

“i can’t tell you because that’s something that you’re going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think you’ve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.”

you know she’s right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. “what if they don’t answer my messages or calls? what if they really don’t come back next summer?” what if they hate me forever?

haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, “if they take a step back, then why don’t you take two steps forward?”

her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, “you mean…”

“yes, y/n,” haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.

“go to seoul and talk to them.”

summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.

in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneul’s arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that you’ll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to san– a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fine– that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.

the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.

you’ve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jongho’s birthday. you’re unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.

currently, the text cursor in jongho’s chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once more– it’s now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. it’s a simple message; only reading two lines.

happy birthday jongho how have you been?

really, you mean ‘how have you all been?’ because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.

you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you don’t care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messages– that is, if any come at all. but jongho’s last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isn’t entirely lost.

the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, there’s a reply waiting for you.

thanks y/n, i’ve been good

it’s simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.

i miss you

really, jongho means ‘we all miss you’ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.

his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.

can we call?

your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. there’s a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you don’t know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.

the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, “hello?”

“hello?” comes jongho’s reply.

your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, “can you hear me–” “hi–yes, can you hear me?”

“yeah, i can hear you too, hi,” you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.

the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jongho’s happiness. you’re reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping hands– the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?

“thank you for replying to my message, jongho,” your voice is unsteady.

he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, “no, thank you for reaching out first.” and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. “sorry i didn’t do it first…it must have been hard for you all this time.”

and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesn’t matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you don’t have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesn’t matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he can’t hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that you’re both talking again.

as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time it’s only with jongho.

“what about you? have you been busy?”

you nod, even though he can’t see you over the call, “i’m trying to keep up with classes but it’s hard with all the assignments due soon.”

“yeah, i have another huge film project and it’s taking up all of my time, too,” he exhales, then tentatively asks, “what about…how’re things with johnny?”

it’s strangely exciting to clarify, “we actually broke up a few months ago.”

you can hear jongho’s sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoung’s nosiness as jongho asks, “please tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.”

“yes, i broke up with him,” you chuckle. “he talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.”

“he deserved it,” he gleefully states.

“only i get to mess with my friends…literally.”

the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.

“it’s actually sort of funny you say that,” jongho muses over the phone. “remember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?”

you hum in affirmation, “san and i picked love.”

“and look at you, picking us over johnny,” he teases.

huffily, you banter, “picked you guys even though you all left me.”

there’s the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but it’s cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, “hey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.”

you resist the urge to ask why he’s even there in the first place, but you just tell him that it’s okay, considering how late the time is anyway.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow,” you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then there’s a voice in the background asking, “is that y/n?”

but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you don’t let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jongho’s last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenager– tomorrow feels too far away.

but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only it’s not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?

it makes sense at first to think that’s what has happened, but you’re suddenly reminded of haneul’s words– that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that means…the heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first loves– because you are in love with all of them.

that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be contained– it’s time for you to talk to them.

you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, ‘i need your help’.

and the reply is immediate.

anything you need

it’s the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.

you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you don’t plan on staying for long so you didn’t bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. there’s a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jongho’s familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.

the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think you’re able to make out jongho’s side profile leaning against a brick wall.

except, he’s not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, he’s the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.

ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.

seonghwa’s eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.

“i’m sorry, hwa” you murmur.

“i know,” he whispers, stroking the back of your head, “me too.”

jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwa’s cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to say– poems of apologies and ballads of confessions– for now, this is more than enough.

seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. “hang on, are you and johnny still…” he trails off.

despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, you’re touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. “don’t worry, we broke up,” you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. “you told him i was coming up to seoul, but didn’t tell him that johnny’s my ex now?”

he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “that wasn’t in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.”

said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, “what was he doing in your dorm anyway?”

“he crashed for the night. our dorm’s close to his workplace.”

when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.

“thanks, hwa,” you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.

“great, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and i’ve already become the third wheel,” jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.

despite the huffiness in his voice, jongho’s heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheel– even the ninth wheel– if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.

“ready to go?” jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.

are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; you’re not going into this alone anymore. you nod, “i’m ready.”

the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, you’re standing right outside the door to jongho’s shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.

you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intruding– which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here don’t know that you’re in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so it’s fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.

you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosang’s faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoong’s bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.

“holy shit,” yunho whispers.

that’s enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, “what the fuck is she doing here?”

wooyoung looks at jongho, “is this why you told everyone to come over?”

you defend, “i was the one who asked jongho for help.”

“i wasn’t talking to you–”

you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, “can you just shut the fuck up for once? i’m not here to start another fight. just–hear me out, please. i’ll leave as soon as i say what i need to.”

he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.

you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. you’ve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. “i…i’m sorry,” you start.

somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. “i’m sorry for being such an asshole over the summer–for letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasn’t a good guy. i shouldn’t have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.

“in particular, i’m sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesn’t excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said can’t be taken back, even if i didn’t mean them.”

nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.

even if he isn’t looking, you apologise to him directly, “mingi, i’m sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for you–for all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didn’t feel that way…because of me. i mean it when i say you’ll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, you’ll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.”

you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what you’re going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you don’t have to see their expressions. “it’s taken this fight–almost losing all of you–and breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friends…but you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and ‘whoever’. i think i’m in love with all of you and i know it’s unconventional, but…i guess love has no limits.

“but i’m also going to be honest. i’m still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasn’t your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.

“i don’t expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i don’t expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelings…if you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again or…maybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.”

there’s half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one another– be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.

“you’re leaving already? where are you going?” yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.

“back to namhae,” you explain. “i booked a return ticket for the same day.”

san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. “you came all the way here…just to talk to us for half an hour?”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “that’s how important this is to me–how important you all are to me.”

he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.

“wait,” yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. “here.”

he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and you’re starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.

you’re accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when you’re in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.

you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.

a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.

you’ve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you haven’t been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale has– or will tip.

so you don’t walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, there’s something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. you’re doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.

that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like he’s fourteen again, knocking on yunho’s door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that it’s his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingi’s nervous because it’s you and he’s nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.

you’re greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise it’s mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks good– a little too good– and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. you’re down bad, and it’s only been ten seconds since you’ve laid eyes on him since seoul.

mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, “come surf with us?”

the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if you’ve somehow missed the memo that he’s forgiven you. “you’re all okay with me coming?” you blink confusedly.

“the others can speak for themselves,” he puts it plainly, but then smiles, “i want you to come, though. it’s not the same without you. plus,” his voice mellows out earnestly, “someone’s gotta welcome me home, don’t you think?”

home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.

shyly, you return his smile, “i’ll go get changed, then?”

“is that an invite inside?” mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.

he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. “take your time,” he reassures. “i’ll wait for you.”

and he does, just so that you don’t have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined him– you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.

“what if it’s too late?” yunho asks.

“you don’t know that, not until you try,” mingi replies. “here, a kiss for good luck.”

you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, you’ve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you can’t say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now you’re suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.

but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.

for the second time of the day, you’re absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because he’s also wearing a black tank top much like mingi’s, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.

not that you’re complaining. but it’s also very distracting when you’re trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.

“you guys go ahead, i think jongho’s calling for me,” mingi suddenly announces before darting off.

you’re left alone with yunho, and from the back of jongho’s head who most definitely doesn’t even know you three have joined the group, mingi’s plan to slip away has succeeded.

“um,” yunho hesitantly starts, “do you want to try paddling out on my board? i’ll stay close.”

the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although you’re not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things don’t need to be spelt out– the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.

as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.

“here,” yunho says, garnering your attention.

he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that you’re not really trying to paddle and he’s not really watching for mistakes.

eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunho’s arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.

it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each other’s presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.

from afar, wooyoung’s internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands true– you make the boys happy and it’s obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.

the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.

and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same again– summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san and–

yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadn’t initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. you’re unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, “where’s hongjoong?”

yunho’s eyes don’t meet yours and wooyoung’s mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, “he didn’t come.”

san likes to think that he’s patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.

but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you he’s forgiven you and that he’s sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.

but his body is acting as if it’s an entirely separate entity from his heart. he’s unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and it’s as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attempts– or lack thereof– because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.

a quick look at his phone tells san that he’s been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.

there’s a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. you’re sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. there’s a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.

you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneul’s room. tension doesn’t exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san and…avoidance with hongjoong.

“couldn’t sleep?” you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.

san shakes his head, “you?”

“got thirsty,” you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.

he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. it’s only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why you’re not making a move to get water– he’s still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.

“thanks, sannie.”

it doesn’t register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, “you’re welcome, pipsqueak.”

it tugs a smile out of your lips. “haven’t heard that in a while,” you muse. “kind of miss it.”

and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers. “i know how badly i hurt you.”

the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. “i’ll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasn’t one of us–wasn’t me, because it didn’t look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.”

you acknowledge sadly, “seonghwa told me what happened. i’m sorry he was like that.”

“that’s not on you to apologise,” san refutes. “i was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.”

“i guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both weren’t aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,” you chuckle wryly.

his voice wavers, “i’m meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and i’m so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.”

you can’t help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, “are you calling my ex the problem?”

“exactly that,” he deadpans. “we all did.”

you nod, “thank you for trying to let me know, even when i didn’t listen.”

“no, i’m sorry we didn’t explain ourselves more clearly–or earlier.”

“but you have now, and i understand,” you reassure.

he nods gratefully before hesitating, “there’s something else behind all this that i can’t tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things are…okay with hongjoong again, that’s when we’ll tell you.”

something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so far– your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.

perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you don’t dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust him– because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.

“then are we okay now?” you ask, needing the confirmation.

“yeah,” he smiles breathlessly, “more than okay.”

the caverns of san’s dimples– the ones you love so much– shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.

san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he can’t, not yet. not until you’ve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until you’ve had a talk together– all nine of you.

he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneul’s bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, “let me tuck you back into bed.”

and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoong’s face.

when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?

“oh shit,” you curse, when it registers in your brain.

hongjoong is here and you’ve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boys’ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.

“sure, why don’t you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,” hongjoong scowls.

immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, “well, if you’re offering…”

“oh, fuck off,” he raises his middle finger at you.

you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, “yeah, back into my house that you’re standing in front of.”

“for god’s sake–kim hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of san’s door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesn’t happen. “you’re here to apologise!”

hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, “can i come in?”

“depends,” you cross your arms defiantly. “are you going to try and kick me out?”

despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if there’s no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to have– before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.

“geez! okay!” you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.

you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. it’s awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that you’re alone. “i didn’t think you would come,” you break the silence.

he hums softly, “me neither.”

you don’t know how to respond so you don’t, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, “i was–am ashamed of myself.”

you’ve been there before– on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.

“i’ve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and i’ve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didn’t talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your ex…why i didn’t just kiss you.”

you can’t help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.

hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, “i did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldn’t have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didn’t think my apology would be good enough. so i’m sorry for all the things i said and did, but i’m also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.”

he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, “will you forgive me?”

there’s not a moment of hesitation before you’re closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, “i forgive you. there are a lot of things i’m ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and that’s what helps us to grow.”

“you still like me?” he mumbles into your neck.

you laugh at the ticklish feeling, “very much so, hongjoong.” because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.

only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, you’re suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still don’t know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peace– the nine of you against the world once more.

“let’s go find the rest of the boys?” you ask.

he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, “let’s go.”

just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, “why are these here?”

you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sit– the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. “you know who they belong to?”

“yeah,” he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. “i bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.”

it was san who hid them in your coat.

you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their side– an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost don’t want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.

and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.

once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that that’s exactly the reason– no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.

it’s why yunho knocks his forehead against mingi’s just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. it’s why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if he’s just as strong, and it’s why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.

but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they don’t seem to be simply ‘paired off’. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when he’s tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each other’s company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoong’s ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.

rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isn’t with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because it’s much harder to tell what kind of love they’re giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.

san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides it’s time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosang’s jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.

“okay, so who’s telling her?” yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latter’s lips.

“what? how else are we meant to start the conversation?” wooyoung complains before mocking, “the reason i have gathered you all here today–”

rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, “are you all dating each other?”

wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.

“how’d you know?” yeosang startles.

seonghwa agrees, “i didn’t think we were that obvious,” but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, he’s quick to amend, “okay, maybe we were.”

san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, “we’ve been dating each other for just over a year now–so before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but we’re happy like this.”

“once our relationship had settled down a little, that’s when i came out to my parents,” mingi adds, “which didn’t go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, but…other things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.”

yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, “it’s long overdue, but we’re telling you now.”

the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. “i’m happy for you guys,” you affirm sincerely. “i don’t think there’s anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.”

you truly do. you’re thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it must’ve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then you’re reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?

said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. “why does it sound like you’re just wishing us well?”

“am i not allowed to do that as your friend?” you mirror his expression.

“god,” hongjoong exhales. “do you think we’re telling you this just to reject you?”

“of all people to say that–rub it in my face, why don’t you,” you grumble.

he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, “wait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?”

the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.

“you confessed–” “–i thought we agreed to confess together–” “–trust you to cut in line! that’s not fair!”

your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoong’s direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.

“hold the fuck up,” you yell over the commotion. “confess what?”

“how did you figure out that we’re in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?” yeosang judges you.

“i didn’t want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i just…”

“assumed we didn’t have feelings for you,” seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.

wooyoung deadpans, “we may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.”

“all of you?” you ask in disbelief.

“all of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,” mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.

“you’re one to talk about hiding your feelings,” hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, “mingi wouldn’t shut up about you after he met you.”

mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.

“look,” jongho cuts in, “what we’re trying to say is that we’ve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then we’d like to take our relationship with you to the next step.”

how many times have you wanted this moment– for all of them to return your confession. but now that it’s actually becoming a reality, it’s honestly a little daunting. “you’re all serious about this?”

a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.

yunho answers on everyone’s behalf, “we’re very serious.”

you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazes– that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.

it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, “y/n, will you be our girlfriend?”

like san once said, it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and you’ve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decide– so you make your choice.

“i forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?” san pokes his head in through the doorway.

you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, “don’t count on it.”

san’s pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, “you’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?” but he can’t hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.

“hongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung can’t step away just yet. but they’ll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.”

as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. “it’s so hard to align everyone’s schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,” you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of san’s hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.

“me too, love,” another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle san’s hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. “but we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.”

seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what you’re used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.

you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, “we could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.”

“well can you really blame us for being madly in love,” seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.

“that’s true. your beds are always warmer than mine,” you agree.

“exactly. now come on, are you ready to go?”

the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybody’s clothes separate once you’d all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.

as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, “wooyoung?”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, “hongjoong? i thought you two weren’t coming until next week?”

wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “we caught up with the schedule,” he exclaims happily. “you should’ve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.”

you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug you’re in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, “did you miss me?”

forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, “why didn’t i get a kiss?” so san pulls him in for one to appease him. you’d never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.

one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and san’s old home. so it doesn’t take long to carry your surfboards– save for you; the boys like it when you use theirs– and towels down to the shore.

you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. it’s a bittersweet emotion, knowing that it’s already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.

some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. you’ve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that you’re allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.

san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so it’s very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)

you’re content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in instead– and fails miserably– all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up.

“it wasn’t me!” the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingi’s neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.

not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.

you don’t think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.

on this day– the last day of summer in namhae– you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesn’t matter to you, not anymore.

the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.

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crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

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𖥨 alchemy of the soul: masterlist

“Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,

it's ancient tale of being apart or together.

As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,

clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.

You become an image of what is remembered forever.”

COMING SOON!!!

summary: loves comes in many forms. throughout our time, the soul will be steadily fed, by friends, by family, by lovers... but what if, eventually, your once in a lifetime comes around? what if, against all odds, for better or for worse, destiny will put you in the path of cosmic love?

or, a short series of exploring the ancient, destined soulmate trope.

pairings: reader x ateez. not poly, each part is assigned to one single member.

content warnings: majorly fluff and angst with the occasional hint of spice. each chapter will be tagged accordingly with appropriate warnings but keep in mind this series include mature topics, sexual talk, death and rebirth mentions, violence, lots of corny love and a lot of emotional hurt. chapters will not be posted in age order and updates may (will) vary in waiting times. please note that although this is a bunch of stories clumped together by a common trope, stories are not intertwined and are meant to be read individually. links to each chapter to be slowly updated.

𖥨 007. meet me in the twilight.

hongjoong x reader. a peek into the red string theory. a pirate and a princess will never belong into each other's world, unless there is something stronger than them pulling them together. where fate and duty play chess, only the smile of a carefree sea bandit can help lean the scale.

𖥨 003. dreaming a dream, every night.

seonghwa x reader. just two lovers who only get to meet through the dizzying daze of a shared dreamland and the glimpse of past memories. what's real and what's not? if they will ever get to feel complete by also meeting in this earthly plane, they don't know.

𖥨 023. run!

yunho x reader. in this world, physical injuries to a person cause equal pain to their destined partner. a mosquito bite or a bump on your toe with the corner of a sofa you can handle, but honestly... what in the world is your partner doing for you to feel such agony, almost everyday?

𖥨 015. shades of love.

yeosang x reader. pink for love, green for hope, yellow for joy. the rest is always grey. you can only ever see colors related to the emotions your alleged soulmate has felt throughout their life, a connection you cannot break or run away from as much as you would love to. you don't know this person, but you surely hope they're (not) enjoying your blues, reds and deep purples. a variation of the sunshine and sunshine protector trope.

𖥨 010. hope springs eternal.

san x reader. hope springs eternal, or that's what they say. san has never been a believer, after all, he's still an outcast who sees the world in a scale of black and white. quite literally. unable to see any color in the absence of what people call a soulmate, he's determined to trick destiny and find love in you.

𖥨 009. round and round, the wheel keeps spinning.

mingi x reader. in a world where soulmates are meant to live and die together of old age, a tragedy has taken his heart with your last breath. life after life, he will look for his heart in the smile of a stranger, hoping that one day, he will get to find you again and live his happy ever after.

𖥨 026. lucky strike.

wooyoung x reader. throughout your life you've always known that the only way of getting out of your imprisonment and reaching the outside is by finding your destined match, marked at birth. this regime was installed long before you or your grandparents were even born, you would never dare challenge it. as luck would have it, you're partnered up with the most anti-regime, most challenging human you've ever met and he is seemingly your only hope.

𖥨 012. last night on earth.

jongho x reader. in a world of war, love is never welcome or sought after. mass destruction and loss will harden the heart of even the most whimsical of warriors, and the slight faint of a tattoo no longer engraved in jongho's skin will only serve as a lifelong reminder of a forfeited future, of a missed promise.

#ateez scenarios #ateez smut #if you are able to i would love to know which chapter you look forward the most #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez angst #ateez writing #this is coming soon and i'm so excited oh my god #yunho scenarios #hongjoong scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #yeosang scenarios #san scenarios #mingi scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jongho scenarios #ateez masterlist #ateez fic

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crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

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ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you”

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?”

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!”

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters”

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

5K notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

Text

𖥨 masterlist

hello! welcome to the compilation of all my work so far. as you can see, i mostly write with a focus on yunho (you guessed it, my ult) as it tends to feel more natural for me, but with time i will also upload stories focused on other members as well. feedback is always well appreciated, enjoy! :)

kim hongjoong

𖥨 8:23 AM

timestamp. slice of life. purely fluff. gender neutral reader.

park seonghwa

jeong yunho

𖥨 22:46 PM

timestamp. best friends to lovers dynamic. slice of life. slightly suggestive. gender neutral reader.

𖥨 22:32 PM

timestamp. slice of life. smut with minimal plot. female reader. in a nutshell, boyfriend yunho asking to record your bedroom life before going away in a month-long trip.

𖥨 02:52 AM

timestamp. slice of life. lots of fluff with a hint of angst. best friends who are in love with each other dynamic. bff yunho taking care of reader, who caught a nasty cold.

𖥨 better this way

breakup au. angst and hurt with no comfort. slice of life. trying to numb the pain after a breakup is never the answer, much less when you know most of it wasn't anyone's fault but yours. this is how yunho deals with the aftermath after months without you.

𖥨 new light

slice of life. mainly smut with a tinge of fluff. sweet boyfriend yunho figuring out what his partner craves in their intimate life. appropriate tags and content warnings posted.

kang yeosang

choi san

song mingi

jung wooyoung

𖥨 23:08 PM

timestamp. slice of life. smut with no plot. afab reader though non use of gendered terms.

choi jongho

group scenarios, headcanons, etc.

𖥨 ateez and breath play headcanons

𖥨 ateez members when their s/o asks them to stay/not to go in their sleep

𖥨 series: alchemy of the soul

#ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez timestamps #kpop writers #author masterlist #ateez angst #ateez masterlist #ateez writing #ateez x reader

55 notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

Text

Aurora

strategist!yunho x spy!reader

falling in love with the enemy?au

genre and warnings: some fluff, loads of angst, slow burn, suggestive, manipulation, betrayal, lies lies lies, blood and violence warnings, swearing, human lab rats, mentions of self-harm (picking at old scars), lmk if i missed sth.

word count: 26.5k

synopsis: you're finally working at halaland's most prestigious research centre as a skilled cryptographer. reality is, you're a utopian spy trained by the crescents to uncover the suspicious activity in the medical research department. to get there, you must first become a part of jeong yunho's strategy team and win his favour. however, as you both get closer, the presence of secrets burden you both and you know you're up for eventual heartbreak when you fall in love. you dread when he'll learn who you truly are.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (made sure i got my ass working on this and yeah couldn't have done this without her <3)

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you stepped within Halaland, legally, for the first time. One could argue about the legality of your admission into the country but as far as everyone was concerned, you were a Halaland native returning from Mist Island after training.

“The wind is not different. The land is the same. I wonder why we have so many differences?” You wondered out loud and Seonghwa shot you a warning look, making the others in the car squirm.

“No matter how much this place feels like home, remember what you are here for,” Seonghwa looked at all three of you as he said. Everyone nodded in synchrony. “As of this moment… we’re strangers and I’m just the poor Mr. Park who was unfortunate enough to be collecting young female researchers from around the continent. Now… I hope you all remember who you are?”

“Aurora,” you called your new name, the way it rolled off your lips feeling foreign even to you. “For the cryptography team.”

“And the strategy team if you’re lucky,” Seonghwa reminded you of the first step towards your ultimate goal and you gulped, nodding. While he talked to Byeol and Nami, you resorted to watching the apple farm pass by as you drew closer to the Capital.

If someone had asked you a few years ago- before the war with Utopia began- what profession you saw yourself in, you’d say teaching in a breath. Teaching maths. Your original dream, before Halaland announced war on your home and snatched everything from you- family, friends, and dreams.

It was ironic that you were now in the very land you hated to the core, as their researcher. As the notorious Halazia Research Center- home to the most dangerous weapons on the continent- came into view, you couldn’t help but wow at the endless array of towers and buildings that must make up half of the Capital. It looked plain enough for the horrors it had been producing for a decade now. You straightened and put on a practised smile before you stopped at the gate for identification.

Thankfully, none of you held your breath as they went through your tags and got a good look at you. Seonghwa said a few words to the guards and then they let you through, leading the car to the Security Office.

You got off and took a quick glance around at the grey structure and the signs in their native language before greeting the middle-aged man who you very well recognised.

“Ladies, it’s a pleasure to finally have you here,” he took off his hat and tipped his head in greeting and the three of you curtsied. “I am Dr. Eric Cho, co-director of Halazia. I hope your journey wasn’t too troublesome- I understand you had to travel through land due to the circumstances…”

“Not at all,” Byeol passed her trademark gummy smile, one that charmed not only men but women as well. “I always wanted to see what Utopia looked like. I have to admit it wasn’t much.”

Dr. Cho seemed to like that attitude and he laughed out loud. “I’m sure it’s got some hidden gems too.”

“We travelled around the border so they probably don’t have much to share about the sights,” Seonghwa dug out cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to the doctor and you watched them light each other’s cigarettes, sharing a moment which made rage simmer in your throat but you tightened your smile- Seonghwa was only acting. “Shall I take them inside?”

Dr. Cho motioned for one of the officers to escort you inside the Security Office and you weren’t surprised by how thoroughly you were all checked- they didn’t spare one inch on your body, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable. When you were done and came outside, Dr. Cho scanned you.

“Are you the one who decrypted our code in the shortest time so far?”

“3 minutes and 28 seconds, Doctor,” you saluted. “Aurora Han at your service.”

“That’s a whole 2 minutes shorter than the previous record-holder,” his eyes twinkled and you passed a proud smile. “Do you know what can happen in 2 minutes?”

“The world can change in 2 seconds.”

“I like her,” Dr. Cho laughed. “Cryptography Department, is it?”

“Keep an eye on her,” Seonghwa nodded. “Puzzles are not the only thing she is good at.”

Before the doctor could ask more, Byeol and Nami were out and the five of you had lunch where the doctor briefed you about the ambitions of this research centre and what they were striving for. It was pretty well rehearsed and felt like something he had narrated multiple times so you just listened to every word and nodded like a schoolgirl. After that, you followed an officer to the Cryptography Department where you filled the paperwork so you could get a pass and start working from tomorrow.

“Shall I ask one of those guys to give you a tour of the department?” The officer asked, looking pretty tired.

“It’s alright, I’ll just find my way to the dorms, I think the fatigue is finally catching up,” you said and he bowed before leaving. You picked up your belongings and exited the office, taking a deep breath.

This was it.

After 3 years of training as a member of Crescent- a group of spies in Utopia that infiltrated into Halaland to find something, anything to win the goddamned war, you were finally here. As you walked along the corridors, peeking into the labs and memorising the path, you couldn’t help but feel both terror and a sense of accomplishment. You weren’t afraid, no. You were terrified of the fact that whatever you did here could turn the tide of the war.

You were looking at the picture of the alumni of the department, recalling their names in your head. You remembered what the Captain- the mastermind behind the Crescents- had said time and time again:

“The easiest way to get wherever you want is to get into your senior’s good graces. The easiest way to get caught, however, comes after that.”

You were staring holes at the picture of the person you wanted to approach first when someone cleared their throat behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“You seem to know them.”

You turned around with a hand on your heart, greeted by a tall figure in a uniform you very well recognised, the black outfit producing a striking contrast with the gold medals and red details. The Strategy Department.

“Of course I know them,” you managed to say as you took a careful step away. “Who doesn’t?”

He smiled, standing beside you. “Are you the new recruit?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you couldn’t help yourself and he grinned. You stifled a smile- he had quite a friendly face. “Do you work here too?”

“I work… around,” he said and you didn’t probe further. “I’m mostly on the field though. I bring data back. So… Miss?”

“Han. Han Aurora,” you told him and he nodded.

“Aurora,” he tested, a subtle raise of his brow as he scanned you and you licked your suddenly dry lips. “Do you need help finding the dorms? I reckon you’d want to get rid of your bags before you memorise every face on the frames in this hall.”

“Sadly, yes,” you replied. You could return his humour if that was what he wanted. He seemed to be pleased and offered to hold your bags but you insisted you were fine.

“Let me have my gentleman moment, please,” he laughed and you finally handed him your bags.

“I thought you’d have quite a bit of those moments on ‘the field’,” you commented as you walked beside him.

“Not really,” he shook his head. “I’m only a gentleman when I’m not on the field.”

You ooh-ed dramatically at that, making him grin. After walking to the third floor and taking a few turns, you finally arrived outside the rooms.

“Men on the left, women on right,” he pointed. “You could probably choose your own room there. We don’t have many women in this field.”

“Well, I’ll take my bag from here,” you smiled. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Jeong Yunho, from the Strategy Department.”

—-------------------

The lab in the Cryptography Department was going to be your workplace and it was everything you had expected- a bit tense, occasional jokes to lighten the mood, some of them scribbling while the others typing endlessly into the computers. You weren’t surprised by the vibe.

However, you were surprised when Jeong Yunho from yesterday introduced himself as a member of the Cryptography Department.

“He’s everywhere, you’ll get used to it,” Dr. Takashi, your team leader, said dismissively.

“When you’re from the Strategy Department… you need to be everywhere,” Yunho explained with a grin.

“Sounds fun,” you made a face and began setting your things on the desk, glancing around. “So what are your contributions to the Cryptography Department, Mr. Jeong?”

“Call me Yunho,” he smiled. “I’ll admit, not much. It’s you guys who will be cracking all the codes. Meanwhile, you, Miss Aurora, will be reporting to Dr. Takashi there with all your findings at the end of the day, and if you’re good enough, who knows? You might be assigned to my team.”

“He’s just pulling your leg,” Kate, who sat nearest to your desk, rolled around in her chair and looked pointedly at Yunho. “He’s the Strategy Department’s ace. Anyone who comes under his wing either ends up losing it or begging to quit, because once you’re assigned to him? Your life gets harder.”

“Ah, is that why you’re purposely slacking off these days, Kate?” Yunho raised a brow in challenge and Kate pursed her lips guiltily.

You remembered every detail about Jeong Yunho from the files you had read on him. Skilled cryptographer though he was playing humble here, very skilled strategist and you supposed the title of ‘ace’ fit him since his contributions stretched across multiple departments, including the Medical Department- your end goal. You knew in your bones that this man was dangerous and you could not afford a single mistake around him, but the fact that he was so… relaxed? Cheerful? Quite a contrast to the otherwise tense environment in the lab.

It put you off guard, and you did not like it.

“Shall I… try then?” You asked, drawing their attention. “I’ve been told I’m not that bad a strategist.”

“Hmm, my team has grown smaller in number in the past few months,” Yunho considered. “I like that ambition. Dr. Cho had a lot to say about you, so if you prove yourself, I might personally put in a request for you to be on my team.”

“I’m suddenly not sure if I want that,” you laughed nervously and Kate snickered.

“Yunho, you’re scaring the new kid! Get out of here, it’s only her first day, don’t overwhelm her,” Kate practically pushed Yunho out of the cubicle, his laugh ringing in the lab and the others present smiling faintly as he passed by. You frowned a bit- it was only a few hours into your first day but it was already full of surprises.

The rest of the day passed by with you studying the codes that came in for the day- thankfully, Halaland hadn’t cracked Utopia’s code of communication yet. You, of course, knew exactly what it said, being one of the masterminds behind the code creation, however, you knew you were going to be treading on dangerous waters here. You remembered what the Captain had told you-

“It’s harder to pretend that you don’t know anything than to pretend you know something. So when you see our code, how will you blend in? If you don’t provide a meaningful contribution, they’re going to transfer you out of the Capital. That means you’re done for. However, if you crack the code entirely, that means you’ve studied similar codes, which means you might be acting as a spy. So what will you do?”

“Lay low for a while and then plant an idea in someone’s head,” you had replied. “When the person gets closer to cracking the code, I’ll step in and steal the spotlight. They might call me shameless for it but in the end, what will matter is that it would be me who eventually cracked the code.”

It was only a matter of ‘when’ now, and you would thankfully be getting that message through this very code soon, by the Captain himself. Before that, you were going to start putting your plan into action and build your background so that you coming to the solution wouldn’t seem out of the blue.

And that meant you had to trick the entire Cryptography Department. That was easy- they lived in their own heads.

But could you trick Jeong Yunho?

Later in your room, you changed into your nightgown and sat at your desk, peeking out of the window to see Dr. Cho conversing with some strangers. You shut your eyes, recalling the lesson you had learnt every day for the past two years-

“You’re my asset, Aurora,” the Captain said and your eyes widened in surprise- the man rarely ever complimented anyone on their skill, let alone call them their ‘asset’. “You’re everything I needed.”

“And what’s that?”

“An innocent face with a deadly brain and a frozen heart,” he patted your arm, looking down at the scar that ran down from your elbow- an ugly gash that was a sign that you were a survivor. “You’d make my perfect little spy. You’re my ace, Aurora.”

You picked at the scar as you told yourself what you were here for.

Revenge. Plain and simple. Revenge for the people you lost, the home they took from you, the families they broke.

All hail Utopia, you whispered to yourself as you met eyes with Dr. Cho through the window.

—----------------------

You let a few uneventful days pass by before you took your first step- which was to steer your colleagues further away from cracking Utopia’s code of communication by pointing them in a similar but totally opposite direction.

It was simple enough- creating notes from the past few attempts of the Cryptography Department, reading books and books of code and puzzles in your spare time which you would spend either in the lab or in the cafeteria, anywhere where you had eyes. You immersed yourself in codebreaking like your teammates but with your progress, you proved everyday that you were better than the others by a good margin.

It was to the point that even your colleagues like Kate, who had initially cared if you were eating well, stopped caring altogether- you could clearly handle yourself. However, as soon as they stopped, you made sure to slack on eating, to doze off while working or scratch your hair out in frustration when you came upon a dead end. That certainly prompted some of them to ask you to take a break, reminding you that a burdened mind would be no good here.

Yunho visited twice- once with confidential information that only Dr. Takashi had the privilege to hear, and the second time to ‘glance’ around, as he put it.

He fired two people that day.

You were standing by a window and recalling the events of that day when Yunho spotted you and joined.

“What are you looking at?”

“The sky’s clear,” you replied casually.

The sky is clear. No aircrafts. No smoke. No cries of the mourners filling the seemingly permanent darkness of the sky.

“I hope you weren’t too surprised by the events of that day,” he glanced at you and you wondered if he had read your mind. “You should have guessed by now that whenever I visit, I’m actually evaluating.”

“I’m… not exactly surprised, I expected that,” you laughed nervously, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve heard enough about you and your fellows from the Strategy Department. I’m just… wondering why Strategy holds the authority to do that. I thought the Head of Cryptography did that?”

“You’re right,” Yunho nodded. “But your Head of Department is far too busy for such meagre tasks. He lets us handle it. Why do you think we hold that authority?”

You looked at him this time. “Because every second is valuable, and you cannot afford to entertain people who’re not contributing?”

“Something along those lines, but to be exact, we cannot afford the people who waste our resources. We’re few in numbers but we need maximum output. And for that, we need people who do not slack, or who at least try. So my next question is, how much are you trying, Aurora?”

Your heart sank despite all the training you had done before arriving here. “I cannot be the judge of that.”

“Exactly. You said you’re not a bad strategist. I see potential in you, but so far I haven’t seen output, Aurora. So if you at least want to stay in the Cryptography Department, I’ll need to see something significant soon.”

Asshole, you thought. You cleared your throat. “I do have this notion that I'm entertaining. I won’t spill until I’m at least 51 percent sure, but I think it could turn the tide.”

“Is that so?” Yunho raised a curious brow.

“I’m just trying my best… Sir.”

Yunho laughed heartily at your sudden use of title and you almost glared daggers at him though his hearty laugh forced your lips to curve a bit. “I’m not pulling rank on you- that was not my intention. But… you keep working on that, okay? I’d like to hear what you’re thinking, even if you’re 49 percent sure.”

With that, he walked off and you watched his tall figure until he paused and turned, catching you staring at him.

“And Aurora?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Yunho for you,” he smiled, disappearing into the shadows. You found yourself stifling a smile at the man who could be both ice cold and warm as the sun.

Who could either unintentionally push you to success in this mission or destroy you if he learned of your true identity.

—---------------------

It was your first day off since you arrived at the facility, but you weren’t going to waste it roaming around. You had a number of tasks for today and you couldn’t risk getting caught.

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went out for your usual jog but to meet Seonghwa this time and exchange information. A few days ago you hid a letter behind one of the tires of his truck and you were going to get your answer today. You spotted Seonghwa and said hi.

“I hope you’ve adjusted well,” he asked, not daring to glance around. The people here may not have their eyes everywhere but they sure had ears.

“I’m managing,” you said with a short laugh. “Did you just get back?”

“No, I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said and you nodded slowly. “I think I’ll be on the road for a while this time.”

“I see… have a safe journey, and may the fates be with you,” you said- the farewell greeting of Mist Island. “And may you not have a problem with the tires. That one looks flat.”

“Yeah, I called someone to help me out with that,” Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck tiredly.

“Well, I’ll be resuming my jog now.”

“Go along, and good luck with whatever the hell you’re doing here,” Seonghwa laughed lightly. “If I get praised to have found you, I’ll assume you’ve succeeded.”

“Of course, I’ll make you proud,” you saluted sarcastically before going back to your jog and analysing the conversation you just had in your head.

You had talked in code- subtle hints on what to do. Seonghwa was going somewhere far but would be travelling through Utopia- the reason he said he’d be on the road for a while. You had pointed out the flat tire where you had sneaked in a note for him a few days earlier. He had answered your question- you were doing good and now you needed to play the cards right- you needed to proceed with the plan.

So later that day, you went to Dr. Takashi and asked him why everyone in the department was analysing Utopia’s code according to maths and logic, rather than language itself.

Dr. Takashi looked at you in confusion. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m saying,” you swallowed, pretending to gather your courage- you knew Dr. Takashi rarely bought anyone's bullshit. “Yes, codes are usually connected to maths. It’s some simple formula, some calculation. But what if Utopia’s code is a play on language itself? Utopian language? What if, for instance, this word-” you pointed at what seemed like a random scribble, “-what if this word is a made-up word from different words, or even languages?”

“I understand what you’re implying, but I’m sure someone has already entertained this possibility before you. What makes this time different?”

“If we can crack even one word…” you began. “We could decipher the entire code. We just need to focus on patterns and repetitions and check the similarities with Utopian vocabulary or other languages.”

Dr. Takashi thought for a moment, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. He looked at you for a few moments and then picked up the phone. You raised a brow in confusion, watching him click 2 for the Strategy Department.

“It’s- it’s just a possibility I was wondering we could entertain- are you gonna fire me?”

“Relax,” Dr. Takashi chuckled and then cleared his throat when the line connected. “This is Dr. Takashi from Cryptograph. Could I have someone from Strategy? I think we might have something worth checking out.”

This time your surprise was a bit genuine- you hadn’t expected him to immediately ring the Strategy Department. You prayed Yunho would come- you had met another person from that department and he really wasn’t pleasant to be around.

But when Yunho entered, he had a knowing smile. “I knew it had something to do with the newcomer.”

“You’re quick,” Dr. Takashi commented. “You should hear her out.”

“51 percent sure?” Yunho asked and you nodded, the doctor looking between you two, lost. “Go ahead then. Surprise me.”

You showed your own framework and explained how with an approach that targeted repetitions and patterns in the Utopian language and worked on unjumbling it might work better and resultantly, shorten the workload. You explained that the focus should be on lingual patterns instead of mathematical ones. If you manage to crack some part of the code, you could at least make some sense of the whole message.

“That’s actually not such a bad idea. Why hasn't anyone entertained this possibility yet? It’s not a new approach as far as I know,” Yunho asked.

“A similar approach was suggested by someone a few days earlier, but they weren't sure just how to implement it. Aurora here, however, seems to have built her own code as a set of guidelines. Certainly makes work easier.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘guidelines’...” you faltered but the two weren’t impressed by your lack of confidence.

“You built this code in how many days exactly?” Yunho asked, grabbing the document and checking it out.

“One day. 14 hours, to be exact.”

“And this is new? I haven’t seen something like this before, have you, Dr. Takashi?”

“I don’t think so either,” he peeked at the table. “I think you’re not meant to be here, Aurora.”

“What do you mean?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“I mean you should be creating instead of cracking,” Dr. Takashi was clearly impressed, glancing at Yunho as if to dare him to contradict his statement. Yunho, however, remained quiet until he had finished reading the code.

“I think I’ll have the team split into half- one of them can go with this approach while the other continue with their progress. I’ll have you manage that, Dr. Takashi. As for you, Aurora…” he glanced at you, face void of expressions. “Continue entertaining more possibilities- don’t waste time merging with a team unless you’re sure you’re onto something. And this time, I’ll have your ideas that you’re only about 40 percent sure as well.”

You nodded eagerly and he finally smiled. “Good work there.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and Yunho asked Dr. Takashi if he could have a word. You went back to your seat and watched the two talk in hushed voices, glancing at you. You pretended to get back to work, glad that you were the only one who could hear the thumping of your heart.

You’d done it. You had diverted the attention when they came close to actually cracking Utopia’s code. And you might just have landed a seat in the Strategy Department- you were pretty sure the two were discussing it, though you knew the type of person Jeong Yunho was, he would wait a good while and test you a lot more before ever giving you access to the facility’s perhaps most important department.

—-------------------

You stood outside the Medical Department- the largest building in the entire facility, and you sure felt like an outsider in front of the enormous doors. You showed the guard your permit and identification card and he let you in, handing you a pamphlet with a map and requesting that you follow the directions instead of roaming around.

You ignored that. You came to roam around.

You stood in the hallway, a stretch of white and gold leading to glass doors on either side of you, the one on the left for emergency (ICU) and handling outdoor patients (OPD). Most of the traffic was around there, but-

The Medical Research Department was on your right, a semi-restricted area that you needed to get access to. The one the Captain told you about. Your origin as a spy and your end goal.

The war was going to turn 10 this year. Halaland’s war hadn’t always been with Utopia- in fact, Utopia had once been Halaland’s strongest ally, until some political strife that was unknown even to the most trusted agents of Utopia caused Halaland to ‘unwillingly’ turn their weapons towards Utopia- which happened about 4 years ago.

The Captain had told you that the strife was born due to some disagreement in Medical Research. Utopia and Halaland had worked very closely there, and now it was your job now to see if it was just a coincidence that none of the Utopians made it back alive after being expelled when the two went against each other.

You wondered if the Captain was right. What could be in Medical Research? Drugs? Did they finally discover how to extend their life? Or some unexplainable discovery no one could ever begin to comprehend the notion of?

You waited until someone started going towards the right, following a middle-aged woman through the hallway until she turned towards a lab, leaving you alone in the corridor. You hid the map in your pocket and walked until you reached the sign with the layout of the building- Level 1 being the ground floor which contained labs for testing the official samples, Level 2 being the experimentation labs, and Level 3 being the restricted section. You knew all this from the information the Captain had gathered from ex-employees of this facility.

You also knew you could get access to Level 3- the restricted section- if you become a part of the strategy team. That wasn’t the end, though. Your priority was the basement that they called Level 0. The one that not even the residents of the Medical Department knew of.

The one that, if still in operation, might have something that could lead Utopia to salvation.

You heard someone come and you pretended to be lost, looking at them for help. It was a man about your age. “Looking for someone?”

“I’m wondering if I should give my blood sample here or in the OPD,” you let your voice shake nervously.

“Cryptography Department? You must be here for your monthly exam,” he asked and you nodded. “Well, you’ll have to go to the OPD for that, but if you’re already here, I’ll save you the trip, follow me.”

You thanked him, walking a few steps behind him and he asked if you had received the map or instructions before entering. You told him it was your first month here and the guard was too busy eating snacks to provide help. The man shook his head, telling you this wasn’t the first time someone had strayed here.

After giving your blood sample, you walked back to your department slowly, calculating the outcome of each move you could make from here on. There were a number of paths the Captain had sketched for you, but he had trusted you as long as you reached your goal with minimum damage. But no matter what, you had to win Jeong Yunho’s favour and get yourself in his strategy team if you wanted to get to Level 0.

And maybe it was time you showed Yunho just what you were made of.

You went straight back to your lab and started working on another code-cracking framework you had been building for the last two days. Once you were done, you analysed it with a few samples of Utopia’s code.

If anyone could actually figure it out (which you were sure no one in this lab would) it could break at least half of Utopia’s code language. For days, you had built everything for this exact moment. With your heart skipping beats to the point you had to sit down and shut your eyes for a few seconds, you got up and walked to your colleague Sam.

“Can I have a moment?”

He looked up, pushing his glasses up and his tousled washed-out hair away. “Sure. What’s the matter?”

You took a seat next to him. “You specialise in the structures of codes, right? I was wondering if this framework makes any sense to you- I thought an external opinion would be good because my brain’s a mess right now and I don’t want to dump this away without being sure.”

“Ah, let me see,” Sam started going through the document and you watched him look unimpressed until you pushed at the Utopian code’s samples you had been working on, which was when he detected the pattern and looked at you in surprise.

“Where did you get this?”

“The framework? I built this-”

“No, the samples,” he began, opening his drawer and pausing to check the date on your copy of samples before rushing through his drawers, creating a mess and then asking Kate to get two copies of the samples from all the dates you had already analysed. You pretended to be nervous but you were actually sweating visibly.

“Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah- yeah, everything is okay,” he nodded, his pitch uneven. “I just need to make sure you have the right samples.”

Kate arrived, looking intrigued and you both watched Sam double-checking everything and even calling the linguist in the room. You kept scratching at the skin around your fingernails until Sam finally took off his glasses and looked at you in disbelief.

“I think you’ve done it, Aurora. We’ve never been closer to cracking the entire code.”

You almost cried out in disbelief, looking around to see the rest with genuine smiles on their faces. Sam told you to follow him to Dr. Takashi’s office where the two of you briefed him on your progress and he immediately pulled the codes that had been intercepted today and let you work on it. You decrypted about 25 percent of the code.

“It makes sense,” Dr. Takashi studied it. “Unless we’re all gaslighting ourselves to believe it does. I think we should still get Strategy to see it- if they can get this to the engineers, they might be able to feed this format into their machines, which would make decryption a matter of mere seconds. We could win this war, Aurora, because you sit holed up in a corner with those stupid gummy bears and your codes, do you understand?”

This time, your tears of happiness were real, though not for the reason they thought.

I can win this war.

“I guess it’s a battle of who falls first- Aurora’s teeth or Utopia.”

“That’s a bad joke, Sam,” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “My teeth are perfectly intact. Gummy bears are harmless.”

“Says who?”

You turned to the familiar voice- Yunho, entering and looking just as surprised to see you. “Don’t tell me you called me because someone has cavities.”

You turned to Dr. Takashi- when did he call him? Or did someone else?

“Those gummy bears might have contributed to the decryption. Take a look at this, Yunho, and tell me what you make of it.”

Yunho looked sceptical as he glanced at you before sitting down. You gulped involuntarily as he analysed the document faster than even Dr. Takashi who was supposedly the expert here. He checked the decrypted sample.

“You broke the code?” He glanced at you.

“A bit of it, it seems?”

Yunho stared at you as if he had figured you out, scanning every bit of your face and your body language. When he finally got up, you almost sighed in relief. “I’ll get this to the Department. Aurora, follow me please.”

You gathered up the rest of the documents, arranging them as you followed Yunho who looked even taller in his uniform- perhaps he had just returned from the ‘field’. He turned as if he had felt you staring at him and smiled encouragingly, allowing you to fall in step with him.

“So what’s it about the gummy bears?”

“I may have a severe addiction, Sir.”

Yunho grinned at the way you formally put it. “And that addiction may have contributed to this outcome? If so, I might send a request to the government to send funds for… ‘snacks’.”

“Definitely,” you grinned but it fell when you felt another nervous cramp in your stomach. “Can you please tell me what to expect? I might fall down at this rate, I’m very nervous.”

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Yunho said and your heart lurched at the way he so casually said that. “Well, Strategy is nothing like the Cryptography Department. I’m not saying your bunch is relaxed but everyone is always tense in our department. You’ll see what I mean- just try not to speak unless you’re spoken to, and try to… stick with me.”

You made an impressed face. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later,” Yunho said and you exited the building, the evening sun casting a golden glance and making Yunho’s skin glow beautifully.

“Try not to stare at anyone if you can help it,” Yunho caught you looking and you felt like you could disappear- so much for training to be subtle. Yunho always caught you looking at him and that did nothing but worsen your unnecessary want to keep looking at him.

“I don’t stare at just anyone! What do you take me for,” you almost mumbled. “You stare more than me.”

“That’s because I’m figuring you out.”

“Who says I’m not looking at you for that reason too?” You countered.

Yunho paused, stifling his smile. “Figuring people out is a part of my job, Aurora.”

Sure is.

“Figuring people out is a part of my personality,” you simply said.

“And would you say you have me figured out? With the amount of times I’ve caught you looking at me, I bet you have…”

“Are you…” you laughed. “Trying to flirt or something? And no I haven’t figured you out, you’re a hard nut to crack.”

The sound of Yunho’s laugh warmed your heart. “That wasn’t my intention, I’m just pointing it out!”

“Sure. Your ears are very red, by the way. You might want to do something about it before we enter your department.”

Yunho shook his head in amusement. “You… you’re really something, Aurora. Before we get in there, I’m offering you something- would you like to be a part of my team?”

You raised a brow. “Just like that?”

“I think I have figured you out enough to be able to make that decision,” he got serious. “Honestly, I almost did this a few days ago when you presented that framework. I found that it made things much easier. I think with your current findings… we’ll definitely have something.”

You considered for a moment, trying to figure out what the glint in his eyes meant. Was he actually impressed? Even if he was, which you supposed everyone was at this point, he definitely had some plans for you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to join his team or someone else’s in Strategy, but goodness, was he a breath of fresh air in this land that suffocated you to the core.

“Can I tell you my answer after we’re done for the day?” You asked and he nodded earnestly, motioning for you to follow him.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the department was the noise. There were people freaking out, to put it simply. Messages exchanged across the room, people rushing around with documents in their hands, superiors barking orders- a stark contrast to the comfortable silence of Cryptography. To reel you in from that mess, Yunho put a hand on your back to guide you across the hallway, leading you to the office upstairs.

“We’re meeting the supervisor. She’ll know what to do with you, and she might offer you something better as well. I know I would too, if I was her.”

“Well, that’s certainly relaxing,” you shivered and he grinned. “Let’s get it over with.”

With a knock, Yunho entered and bowed with you following suit. “This is Aurora from the Strategy Department.”

“Ah, the one you can’t shut up about?” The supervisor said- a very elegant middle-aged woman. You turned to Yunho who was yet again blushing from his ears. “I’m Dr. Angela Choi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” you said and took a seat.

“What do we have now?” Dr. Choi asked.

Yunho handed you whatever files he had and urged you to go ahead and explain. You straightened and knowing now was the time you needed to impress the Strategy Department, you fell into explaining the background of your approach first, briefing her about whatever progress you had made up until now.

“That’s certainly one way to look at it- more plausible than what we had so far,” Dr. Choi studied your framework. “I like this. Even if it doesn’t work, the approach you’re taking is fresh. Perhaps because you’re young?” She laughed.

“Come on, you’re not too old yourself,” Yunho laughed along and you could sense they were comfortable with each other. “Aurora, she’s… quick. Intelligent.”

“Yes, I think someone like her shouldn’t be hiding in Cryptography,” Dr. Choi seated back, looking relaxed. “Perhaps she should join our department. Maybe with the computer scientists? They’ve been trying endlessly to make their decryption devices more efficient. They just don’t have the right data to feed in. I’ll hand them this data- it could change the course of this war. You understand that, Aurora?”

“I do, but,” you looked around. “I expected this conversation to be more… tense.”

“I understand. I must seem very laid back, huh?” Dr. Choi smiled. “I haven’t sat in my office in ten days. I was occupied at the field, at the heart of all operations. Strategists have to be able to work well under pressure.”

“Not just the strategists…” you sighed. “It’s just very different here than in Mist Island.”

“Ah, yes, Mist Island. They were losing the war, weren’t they, until they joined us?” She asked and you nodded. “Those who have more to lose, they break under the idea itself. We have a lot to lose too, yes, but we’ve been winning this war for years now. It’s only a matter of time until it ends.”

You were genuinely impressed by her confidence, even though it disgusted you to the core how little they cared about the losing side. Dr. Choi continued. “We’ve created a somewhat relaxed and peaceful environment so our cryptographers, engineers, doctors and nurses don’t feel burdened. We give them deadlines, yes, but we, the strategists, take all of their burden. We don’t want anyone else to break under pressure or we’ll lose. So, how well can you handle pressure, Aurora?”

You looked at Yunho whose smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You wondered why. “I can handle it well, Doctor.”

“Very well. Consider my offer but if you want to stick to your current department, that’s alright too. Mr. Jeong, if you can escort her back?”

“Yes,” he got up and bowed and you followed him outside, navigating out of the hustle until you exited the department and Yunho exhaled like he could finally breathe.

“Care for a drink?”

“You must really want me to join your team,” you smiled and he shook his head in amusement.

“I’m just really thirsty, but I’m also wondering what’s on your mind.”

You accepted and he took you to the cafeteria, taking the window seats. You looked at him. “Halaland must have an ace up their sleeve. I’ve seen what the losing side looks like and this is far from it.”

“Perhaps,” Yunho’s tone was cryptic. “Isn’t it good to be on the winning side?”

“That’s debatable too, but that’s also the reason I’m here,” you told him. No lies there. “What does your team offer?”

“Field work. Assessing the situation and taking steps accordingly. Guiding the cryptographers and the other departments. We make the decisions that could save lives, but our decisions are not always in our favour. And most importantly, in war there’s sacrifice. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

You nodded, eager. You were so close to your destination now. “I like that, but tell me… do you always scout people like this?”

That took Yunho by surprise and he laughed and you couldn’t help but join. “You’re the first. I’ve never had to practically beg someone to join my team. Usually the higher-ups make that decision for me and I only decide if I want to keep them.”

“You might change your mind later,” you shrugged.

“I won’t know until I work with you though,” he sipped his coffee, scanning you. “So? Do you like Dr. Choi’s offer more?”

“I’ll join your team,” you said and watched how he relaxed a bit. “I don’t want to be holed up with the machines. That’s not my forte.”

“Do you mind me asking… who trained you before you came here?”

Your heart skipped a beat as the face of the Captain flashed behind your eyes. But you had another name to give- another mentor who was just like you, a spy who made his place here. “Dr. Kang who, I believe, is in the Medical Research Department here?”

Yunho raised a brow at that, surprised. “Dr. Kang trained you? He must have trained you for the Strategy Department then. Why begin with Cryptography?”

“He wasn’t sure I could handle it,” you placed your cup on the table. “And he might be right. We’ve all lost something in this war, haven’t we?”

Yunho unconsciously glanced at what was visible of the scar on your arm and you caught that, tugging your sleeve down which took him out of his trance. So he had noticed. He cleared his throat, meeting eyes with you.

“We all have,” his voice was thick with emotion and you could tell he had lost something- or someone important too. “Well, let’s hope you can show Dr. Kang that you can handle more than he thinks.”

“Do you know Dr. Kang personally?” You asked, actually curious. There was no way-

“Kang Yeosang, right?” Yunho was smiling. “He’s an old friend. He got me here.”

Your heart sank. Yunho was Kang Yeosang’s old friend? Was he also a spy then? But… there was no way you could confirm that. And if he was not a spy for Utopia…

That meant he was more dangerous than you had thought.

“Wow… what a coincidence,” you exhaled. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I met Dr. Kang. I hope I can see him soon.”

“He’s quite busy these days. Very hard to run into him now,” Yunho finished his coffee. “But tell you what- next time I have business in Medical Research, you may tag along.”

“Sure.”

“Is there a reason you aren’t mentioning that you have medical experience as well?” Yunho asked and you sighed internally- he really was testing you at every point. You wondered why. “I mean… I looked at your resume before making the decision to offer you a spot in my team. But you haven’t told me anything about your previous experiences at all.”

“Does it matter?” You asked. “Everyone in Mist Island was trained to gain some medical experience. I don’t like to go into the details, but the one who found me insisted it be mentioned.”

“Is there a reason behind that? You don’t have to tell me exactly what, I just want to know if you’re okay with medical field work if we’re required to do so in the future.”

“Yes, there is a reason why I don’t like mentioning it,” you told him. “Dr. Kang knows my history. If you trust him… you can trust me, can’t you?”

The way Yunho did not immediately agree told you he must know something- either about you or his old friend. You cleared your throat. “I’m okay with medical field work. I’m not the best but I can certainly assess the situation and act quickly.”

“That’s good enough,” Yunho grabbed his things from the table and you started getting up as well. “I won’t pressure you to do anything you do not want to, so when I offer you an assignment, you don’t have to worry about me firing you if you do not accept it because you’re uncomfortable. I only fire people who are-”

“A burden, a waste of resources, yes, I know the drill,” you finished for him and he grinned, walking with you outside.

“Well then. Pack your stuff, and I’ll see you tomorrow in Room no. 8 of the Strategy Department. Sleep well, Aurora.”

He was about to go but you grabbed his arm lightly and he paused, turning in surprise. “I haven’t thanked you for your kind offer.”

“Thank me later,” he winked and ran off, making you wonder just how you were supposed to thank him ‘later’.

—----------------------

Yunho was nothing like the person you had come to know in the past month when he was working. If you thought you knew him, you were so wrong.

You weren’t sure what surprised you more- the switch of character or the fact that you misjudged him. Perhaps because it was your first time interacting with someone outside of work first. Perhaps you should have expected it-

No. He was different.

He was a natural leader, you were finding. He was respected and possibly even feared by the fresh recruits- your fellows from Cryptography weren’t wrong about him. He took charge of the room, barked orders, maintained punctuality down to the seconds and wanted results. Quick. And anyone who couldn’t deliver was given an earful in private.

He told you he would cut you some slack only on your first day, like he did with everyone. You were no longer ‘Yunho’ and ‘Aurora’. He was ‘Sir’ and you were ‘Miss Han’ which put a strict distance between you. He did not joke around while working at all. You learned that he was right when he said he had to be on his toes, had to make important decisions and choose what to keep and what to sacrifice.

It had been over a week now- you had shifted your dorms, the current room giving you the view of your former workplace but blocking the sun, which you didn’t mind. It was a bit more luxurious too and gave you better room for optimisation, but you had nothing much here anyway.

The emptier the better.

Yunho was the leader of your team- Team no. 8. He reported to Dr. Choi who reported to the Head of the Department. The decision-making usually fell to the higher-ups and the team leaders, and the working dynamics were good. You wondered if that was the reason Halaland was winning.

You wondered how Utopia was handling things- you missed home. You missed the smell of citrus in the air, back before the smell of smoke and blood became a norm. You missed the constantly cloudy but blue sky before it took on an eternal darkness- you were beginning to hate the sun here.

You missed your family who were no longer here, gone together in the dead of night, leaving you forlorn in this world. You missed the new family you had found among the Crescents- even though they insisted attachment would do you no good, the Captain himself had been like a big brother to you. Perhaps because all of you had bonded over mutual loss that you found yourselves unable to not depend on each other, not find comfort in each other. They were home, no matter where you went after that.

You didn’t realise how long you had been standing at the end of the corridor where the dorms were, at the only window in the building that faced west towards Utopia, scratching at the scar on your arm until you felt gentle fingers lace through your hand and place them softly on the window sill.

Again, you were surprised for many reasons as you looked up at the man who was always there when you least expected him, whose footsteps were so silent yet presence so filling, whose gaze was so warm even when he put distance between you. He stood next to you, his hands right next to yours as he looked outside.

“I’m curious what part of this view exactly is so captivating that you’ve been standing motionless for so long,” he commented, peeking out with an unimpressed face. “All I see is barren land and a boring sky.”

“That’s exactly what I needed,” you said, glad your voice didn’t crack, glancing at what you had done- you never let the scar heal. You were always picking at the long gash somewhere. A reminder, you told yourself, though you didn’t need to hurt yourself to be reminded. It already hurt enough. “I didn’t want to be distracted by a pretty view.”

“Makes sense,” he turned towards you, glancing at the bleeding scar again. “Does that hurt?”

You didn’t expect him to inquire directly about the topic you both had danced around since you met. “Not really.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he tsk-ed. “Do you have a first-aid kit in your room?”

“No?”

“You should have,” he looked disappointed. “I’ll ask someone to give you one. If you’re going to the field, you should definitely have a kit with you at all times.”

“But I’m not… or am I?” You narrowed your eyes and he stifled a smile.

“I thought I’d ask you how your first week had been before offering you to join me,” he put his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. “Was it too much?”

“Not at all,” you glanced down again- it was starting to sting a little especially with the blood wanting to trail down-

“This won’t do,” Yunho sighed. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just… stop questioning me for once and come with me,” he said and you thought you heard the tiniest bit of frustration in his voice so you followed him to the other end of the hall and realised he might be taking you to the men’s dorm. He unlocked the door to his room and you immediately felt like you were being hugged by him- the clean, almost aquatic scent of whatever product he used filled the room.

It was nice.

Yunho motioned to the couch and you glanced around before taking a seat- it looked as empty as your room, the only sign of living some clothes hanging around or food in the kitchen from where Yunho got his kit and came to sit beside you.

“I can do this-”

“Let me,” he insisted, looking at you for permission and when you nodded, he took your arm and examined it, drawing your sleeve up hesitantly until it was above the elbow. He dipped some cotton in alcohol and cleaned it, the sting drawing your focus and when you winced, Yunho shook his head.

“You should stop picking at your scar if you want to work in the field,” he began, his voice low and thick now that he was so close. “It would be a shame if it got infected. I want my members in top condition, you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answered and he grinned.

“I told you, it’s just Yunho for you- when we’re not working,” he insisted and you nodded. “You can ask me now. I can see you have questions.”

“What exactly will we be doing?”

“I cannot tell you until we’re on the mission,” he finished cleaning. “But we might have to travel a bit and transfer confidential data.”

“I guess I’ll join? I have nothing better to do.”

“Ay, are you saying your time at the department is a waste?”

“I mean- yeah, I could keep working but this would be better-”

Yunho laughed, wrapping a bandage around your arm and you pouted when you realised he was back to being the goofy senior you had come to know in your duration here. “I know what you mean, you don’t have to explain yourself. You’ll learn a lot from the field but you should know that everything we see, everything we observe is strictly confidential. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do, and that’s why I am working here,” you told him and he liked your answer.

“There,” he tied the bandage. “I don’t want to see you picking at your scar again. If you feel like doing that again… come find me and I’ll distract you, okay?”

“Come find me,” you quoted back with a scoff, surprising him. “When you’re the busiest person I know? I thought you were friendly with me just to get me on your team, and then suddenly there’s this distance between us and you’re ‘Sir’ and I’m ‘Miss Han’ and you keep ordering me around and pushing me-”

You stopped when you saw how he was smiling, head resting on his hand, elbow propped on his leg. “What?”

“Carry on,” he urged. “I’m enjoying this.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, your heart suddenly aching at the sight of him- you were getting really annoyed at the way he made you ramble and had you expecting more when in fact, you should be anywhere but here-

“Just say that you missed me, Aurora.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “Thank you for the help. I’m going,” you said and got up but he grabbed your wrist, making you sit right back and you gaped at him as he failed to hold his smile, the smile that changed his entire face and made his eyes curve-

“Well, I definitely missed this,” he said but his eyes changed as he locked them with yours. “You can find me anytime you want. If it’s too much, if anything’s bothering you, you can find me, okay? I won’t let you down.”

You raised a brow. “Do you offer this to everyone?”

“Maybe? Some of it?” He wondered out loud, indicating he might not have offered this to anyone at all, for that matter. “My point is… I know we all have scars, Aurora. Not all are physical. The physical scars? They hurt more here, don’t they?” He pointed at his heart. “You’re… a part of my team now. I want your wits gathered. I want you relaxed because you’ve seen how tense the rest of my team is. I think I can depend on you if you can depend on me- and when we go on this mission, I’d be glad if I’m right about this.”

“Just say that you missed me too,” you laughed and he joined, realising he was still holding your wrist, letting it go gently. “Okay. I’ll try to find you next time.”

“Good,” he nodded, satisfied. “...good.”

You realised he was spacing out as his eyes travelled all across your face. You stared right back- at his kind eyes, at his incredibly charming face, at the way his hair fell on his forehead and when his eyes met yours, he held your stare for a moment too long before clearing his throat.

“Well, I’ll brief you tomorrow about the mission so you still have time if you want to change your mind. Think it over tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you finally got up, straightening your clothes. “Thank you… for everything.”

Yunho smiled at that and you left for your room, staring at the bandage until you fell asleep.

—---------------------

It was two days later that you found yourself on the road with Yunho, travelling in a military car escorted by soldiers. You two were the only ones facing each other in the backseats but Yunho was currently busy going through some documents and you recalled the conversation you just had with him in the office.

Your colleague Hani, who had field experience, had briefed you about the clauses in your contract- what to do in case you found yourself in a compromising situation or if your life was being threatened in exchange for information. You had a strict non-disclosure agreement already signed, but this was a fresh reminder that anything could go wrong.

And that your life had little to no value so you shouldn’t bother saving yourself by exchanging information. It was like this everywhere, but since it was the enemy you were now working for, you hated the idea of even getting a scratch for them, though the Captain had told you that you would be put in such a situation eventually. Today, you were going to play your part in a rehearsed skit. And today was all about your acting skills.

You touched the locket around your neck that Yunho had given you before leaving. He caught you tugging at it and you put it inside your uniform- all black with red details like Yunho’s. He cleared his throat. “Nervous?”

“A bit, but I’m fine,” you admitted. He was probably inquiring because the locket was your death sentence- a cyanide pill you could use only if all else failed. You recalled the moment when he had secured it around your neck himself and then put his hands on your shoulders, making you lock eyes with him.

“I’ll pray you never have to resort to a situation where you have to use this,” Yunho’s voice was firm. “If you’re in pain, you live through it. Think about your family, your friends, or whoever you’re fighting for. You make it back alive no matter how hard it is, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But,” and this time, his voice was steel and gaze so harsh that you wondered if this was the same person who told you he could ask the government to provide funds for your gummy bear addiction. “If you think of betraying your team and someone loses their life because of you? I’d rather you have eaten the pill.”

Your heart sank dangerously and you recalled when the Captain had held you just like this and told you what fate you would meet if you ever betrayed them. You nodded firmly, once. “Of course.”

Immediately, his gaze softened and he patted your arm as he let go. “I know how hard it is to make a decision, especially when they have something on you. But the enemy, no matter how appealing their offer is, you do not give in, okay? If the pain really is too much to handle… I wish you’d live through it instead of opting for this solution.”

“I understand,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “I really do.”

Now, in the car with Yunho who scanned your face as if trying to figure out just what was going through your head, you decided to ask him. “What if we lose each other in the middle of the mission?”

“Glad you asked,” he sighed. “I’ll show you the points where we can gather as soon as we’re entering the town.

And when you did, he sat next to you, pointing at 5 random points that were chosen for today’s mission. He told you their strategy was to always have new points to gather at during every mission so nobody could snitch on them. When you finally reached Sector 1, Yunho made sure your bulletproof vest was secured under your uniform and you had no bugs on you- ‘protocol’, he called it, though you made sure he saw you scowl. You stopped at an old hospital that was now abandoned and got off, the harsh sun making you flinch and immediately wear your shades.

“This hospital used to be the heart of this town, before a bomb struck here,” Yunho told you and you nodded- you recalled that. It was a few years ago when Neverland managed to strike here and you always wondered how someone could be heartless enough to target a hospital.

It made sense later- Neverland, now Utopia’s ally but earlier the enemy, probably also got a whiff of whatever the hell was going on with Halaland’s Medical Research Departments. Innocent lives were lost but you hoped at least something had come out of it.

“I always wondered why anyone would target hospitals,” Yunho said out loud as if he had read your mind.

You cleared your throat. “Halaland targeted hospitals first. I hope you haven’t forgotten your history… Sir.”

Yunho glanced at you, eyes unreadable behind the shades. “Of course I remember. That’s why I said ‘anyone’. What do you think? Why would someone target the hospitals?”

A test, perhaps. You pretended to think. “Doctors… They’re the backbone of any war, and perhaps the most precious asset especially in war.”

Yunho nodded, satisfied. “It’s a low move. I don’t support that, but like I said, sometimes when you strategise, sacrifices must be made.”

“And what came out of sacrificing doctors?”

“That’s not for just anyone to know,” Yunho pointed to the backdoor and you followed him.

“So am I ‘just anyone’?”

“As am I,” he sighed. “I’ve only heard something did come out of it, and something valuable was lost when this hospital was targeted. Pretty sure they weren’t talking about the doctors or the patients.”

You wondered if he really did not know or was pretending. You spotted a shadow behind the door and Yunho confirmed it was the man you were supposed to meet. He led you inside and the man met both your eyes before handing Yunho an envelope- the contents inside you referred to as ‘the key’. He turned to you and you handed him your key. With a nod, you parted ways and exited the hospital.

“That’s about it,” Yunho exhaled in relief. “A simple exchange of information. No words spoken. The information is not for our eyes nor can we interpret it. We’re only couriers.”

“So was that man a spy then?” You asked. “Do you receive information from other lands?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Yunho admitted and you believed him. “But I reckon he must be. You wouldn’t make such a fuss for a local.”

You started driving back, pretending to be relieved that the mission was over when in fact, you were counting the minutes.

And then it happened- you heard the sound of a gunshot and you flinched even when you saw it coming. The soldier escorting you spoke in the radio to make sure everything was clear, but-

“We have a tail, Sir- 2 SUVs. We’re waiting for your orders.”

You looked at Yunho who dared to peek outside before calling in his radio, “Turn west. We’re taking Route no. 3. Provide cover-”

Another gunshot and this time you had to cover your ears and crouch down out of instinct as the windshield shattered. Yunho’s eyes were wide with horror as he took in the sight of the shot driver, the soldier frantically trying to steer the car while putting one hand on the wound on the driver’s chest. You straightened and looked at Yunho.

“I can either drive or provide medical attention- or fight back. What do you want me to do, Sir?”

“How good is your aim?”

You let the faintest hint of a smirk grow on your lips. “Good enough, Sir.”

With that, you dragged the driver’s body to the backseat with the soldier’s help who immediately put pressure on the wound and checked the pulse. Yunho crawled to the driving seat and you borrowed the soldier’s rifle and examined the situation- one of your escort cars was down and you only had one at your front and on your right now.

So you waited until you sighted the tail- a black SUV. You aimed for the tires and shot once, twice, hitting the mark on your second shot which gave the escort car behind you a chance to shoot at the passengers. You broke the rest of the windshield with the butt of your rifle to clear your view, surprising Yunho, and sat on the frame to take another shot, managing to break their windshield this time. They fell back and the escort cars provided cover. The soldier honked and the three of your cars picked speed, the one behind you shooting aggressively. It seemed to have worked and you lost your tail, managing to follow the designated route.

You slid back to your seat, turning to check if you could assist in any way but it was too late- the soldier looked grim as he met eyes with you.

“He was gone within a minute.”

You bit your lips, wondering if you could have saved him had you not been selfish and hesitant about practising medical attention on people anymore. You glanced at Yunho who was clenching his jaw. With a sigh, you rested on the seat as you calmed yourself down from the adrenaline and braced yourself for whatever was about to happen next.

The drive was pretty much silent until you reached the Research Centre, a medical team ready to take the people who lost their lives in the mission. You learned that two other soldiers had died. After paying your respects, you escorted Yunho to your department where the supervisor, Dr. Choi was waiting.

“I heard it went well,” she said and you raised a brow, glancing at Yunho who appeared tense.

“We lost three soldiers today.”

“But you have the key?” She asked, referring to what you had received from the supposed-spy.

Yunho didn’t say anything, just handed the key to the doctor and she didn’t open it. She looked at you. “Report.”

You swallowed. “We had no tail until after we left the hospital. About 800 metres on Route no.1, we received the tip from Escort Car no. 3 about the tail. As soon as Mr. Jeong ordered us to embark on Route no. 3, our driver was shot and we had to improvise. The soldier with us went on to provide medical attention to him while Mr. Jeong drove and I attacked. I managed to puncture their tire and shoot through their windshield which Escort Car no. 2 informed us, helped eliminate one of the 5 passengers in the black SUV without a plate. That’s when we lost them and continued our return.”

“I see. Anything you’d like to add to that, Mr. Jeong?”

“I’ll let you make the conclusion,” Yunho answered, looking like he could kill her. “I don’t know if it’s my position to say this but maybe you should take a look at who’s friend and who’s foe again. No one other than me knew our meeting point. Me and the person we were meeting.”

Dr. Choi shifted in her seat, looking amused. “You’re telling me that I should look into that person and you?”

Yunho shrugged. “I think you know exactly what I meant.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek as you looked back and forth between them. They were practically having a stare down and Dr. Choi finally nodded slowly. Yunho said he would take his leave now, leaving you alone with the supervisor who simply smiled.

“He gets like this when a mission doesn’t go smoothly.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly. So it had happened before. “Anything I should do, Dr. Choi?”

“Let’s see,” Dr. Choi opened the envelope and skimmed through the contents. “Not for now, no. You can take the rest of the day off. You did well.”

—-----------------------

Though your mission today had gone exactly the way you had wanted to- a successful exchange of information followed by an attack, staged by the Crescents just so you could prove you were indeed someone who could be trusted- a test, you realised now, from the Crescents as well- you still felt unsatisfied for a number of reasons.

Firstly, you had not expected the driver of your own car to get shot. You could very well have been hurt as well. You still felt guilty about not caring enough to provide medical assistance- the soldier, you were sure, only knew the basics. You could have saved him. You felt partially responsible for that loss.

You were also worried about just who in Crescents lost their lives in the mission today. You prayed it was no one you knew, but the thought that they were risking their lives like this upset you even when you had seen them go to more dangerous missions and not return. Now that you were a part of this, it stung more.

And then there was Yunho. His reaction to the dead soldier didn’t surprise you- you knew now that he was a compassionate soul no matter how stern and cold he might seem at times. But it was his behaviour with Dr. Choi that surprised you more- was it her nonchalance towards the lives lost that put him off or was it something else?

You had roamed around after getting the day off when it was already almost time for dinner. You met your teammates from Cryptography and checked their progress and they had a good laugh over how far you had come and if you’d last any longer. However, when you headed to your room, you spotted Yunho standing by the window you had met a few days earlier. Your heart tugged at the sight and you considered ignoring him and heading to your room but you wanted to know what was going through his mind right now.

You wanted to figure him out so bad that it was driving you a little crazy, and that was not good. Not in this field.

Cautiously, you walked to him and though he sensed you coming, he didn’t move until you stood next to him, hands on the sill right beside his, so near they could touch. You looked at the view.

“Not a very captivating view, is it?”

A trace of a smile danced on his lips though he maintained his composure. You stifled a sigh and dared to look at him- he looked so very tired and you wondered if he was exhausted due to the events of today or just tired of wearing his mask. Whatever it was, this was the first time you saw such emotions in his eyes.

“I know you offered to me that I could come find you whenever I felt like picking at my scar again,” you began, ignoring your subconscious that sounded a lot like the Captain cursing at you. “I thought I’d offer you the same. I should have offered it that day, but…”

“Thank you, Miss Han, but-”

“That’s Aurora for you-”

“-I’m not picking at my scars-”

“Scars of the heart,” you reminded him before he could tell you to bug off. He looked at you, hair a mess and over his eyes, still in his uniform with quite a few buttons undone and wondering just what your deal was. You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Have you had dinner yet?”

When he didn’t respond, you tsk-ed. “Do you want to have some ramen? I’ve heard I make killer ramen.”

Yunho finally gave in and scoffed, urging you to lead the way, following you to your room and you almost shut the door behind you when you realised he was still waiting outside.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I thought you were going to take the ramen or whatever to the dining hall?”

“Just… come in. I have better snacks,” you told him.

He shook his head. “Of course you do.”

You asked him to make himself comfortable while you went into the kitchen and started cooking. Yunho took that as a sign to roam around in your space- empty walls just like his, the only sign of life the clothes on one chair-

And the unholy amount of the unhealthiest snacks he had ever seen lining the kitchen shelves. He sat on the two-seater table next to the kitchen, watching you cook. “Do you even eat normal food?”

You glared at him, not bothering to respond, focusing on the ramen while he rested his chin on his hand as he watched you until you settled down, scooping some ramen for him and cracking open two beers. You clicked your drinks and ate in silence. He was probably still sorting his thoughts, you reckoned.

It wasn’t until he was finished, drinking his second can of beer that he finally exhaled deeply. You didn’t push, just relaxed back as you swirled your can lazily.

“Thank you for the meal, Aurora. It’s very kind of you.”

“You sound way too formal, Yunho,” you sighed.

“And you sound like me, I’m realising,” he put his head in his hands as he laughed a little. “I must have sounded like this that day, huh?”

“Now you know,” you teased.

He sighed again. “I don’t know what went wrong today. It’s happened before and I’m not even surprised,” he admitted and you nodded. “I’m just… I should have known that no one would give two shits about the lives lost today. All they care about is getting their hands on whatever information can cause the most destruction.”

“‘In war there is sacrifice’,” you quoted him and he lifted his head to look at you.

“I know. But I’m human too.”

“I understand,” you said and he wasn’t surprised at your grim tone.

There were a few moments of silence as you both sorted your thoughts out. “It’s not your fault, about the driver. You couldn’t have saved him even if you wanted to- not with that wound.”

You looked at him- how could he know just what you were feeling when he himself was a mess?

“Neither was it your fault about the events of today,” you countered. “We’re simply couriers. It’s the higher-ups who gave us the orders, knowing the risks. They should feel responsible about the loss.”

“They never do,” Yunho clenched his eyes shut as if a memory pained him. You let him have a moment and he opened his eyes, locking them with yours.

“Listen, Aurora. What happened today should not have happened, but this was your first mission. I’m proud of how you handled it.”

Your heart sank in guilt but you nodded. “Thank you.”

“I do want to keep you as my teammate, but… it’s only getting uglier as the days pass. The higher-ups have stopped caring about the lives lost as long as they get what they want. If you do not want to do this at any point, you let me know, okay? I don’t want to take you to a mission and risk losing you because you didn’t have a clear head.”

“Why can’t you do the same?” You dared to ask and he looked confused. “You could stop going to these missions too. Clearly this has happened before, and you look distraught. You could hang back too, Yunho-”

“I can’t-”

“I’m sure there are other teams that could go-”

“I really can’t,” Yunho locked eyes with you and you paused.

He can’t?

“Why?” You asked and when he remained silent, you knew then.

You knew that he was bound. Just like you, or maybe worse. You were bound to the Crescents and even though they had good intentions, they had promised you hell if you backed off anytime during your stay here. But what was holding Yunho back?

“Then don’t bury it in,” you countered. “I don’t want to go on another mission with you if you don't have a clear head.”

“Look at you ordering me around, Aurora.”

You matched his glare and he ended up looking down, his smile widening. You shared a chuckle as well. “I’m just looking out for myself, Sir.”

“There you go,” he scoffed in amusement. You stared at him for a few moments before you got up and started clearing the table, coming back to pick the cans but Yunho caught your wrist, folding your sleeve up to examine your scar that was still healing from all the scratching you had done before Yunho had bandaged it for you two days ago.

“This better be healed by the end of the week,” he muttered, tracing the skin near the scar from the elbow all the way down.

“This will heal on its own,” you said. “But how do we heal the scars of our heart, Yunho?”

“I wouldn’t know that,” he barely whispered and it was the most broken you had heard him, or anyone, sound. Your heart ached deeply and with your free, now trembling hand, you touched the side of his face lightly as if to tell him that you didn’t either. That you understood it all too well. He kept staring up at you, his grip on your wrist loosening and you brought that hand up as well as you held his face, taking your time as you caressed the strands of his hair away from his face. You were positive your loud heart could be heard for miles but you didn’t care, not at that moment.

When you were done shifting some of his hair away from his forehead, you leaned down and kissed his forehead, the first time you had kissed someone in years, the first kiss of affection after the tragic event that took your family’s life. Yunho sighed deeply and when you drew back, you rested your forehead on the top of his head for a moment.

“I know something is eating you up and making you do things you do not want to, but,” you drew back, locking eyes with him. “I want you to know that I’m with you, beside you, wherever you go from here. You’re not alone, Yunho. Don’t lose yourself. You can get through this and I’m here for you whenever you need me, understand?”

There was wonder in his eyes. Wonder and an incredible sadness. He nodded slowly and you smiled slightly, patting his cheek before turning away and picking the cans up, going to throw them in the trash can. Yunho got up, straightening his clothes.

“I- I should get back now.”

You raised a brow at the stutter and noticed his flushed cheeks and ears. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Yunho nodded, unmoving for a good few moments before he awkwardly turned to go and almost reached the door when he turned again.

“I might be asking too much but can I have a pack of your gummy bears? I feel like I’ll need them tonight.”

The laugh that left you came from somewhere so deeply buried that even Yunho couldn’t help but join, smiling widely at the sound that filled the room. You nodded and brought him a packet, still recovering.

“You can stop now, you know,” he said, embarrassed.

“I just,” you sighed, chuckling again. “It was so out of the blue, it caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry, Aurora,” he countered and you laughed a bit harder, putting a hand over your mouth as you waved at him to leave already. He thanked you before leaving, saying he wouldn’t want a madman on his team and you went to your room, your laugh fading with each passing moment until it turned into an unknown feeling so overwhelming that you sat down on the floor, burying your head between your arms and crying silent tears.

—-----------------------

Something between you and Yunho had shifted ever since that night.

You were still Mr. Jeong and Miss Han during work hours, and he was still the same strict boss of your team, however, he had a hint of affection in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Maybe it was from the shared experience from that mission. Maybe it was the way you now knew you had secrets that you kept from each other, only allowing the other to know there was, in fact, something. Maybe it was something about that night when you shared a moment of vulnerability.

You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it was messing you up and that was not good. You remind yourself every night that you are a Crescent. You answer to the Captain. You’re on a mission, and your goal is to uncover what’s going on in the Medical Research Department through any means necessary.

Involving yourself with Yunho is only a risk, and yet… you couldn’t help but be selfish. You could justify it as a means to get to Medical Research as much as you wanted, but you knew deep down that there was another factor and you could not dismiss it. It didn’t matter, you supposed, as long as nothing was done about it, but Yunho’s words rang in your ears:

“But I’m human too.”

Those words tangled around you like a spider’s web that you couldn’t shake off. They haunted you at night when you tried to sleep. And they were following you like a shadow right now, on your way to meet Seonghwa in the darkest hour of the night, this time in the Cryptography Department’s cafeteria where you could always come up with the excuse of ‘missing the food’ if someone spotted you.

You sat at the far end of the room, waiting for Seonghwa to come as you opened a pack of gummy bears, already plagued by the memory of Yunho- you seemed to be associating a lot with him these days. Seonghwa entered, silent as a pin and settled across from you.

“I hope you’ve been doing well,” he asked.

“Thriving, really,” you muttered and he raised a brow at that attitude. You cleared your throat.

“All well at home?” You dared to ask.

“Seems so,” he was chewing gum rather loudly. “All well at yours?”

“Seems so.”

“How long till you can get to your goal?”

“If you don’t push some strings, maybe a while,” you thought out loud.

“We don’t have the luxury of time anymore, Aurora.”

You paused. Something had happened. “Then push some strings.”

He glared at you for a few moments before sighing. “Prepare yourself. You’ll be meeting your mentor soon.”

“Got it,” you got up, ready to leave.

“And Aurora?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your distance from the enemy, will you?”

For a moment, you wanted to scratch at his face and ask him who, exactly, was the enemy here. It was the same in Utopia, the same here- the higher-ups not caring for the lives lost as long as they could get something out of it. And what were they doing to contribute to the war other than add more fuel to the flame? You were starting to question who exactly you were working for. Of course, you were ultimately doing this for Utopia, but you wanted to gut the people who sent you here too. Not the Captain, no- he only trained you. The ones who controlled him, and the ones who controlled them.

The Captain- he only dared to question them once, and you remember seeing him at his lowest then when they took away something precious from him. You didn’t know what- you didn’t need to either. You could see it- everyone could. And it was the same here, with Yunho. He was just a puppet in this horrible, horrible game.

“I am,” you practically spat, knowing he must have spotted you hanging around with Yunho casually. “And you remember who the enemy is, will you?”

With that, you left the department, feeling like you were being choked and when you entered your department you paused-

Was someone following you?

You turned but there wasn’t a soul in sight. You didn’t dismiss it as just a feeling though. You could never be too careful around here.

Someone had seen you come from the Cryptography Department, which meant you were being watched. You scoffed to yourself as you went inside your room and resisted the urge to peek out of your window.

No more meetings with Seonghwa. You were on your own now.

—-------------------------

Things were getting tense at the department, to put it simply.

You were starting to wonder if it was simply because of the information you and Yunho had received that day which was somehow important enough to shift the power balance of the war, or if it was because Yunho had dared to question the higher-ups on their lack of regard for the sacrifices in this war.

You were positive it was the latter- especially with the way Yunho was starting to look so weary. Your seniors were also being harsher on your team, going as far as to cut down on your break hours. Yunho kept looking apologetic which made your suspicions stronger. Nothing seemed to cheer him up anymore.

You were staring at him from across the room, ignoring the pile of documents in front of you as you binged on your usual choice of snack, wondering if you should go ahead and ask just what was going on when a knock sounded and Dr. Choi entered, looking grim.

“Prepare for a group mission- we have to retrieve a person now, so make sure you gear up properly- 2 of you on the field while 3 of you stay back and monitor.”

Yunho looked as confused as the rest and when he got up to ask, Dr. Choi raised her hand. “I just got notified moments ago. Apparently they’re not pleased with what happened on your last mission, though I hardly believe that’s the reason. Just… get it over with and then we’ll speak.”

“Not pleased with what happened on our last mission,” Yunho repeated with a scoff. “All we did was follow orders and stick to protocol.”

You could see the slightest hint of pity in the doctor’s eyes before she sighed. “I know. I’m only obeying orders here too. You’ll be briefed on your way there. You have 20 minutes.”

With that, Dr. Choi exited and Yunho met your eyes. You pursed your lips, shrugging. It seemed like you had no choice. Stuffing the unfinished gummy bears in your pocket, you stood and went to him.

“You and me on the field. Who else are we taking?”

Yunho hesitated for a moment. “I’d rather you stick back as the monitor this time.”

You slumped, bored. “You know I can fight, Sir. Come on, make a decision.”

“I-” he hesitated again and your heart ached as he looked down. You wished you could ask him what the matter was. “I don’t want to see any of you get hurt if things go south.”

“Dr. Choi said two on the field, Yunho, in case you were thinking of going alone this time.”

Yunho raised a brow at the way you called his name and how you knew exactly what he was thinking. He gave in, nodding. “Fine, but you only cover me, okay? No offence.”

“Can’t promise, but okay,” you shrugged and he shook his head, getting up and calling Hani, Jongho and Chris- his most skilled. “You remember the drill, right?”

“Definitely,” Jongho grinned and Yunho seemed to relax a bit after seeing his teammates in better spirits than himself. He set the timer and all of you disappeared in the locker room, getting dressed in the uniform with bulletproof vests underneath. You checked your guns and were about to leave when a knock sounded on the door. You opened it expecting Hani but were surprised to see Yunho instead.

“Done?” He asked and you nodded. “Can I come inside?”

Your heart sank and you gave him some space to enter in the relatively tiny room. Yunho wasted no time, digging into his pocket and producing a bunch of bullets and placing them in your palm. “This could get me fired or worse, but I need you to take these in case things don’t look good. Hide them on yourself.”

You raised a brow, counting them- 5. “This isn’t official,” you said and he nodded. “And what makes you think I won’t snitch right now?”

The way Yunho simply smiled- almost smirked- told you that there was a reason he needed you on his team. “You can go ahead and do that if you want to.”

Something unspoken passed between you two as you stared at each other and you finally hid the bullets in your inside pocket, making him roll his eyes in amusement before he left. For extra measure, you stocked more on the daggers before following him outside.

You learned on your way that one of the doctors from Medical Research had gone missing a few days ago and was reported to have been sighted in the west in a cabin near the enemy lines. You suspected it was the Crescents again, and to confirm your suspicions you spotted Seonghwa on your way out who saluted mockingly when he met your eyes. You had not expected it to be this soon after your previous mission and you wondered if something had truly gone wrong this time.

During the half an hour drive after which you were to travel on foot, Hani set up the radios and Jongho and Chris prepared to defend the rest in case they were attacked. This time, there were no escorts, no military cars, no soldiers- nothing that would alert the enemy. After reaching the end of the road, you and Yunho stepped out and Hani checked your equipment once again.

“If I lose your signal, I’ll assume you’re in trouble and wait exactly 2 minutes before I send one of them to inspect,” Hani said and Yunho nodded in approval. “If you lose our signal, you should proceed with the mission and come back when you’re done- if we’re under attack, you’ll know- I’ll fire a signal. In that case…”

“In that case, we’ll abort the mission,” Yunho said and Hani shook her head.

“Dr. Choi specifically asked us to retrieve the doctor at all costs. You do know what they mean by that, don’t you?”

“I don’t care what she said,” Yunho countered. “I don’t think we can make it back if you all are under attack anyway.”

Hani pursed her lips, looking at you for help. “Knock some sense into him, will you, Aurora?”

You shrugged. “If you’re under attack, I can come and help. You, Sir, can carry on with your mission- or we could switch these roles.”

Yunho sighed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m the one being reminded of protocol.”

Hani grinned. “We all have our times, Yunho. Now get your ass on the field, both of you. I’m starting the clock.”

You whistled at the friendly banter. Yunho checked on his weapons one last time before motioning for you to follow him and you took a moment to run your eyes over the expanse- all dead trees and barren ground. If you squinted, you could see the faint silhouette of the marked border between Utopia and Halaland, with armed officials prowling in the area.

“Aurora?”

Home. So near yet so far away.

“You coming?” Yunho asked and you realised you were still staring in the direction of your homeland. You jogged to him, matching his pace when you fell in step with him, peeking at the map in his hands.

“Are you sure you have a clear head right now, Aurora?” Yunho asked.

“Yeah, sure, I was just… admiring the scenery.”

“Admiring the scenery?” Yunho scoffed, craning his neck to see just what about the scenery was so interesting.

“I was wondering,” you changed the topic. “Why send us to the field to retrieve a doctor? Why not the soldiers?”

“Aren’t we all soldiers, fighting for something?” Yunho mused and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay, they usually don’t send the soldiers so the other departments don’t get a whiff of what’s going on in Medical Research.”

“What exactly is going on there?” You asked, finding Yunho with a strange, knowing expression on his face. You gulped. “I’m assuming you know if they sent you?”

“I don’t know either,” he sighed deeply. “I just know there is something. I’ve heard it could help with winning the war. Only the higher-ups know. I’m nobody.”

“Well… that certainly sounds suspicious, but then again, there’s always some secret in every department, I suppose,” you let out a short laugh and he agreed. “So they’re afraid the doctor might snitch? Will they even let him live if we manage to get him back?”

“That is… a very good question. We might be taking him to death’s door if we retrieve him,” he clicked disappointingly. “But we don’t know anything, so we can’t assume and make these decisions. I think the Strategy Department, us, we’re trusted enough to retrieve him. We have the skills, and who would we snitch to anyway? Pretty sure they’d know if there was a spy among us.”

You shrugged and Yunho pointed in the distance, spotting a couple of cabins bordering the town. “That’s our destination. You ready?”

You nodded and walked in silence the rest of the way. When you reached the first cabin, you were about to go around the structure to inspect when Yunho grabbed your wrist.

“You’re only covering, remember?”

“That’s not how this works-”

“That’s an order,” he insisted, looking slightly amused that only confused you further and you rolled your eyes, snatching your wrist away with a pout that he chuckled at before taking the lead.

With guns out, you went around the first cabin and then inside, finding no signs of life. The second cabin was just as empty and you were inside it now, watching the third from the window when you spotted movement.

“Uh, Sir?” You called and he turned around. “I’m spotting movement in that cabin.”

Yunho urged you to follow him, asking you to go around and stand by the window so the target couldn’t escape- if it was indeed the target. You signalled your team about the cabin. Yunho motioned at you that he was going inside and you provided cover as he unlocked the door-

“No-”

You turned at the strangle of a voice that left Yunho who ran towards the man- the target- who had just swallowed something you were assuming must be a pill, and before you could help them or react, you spotted someone else in the next room and pointed your gun at them.

“Drop your weapons, right now-”

You paused when recognition flashed across the man’s face and your heart sank dangerously. Before you could signal one or the other, the man moved his aim from you to Yunho and prepared to shoot.

Maybe it was instinct or something else that possessed you to take the bullet for Yunho, you mused, as you wondered why the person you had once called friend and had trained with- spared you. Out of familiarity? Out of regard?

Burning pain overwhelmed every other sense in your body as the bullet lodged into your arm and Yunho was quick to shoot at the man, missing by an inch but probably grazing his leg given how he seethed before hiding. You clenched your eyes shut and opened them, forcing the cloud of pain away. “Save the target, I got him-”

“No, you’re hurt-”

“I said, save the target.”

Yunho frowned at your tone and you didn’t give him another option as you loaded your gun and started for the room the man had hid himself in- he was at a dead end- this room had no window or other means of exit. You spotted him standing in the corner, gun aimed at you.

“It’s been years-”

You shot at his leg before he could speak further, earning a howl from him. One glance at Yunho to confirm that you got this, you moved towards the man and pressed the muzzle against his forehead.

“What are you doing here? What did you do to the doctor?”

“I was saving him,” he spat on your boot and you clenched your jaw. “You know that.”

You glanced behind and got closer. “Did the Captain send you?”

The man scoffed. “And what if he did? Why are you here?”

“He got me here, in case you forgot,” you seethed. “And he got you in this mess. Remember that.”

“What are you gonna do, huh? Kill your old-”

You heard the familiar footsteps of Yunho and with your eyes closed shut as if that could undo everything you were about to do, you shot your old friend, his body going limp and falling with a thud against the wall. You finally opened your eyes, bending down to shut his eyes with trembling hands.

The footsteps grew closer and you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You didn’t care at that moment. You turned to him and said, “Call the team, please. I’ll stay here.”

Yunho nodded, giving you space and leaving the room. With glazed eyes, you placed a hand on your old friend’s cheek, noticing a silver glint around his neck and you dug out what was a necklace with his code name carved on it- KB. You smiled at that, recalling when he had showed you the necklace a few years ago, very proud of it. You searched his pockets but found nothing significant so you just slumped next to him, ignoring the pain in your arm until Yunho came again, having alerted the team.

With his dagger, he cut a piece of his shirt and tied it around your arm where you were still bleeding out. You only stared into the distance, your ears ringing with the sound of the gunshots. When he was done, he patted your arm again.

“Come on, they’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you got up and exited the room, noticing the doctor with foam around his mouth. “Cyanide pill?”

“Seems so,” he said. “I’ll tell you the details later, okay? You should get treated first.”

“Just tell me this was not a waste,” you turned to him, lips quivering. “Tell me all of this was not a waste.”

Pain flashed across his eyes but he nodded. “It was not, trust me. I cannot tell you right now,” he glanced behind him at his team approaching them and you understood. “But I have something. And it’s not for the higher-ups to hear. You understand?”

Somehow, the cloud of pain cleared then. You understood. You looked back at the doctor. “Mind if I check something?”

“Go ahead,” he said and you checked his neck for something similar to a chain. Yunho coughed and you looked at him- he patted his pocket in answer. You nodded and proceeded to check the room, taking anything you thought would prove significant while Jongho and Chris packed the bodies and loaded them in the car- protocol. Proof that you were not lying, though you were pretty sure one of them directly answered the higher-ups and it was not Yunho, which meant-

You almost ran outside and looked into the distance, running your eyes across the expanse and it was then you spotted the tiniest movement in the cabin in front of you.

Eyes. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Both the Crescents and Halaland’s own spies. The question though, was…

Just who had watched everything that had just happened?

—------------------------

You had a few scenarios of how you could get into the Medical Department- either infiltrate with your ‘spy skills’ and risk getting caught, or have Seonghwa pull some strings so you could go for something like an ‘inspection’, or the personal favourite- attack.

However, you never thought you’d get access simply because you got shot during a mission.

It was surprising because every department did have their own little emergency room with the basic first aid stuff. It was probably because you had to report, and what place better to report the death of the doctor than the very department he worked in?

“Let her get treated first,” Yunho insisted, “And then we’ll report.”

“We don’t have time to spare, Mr… Jeong, is it?” The middle-aged man with an arrogant look that had to be his staple shrugged. “Besides, it looks like a simple gunshot wound.”

You could feel that Yunho was mentally and physically reaching his limit as he tried to reason with who you recognised was the supervisor of the Medical Research Department- both the restricted and the secret one, the restricted being his cover for the public. You cleared your throat, wanting to get this over with. “I think we can report first- I can hold on for a while-”

“No,” Yunho said with a tone of finality and glared at you first before glaring at the supervisor. “My partner will be treated first and foremost. You, of all people, Dr. Kim, should understand that.”

Dr. Kim groaned before ordering the staff to escort you to the treatment room. You got stitched up after being administered painkillers and you had to stuff a few gummy bears in your mouth for the instant sugar rush or else you were positive you would have fainted. You were just being administered another IV when you heard a very familiar voice.

“I got this from here, thank you.”

You watched the nurses leave and a familiar blonde come closer, checking on your IV. You almost gasped and he stifled his smile as he checked your vitals.

“Not how I expected to see you but oh well,” he whispered and you grinned.

“Not how I planned to get here either,” you said. “It’s so good to see you, Yeosang.”

“Likewise, Aurora,” he smiled before glancing around. “Tell me what happened.”

You briefed him as quickly as you could, handing him the necklace that belonged to KB. He nodded grimly and when you told him about spotting someone who must have been watching you, he nodded in confirmation.

“It’s been a while since Yunho fell out of their good graces. I bet they’re making sure he doesn’t make more mistakes.”

“What did he do?” You asked.

“He tried digging into the secrets of the Research Department after the Utopians were expelled from this centre,” he revealed and you were genuinely impressed and confused. “He had many Utopian friends and some of them disappeared without a trace.”

“Are they messing him up on purpose?” You dared to ask. “First the attack on our previous mission, and now this…”

“That’s not how they mess you up,” Yeosang tsk-ed. “That’s just misfortune. Anyways, your report better match Yunho’s or you’ll be the one who might become their target. And Aurora?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe. Remember your motive. Don’t trust the enemy. And… we don’t have much time. You barely have a week before we sign Utopia for a loss it will never recover from.”

Your heart sank yet again and you nodded furiously, understanding the gravity of the situation now that you heard it from someone who worked in the secret lab himself. He was about to leave when you called him and mouthed ‘stay safe’.

Thankfully, Yunho gave his report in front of your team and all you had to do was follow up with your story, omitting the part where you knew the identity of the man you killed. After signing a few documents, you were allowed to leave and Yunho said he had someone to meet, asking Hani to make sure you go right to your room and rest.

Hani did just that, going as far as to help you take off your clothes so you could wash up while she cooked you some ramen, commenting on the lack of your healthy food choices. You smiled- she was such a mother not just to you but to everyone in your team. She did leave when dinner was ready and you had time to sort your thoughts out, enough time to recall what happened today.

You took a bullet for the enemy.

Could you call Yunho ‘the enemy’? Yunho, the person who cared with all his heart, the person who did serve the enemy, the one who would have taken a bullet for you too just because that is who he was. And Yeosang’s revelations had only confused you further about him- you should have just asked him if Yunho was the enemy.

But perhaps, he was just as confused as you were. Yunho had dared to dig into something so big. What stopped him? You understood that he was brilliant and after losing so many skilled Utopians, they couldn’t afford losing their own. But… what, exactly, made him stop? What did they have over him that was eating him alive because he could do nothing about it? The fact that these unsuccessful missions were simply misfortune (though one was staged) meant that they had something else over Yunho.

What could it be? A secret? Blackmail? Family?

You shut your eyes as you tried recalling his file that you had memorised, just like every other file on the employees of this department-

A knock sounded and you opened your eyes, wondering if your ears were still ringing. But when another knock sounded, this time louder, you got up and hesitantly opened the door-

To reveal Yunho.

“You look like a mess… Sir,” you scanned him- messy hair, buttons undone, uniform torn from where he had cut it earlier for you, smudges of dirt and possibly blood on his exposed skin. “What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to make sure Hani didn’t kill you on her way here,” he scoffed. “Can I… come in?”

You nodded and he stepped in, awkwardly glancing around and you urged him to take a seat. You offered him dinner but he refused and you wondered if you could insist but handed him a chocolate bar instead and he accepted it, asking you just what happened during the mission.

“I found these,” you put your hand under the sofa and extracted a few pages. “Not sure what they mean but they might make sense to you.”

Yunho finished eating and examined the papers. “Medical terms I’m not quite familiar with. What do you reckon they say?”

“I don’t know, all these terms seem foreign to me,” you admitted- it wasn’t the entire truth. “You have someone who could translate it for us?”

“I’ll think about it. Shall I take these then?”

“Go ahead,” you said and he folded them neatly before putting them in his pocket. “Did the doctor say something before he… died?”

Yunho sighed deeply, rubbing his face. “I asked him why he gave up on his life at the sight of me. It’s my uniform- he recognised it. He only said that he did not want to go back and that he would prefer death.”

“‘Prefer death’,” you repeated. “That’s… something must have happened?”

“Yeah, I don’t know anymore,” Yunho slumped back. “I’m not sure I can investigate either.”

“Why?” You dared ask.

Yunho looked at you. “Do you have something to lose, Aurora?” You shook your head and he smiled. “Then you are very lucky.”

“What will you lose?” Your voice was almost a whisper and he looked down.

“Four years ago when we declared war on Utopia,” he began, “I lost a lot of friends. Some moved. Some went missing. When I tried tracing them, I always found myself at the Medical Research Department. I asked myself- why would someone missing be there when they didn’t have any relationship with the Medical Department whatsoever?”

“Oh, goodness,” you sighed and he nodded.

“I still don’t know why exactly- what exactly is going down there. I don’t know who to trust. When they realised I was digging in, they drafted my brother into the army so they could hold that over me. And after the previous mission, they threatened to place him within the enemy lines, where the war and the bloodshed is the thickest. I suppose they’ll do that now.”

“That’s… inhumane,” you breathed. No matter if Yunho was the enemy, that was still inhumane- to hold family against you. “They’re controlling you.”

“They’re controlling everyone here,” Yunho scoffed. “You cannot trust anyone.”

You raised a brow and he looked at you as if having realised just what he said. He locked eyes with you until you asked the inevitable.

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know, Aurora,” his voice was low and he shifted towards you. “You clearly have secrets you keep to yourself. I don’t know why I’m here- maybe I’ve doomed myself tonight.”

His eyes were expectant and they tugged at your heart with their warmth and vulnerability and… trust. Trust without knowing who exactly you were.

And you realised how deeply done you were for him when you found yourself saying, “I trust you. With all of my heart.”

Yunho blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stomach in knots, you leaned forward a bit as you locked eyes with him. “I trust your judgement. I trust your motives, and I wish I could share your burden because I do not like to see you like this. I wish I could be your strength… if you’d allow me to. And I have nothing to lose anyway. I could do this for you-”

Perhaps you had signed yourself for your doom, you wondered, as Yunho grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, bringing you in for a kiss so urgent as if you were on stolen time. Stomach in pleasurable knots, you leaned forward into the kiss, running your hands through his hair and pushing them away as you kissed him better, tasting the longing and pain in the way his hands cupped your face so delicately, in the way they later traced the outlines of your body-

And made you hiss in pain when they accidentally touched the bandaged spot on your arm. Yunho immediately drew back with concern on his face and you laughed a little when he examined it.

“I’m okay, just… it took me more by surprise, I guess.”

Yunho licked his lips, eyes falling to yours as he caught his breath. He forced himself to look at you. “You shouldn’t have taken the bullet for me, Aurora. Do you know how much it pains me?”

“I know you would have done the same,” you said and he looked away as if he did not want to believe that. “I’m fine. I know what I was doing.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” you cupped his face this time, caressing it lovingly- you couldn’t bear the look in his eyes. “I would do that for you again,” you pecked his lips. “And again,” you kissed his cheek, trailing your lips up the side to plant another kiss on his temple. “And again,” you joined your forehead with his, his large hands going to hold your waist, making you feel so very safe as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, out of breath. You let him have his moment, caressing his head.

“What are we going to do, Aurora?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you kissed his head and he looked up at you. “I’ll make sure those bastards pay for what they did to you, you hear me? That’s a promise, Yunho. And I keep my promises.”

You sealed that promise with a kiss, so slow and sensual this time that it had you both wanting more. You unbuttoned Yunho’s uniform and tossed it on the floor, leaving him in a half-sleeve fitted shirt- oh, how beautiful he was. You traced his shoulders down to his arms and he snaked his hands up your waist, the sensation of his cold hands over your bare skin making you squirm a little which made him laugh, and then he was pulling you in for another kiss, this time as heated as it could be, tongues colliding and bodies rocking against each other in a rhythm that made you one.

You kissed each other for the longest time, affirmations and promises exchanged and then you lay in his arms, tired. You traced the multiple scars on his bare upper body, limbs tangled and breaths mingling as he fell asleep and you stifled in your tears, because-

Because this was love, in its pure and raw form. It took you so long to get here but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. You wondered if all that happened was so that you could be right here, in this moment, feeling so complete-

But still, with the guilt of the lies you had said, with the secrets you kept. He was going to find out, and he would hate you, perhaps with all of his heart. But…

You’d keep your promise.

You were going to make Halaland pay for not only what they did to your homeland but what they did to their own. How they broke their own.

You chanted it to yourself along with the beat of Yunho’s heart.

—-------------------

Yunho was right about his brother being drafted to the enemy lines this time. He hated that he was right, but he could do nothing about it-

Or so he thought, because something had indefinitely snapped inside of you. Your hatred for Halaland was not only because of the fact that they took away your home and family, but because they took away the families of the ones who laid their lives for the cause. What for, you wondered? Halaland couldn’t even protect its own. So now, you were hell-bent on doing something about it.

Each day, you pretended to be serving Halaland with utmost sincerity, urging Yunho to put on the same act. He tried his best and you prayed that it would mislead the superiors and whoever was watching. Every other night, you and Yunho gathered in either of your rooms to discuss whatever you found during the day- stealing from the database (Yunho was quite skilled) or picking information spontaneously (your forte). You’d match your findings but-

Whatever was going on in Medical Research was very, very serious if it was kept this confidential. You always found yourselves at a dead end- anyone you could contact was either still an employee or wiped off the map without a trace.

So each night, you held Yunho in your arms and assured him that you would make it right for him. You caressed his face and kissed his head in promise, and each night he would ask you why you were doing this for him, just like he asked you tonight.

“Call me ungrateful but I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me, Aurora,” he was tracing the outlines of your face with one finger while you rested in his lap with a thick bundle of files you had been going through since the evening- the information of all the Utopian employees in the Medical Department. “I’d really like to know what the other reason is. You can’t simply be doing this for me.”

“What do you think it is?” You asked absently, reading the data of the person Yunho had pointed out earlier- Song Mingi. One of his oldest friends here who used to oversee some business in Medical Research before he went missing without a trace. The one, Yunho had told you, who made him embark on this journey.

“I don’t know,” Yunho’s arm was a comfortable weight around you and his lips on the bare skin of your neck were welcome. “I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“You’re pretty insistent for someone who doesn’t want to find out,” you mumbled, frowning as you read Song’s supervisor’s name- Dr. Kim- the same doctor who took your reports in your previous missions. “Is it strange that every missing person is somehow connected to Dr. Kim of Research?”

Yunho stopped nuzzling into your neck to look at you and think. “He is the supervisor.”

“That file over there,” you pointed at a file on the floor. “It said that Dr. Kim became the supervisor after every Utopian was expelled. A promotion at such a sensitive time is rather strange, don’t you think, given how ‘saddened’ you all must have been having lost a valuable ally in the war.”

Yunho shifted under you, making you face him, limbs still tangled. “You’re saying the feud must have begun due to something that happened in Medical Research, right?”

“It’s a possibility we should consider,” you planted the seed, knowing very well that it was a fact. “The timing of it all is strange. Do you think we can have someone confirm this fact? Or at least give us a hint?”

“I could ask Dr. Kang, but I’m not sure where his loyalty stands now,” he faltered.

“I mean… if they still haven’t erased him off the map, probably with Halaland?” You said and Yunho chuckled.

“Not that part. We’re all answering to someone. I don’t know if he’s answering to the right person.”

“I think we can trust him,” you offered. “When he trained me, he always insisted I put my ‘moral values’ before any order, no matter who it came from. It always stuck with me.”

“I can see that,” Yunho smiled, caressing the nape of your neck. “It’s probably why I’m here too. You don’t give a shit about rules, do you?”

You shrugged and smiled when he looked a little proud. “I could say the same for you. Do you know how dangerous it is to dig into information again? Haven’t you learned anything from the last time you did it?”

“I can’t let you carry this burden alone, can I?” He asked and you pouted because you’ve had this conversation with him just about a dozen times and he always insisted he do the dirty work and risk getting caught even when he was the one who had something to lose now. Yunho pecked at your pouted lips. “I want you to come with me when I meet Dr. Kang. He could be of help, and if he’s not…”

“If he’s not, all you have to do is say the word and he won’t breathe any part of it to anyone else,” you promised, heart dipping with the lie and he chuckled at your confidence before he kissed you.

His kisses, you were finding, could be soft like feathers when he wanted them to be. And right now, that was it. And these moments always put some hesitancy when you tried returning the sentiments because with each night you spent together like this, you were certain you could never bear being apart from him, never bear if he ever looked at you with hatred in his eyes- when he would eventually find out the truth.

Yunho’s hand cupped your face and tilted it, his hold tighter near your neck. You kissed back, but-

“Why do I always feel like something is holding you back when you’re with me, Aurora?”

You bit your lips as you drew away, finding it incredibly hard to open your eyes and face him but you did.

“The only reason I hold back,” you told him, shifting in his lap so you could face him, “is because I am so, so afraid of losing you, Yunho. I’m so afraid that you’ll hate me one day.”

“I could never hate you,” his grip on your waist tightened and you looked down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you were right now. If he pushed the right button, you would spill everything-

“Look at me, Aurora.”

You did and you couldn’t take the look in his eyes- you physically couldn’t, not when you wanted to tell him so much and risk wasting everything you’d built so far, so you kissed his lips with an urgency that told him to shut up for now and just kiss you back and make you feel good, and oh, did he return the sentiment.

“Don’t look at me like that again if you don’t want me to break,” you whispered in his ear.

“What about me, huh?” He stifled a pleasured groan when you rolled your hips on his lap. “Do you want to watch me break?”

You drew away and smiled and Yunho thought it was the most sadistic smile he had ever seen on anyone and it turned him on so bad. He picked you up effortlessly as he stood, making you scream a little and wrap your arms around his neck so you wouldn’t fall, laughing into his shoulder as he placed you on the table, hands on your thighs spreading them apart so he could fit between them as he looked down at you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said and then he was bringing you flush to his body and kissing you, rolling his hips along yours as you wrapped your legs around him. He wasted no time turning the kiss as heated and frantic as the movements of your body, his hands in your hair and one still on your thigh, thumb playing with the waistband of your shorts. You were lazily running your hands along his upper body and it was driving him crazy-

“Isn’t it about time we take it to bed?” You offered, looking at the clock. “It’s way past your bedtime, Yunho.”

He didn’t miss the suggestive glance and with another sensual kiss where he pulled at your lip, sending butterflies in your stomach, he let his fingers graze dangerously close to the skin between your thighs.

“Not before I have a taste of you right here.”

You shut your eyes in pleasure as warmth coursed through you at those words and you became lost in the bliss as he started trailing his lips down your body.

Taking it to bed could definitely wait.

—-----------------------

It took you both a few days to perfect the plan to meet Dr. Kang, and you were now wondering if Yunho was turning into you as he started setting the stage so the act could play out effortlessly, so that someone would come and tell him to go to Medical Research for some dealings or strategic planning. And you wondered why Yunho hadn’t done it earlier- he was so good at it that you were a little scared and had started to wonder if he wasn’t who he pretended to be.

Yunho laughed when you asked him that during your break when you two were alone in the cafeteria. “I obviously needed a partner, right?”

You shrugged, not buying it. “You’re doing just fine by yourself. I haven’t done anything.”

“You, Aurora, pointed me in the right direction,” he told you and you looked at him. “I’m simply preparing a ride so we can go there.”

And the ride was arranged in the matter of a few days when Dr. Choi herself assigned you and Yunho, the most skilled strategists in the department, to help sketch plans for the future course of the war and Halaland’s stance. Yunho asked Dr. Choi why they were doing the planning in the Medical Department- was it to plan the placement of medical camps? Dr. Choi answered that she believed so, but even she sounded unconvinced. So, together with Yunho, you were finally going to the Medical Research Department officially.

What you hadn’t expected was to be escorted to a storage room at the end of the Medical Research section and to be confronted by the same Dr. Kim who was pretty much in your blacklist now.

“Your seniors swear you’re the smartest of the bunch so I’m going to trust them and have you sign this non-disclosure agreement,” he began, keeping it simple. You and Yunho met eyes in confusion. “I’ll tell you the details after you have signed.”

When Yunho didn’t move, Dr. Kim scoffed. “Your old friend Kang swears you’re the best strategists, both of you, so I took his word for it. Want me to call him?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Yunho said. “I just need to look at the clauses before I sign. Can I have a moment?”

“Sure,” Dr. Kim relaxed back in his seat and Yunho tapped at your arm in question. You nodded- if Yeosang had really been the one who pulled the strings, you weren’t going to complain. In fact, even if he wasn’t, this was your chance to see just what was cooking here. Yunho seemed to understand that and you both read through the terms and signed.

“Very well,” Dr. Kim got up, taking the documents. “You’re being led to Level 0 of Medical Research- the lab only the selected few know about.”

Your heart sank in nervousness- this was it. Dr. Kim led you to the stairs and continued. “We’ve recently made a breakthrough and we think it’s about time that we get some input from the strategists. The war could end within days now, do you understand?”

Yunho looked as surprised as you had expected. Dr. Kim unlocked the door and immediately, you were hit with the stench of strong chemicals and cleaning alcohol. Dr. Kim asked you two to wait while he went inside a lab and you turned to Yunho.

“Listen to me- no matter what you see today, you do not react, understand?” You said, realising fully well that you were risking your identity. “Even if you see a familiar face or something inhumane, you play along and make the decisions they would like to hear. You cannot play the hero right now, okay?”

Yunho looked genuinely confused now but he understood that there was a high chance something immoral was going on here. “I’ll try.”

“You will, for your brother,” you whispered. “And I will too. For you.”

He squeezed your hand in assurance and before he could say anything else, Dr. Kim was back. “Follow me.”

—--------------------------

You two had just gotten back to your room from Level 0 of Medical Research, and you were staring at the walls as you tried to make sense of the horrors you had seen.

You were pretty sure it was as much of a blur to Yunho as it was for you- if you tried replaying it in your head, you recalled going inside and Dr. Kim explaining the background of how they got here, but then he led you inside and showed you-

A human experiment.

A man not much older than you, tied to the bed with steel chains as if he could break them apart. What was more surprising was that Dr. Kim confirmed he very well could. He was in a confined space and you watched through the glass.

“This seems to be our first successful prototype. Since a decade, we have been playing with the idea of a specialised human army- better strength, better skills. Quicker reflexes and better impulses. Utopia was our ally back then, and we usually discussed it as a fantasy until one of our doctors made a breakthrough in his research and created a drug he thought could do something similar.”

“So Utopia is doing the same as us?” You had asked casually, putting a hand on Yunho’s back and caressing once to assure him you were playing along.

“The whole reason Utopia and Halaland fell apart was disagreement on this- they have better morals, I’ll give them that,” Dr. Kim chuckled loudly and Yunho seemed visibly uncomfortable but passed a weak smile. “They changed sides. We continued to test our drugs, but we fell back- most of our skilled doctors had been Utopian. We lost many, hence the slow progress.”

“But now- you seem to have succeeded?” Yunho said.

“We’ve almost finished the testing period with this one,” he motioned at the man who seemed to be sleeping right now, looking very normal. “If the trial is successful, we’ll use the drug for others.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Yunho cleared his throat. “Where or who exactly are the others?”

Everything after that was a blur- Dr. Kim had revealed that there were only a few volunteers for this programme right now but they had a few Utopian employees and soldiers they had detained over the past few years. He had asked for strategic advice and you had set the trap for him- if, in case you lost the mission to expose them and they went ahead with their human army, you wanted them at the western front first- you knew Utopia would have something up their sleeve too- but Utopia would never stoop so low.

Yunho had done his best to play along. You two spent a few hours in that department, even met Dr. Kang who Dr. Kim claimed was one of the researchers for this programme and when you finally got to leave, Yunho followed you to your room.

You turned to him, still not believing what you had seen. “Is this real?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Yunho took a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m surprised I didn’t throw up at Dr. Kim’s feet.”

“Glad you didn’t,” you muttered. “What are we going to do, Yunho?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore, Aurora. I now know why my brother is fighting at the enemy lines- so I have no choice but to participate in this… massacre. Massacre of lives is what this is, Aurora. It disgusts me how they’re handling humans there- aren’t they humans themselves?”

“They’re not,” you almost whispered.

“I don’t know how many unfortunate souls have been wasted because the trial failed. That drug is basically a human-control drug. It could cause so much destruction in the war. What’s the point of winning now, though?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I understand now, why the doctor we went to retrieve didn’t want to go back- death is a better option than becoming a human lab rat.”

“Can’t we expose them?” You wondered out loud. “I don’t know- even to the enemy?” You looked at Yunho but the guarded look in his eyes- he had to think of his brother too. “I could do that, Yunho. I have nothing to lose- you can play along while I expose them and end this inhumanity-”

“You won’t do it alone,” Yunho shook his head furiously. “I won’t let you do it alone.”

“You have your brother, Yunho-”

“And you,” he turned to you and you almost cried, overwhelmed. “I can’t risk losing you too.”

“And I can’t risk losing you, either, please,” you joined your hands and rested your forehead against them. “Please let me do it alone.”

“What are you not telling me, Aurora?”

You looked at him, finding a knowing look in his eyes. You shook your head and he sighed. “You still can’t tell me?”

“Not yet,” you finally muttered and he nodded, planting a kiss on your forehead and you let the tears fall, realising this might be the last moment Yunho would look at you with such love.

“Why do you cry, love?”

You only hid your face in his lap and he held you as you cried silent tears, caressing your head through it all. When you stopped, he made you look at him as he wiped your face.

“I don’t know why you don’t believe me, I don’t know what you’ve done or at this point, who you are, but I know you’re not as bad as you make yourself to be,” he had the gentlest smile on his face as he ran a thumb over your lips, locking eyes with you. “And I could never hate you, because you’ve saved me so many times now. You don’t even know how.”

“I’m sorry,” you almost whispered and he shook his head, leaning in to kiss you deeply and you responded eagerly. When he broke back, he joined his forehead with yours.

“No matter where we go from here, I love you, Aurora. That’s the reason why I won’t let you do this alone, and I would hate it if you put yourself in a situation where you get hurt and I lose you forever, do you understand?”

You smiled at that, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him good and tight. “And I love you, Yunho. That is why I’ll still insist that I have to do it alone- because I can’t bear to lose more people.”

“This argument will never end at this rate,” Yunho laughed as he rocked you back and forth. You drew back, pushing his hair away.”

“I know one way it will,” you suggested and he immediately understood, attacking you with an urgent kiss, making you arch into it and soon, he was on top of you on the couch, taking off layer after layer of your clothes, of the mask you wore around him, until you were bare. Until you wished he would call your real name when he kissed every inch of your body and murmured sweet nothings. Until you broke in every way possible, wondering how you could ever recover from this.

You had to do this alone.

—---------------------------

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

When the Captain had said those words, you had wanted to tell him he was wrong. Yes, that was the loneliest period of your life, but even then you had a few people who were with you. You had simply nodded and let him believe his words were wrapping around your heart.

However, now that Yunho held Kang Yeosang at gunpoint and looked at you with absolute hatred in his eyes, you couldn’t help but think back to that moment. You could practically feel the Captain’s hands on your shoulders as he whispered it in your ears-

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

Before you knew it, you were pointing a gun at Yunho’s head too and Yeosang stopped struggling in his grasp as he looked at you in surprise.

“We don’t have to do this, Yunho,” you said and even though your tone was harsh, your voice still quivered a bit.

“We really don’t, Aurora,” he said, tightening his hold on Yeosang. “I don’t know who you are anymore or why you’re doing this, but I can’t let you take these people.”

Everything had gone horribly wrong tonight. Seonghwa had provided you with the big plan- a distraction that would give you and him enough time to vacate Level 0 with the people trapped in there. Yeosang and Dr. Seo Yuna- a Halaland native who strongly opposed the idea of human experiments- were on duty tonight so all they had to do was sneak you in and show you the emergency exit. It led to a restricted parking area where Seonghwa would be waiting with an ambulance-

An ambulance because the Medical Department would be set on fire tonight. Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were trained just like the other doctors in Level 0 on the evacuation process in case of an emergency. What the higher-ups wouldn’t expect would be everyone in Level 0 disappearing without a trace. Level 0 and all its data would turn to ashes tonight.

The plan was seamless, however, Yunho’s presence was something you didn’t expect and it caught you off guard when he arrived at the basement. He spotted you transferring his old friend, Song Mingi, on a stretcher and ran towards him, making you freeze momentarily as he examined his state.

“What happened?” Yunho asked you.

“Do you… recognise him?” You were going to play dumb for as long as you could.

“That’s Mingi- my old friend,” he sounded broken as he brushed the hair off Mingi’s face, finding him all ragged and pale. “What are you doing here, Aurora?”

You glanced around- Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were not present. You turned to Yunho. “You can’t be here- I was assigned to help evacuate the members of Level 0 because of the fire. Nobody assigned you, as far as I know.”

“And who assigned you?” His gaze was hard and you bit your lips, about to make up an answer when you heard footsteps behind you and saw Yeosang appear from the tunnel, look at you both and take out his gun to point at Yunho, who scoffed in disbelief.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave- you cannot be here,” Yeosang drew closer and for the first time, you couldn’t make a quick decision, only glanced back and forth like a confused child.

“Why is my presence such a big problem here?” Yunho straightened, gazing at both of his friends long and hard. “I’m authorised with access here, just like Aurora, am I not?”

Yeosang glanced at you and your reflexes kicked in- you knew that look. He was going to shoot Yunho. When his hand shifted on the trigger, you immediately grabbed a tray and threw it at Yeosang, making Yunho duck as he shot. Yeosang gaped at you and you ran towards him but he pointed his gun at you, making you raise your hands.

“Please, Yeosang, not him,” you begged. “He can help- just listen to me-”

“The Captain only allowed you to save his brother,” he whispered. “He said nothing about Yunho.”

You were about to protest when Yunho pushed you to the side- you didn’t even hear him coming this time. He was on Yeosang in a second, startling him and wrestling him until he was in his grasp and Yunho had him at gunpoint.

And so here you stood, pointing your gun at him. You caught your breath and shut your eyes when the tears started to sting. When you opened them, you spoke. “You have two choices, Yunho. You can either let me go and meet your brother at the same cabin the doctor died that day, or you can kill me right now and lose everything you love.”

“I’ve already lost everything I love,” his voice was strangled and you shook your head in denial.

“You can save your brother,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Where are you taking them?” He asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” you shook your head, knowing what it would cost you if you told Yunho everything right now- not only your life but Yunho’s as well.

“Is this who you are, Aurora?” Yunho scoffed. “A true Halaland loyal?”

You didn’t respond though his words felt like a stab. “You have 10 seconds to make a decision.”

The sound of those seconds being ticked off echoed within all of you and at the 9th second when you were about to pull the trigger, Yunho let go of Yeosang and you exhaled in relief, but it died down when his eyes met yours, full of betrayal. Hatred. Confusion. And so, so much anger.

“It’s funny, now that I think about it,” Yunho pushed his hair back. “All those times we interacted. Your sole purpose was to use me to get here, wasn’t it?”

This time, the tears did leave your eyes. Yeosang shook his head and asked Yunho to exit the premises and go through the emergency exit unnoticed if he wanted to save his brother. Yunho passed you a sad smile before he left and you sank down to your knees, fisting the ends of your shirt and screaming your heart out. Yeosang patted your back once before muttering that you had already lost precious time.

You helped transport the members in a daze. When you set fire to the lab, you didn’t feel one ounce of regret. You told yourself you would set a similar fire some day and burn your feelings for Yunho as well.

But tonight? Tonight you would let them consume you and drive you mad. Only tonight.

So when you spotted the Captain in an abandoned building that you were going to use until you could go back to Utopia, the cracks of dawn illuminating the ruins, you didn’t bow like you would have. You ran to him instead and hit his chest with your fists repeatedly, crying and screaming, not caring who witnessed the moment. The Captain made no move to stop you, raising a hand to stop Seonghwa instead who was pulling out his gun. He let you have your moment until you were tired and rested your head against his shoulder, crying your heart out.

“Who broke you, Aurora? Who melted that ice-cold heart of yours?”

“I hate you for doing this to me,” you cried and he tsk-ed. “I won’t forgive you.”

“I told you, Aurora,” he held you by your shoulders and you looked at him- hair styled an odd way- half bleached and half natural. It made him look fiercer than ever. “I told you that you will always be alone in this field. It is your weakness that led you here. You can blame me all you want, but it’s on you.”

“Just tell me it’s over,” you said, feeling drained. “Tell me my job is done.”

“It is,” he nodded. “When we go back to Utopia… you’re a free bird if you choose to be.”

You looked beside you at Seonghwa and Yeosang, shaking your head. “I’m going to head inside first then.”

—----------------------

Yunho didn’t know what he was expecting when he broke into the cabin, but his brother laughing with someone else looking unscathed and free just wasn’t it.

He frowned in confusion. “Gunho?”

Gunho gasped audibly before rushing to hug his brother and Yunho almost cried in relief. Gunho looked at him. “You’re finally here!”

“Were you waiting for me?” Yunho scanned him, making sure he was okay.

“Of course I was,” he patted his arm, drawing back. “Wooyoung here was kind enough to get me- he won’t tell me who he is but apparently he holds the authority to discharge me from the army. I’m free now.”

“No way,” Yunho breathed, looking gratefully at Wooyoung who shook his head.

“I was simply doing my job.”

“Who assigned you?” Yunho dared to ask.

“I think you know that already,” Wooyoung winked, getting up and straightening his army uniform. “I’ll be taking my leave now. My last message for you is ‘don’t go back’. Oh, and I have something else-”

Wooyoung dug in his pocket and produced four bullets, placing them in Yunho’s extended palm. Yunho recognised the bullets- the one he’d given Aurora, but-

“There should be one more?”

“She kept one,” Wooyoung smiled knowingly.

Yunho sighed deeply. “Tell me where to find her- or someone who can give me answers.

Wooyoung considered for a moment- he had seen the way Aurora had nearly broken when she begged him to save someone she knew nothing about except the name. And the fact that this person was here and still looked sceptical…

Wooyoung took out a piece of paper and pencil and scribbled an address. “Seven days from now, you can find us here. I don’t know if Aurora will still be there by that time.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asked.

“We’re going back home, Yunho,” Wooyoung smiled. “The war is ending soon. There will be no victory, simply a treaty.”

“Home?” Yunho couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wooyoung simply saluted mockingly before exiting the cabin.

—---------------------

The past week, Yunho had replayed every moment since Aurora came into his life. Every single time he had seen her, had interacted with her or heard about her from someone else.

He realised he had been blind. The answer was so painfully obvious- Aurora wasn’t from Halaland at all. He was pretty sure her name wasn’t Aurora as well.

She was a spy, he knew. And now that he thought about it, she hadn’t really done much to hide it- at least not in front of him. From always staring towards the west, not at the setting sun but towards her homeland, to almost cracking Utopia’s code so easily- he wondered if she was the mastermind behind the code. The way she questioned every move Halaland made, the way she put a distance between them-

Every night, he held the four bullets in his hands and wondered why she kept the fifth one. It made him so, so restless.

And every night, Yunho always ended his train of thoughts with the same question every night-

Did she actually love him, or was all of it to get to Medical Research?

Was he simply a rung on the ladder to get to her goal? Or was he not meant to be part of the equation at all, a mistake on her part?

Yunho didn’t realise how long he simply stood in front of the cottage until someone creeped up behind him, patting his back and scaring him a little. It was Seonghwa- yet another surprise.

Just how many people in the Halazia Research Facility were spies? Were they only Utopians or were they from other nations as well?

“I almost killed you because I didn’t recognise you,” Seonghwa lit a cigarette, offering him one but Yunho declined. “So you’re finally here.”

“What do you mean ‘finally here’?” Yunho asked. “Were you expecting me?”

“We placed bets- don’t tell Aurora,” Seonghwa snickered. “Yeosang owes me 10 now.”

She was still here.

“Where is she?” Yunho gulped.

“Not so quick, mate,” Seonghwa scanned him. “You’ve been travelling quite a bit, haven’t you?”

“Have you been spying on me?” Yunho scoffed.

“Weren’t you looking for a place to keep your brother safe?” Seonghwa simply said. “Have you found one?”

“Not yet,” Yunho admitted.

“You could come with us, you know.”

Yunho considered that. “I don’t know who ‘us’ is. I can’t blindly follow you to god knows where.”

“Well then, I guess you should meet the Captain. He specifically asked me to bring you to him if you came. He’s quite interested in seeing the face of the person who broke his dear Aurora’s heart.”

Yunho raised a brow though his heart sank at his admission. “Where is she, Seonghwa?”

“Out on a mission- she’ll be back by dawn,” Seonghwa urged him to follow him inside and took him to a room where Yunho spotted a man with unique hair standing by the fire. Seonghwa knocked on the door and he turned.

“This is Jeong Yunho.”

“This is him?” the man scoffed as he came forward, a cane in his hand that Yunho wasn’t entirely sure was for mobility purposes. Probably a weapon. “I expected something else- I don’t know. I can’t believe this is the face that melted her frozen heart.”

“And who are you?” Yunho countered, watching Seonghwa take his leave. The man motioned for him to take a seat and Yunho did after a moment of hesitation. The man followed, sitting in front of him.

“They call me the Captain around here. Captain of the Crescents- a group of spies who were born for the sole purpose of taking revenge on Halaland after they betrayed us. Betrayed Utopia.”

Yunho let that sink in. “What revenge?”

“I think you know that already,” the Captain sighed. “Honestly, when I learned that Aurora had told you more than you should have known, considering you don’t have an ounce of Utopian blood in you, I was ready to kill both her and you. But, that brat…” he scoffed in amusement. “She got on her knees for you, Jeong. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Yunho looked blank so he continued. “Aurora is one of the best spies I’ve known in my life. I had to break her to make her bend. But you… what did you do? What sweet things did you mutter to turn my strongest spy into such a hopeless mess? All these years of training her into becoming a cold-hearted thinker and assassin, and she melts because apparently you looked, really looked at her with those eyes of yours.”

Yunho looked down, each word hammering a nail in his head. “If she had told me… I would have joined her. I was never in favour of Halaland’s unethical methods, and after I discovered what was really going on…”

“If she told you, you would have exposed her. She understood that, because she would have done the same. You’re only human, after all,” the Captain twirled the cane in his hands. “Why are you here today?”

“To get answers,” Yunho replied.

“You’ve got your answers now, haven’t you? Scoot off, then,” he relaxed back, glaring at Yunho.

“Who are you, really?” Yunho asked. “How come you knew about the Medical Research Department?”

The Captain’s smirk fell and he looked wistfully into the fire. “Because I’m one of the masterminds behind Level 0, and to this day, I regret being a part of it.”

Yunho was positive his heart actually dropped to his feet. “You’re a Utopian?”

“The only Utopian who escaped at the right time before they turned against us and stole our ideas,” the Captain looked at Yunho. “Kim Hongjoong, in flesh and blood.”

“Kim Hongjoong is dead,” Yunho couldn’t believe his ears. “We held a funeral for you.”

“A good cover up by Halaland, I’ll give them that,” he shrugged. “They needed to do that to take over and turn on Utopia- they’ve been on my tail ever since. I wasn’t sure if they had the brains to continue with the experimentation- testing on humans was never my idea either. It’s why I sent Aurora to finish this once and for all. We’ve met with your higher-ups and we’ve agreed to not expose their dirty deeds if they end this nonsensical war. The official end of the war will be announced soon.”

Yunho definitely felt something like a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders at the revelation. “And where are the members of Level 0?”

“The ones who were actually doing the dirty deeds will be secretly tried in court. The ones who were spies, like Yeosang… they’re going home. I understand you had a few friends there? Mingi, for instance? He was my closest junior- he’s in the next room if you wish to see him.”

Yunho nodded, letting all of this digest before he got up. “Thank you for what you did- I’m not sure I quite understand the gravity of it yet- it’s too much to process right now, but… thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I did what I had to,” Hongjoong looked at him, an unspoken agreement shared.

He needed to thank Aurora.

He needed to see Aurora.

Yunho spent the most part of the night with Mingi, catching up and confirming the facts, learning that the ‘lab rats’ were now being treated by the doctors and realising how brutally his people had treated even their own. His heart felt tight in his chest by the time he was done chatting with him and he went outside for some fresh air.

And a few minutes later, spotted two figures walking towards the cottage.

He could recognise you even from your silhouette, and he thought it was crazy that he did. He recognised the exact moment you saw him and paused for a mere fraction of a second before continuing to move like nothing had happened. He knew your mannerisms, he knew you inside out, and yet-

He knew nothing about you.

He didn’t even know your name.

This time when you met eyes, he waved awkwardly at you and you felt your heart sink again. You wanted to scream at him, shout at him, but you were far too tired. Your companion took leave, disappearing inside and you walked slowly but surely to Yunho.

“You’re here.”

Yunho passed a tight-lipped smile, wondering where to begin. He scanned you as you took off your mask and hat, looking-

Fatigued.

“Are you- have you been well?” Yunho asked, hating how he sounded.

You shrugged. “Did you meet your brother?”

“Yes. He’s safe now…” Yunho took a step forward but you backed away and he paused, muttering a ‘sorry’.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then?” You began, looking up and scanning him- you had no idea where he had been the past week but he looked the most weary. “You heard everything, I’m assuming?”

Yunho nodded. “I should have seen it earlier. You didn’t really hide it from me, did you?”

A faintest hint of a smile crawled to your lips. “You don’t always see what’s in front of your eyes, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart tugged at the way you called his name. “What are we going to do, Aurora?”

You passed a weak smile. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going back. I cannot spend one day longer in this wicked, wicked land.”

Yunho felt the jab good and well. “I’m sorry for what it took from you.”

“Are you?” You sighed when hurt flashed across his eyes. “I’m not even mad at you, Yunho. I’m just… disappointed in myself. I’m disappointed that my love didn’t seem real enough- that you doubted my intentions so quickly.”

“And wouldn’t you have done the same?” Yunho challenged. “If I turned my back on you? Wouldn’t you have questioned every moment that we shared?”

“Maybe not-”

“You could have told me, Aurora,” Yunho almost yelled in frustration but clenched his eyes shut to reel himself in. “All you had to do was trust me. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me who you were. I keep calling you Aurora but that’s not even your name.”

You felt the very familiar sting in your eyes. “I had people to protect.”

“And so did I,” Yunho’s gaze was hard. “And I had you to protect. I would have laid my life down for you, if only you had allowed me to.”

You turned away, wiping your eyes. “I couldn’t allow that.”

“So we’re even then, aren’t we?” Yunho’s voice was also quivering and you dared to glance at him. “Please… look at me.”

You did and this time when he stepped towards you, you didn’t back away. He put his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them just like he used to. “Tell me your name.”

You passed him a sad smile as you told him your name, buried somewhere so deep inside you, uncalled for years. He said it twice, testing it on his lips. It felt right.

“Y/n,” he smiled widely and you laughed through the tears. “I want to know who that is. I want to learn about you again, if you’ll let me. If you forgive me for doubting you and for being an asshole-”

“No,” you shook your head furiously. “You gave me so much, Yunho, and I returned nothing in comparison. I would have lost myself there if it weren’t for your presence always grounding me, even when we were as good as strangers. I- you gave me love when I thought I’d never find it again, when it had become a foreign concept to me.”

“Do you love me still, y/n?” He asked, his eyes expectant.

“I do, you fool,” you laughed, finally earning the grin you so loved to see. “I hope you don’t hate me.”

“How could I?” Yunho’s hand shook slightly as he cupped your face and you leaned into his touch. His gaze was so strong as he caressed the angles of your face- you were positive your knees were actually turning weak and perhaps they were, that’s why his other hand travelled to your waist to bring you closer. “How could I hate you when you look at me like this? Like you could break me? Like you’d break in my touch too?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering there and you breathed in the scent of him- the scent that was your home now. Yunho didn’t waste any more time, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that absolutely shattered you the way it was so cautious yet so, so demanding. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes with your body flush against him as you kissed back, deeper, making him loosen up with every movement until you were simply making out, exchanging all the feelings too deeply buried, all the words unspoken, all the apologies and the promises.

“I missed you so, so much, y/n,” Yunho breathed against your lips when you broke apart for breath, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth that made you dig your nails into his skin. He pecked your lips again. “You have no idea.”

“I do,” you kissed him. “I know all too well.”

Yunho drew apart, tucking your hair behind your ears as he gazed at you lovingly. “Take me with you this time, will you?”

“You want to come with me to Utopia?” You raised a brow.

“I mean… all my friends will be there,” he glanced back at the cottage and you understood who he meant. “Besides… I’m quite sick of Halaland too. Pretty sure they have a wanted poster back in the facility for me.”

You laughed at that. “Basically you want to come with me because you’re dead meat here.”

“I’m dead meat anywhere if I’m not with you-”

“Stop!” You put your hands over your ears, laughing as you ran away because his goofy side was back and he went after you, making you squeal.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood watching from the window upstairs. Hongjoong tsk-ed. “An absolutely disgusting sight, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Seonghwa clinked his drink with Hongjoong’s and they both cursed under their breaths as they drank-

To love. To victory.

To going back home.

2K notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

Text

new light ; jyh

"you should still talk to him, you know"

"i know i should, i'm just not sure if i'm ready to face his rejection yet"

"i know he's gonna listen and maybe even try if i ask, but i don't want him to do anything he's not comfortable with," you sighed and put a hand over your eyes, the lights suddenly too bright.

"you wouldn't, though," seonghwa tried to reason, "yunho is not the type to not tell when he doesn't like something. also, i have a feeling he might be into that even if he doesn't know yet"

"... i've never quite liked being with someone like i do with you, but..." yunho gulped, "... you know, i just.."

"what is it, love? are you not comfortable with something i did? tell me what is it and i'll fix it"

you shook your head slowly, finally making eye contact, "i don't think it's something you did, yunho. it's more like something i want but i fear i might make this awkward"

you cringed on your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were finally saying it and wondering if you should backtrack.

yunho's eyebrows furrowed.

"try me, y/n. do you want me to tie you up in the air or something?," he was so very obviously trying to joke but seeing how you made yourself small against the couch, he coughed, "wait, seriously?"

"would that make you uncomfortable?"

the simplicity of his tone made you frown.

"well, now that you say it like that..."

"we can wait before trying changing things, you know," your soft whisper fell against his plumped lips, "think about it till you're comfortable"

yunho kissed you again, this time more fierce before tightening his grip on you and starting a trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck.

"do you want to do it now, though?," shivers ran down your spine as his now slightly hoarse voice ringed in your ears, "because i do"

"no, doll. today you'll just take what i give you, yeah?"

he quickly slid one of his shirts on your body so you weren't cold and held you close, both still too agitated to give in to your heavy eyelids.

after a while of him caressing your back and you drawing shapes with your finger on his arm, you heard his voice again.

"depends," you joked with a sleepy voice and fluttering eyelashes, admittedly a bit flirty for his inquisitive gaze, "will you spank me next time?"

#ateez smut #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #ateez scenarios

489 notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 11 months ago

Text

outlaw

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫�� 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"another one, sweetheart."

i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.

"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.

your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.

if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"you're quitting school."

just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.

"hey, bitch, over here!"

monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.

reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.

the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.

sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.

you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.

a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.

the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.

"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"

you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.

"hungry?"

this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.

"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."

he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.

"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.

"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."

but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.

"clumsy girl," he teases.

you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.

"wyatt," he calls.

the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.

"you go on. i'll catch up with you."

without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.

you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.

the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.

"if you're done staring, you can join me."

caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.

"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."

and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?

you should really get home.

thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.

"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.

it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.

"i'll take you home."

"no!"

the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.

you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."

"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"because."

"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."

if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.

fuck.

"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.

"lies."

"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"

"does he beat you every day?"

he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.

"or only when you do something wrong?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."

you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?

"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."

you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.

when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.

he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.

"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.

"i'll be fine." you lie.

you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."

he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.

"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."

he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.

weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.

you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.

the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"what's wrong, boy?"

denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."

"who is?"

"the stallion."

you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.

your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.

"good day, darling."

your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."

"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.

"uh, yes-"

"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.

the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"

"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."

the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."

you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-

"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.

"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"

defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."

alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.

"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"

you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.

his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"

you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.

"that's okay."

his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.

he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.

realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes.

as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."

hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.

you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.

and you don't even know his name.

"did he touch you?"

"what?!"

"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"

"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"

he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"

"like?"

"anything."

"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."

smack.

nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.

"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."

"but it's dinner time-"

"judith will help me. go. now."

not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?

you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.

"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.

"oh." is all you manage to say.

"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."

"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.

"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"

no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?

"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"

you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.

"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."

other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.

"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."

you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.

"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."

his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?

"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."

"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"

"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."

"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"

"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."

"i didn't want to-"

"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."

"no."

the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.

your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.

"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."

tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.

"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"

his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.

"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."

you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?

"let's get you washed."

after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.

you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.

if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.

the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?

for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.

saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.

"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."

"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"

"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.

they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.

but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.

slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.

"gin."

"right away."

the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.

"say, when are we going to have fun again?"

"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"

yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.

"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.

he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.

"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.

"what?"

"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."

"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."

"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."

great.

you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

he is so manly, so handsome, and so...

"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"

he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."

you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?

"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."

"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.

you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-

"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"

"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.

"give yourself some time to think."

the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.

"uh... can you sit up straight?"

yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.

"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"

"right away, darling."

he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.

"you missed a spot."

"huh?"

"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.

"oh, sorry."

he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.

"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.

"but-"

"i'll finish up. go."

coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.

yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.

you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.

"i can't do it."

"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."

"i need time."

jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?

"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."

"what, he spoke to you about me?"

wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.

"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.

you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"

the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."

"what do you mean? yes or no?"

"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.

"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."

you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."

"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"

"jongho. shut the fuck up."

"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."

the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.

the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.

how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.

it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.

the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.

"aren't you cute?"

your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.

"moonshine."

click. click. click.

"come on, girl."

the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.

"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"

your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.

"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."

his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.

"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"

the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.

"heavens." he exhales.

you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.

"darling?"

his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?

you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.

"had a good nap?"

"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"that's no place to sleep, dove."

"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."

he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.

"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."

"i'm not sure-"

"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.

the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.

"go on, climb her."

"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."

"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."

with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.

"is she fast?"

"she can be. want to see?"

"i don't know. i might scream."

he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?

"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.

you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.

you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.

his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.

"you alright?"

"yes!"

"how do you feel? scared?"

"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"

his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.

"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.

"a bit."

this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.

you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?

"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."

and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.

"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."

"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."

"take it."

"no."

"take it."

"i don't want to."

yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-

"why would you do that?!"

you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.

"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."

"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."

his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.

"you know my name."

"yeah."

"how?"

and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.

"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."

you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"

"a psycho."

"oh."

"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."

he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."

"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."

"then... why did you keep it?"

"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."

"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."

he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."

so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?

"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"

"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.

"he stole your first kiss."

"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.

"what- what are you doing?"

"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."

you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.

you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.

he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.

"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.

"like what?"

"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."

"maybe i do."

"you're saying risky things, sugar."

seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.

"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.

he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.

"what is it?"

"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."

the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."

"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.

"like a feast."

with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"

"sit."

"what?!"

"sit."

you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.

"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."

you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"

the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.

"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.

deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"

"yes, please."

"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."

he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.

"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."

you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.

"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."

he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?

"this good, darling?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.

he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.

"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"

"what?"

"do you wish to be mine?"

do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:

"yes, sir."

"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.

"yunho."

he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."

"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.

"again."

"yunho-"

"more."

"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"

he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.

"does it hurt?"

"no," you reply.

"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."

that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.

"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."

"me too," you moan.

his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.

"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."

"so sweet"

"even your moans are so beautiful"

"use me for your pleasure, darling"

you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.

"yunho..."

"yes, my love?"

"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."

"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."

you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.

"let's try this."

he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.

"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.

"wait, what about you?"

"i'll just- i don't know."

his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"absolutely sure?"

"yunho?"

"yes?"

"please cum in my mouth."

and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"you are just perfect, aren't you?"

in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.

upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?

he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.

"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.

"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.

"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."

"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."

blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."

"he shot her."

"you shot my father!"

"he deserved it!"

"no, the fuck he didn't!"

you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?

"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.

"don't touch me."

"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."

he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.

"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.

"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."

he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?

"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."

"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."

yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?

"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."

and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.

why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?

"you're all mine now, sunshine."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

Text

better this way ； jeong yunho.

cw: angst. hurt no comfort. yunho x reader. breakup au. mentions of emotional manipulation. nothing in this piece depicts the personality of the real life characters.

cold. a shiver ran down yunho’s back as a chilling breeze made its way down the busy street where the cafeteria he was in was located. it was almost like he couldn’t feel anything, his gaze still fixated on the cup of coffee in front of him and his racing mind still unable to slow down.

summer had dragged on slowly and tortuously without him noticing and finally, the first sketches of autumn could be seen all around the streets of seoul. yunho remembers that autumn used to be your favorite season. back then, you used to say that you loved watching trees with their bare branches, almost as much as you liked seeing them covered in beautiful greens, pinks and purples from their flowers and leaves. you loved to watch them like that because it meant that at some point their leaves would grow back, filled with life again and renewed and stronger than before, ready to face a new year after another cold, merciless winter. you used to say that trees were more beautiful that way, fragile and vulnerable but expectant for the near future, hoping for a brighter spring.

you used to say a lot of things and now, even after all this time, yunho could still vividly hear your voice gently brushing his ear, comforting in a way even though the mere thought of you hurt like a million crystals right trough his chest.

yunho wonders as he stirs the now cold coffee on his cup if he is somehow a tree. if he, just like the trees surrounding him, would also shine bright after all.

after you left he never tried to contact you again, the wound still so fresh that only one step in the wrong direction would be enough to drive him mad. he tries not to think about you too much, but it is in instances like this one when he is alone with only his thoughts to keep him company that he wonders if you are okay. if you, as same as him, are unable to heal.

after you left you didn't tried to call him either, not even once. he wonders, and he wonders a lot, how is that possible. how, after years of laughs, tears, hugs, kisses and shared dreams you didn't tried to text him, you didn't tried to check on him.

truth to be told, months have passed since the last time he saw you. you left your shared apartment on a good spring morning, one in which the birds sung happily out of his window and the scent of flowers flooded the streets with ruthless freshness, ironically contrasting with his own feeling of emptiness. he never felt like it was real because after that day he tried to drown his emotions, to cage them in a dark corner of his heart where the pain couldn’t reach him anymore and it almost worked. at least for a while.

after you broke off your engagement, he desperately tried to focus on work. to make himself so busy that he didn’t have to think of you and he could replace the nagging feeling of guilt deeply rooted on his chest with something else, anything. if somebody were to ask him, the first couple of weeks were the hardest. it was so difficult to look around and not see you there, smiling at him with your soft hair all scattered and your pretty eyes looking at him with nothing but devoted care.

he tried making himself so tired with nights out and countless one night stands that at some point, the sole idea of getting a shot of alcohol down his throat or the sole idea of touching another body or letting another hands that weren’t yours touch him would repulse him. none of these people were you. none of these people cared about him and he didn’t care about any of them. he missed you, and he didn’t know how to stop.

looking back to the day you left, yunho remembers feeling so numb that he acted like he didn’t care and that drove you away even further. no tears were shed, but the pained sparkle of disappointment in your eyes would never leave his mind. deep down, the confusion and hurt in his chest were still eating him alive.

he couldn’t name the moment your relationship had broke beyond repair. he couldn’t put his finger on the exact reason why you had left, even after all your explaining and the obvious frustration on your face each time you tried to communicate your feelings to him and he didn’t react. like talking to a wall made of bricks, so thick that none of your words would really reach him.

you hadn’t cheated. he hadn’t cheated. you had not betrayed each other like that, but to be honest, he had done far worse. he had made everything and anything on the book so as to break your trust slowly, to make you feel like you were alone and it was a battle against him instead of a battle of you two against the world.

you had asked him several times, jokingly at first but also with tears streaming down your face and later on, with a dead stare plastered over your annoyed features. you wanted to know why, although he said he loved you, he could never listen to you and stop hurting you.

yunho never really listened because he always thought that as long as you were well taken care of financially and as long as he never cheated, you would never leave.

he never stopped flirting with other people, no matter if you were around to see or not. he never cut off people who were disrespectful to your relationship under the premise of not having to please everybody as long as you were happy together. he never stopped pressuring you into changing your mind whenever you made a decision that wasn’t satisfying enough to him and he could never stop himself from manipulating situations so as to make you believe everything was your fault and you were the one that needed to change.

he noticed the progressive changes in your attitude towards him over the months. how you went from a happy and caring partner to a person who had grown fearful of him, closed off now to any sort of emotional intimacy due to him disregarding you each and every time.

not everything was bad though, and yunho thinks that may be the reason why you hesitated so much before leaving. he was never outright disrespectful or violent towards you and he never went too far with words either. he was always there to support your career and hobbies, he was always charming to your friends and family and he always made sure to give you love in other ways.

that was the problem, in your opinion. that he always gave you everything except for what you explicitly asked and needed. he was always there, but you couldn’t feel more alone. in your own words, a roller coaster in which the good times were priceless and unmatched and the bad times were so bad, that you never wanted to go back. but you ended up doing it, and each and every time you would lose a piece of yourself in order to please him, to the extent that by the end of your relationship, you were nothing but a shell of the person you used to be.

that was also something he used to nag you about, and as he remembered, he couldn’t help but wince. why couldn’t you be as bright and bubbly as you used to be? were you that comfortable in the relationship that you couldn’t show happiness around him anymore? always fighting, always with an attitude, in his own words. why couldn’t you be more like his friend’s partners? why, why, why?

looking back on it yunho understood now why you had grown tired of pushing and fighting, a one sided relationship you were now sick of trying to keep afloat. and to that day, yunho was still unable to explain his train of thought or why he treated you the way he did.

and so you had left. ha had been in denial for a while, and the first time that he heard from one of your mutual friends that you were on the dating scene again, he had lost his mind. he visited your favorite coffee place at least once every week in hopes to catch a glimpse of you, just like he was doing right now. he would look around and be surprised by the way everything around him seemed to change except for him. you never went back and if he knew you well, it was because you had changed your entire routine so as to avoid him and the memories, too. he wanted you back, much more now that he knew from other people that you wanted to move on. and still, he never called.

if you had to be honest you had half expected him to contact you at least once and never let you go, just like he had promised back when you were still sure he was the love of your life. but he didn’t. on the back of his mind, he knew that wouldn’t be fair, so he gave up. and so, you grew apart with such ease that to this day it was still difficult to believe that just a couple of months ago you were about to get married with the man you shared all of your moments with. he was there all of the time and suddenly he wasn’t anymore.

for him it had felt like the last six months had gone by without him knowing. he could barely remember anything from those months but he couldn’t remember much either from the time you were together.

sometimes yunho thinks of you as some kind of fever dream. he doesn't think of you as real anymore since he can't remember your touch on his skin or how your lips felt on his, and the only proof that you ever existed and were a part of his life was the sinking feeling of longing and nostalgia when he looked at the very familiar corner of that coffee place, with its trees bare facing the promise of a cold winter, and when he looked at the ring you had proposed with on his right hand, the ring that he refused to take off.

he doesn’t remember much but he doesn't try to remember either. he doesn't want to. he knows that facing those memories would mean he would have to face the fact that he hurt you and lost you, all on his own.

"maybe you were just a figment of my imagination, maybe I made it all up in my head"

and maybe, just maybe, it was better that way.

#yunho scenarios #yunho angst #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #may or may not be prompted by a real life breakup lmao #yunho writing #ateez fic #yunho fanfic #ateez writing

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

Text

2:52 AM.—

“well, it’s not cookie dough but i remember you once told me oreo ice cream was your favorite, so…”

you rolled on your back just in time to see yunho drop the convenience store bag filled with sweets and something that very much looked like a box of medicine on the kitchen counter. you smiled at him, reaching out with your arms extended and an inviting look on your face. it was late, probably well past two in the morning on a regular thursday and he had gone out in search of ice cream for you.

over the weekend he had invited you to the movies, taking advantage of his free time and hoping the lovely summer weather would be a good setting for him to see you after not being able to come over or go out at all the last couple of weeks. he wanted to catch up because he had missed you, badly. playing games on his own wasn’t as fun as it was when you were there to cheer him up or laugh at him for losing, and yes, he had to admit that hanging out with all of his friends there except for you had been less enjoyable, even if the slightest bit. performing and working had been enough to keep him distracted but he couldn’t help the lingering feeling whenever he looked around and he couldn’t see you. that’s just how life was though, comeback time was usually hectic and life had been busy for you too. that’s why he was so excited to see you and hopefully spend his whole day with you. unfortunately for you, it had rained pretty heavily and even though you absolutely loved summer evenings filled with warm rain, you were also very prone to catch a cold and after your little weekend trip, you were now sick.

after a couple of days the symptoms of your cold had subdued a lot and you were left now with only a slight headache and the occasional sneezing but yunho was still treating you like you were made of glass, making time amidst his packed schedule to check on you and asking what you needed. his reasoning was that he felt guilty. thanks to him and his idea of going out you were now like this, and no matter how hard and how many times you tried to explain to him that it was okay (from reassuring him to “stop bugging me, i’m doing good!” three times a day) or how much his group members teased him, he was still firm, going as far as to run to the nearest convenience store after getting to your place and asking what you had for dinner and after you told him you were craving cookie dough ice cream.

“that’s right, that’s my favorite. thank you though, you didn’t have to…”

your voice faded with a slight groan when the weight of his body pressed down against yours on the couch because he was now hugging you like he had gone three days instead of twenty minutes. you stayed like that for a bit, taking in the smell of rain and the faintest trace of fabric softener from his clothes and the cold touch of his jacket against your fingers. as much as you liked acting like you were annoyed by him, you were very grateful that he was taking care of you, even if it was not his responsibility and he had other things to think about. you tightened your arms around his shoulders and just when he was about to complain, your sneeze made him jump from the couch with a mixture of playfulness and worry on his face. his fluffy hair near your nose had been the culprit of your sneeze but he looked ready to scold you like he had been doing the entire week.

“you know, you shouldn’t be eating that when you are still sick”

“i’m not, i promise. it’s just that doodle hair of yours, it tickles”

yunho brushed a hand through his hair, scanning you up and down with slightly frowned brows.

“okay fine, but if you’re eating the ice cream, you’re also taking the pill for that headache,” as you were about to protest, he turned on his heels and walked to the kitchen, “and i don’t wanna hear any complains”

you rolled you eyes at his back, amused over the fact that he was gentle and bright most of the time, but could also behave like a parent whenever he was worried. you stood up as well, walking over to your best friend and thanking him as he handed you a cup of water.

he sat down in front of you, eating in a comfortable silence for a while until he started telling you about his day and everything he had done. you looked at him and couldn’t help but feel a pinch of something in the pitch of your stomach while you listened to him and occasionally commented on his stories. with everything that had been going on these past few days you knew he wasn’t taking proper care of himself and it was obvious in the way his tired expression didn’t seem to vanish even after trying to hide it with smiles and mischief. his skin still had that very characteristic healthy glow, but he had the look of someone that hadn’t had a full eight hour sleep in weeks. he had the permanent expression of somebody who was worried, and every time he looked at you, it was like he was about to say something but decided not to. although you wanted to, you didn’t say anything. as much as you would like to ask if he was okay, you knew he would brush you off until he was ready to speak on it. so you let it go, and by the time you were finished joking around, it was almost four in the morning.

“are you going back to the dorm?,” you asked, voice laced with sleepiness, “you can stay here if you want. it’s too late to be on the streets now”

“or too early,” he jokingly corrected you before standing up and nodding, “okay, i have to be at the company by noon anyway, it’s closer from here”

you walked to your bedroom first with him following closely behind. he had clothes at your place from whenever he would stay over for the night so after getting changed, you both got into bed. it would seem strange for anybody that didn’t knew you, but you had been super close from the moment you met and by now, it was not a rare occurrence for you to sleep in the same space, wether that was your bed, his bed, the back seat of his group’s van or even their couch at their dorm. you ignored the fluttering on your chest when he looked over at you from under the bedsheets, with his dark eyes sparkling and the slight flush of his cheeks, a clear sign that he was getting sleepy.

you made yourself comfortable on the bed before reaching out and clearing his bangs from his forehead. it was was a sweet gesture, something you hadn’t done in a very long time.

“thank you for being here, yunho”

he nodded, still with the same odd sparkle in his gaze.

“it’s the least i can do for you”

#its not even a blurb or timestamp anymore #i just really love writing little snippets of very mundane situations #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yunho scenarios #ateez timestamps #yunho fluff

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

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ateez reaction: s/o asking them to stay/not to go in their sleep.

cw: mainly fluff slash angst for everyone and a tiny bit of suggestive content on wooyoung’s part. non-gendered terms for reader. yunho’s one is a bit longer than i intended it to be. basically a self indulgent piece because i’ve been in my feelings as of late.

07. hongjoong

it was late at night. it was one of those days where the night was so heavy with its silence and lack of light that you couldn’t hear a single noise coming from the streets. not the chatter of the young enjoying the night life, not the sounds of cars passing by, not even the sound of the wind hitting the windows. hongjoong walked down the hallway after running upstairs as silently as he could and finally entered your apartment, half wincing in response to the sharp tingling of his jewelry and the chirp coming from the door that inevitably broke the deep silence the room was in.

he found you sound asleep, curled in a ball on the couch and with a blanket half escaping from your grasp. he couldn’t help but notice the light frown and the heavy eye bags on your face, and the familiar sting of guilt hit him with force. he had promised he would be with you early that night, as he only needed to give the final touches to his newest music but just like many other times, he found himself immersed in his work and by the time he looked at the time, it was already past midnight. he felt bad. the worst part is that you were always so understanding and sweet to him, never taking it to heart although he know how worried you were seeing him visibly stressed and tired. he loved you, truly. for that and many other reasons, but each time he promised he would be with you and failed, he found himself thinking more and more that you would inevitably get tired and leave.

he laid down beside you, holding you close to his chest as gently as he could without waking you up. it was slightly uncomfortable as his back was pressed against the couch in a not so nice position but it wasn’t that bad after all, because you were there. you were finally in his arms and he felt like he could breathe again. he caressed your cheek with his thumb and you snuggled closer in your sleep. he tried to get up to take you to bed with him but you groaned, the frown getting deeper as your arms tightened around his waist.

"stay here a little bit longer, please. i missed you”

hongjoong remained silent, biting his lip and forcing down the small cry his throat so desperately wanted to let out. right then and there he promised to himself he would try harder to be there, for you.

03. seonghwa

if there was one thing seonghwa was grateful about was the opportunity to take his music to every corner of the world and showcase his artistry to millions of people. it had been his dream for so long that now that it was happening, he couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of his younger self who used to watch performances from seniors and daydream about succeeding one day. it was a good life, indeed. but with every good thing comes a sacrifice, and to be honest, it was more difficult with everyday that passed and he wasn’t with you. he had went on tour for almost three months now, and the mere thought of you was enough to leave him with a heavy heart and the crushing sensation of a missing piece.

ever since you formalized your relationship you were used to sleep together everyday, whether it was at his dorm or at your place, you hadn’t gone one day without waking up with his arms around your body and you were nowhere as fine as you'd often say in your texts or video calls in order not to worry him. he was having the same problem, but none of you wanted to make each other worried or make the longing even worse by letting the other know how badly you missed his hugs and he missed the scent of your hair, so the first time he came back, you couldn't help but jump right into his arms and cling onto him despite how tired you were after waiting for his flight to arrive, anxiously pacing on your living room with glossy eyes from the lack of sleep.

his hair was dyed black comparing to the last time you saw him in all his blonde beauty and his body felt different under your embrace, a little slender but more firm, but it was still your seonghwa. the same guy who would hug your hips so tight that you were grasping at his jacket, sitting on the couch, and the same guy who would whisper sweet nothings to your ear while rocking your bodies back and fort to help you sleep. soft, like a wave in the ocean.

"you're here" you mumbled under your breath, not fully awake anymore. it was your way to say just how much you missed him and how much you never wanted to leave his side.

23. yunho

your head was pounding and a silence so heavy had settled in the room after the last couple of hours. you didn’t know where yunho was and it was only you laying in bed. the tears had dried now on your face, but you still felt inconsolable, a different type of dispair running through your veins and making you anxious.

it hadn’t been a good day. it hadn’t been a good day in the slightest and you had just started to realize how messed up everything was. you and yunho had been fighting the whole time he had been at your place, many days of nitpicking and bickering at each other way too seriously for it to be a joke had taken a toll on you and you both had finally snapped. your relationship had gone downhill as of late, where even the smallest of things would make him frown at you and even the smallest of things would make you throw a slightly scathing word at him, making both of you so annoyed so as to forget why you had even gotten into a relationship in the first place.

if somebody were to ask you, you would never be able to pinpoint the exact moment you started to feel him drift away from you or the moment he could tell you just weren’t as happy around him anymore. it wasn’t a lack of love, that was for sure, but the differences in your character started to become more visible and to catch up to you. it was difficult as you couldn’t see him as much anymore and he swore you would be unreachable anytime he tried to get closer again. it all had snowballed and you were now here.

you heard the front door close and you turned around just in time to see yunho reenter the room. that wasn’t usual either. he had gone away to calm down almost an hour ago, and usually he would be the one insisting on talking things out in the moment. you were wary and scared deep inside, wondering if things were broken beyond repair but now that he was back, you felt his presence ease some of your worries. your eyes were so puffy and red from crying and his voice was hoarse from arguing, but still, none of you was willing to give up on the idea of sleeping together. no matter how horrible the fight had been, you both unconsciously knew you'd be better if you knew how the other was doing. even the lingering idea of breaking things up for good could never make you prefer sleeping alone.

that didn’t make things any easier, however. yunho laid down until the clock marked four in the morning, he hadn’t slept much and the lack of touching was almost physically painful. you were so close but he couldn’t reach you. at some point he stood up to the bathroom and by the time he came back he found your hand on his side of the bed and your cheeks wet with tears, but you were still fast asleep.

yunho was worried and he hurried back to bed when he heard your pained cry for him not to leave and the calling of his name. seeing you like that was enough to make him snap out of his angered daze. how could things go this far? how could he not notice how much you wanted to fix everything when it was obvious that even on your sleep you were still longing for him? how could he hurt you when you were the person he loved the most, that he cared about the most? yunho wrapped his arms around your frame and kissed the top of your head. you were still crying softly, slightly awake now that he was holding you so close to his body.

“i’m never leaving, you hear me?,” yunho’s voice brought some comfort to you, firm as it always was, “i’ll stay with you”

15. yeosang

it was a typical evening with your boyfriend and his group at his dorm after helping wooyoung and seonghwa cook some dinner and cleaning up the kitchen.

since the group divided into three different dorms, it was not uncommon for them to find a way to be together at home even after being together the entire day, filming and practicing, and most of the times you were there just hanging out with your partner, so now you were all scattered in the living room, some of them talking and playing games, some of them focused on the drama episode airing on the tv. you on the other hand were laying on the couch with your head on yeosang’s lap and his hand running through your hair after talking his ear out and teaming up with san for a while just to lovingly annoy your boyfriend with your antics. it was like a switch had shifted on you, one moment going on and on about your day and every little thought that crossed your mind and then not even a minute after, as silent as you could get, tired and almost completely falling asleep on him.

truth to be told, yeosang was already flustered and his bright pink cheeks were an indicator of it, same as everytime your displays of affection occurred in front of the boys and it became even worse because when he tried to get up and bring a blanket for you, you hugged his legs and buried your face on his thigh with a half asleep whine, earning everyone's curious gaze.

"baby, it's cold. I'll be right back"

you shook your head, and that’s when he knew you were still not fully conscious because if you were, you would be equally as flustered.

"no, don't leave me"

almost everyone scoffed, some of them going back to their business and some of them standing up to give you some privacy in case you wanted to sleep for real. yeosang gave up with a big sigh and ignoring yunho’s smirk, he lifted up your head only for a moment before sliding a cushion under it and hugging your shoulders from behind.

10. san

it was date night at your place, one of the very few times he had a day off and could spend as many hours as he wanted with you and the comfort of your hugs, and san could not be more excited, or at least he was until you started discussing your plans for the evening an actually acted on them.

you had insisted a lot in watching a horror movie despite his constant efforts to convince you to watch a romantic comedy instead, because despite claming out loud that he wasn't afraid of these type of movies, he knew his own body would betray him. he prided himself on being a tough guy, always in touch with his feelings but also very capable of protecting you and acting strong for you, but he also wasn’t afraid of admitting how little of a fan of horror he was. for the entirety of your relationship you had never been in this kind of situation and he was starting to get nervous, shifting on his seat as the starting credits started to roll in and the unsettling music from the film reached his ears.

little did he knew that after around one hour, you would be the one screaming at jumps cares, and he would be the one laughing at your reactions. he didn't want to be mean, so he wouldn't tease you too much, but even after it ended you were still trembling, eyes wide open and flushed cheeks as you reminisced some of the worst scenes in the movie. because of that, he wasn't at all surprised when in the middle of the night you straddled his lap and asked him to hug you tight and never let go. just in case the ghost from that movie would appear to take your souls, you know.

he laughed, of course. he pinched your cheek with a teasing glint in his eyes but still hugged your body so you could rest with your head in the crook of his neck.

09. mingi

mingi liked everything about you. from the way you talked with such passion about the topics you were interested in to the way you couldn’t hide the selflessness and kindness in your soul, he loved you for who you are. he always claimed that you cannot love someone based on what they do for you without loving them for their actual personality and way of thinking, and he truly loved those aspects of you. he wouldn’t lie, however. he also loved the way you treated him and went out of your way to care for him.

he knew how difficult his choice of career was in terms of social relationships. he didn’t have many friends outside from his childhood and celebrity friends because not everyone understood that, sometimes, he couldn’t be there as much as he would love to. that’s why it had been such a dealbreaker when he found you and realized that not only you were willing to understand and compromise, but you were also willing to be there and show up for him at every instance. he was the luckiest, and these type of thoughts filled his head whenever he saw you, like that day, late at night at the filming set. you had brought snacks for his staff and the other boys and had waited sitting patiently for him, even after the filming got delayed twice and everyone had left except for him and a couple of cameramen.

he was the last to film and he was worried about you, waiting for so long in the cold. hongjoong had brought you a blanket to cover yourself before and all of them had offered you a ride home, but you insisted on staying. as he made his way to you and crouched down to your height, he couldn’t help but notice the purplish undertone on your lips and the slight trembling of your hands even when asleep. mingi held your hands on his and your eyelids fluttered open for a second. you noticed the way his stern gaze wandered over your face and body and a faint smile made its way to your lips.

“you were amazing out there,” voice a little hoarse, and mingi’s thumb started to caress the back of your hand, “are you going back now?”

he shook his head and clutched his hand to your thigh, still worried but a little bit more at ease now that you were talking, “no, we’re done. we’re going to the dorm now, and you’re coming with me”

“good. i’ve missed you a lot, stay with me now”

mingi flashed a soft smile before standing up and taking you home with him.

26. wooyoung

it was a special night for more than one reason. wooyoung was happy to no extent, just like every time he got to spend time with you away from all your other friends and his own group mates.

you had been friends with wooyoung for longer than you could recall. your relationship had had the most ups and downs in all history of relationships because not only had he been super secretive about his real feelings for you, but you were also the most stubborn person ever and refused to accept the possibility of him liking you half as much as you liked him. in your head, it was simply not possible that someone like him would want to be with you, and it was not that you didn’t have a good self esteem, it was just that for you, his job and current lifestyle was far away from yours to truly connect.

that night you had opened up to him after impulsively kissing him on your kitchen, frustrated as you were with his mixed signals and uncertainty. he hadn’t stopped you, equally as eager as you to show you just how badly he had wanted to do exactly that, but it hadn’t stopped at a kiss, not at all. you ended up doing everything you had ever imagined and even more and now you were cuddled under clean bedsheets, thoughts still racing on your mind although your eyes were almost closed. you were using his arm as a pillow and since he had been patting your head for what felt like hours and your body was so tired after the past events you were so sleepy.

"can you please stay today?"

he almost didn't catch your words, still clouded with bliss from knowing you felt the same about him but the moment he did realize, he felt painfully aware of the fact you asked him to stay after sharing such an intimate experience and for a second he wondered what could've possibly happened to you that made you think he would just go. he tried to push away those thoughts in favour of caressing your face and assuring you, wearing his signature teasing smirk with a pinch of playful affection in his eyes that softened his whole expression. you had never seen him like this. your hair was scattered all over your face in an attempt to hide from his intense gaze and you looked incredibly cute to him, especially because you were breathing more slowly and he noticed how badly you were fighting your sleep. at times you were still so shy around him and he loved it, really.

"i would never leave, doll face"

12. jongho

being jongho’s partner wasn’t for the faint of heart. he was known for liking strolling around the streets and being busy, wether he was working or having a date with you so most of the times, your plans consisted of going out to eat and discover new places on your city, all while he was super chatty and sweet with you. as his partner you were always happy that he was the type to include you as much as he could in everything he did. as a homebody though, you were also happy whenever you got to stay at home with him. that night was one of those nights.

you had been cuddling for hours on end while watching movies, snacking on everything you could find and just overall hanging out with your boyfriend after a long day at work, and because you were so tired you fell asleep on his chest. he was surprised but didn’t move right away, just taking in the image of your tranquil face just resting, as pretty as he thought you were. something like that had never happened because the two of you had always been careful around each other since your relationship was fairly new and you hadn't sleep at each other's place just yet. he knew he wanted to, especially now after seeing you so adorable in his arms with your warm body so close to his, but he just couldn't ignore the sting on his chest at the thought of maybe making you uncomfortable if he just let it slide and fell asleep too. he knew a lot about you already, and trusted you enough to know what type of reaction you would have, but just in case, he didn’t want to overstep any boundary.

he was about to wake you up so he could get up and let you rest on your own bed, but you tightened your arms around his waist and his face flushed red when he caught your sleepy eyes looking back at him. soft eyelashes brushing against soft cheeks with every slow blink and jongho’s heartbeat could be heard by anyone a mile around. he had been so busy looking at your face and the way you body just seemed to fit perfectly against his that he didn’t noticed when you woke up.

"maybe stay tonight?"

he swore his heart melted.

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #hongjoong scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #yunho scenarios #yeosang scenarios #san scenarios #mingi scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jongho scenarios #ateez angst #if u like my work please help me with a reblog

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

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hello! it’s been so long since the last time i came to visit this account to post (i believe since kingdom era?) and i’ve been wanting to pick up the habit of writing again since my physical and mental state is a lot better now, so i think i’m back for good.

requests are open, i do appreciate a lot the attention showed to my previous timestamps so i’m hoping this will go okay! as always i hope everyone who’s reading this has a good day :)

#ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #kpop smut #writing #ateez timestamps

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

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23:08PM—.

cw: soft!dom wooyoung x afab reader. although there's no gendered terms, there's A LOT of pet names. slight choking. slight exhibitionism. slight dumbification. hand job. praising. dirty talk. overall sweetness? kinda.

"what is it, love?"

wooyoung's voice made its way to your ears through the thick silence in the room, only interrupted by the constant buzzing of his phone from the game he was playing with one hand, while the other was busy toying with the ripped fabric of your jeans, occasionally brushing your skin with his finger pads.

you were sitting by his side on the couch, body slightly stiff and ears slightly red. the night was slowly coming to an end after having had an equally noisy and filled with laughter dinner with your boyfriend and his seven group members. one would think that after that you would be tired and looking forward to sleep, but you weren't. you weren't, because after weeks of promotion of their latest release (which meant, weeks of not seeing wooyoung), you were finally with him and his company right now was doing more to you than only calming the anxiety that you both felt without the other in previous days.

he couldn't tell, or maybe he could, but he had been working you up the entire night with whispered words when nobody was looking, lingering touches in the right places (your wrists, the small of your back, the strands of hair he was so eager tu pull behind your ear, and even your lower tummy when hugging you from behind), and his more-stunning-than-ever looks. whether it was his intention or not, you couldn't tell either, but now that everybody was in their rooms with only seonghwa in the shower and getting ready to sleep, your body was reacting to his in ways you couldn't even start to comprehend. you blamed it in the feeling of longing and the loneliness you felt for so long, but even the smallest caress of his fingers on top of your knee would take your breath away.

and judging by the sly smirk in his face, he knew.

instead of answering you looked down at his hands on your lap. his pretty, veiny and somewhat tanned hands, that were always so careful when touching you. you almost choked when he squeezed your soft thigh to get your attention, and when you looked up, you recognized the glint of mischief in his eyes.

"what is my baby thinking? you're very quiet today," the sing-song tone in his voice wasn't going away and you frowned.

"you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?," you looked significantly at the bathroom door a few meters down the hallway, "because you know we can't do anything right now?"

"what do you mean, what am i doing? does my hand on your leg bother you that much? besides..." he drew himself closer to your body, smile growing wider when you tried to press your back to the couch to avoid him, "... who said we can't do anything?"

the scandalized look on your face made him chuckle, not too loud, but still loud in the depth of the night. he retreated to his original place and patted his own thigh, singling you to sit on it. you hesitated again, gaze going from his inviting eyes to the bathroom door and viceversa time and time again.

"c'mon, he's only entered now and he takes his sweet time to shower. you're not gonna get caught"

after a few more seconds you nodded and straddled his thigh, purposefully ignoring the word you in his last sentence, knowing fully well he was teasing you and ignoring his antics would throw him off. you placed your weight carefully on his leg and your hands on his chest, always conscious as to not to accidentally hurt him. you looked down at his face and sighed, feeling more at ease with the proximity of his body and his smiley face a few inches away from yours.

he then kissed you, hands instantly placing themselves on your hips and tongue poking out to tease your lower lip. you groaned, allowing him to control the kiss while you busied yourself with locking one of your hands on the shorter hair of his nape and yanking at it from time to time, enjoying the sounds he made with particularly harsh tugs. it all escalated quickly, and you broke the kiss with a whimper, leaning your forehead in his when he started rocking your body back and forth over his leg, softly at first. you were both fully clothed, meaning the tight fabric of your pants wasn't helping you to get the friction you knew you needed, but the sudden force with which he guided your movements created enough pressure for you to moan in his mouth.

you blindly reached out to his crotch, finding his almost rock hard erection confined inside his sweats.

"take it out, pretty one," his voice startled you but you were quick to obey. one nervous glance of yours to the door and wooyoung smiled, eyes dark and amused by your speed despite the hesitance still bubbling in your throat.

"that's right, good job..." he threw his head back with a groan when you started pumping him, smearing the thick pearled drop of precum over his head and even spitting on your hand in a show of boldness, which caused him to look at you with wide, lustful eyes and help you pick up the pace of your hips "you're doing a good job my little pet"

the praise caught you off guard, so you let your head fall on the crook of his neck for a few moments, eyelids droopy and lips plump and red from biting so hard. wooyoung grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a passionate kiss and you then let more of your weight fall on his thigh, the pressure on your clit almost unbearable.

it was messy, spit and tongue here and there, and if the wet sounds of your kissing didn't alerted seonghwa of something going on outside, the moans and groans slipping past yours and your lover's lips sure did. you didn't knew why, but the thought of wooyoung's friend hearing the whole thing made your stomach flip wildly and your boyfriend noticed, taking notes on the way your muscles contracted and you started to loose control in your hand.

his lips trailed down the side of your neck, nibbling and sucking as to suffocate his own pleasure sounds a little bit. he was then back to your ear and as his hand sneaked up to wrap around your throat, he whispered.

"you do like this, don't you sweetheart? you like that he might be hearing you using me to get off?," you choked back a cry, the pressure of his thumb enough to cut a little the air influx yet you still managed to nod, lightheaded as you were and vision so clouded by pleasure that you wouldn't even mind having everyone seeing you at that moment, "my dumb little thing, you can't even answer me properly"

you were both almost there, hanging from a cliff and waiting for sweet release as he was practically fucking himself into your hand and at this rate, your hips didn't had any sort of rhythm or even a pattern, just erratic movements in the chase of your high.

"he could be out any moment now, pet," he kissed your jaw, still holding your neck and pressing harder with every second, "he would see you so fucked out, so pretty for me"

that was your last straw, the ringing in your ears was deafening and a new trail of curses and breathy moans leaving your mouth as you came made wooyoung twitch in your hand, your voice was the sweetest melody in his ears and being able to hear you and see you like this —lips parted, cheeks tinted and so tired, yet so satisfied— was the only thing he needed to finish in your grasp, letting go of your neck in the process.

"fuck, baby" he whined at the now white coated pants and shirts and you laughed as you regained composure and evened your breath, "thanks for this though"

you rested your head on his shoulder with closed eyes, trying to relax for a bit and finding it impossible when a chuckle made your boyfriend's chest vibrate.

"need some help down there, hwa?"

a sheepish groan was his only answer.

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crestfallenyh · 2 years ago

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8:23AM—.

"don't forget to eat something before you leave!"

hongjoong let out a small giggle at the purplish post-it adhered to the pristine surface that the dining table in the middle of your small, practical kitchen was. a cup of tea with milk and —most likely— tons of sugar was also waiting for him and he sleepily rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, his heart slowly warming up when he noticed the lingering essence of the coffee you probably you just had, because you had taken the time to make him a hot drink since you knew he couldn't really drink bitter things.

it was a small detail, and it most definitely had happened in the past, but it still brought the faintest trace of a smile to his lips, smile that didn't go away even as he finished his quick breakfast and got up to get ready for work.

it wasn't usual for him to stay at your place in days where his schedule was packed, because although he liked it a lot more than his own dorm full of noisy (and nosy, too) guys, it was further from the company's building. he could've sacrificed his precious hours of sleep if that meant he could spend some alone time with you, but more often than not he found himself nagged by either you or his members. so the rare moments he could actually get you to himself for an entire night away from everyone else, it was impossible for him not to be happy.

particularly the evening before you had been a lot more cuddly, and the reminiscing feeling of your lips over his and your fingers tracing delicate figures over the exposed skin of his chest still made him tremble. you had warned him though, that you probably wouldn't be there when he woke up because you needed to be at work first thing in the morning, so he wasn't upset. just a little worried, because as he walked by the window, he could see heavy raining hitting the window panes.

not even two steps into the bathroom and an even wider grin settled on his sharp features. almost anywhere he looked, there was a star-shaped, heart-shaped, and even apple-shaped post-it with a cheesy message or a cute drawing in it. from pastel colors to neon shades of orange and green, he couldn't stop looking with wide eyes.

he grasped the closest note to him, which happened to be the one on top of the toothpaste cap. its bright pink color burned in the back of his eyes, yet he still laughed at your attempt of drawing small hearts all over the paper.

"i wanted to wake you up, but you looked like you needed a lot of sleep. see you later?"

he could tell by the way your handwriting looked just a little more smudged with every note he found, that you had had a pretty rushed morning. probably running from here to there, he even wondered if you had overslept and the sole thought made him chuckle. he couldn't stop giggling, thinking you were absolutely adorable.

although he hadn't been awake to say goodbye and wish you a good day properly, he still felt your love through your words and actions. it were things like this, seemingly small but meaningful acts that helped get him through exhaustive hours of recording and producing at the studio, filming new contents and even practicing the group's choreographies, all of it while still being in a good mood only to find you waiting for him at home after you both were done with your day.

he was practically bouncing on his feet as he made his way to the door, picking up an umbrella from the coat rack and folding carefully between his finger one last (or so he thought) note. a blue one, square shaped.

"take this with you, we wouldn't want you to catch a cold ):"

not long after the company's black van stopped in front of your building, the door opening to reveal his teammates and manager waiting for him to get on. he greeted them and soon enough the sound of eight voices overlapped with each other as all of them tried to update him on what happened in his absence. however, san's voice resonated louder from one moment to the other, making him blush and the rest of the members cackle.

"i love you, my moon and stars?"

frozen to the core, hongjoong only could blink one, two, three times in a row. "come again?"

san shrugged and pointed at the back of hongjoong's long trench coat. he hurried to take off the post-it he missed in his rush to get out of your house in time and gave them an embarrassed glare, ignoring the giggling and instead slipping the piece of paper in his pocket. he got his phone out, typing a message and immediately smiling when the delivered and read marks appeared on the screen, one after the other.

"from: hj.

my coat, really? ㅋㅋㅋ i love you too, doll face. thank you for the breakfast and the notes, see you at home yeah? xx"

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crestfallenyh · 3 years ago

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summer's end (j.yh)

summary: sequel to summer nights -- he’s your best friend and roommate, and the lines are starting to get pretty blurry between casual sex and emotions.

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // i genuinely could not get the idea of these idiots being super in love and never talking about it and just being generally dumb about it, the rest is just self indulgent boyfy yunho. please enjoy x

warnings: best friend!yunho, fem!reader, and they were roommates, oral (f receiving), fingering, cockwarming (kind of?), rough sex, impact play, marking/bruising, emotional sex, angsty sex, dirty talk/use of pet names, praise, dacryphilia if you squint, classic big dick yunho, idiots miscommunicating and arguing, also super fluffy emotional soft smut - it's really a mixed bag here. please let me know if I missed any.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: college non idol au; seriously shameless smut, angst, hurt/comfort vibes, fluff

word count: 7.7K

my masterlist || read on AO3

It starts off with a bet, again. It was a challenge to each other nose to nose in the kitchen, several drinks deep with the last heat wave of summer bearing down and keeping you both distracted and wearing next to nothing. When you found out he was counting the number of times he’s successfully made you come since your first experiment two months prior, you decided he was being just a little too full of himself and you needed to make things interesting. What you didn’t anticipate is where you’d be now, and how hard it would be to win said bet.

Yunho is relaxed against the headboard, sitting fully up at an almost ninety-degree angle. You’re straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist and locked behind him, his cock buried inside you, stiff and warm. He tenses his abdominal muscles, making his cock twitch inside you and you bite your inner cheek to keep from making a sound. His expression is smug, playful and cocky, the tip of his tongue pressing into his cheek. He squeezes your hips with his large hands, his thumbs caressing the crease at the top of your thighs.

“I can do this all day,” he smiles, and tenses again.

You shift your hips the smallest amount and sigh a low exhale through your nose, “So can I,”

“Mhm,” he nods, “sure you can.”

“I don’t know,” you take the opportunity to pull his t-shirt that you had been wearing over your head and toss it aside. His eyes flick down to your now bare breasts, nipples pebbled and hard, and you watch him swallow and blink before looking back up to meet your eyes. You stretch above him, running your hands through your hair and pushing it back over your shoulders, moving your hands down your chest to cup your own breasts and give them a subtle squeeze.

“Tease,” he shakes his head.

“That’s kind of the point,” you nudge him in the ribs.

“Mm,” he’s barely listening, he slides one hand over your stomach to splay his fingers wide, carefully flexing them and noting how from thumb to pinky finger he covers the full expanse of you. He pushes you with his hand a little, silently communicating that he wants you to lean away from him and you do, reaching back with one hand to brace on his thigh.

He runs his hand up from your stomach to your chest, passing down again slowly over your sternum, fingertips tracing your curves until he’s low and brushing over your pubic bone.

“Let’s make it more interesting,” he says while he touches you softly, “instead of first to move loses, how about first to come?”

Your eyes widen at his suggestion, “You’ll lose though,”

“Wow,” he rolls his eyes, “that’s overconfident of you,”

“You’re so easy though!” you exclaim, “I’m always the one that needs some warming up,”

“I’m pretty sure I can hold out,” he smirks again, “plus, you forget I can feel how wet you are. You’re warmed up.”

“What do I get if I win?” You divert him, pushing off his leg to come back to a normal sitting position before leaning closer to him and resting your arms around his neck.

“Movie night, all your choices,” he offers.

“And if you win?”

“You finally let me teach you how to play Valorant,” he insists, “and you have to actually give it a try, not just watch me replay it.”

“How many movies?” You clarify.

“Three,” he offers.

You grin, “Deal,”

“First to come loses then,” he quirks an eyebrow, shifting to hold out a hand for you to shake.

You laugh, rolling your eyes again, but you accept his hand, giving it one firm shake and putting on your most serious expression.

Once you return the hand to his chest, he sighs, “Finally, now come here,” he tugs your arms and brings you closer, capturing your mouth. His arms wind around you, one around your back and the other slipping down low over your hip and under your ass to hold you firm. He bucks his hips, thrusting his cock deeper into you and groans against your mouth.

“I knew it,” you murmur between kisses.

He shuts you up with a harder kiss, hungry, his hands roaming over your skin and pressing on every little spot he’s learned you love.

“Come here,” he breaks away, pushing you backwards again and dipping his hand down again to massage your clit in tender circles with the rough pad of his thumb.

A coil of pleasure wraps tighter inside you, and you sigh, “That’s good,” you tell him, “but you know I never come like that,”

“Wrong,” he shakes his head, pressing a little more firmly with his thumb.

The added pressure makes you moan, soft and breathy, “What do you mean, wrong?” For all the times you’ve had sex, you rarely come from fingering alone.

“I’ve figured it out,” he smiles, holding your gaze, “you come the easiest when I’m inside you, all you need is me to stuff you full and then it’s like clockwork.”

You sputter at his words, the crass frankness doing nothing but adding to the growing needy sensation inside you. When you don’t respond and he realizes you’re flustered, he grins, “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?” You clench your muscles down on his cock and his eyes slip closed for just a moment as he relishes the sensation.

“All you needed,” he says, pushing off the headboard and gathering you in his arms, shifting so that he’s cross legged under you and sinking his cock as far as it will go inside you, “was something my size to get you just right.”

You rock your hips, dragging him in and out softly, “Yunho, you’re incredibly full of yourself,” you tease him, even though you’re pretty sure he’s right.

One of his hands comes to the side of your face, his fingertips along your jaw, bringing your gaze to him. “You know what I think?” He says, and his thumb catches against your bottom lip, “I think these other boys weren’t fucking you right.”

A deep spike of heat lances through you at his words, and he smiles when he feels your muscles contract around him. He slides his hands down to cup your backside, easily pulling you up and down again on his hard length and you can’t stop the broken little moan that bubbles up from inside you. “I think,” he continues, moving one of his hands to cover your lower stomach again, “you needed to feel something here.” He presses down firmly with his fingers and rocks his hips, building tight heat inside you.

“Fuck,” you stammer, “when did you get so mouthy?”

“I don’t know,” he grins and pulls you in for a kiss, dragging his tongue along yours before breaking the lip lock and leaning his forehead against yours, “you make me insane, y/n, I swear to God.”

“Yeah?” You kiss him sweetly, nuzzling against him and running your hands along his back, up to his soft locks.

“You know you do,” he murmurs, “I can’t get enough of you,”

The way he maneuvers between dirty talk and soft, borderline romantic, assurances always puts you in a dizzy spiral. Every time you slept together it was getting harder and harder to stop wanting him, even now you find yourself daydreaming about it, the life you might be able to have together, but you know for him it’s just sex, practiced safely within the bounds of your quarantine bubble.

“Yunho,” you sigh against him, pulling him as close to you as you can, every inch of available skin you can press together you do. The light buzz you were feeling earlier is wearing off, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling emotional now. Dipping your head into his shoulder you kiss him softly and rest here.

His arms wind tighter around you, his hand running up and down your back soothingly, “Hey,” he murmurs, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale against him, but stay hiding out of his direct view, “I’m good,”

He turns his head slightly, pressing his cheek against your head, “Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

“Yeah,” you nod, one of the first real lies you’ve ever told him.

“Okay,” he strokes your back again, “but you seem… off all of a sudden.”

You pull away, meeting his eyes and giving him another kiss, “It’s nothing, sometimes it’s just a little overwhelming,” you tell him, and that at least is honest.

“Intimate,” he nods, stroking your face with his thumb softly, his hand cupping your neck, “I get it,”

“Yeah?”

He nods, holding you close and kissing you tenderly, “Yeah,” he shifts again, maneuvering you down to your back on the bed, his cock never leaving you as he rolls on top of you and sinks further down, gathering you close in his arms, “you let me do anything to you,” He thrusts once and you can’t help but arch against him, “I let you do anything to me,” he thrusts again.

You grip his broad shoulders, wrap your legs around him as he presses into you. He kisses you again before murmuring hot against your skin, “we trust each other,”

You nod against him, “Yeah,”

He stops moving his hips, leaning back from your face and smoothing back your hair. He grins, cheeky and playful once more, “You’re so soft for me, look at you,”

He makes you laugh, of course he does, and you swallow down the tender moment, locking it away somewhere far deep inside you. You’d analyze that later, the way that the feeling of him filling every space of you and confessing tender words made your stomach twist. The lines are getting blurry and messy, but right here when he makes you laugh, you push it away and refocus.

“Please,” you peck a kiss against his face, run teasing fingers down his sides, “you’re the one who’s soft for me.”

“Probably,” he smirks, quirking an eyebrow and jutting his hips sharply to push his cock deeper inside of you again.

“Fuck,” you manage.

“Can’t take me?” He pulls out at least halfway before snapping his hips into you again.

You keen, gripping him for purchase, but keep your head clear. If he’s maneuvering this back to the bet, at least you could focus on that and winning to keep your mind off the way his eyes turn soft and tender sometimes when you come, the way he croons praises against the hollow of your ear when he pushes you over the edge into an orgasm, the way he calls you baby, sweetheart, pretty, his girl.

Blinking clear you push up on his shoulders, “Yunho, get off,”

“What?” he looks down at you, confusion all over his face.

“Get off me,” you gesture with your head, and he pulls out and off you immediately.

He’s not an easy man to manhandle, being so much taller and broader than you, but you slide over to the side and push his shoulders again, to get him to lay down on the bed. He realizes after a second that you’re just trying to switch positions, and his expression clears, he chuckles as you push him into the position you want. You push the pillows off the side of the bed, and he lays perfectly flat against the mattress, his long legs spread out and touching each corner of the bed, one hand comes to prop up his head.

“What’s this?” He teasingly asks.

You straddle him immediately, hovering your entrance over his stiff cock, letting the head press gently into your hole, “You had your turn.”

“I didn’t know there was a time limit,” he says, but hisses when you start to drop down on him.

His eyes are glued to the spot where you connect and the way your body takes him, his lips parting softly. “Just be quiet,” you hush him, shifting up and down his length.

“You need to focus?” He murmurs, but you clench your muscles around him intentionally and he lets out a broken pant.

You secure your hands in the center of his chest and start to work your hips, swiveled circles into a smooth pace. The feeling of him is perfect like this, touching every deep soft part inside of you, but you know for him it makes him crazier. He can never get enough of you on top, the sight alone of you bouncing up and down above him enough to get him close, let alone the sensation of your tight channel around him.

“Like I said,” you tease him, “you’re too easy.”

He’s about to respond, but you shift a hand on his chest and pass your thumb directly over his nipple. His eyes screw shut, and he groans, you know that if you work him just right you can get him there. You lower yourself down, shifting so you can still bounce your hips, and gently pass the tip of your tongue over his hardened nipple.

“Jesus,” his hands grip your hips hard, and you smile against his skin, darting your tongue out again to flick it, this time much more firmly. He shifts his legs, coming to plant his feet flat on the bed, his knees up behind you so he can thrust himself into you at the pace he needs.

With one hand teasing his left nipple and your tongue teasing his right, it’s a matter of moments. You moan against him, tensing your muscles again, and shift to look up at him as best you can in this position, “Yun,” you pant, “please, baby, will you fill me up?”

His hips stutter, his pace faltering and his mouth drops open, “Oh, fuck,”

“I need it,” you double down, “Yunnie, please,”

At your intentionally wanton moan his hands on your hips shift and he pulls you up and off him, his hands pushing yours away from his chest and maneuvering you to hover above him. He’s panting, a sheet of sweat on his forehead and you can feel how tense he is beneath you, but he caught himself just in time. You think for a moment that he might have a retort on the tip of his tongue, but instead he just pulls you forwards, “Get the fuck up here,” he directs, and drags your body up his.

You’re not sure where he’s going until he shimmies down between your thighs and buries his face into your wet heat. The sudden intensity has you reeling, and you collapse forwards, gripping the headboard for support and trying to hold yourself up above him.

Yunho devours you like he’s starving, his tongue moving from pressing inside you, to running the length of your slit, focusing precise flicks and sucks against your clit. Pleasure bubbles in your belly and you try to move off and away from him, but his hands lock down firmly over your thighs and force you further down against his mouth. He pushes your body with his hands, rocking you against his mouth, his nose bumping perfectly against your swollen clit.

“Yunho,” you grit your teeth and try to ignore the desperate vibrations of pleasure rolling up your body, “Fuck,”

He chuckles against you, working you harder and barely taking a breath. His hands slip around to palm the soft flesh of your ass, squeezing expertly and surely leaving bruises. One of his hands caresses the softest part, massaging it gently, before his hand lifts and drops down with an expert spank before returning to massage the spot. You shudder out a moan, feeling your thighs shake around him.

He breaks away from your clit for just a moment, taking a breath, “That’s what you really sound like,” he punctuates his remark with another slap, “that’s what I want to fucking hear.”

You choke out another moan, and he delivers another slap, firmer this time and you can feel yourself tense and jump above him.

“Baby,” he spanks you once more, “look at me.”

Your eyes fly open, and you look down between your legs. You can only see the top half of his face from where he’s buried beneath you, against you, but you can still tell he has a grin on his lips from the way his eyes crinkle up, pleased with himself. He delivers a sharp lick to your clit and slaps you once more, “I want you to watch me make you come,” he says, palming your ass again tightly, “keep your eyes on me.”

You have half a mind to listen, bet nearly forgotten as he returns his mouth to your swollen clit, his eyes open and locked on yours, his hands tight and holding you to him. When you rock your hips involuntarily, chasing a particular strike of pleasure that runs from your clit to your chest, he moans against you, pushing your hips to have you rock again.

When your eyes flutter shut, he delivers a punishing slap, and you refocus your eyes on him. You’re painfully close, you want to will your body to move, keep him from winning, but when one of his hands slides further around you to push two fingers inside you, everything is forgotten.

One of your hands drops from the headboard to wind into his hair, pulling on him gently as you rut your hips softly against his tongue, his fingers pistoning in and out of your wet aching heat at a punishing speed.

“Yun, please,” you cry out, “please let me come,”

His pace doesn’t slow, and when your body can’t take anymore, it tips you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is desperate, a panting sob as you rock against his mouth, gripping his hair a little too hard as your mind blanks out. You collapse over him, lifting away from his face as you hold the headboard for some semblance of support, your body shaking.

He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before sliding out from underneath you and coming to settle behind you, pulling your boneless body back into his arms, “Feel good, baby?”

“So amazing,” you confirm, but as he wraps his arms around you, you can still feel the way your clit is pulsing, and you’re desperate and hungry for more.

“I think,” he murmurs into your hair, his hands coasting across your slick skin, “this means I win.”

“Yunho,” you shake your head, “I don’t care,”

“What?” he looks down at you in his arms.

"I’ll play whatever game you want for however long, I don’t care,” you reach back and grip whatever part of him you can find, holding him against you, “I need you to fuck me right now.”

He grips you tighter, “Yeah?”

“Please,” you arch a little in his arms, “I have to,”

He doesn’t answer, but moves back on the bed, dragging you with him before tipping you forward onto all fours. His hands do all the work, shifting your body into the position he needs. He presses down on the center of your back and makes you arch for him before pushing your knees apart a little wider.

“You want me?” you feel the head of his cock press into you, just an inch or two.

“Now, now, please,” you’re delusional, panting, pressing back into him.

He sinks himself inside you, pressing in and staying still for a few moments, letting the thick deep feeling of him wash over you again. At this angle he is torturously deep, almost too much to take, and he knows it.

Yunho collapses down over you, forcing your hips down towards the mattress, and he tugs one of your legs up so that you’re bent at the knee, opening yourself up wider for him. “I’ll never get tired of this,” he groans, pumping into you slowly and kissing the side of your face that is turned towards him.

A whine slips through your lips, your hands tightening on the sheets beneath you. He smiles against your skin, panting, his hands running up and down your sides as he rolls his hips into you. “No one takes me like you,” he whispers hot against your ear.

You moan, reaching back to touch any part of his skin that you can, your eyes shut tight as he works you up to your second orgasm.

“Fuck,” he breathes, slowing his pace for a minute, “I’m too close, give me a second,”

Your eyes flutter open, in your periphery you can see him pressed against you, his forehead against your temple, a smile on his face. “Too good?” You murmur, teasing him.

“You know it is,” he laughs, and shifts so he can capture your lips. It’s an uncomfortable position for a kiss, barely logistically possible, but you don’t care. He kisses you with passion, like he always does, his hand caressing your hair and ghosting down your shoulders, tongue dipping into your mouth and letting you taste yourself on him.

He breaks away, sighing against you and letting you settle your head back comfortably on the mattress, but he keeps his head close to yours, his mouth by your ear again. He starts to rock his hips faster again, isolated snaps downwards into you like he just can't help himself. Yunho groans against you, “All I want,” he kisses your ear, “is to feel you like this forever,”

His words make you clench, and he continues, “Would you do that, sweetheart?” He croons, brushing your hair away from the side of your face and neck with his free hand so he can kiss your skin, “Would you let me have you like this forever?”

“Please,” you stutter out, but the intimacy of his words rushes over you. The feeling of him stretching you deliciously, filling you and brushing against that tender part inside of you, and his whispered words send you spiraling.

“God, I,” his hand tightens on your hip, “love this, love your body, look at how you take me,”

The word love against your ear does it, emotions swimming up again and making this harder and harder. You twist beneath him, hiding your face in the sheets, letting the curtain of your hair come down and conceal you so he can’t see the way you blink back the sudden rush of tears. You can’t take much more. “Harder,” you choke out, needing him to give you space, needing to feel him everywhere and push these thoughts away.

His upper body lifts away from you, “Is that what you want?” He thrusts into you to punctuate his words, hard and deep.

Your legs are shaking, breath nearly knocked out of you, and you nod, frantic and wanting, “Harder, please, harder,”

At your cries, he obliges. Yunho shifts positions, his forearm across your shoulders, forcing you harder against the bed and his other hand bracing on the mattress beside you. Every deep push of him inside you has you coming apart at the seams, pleasure hot and tight inside you, the sound of skin connecting on skin with every downward snap of his hips.

He’s muttering curses, panting, sweat across his brow, and he moans when you clench down around his length before managing, “Let me see you, baby,”

You’re biting down hard on your lower lip, forehead safely tucked into the mattress, tears still in your eyes though you’re not sure if they’re from his whispered tenderness or the sharp pleasure radiating up your body. Either way, you can’t face him. “Harder,” you beg again, “Yunho, please,”

“God,” he chokes, his pace faltering, “baby, if I fuck you any harder, I might literally break you in half,” he laughs lightly and pulls up and out of you completely, repositioning.

“I don’t care,” you shake your head, pushing your body back up to all fours and arching deep to open yourself up, “I’m so close, I need it,”

He uses his fingers to help guide his cock back inside you, tugging your hips back to sink in completely. “That’s what you want?”

“Yes, please,” you press your body back into him, begging him to pick up the pace. You’re past wanting him to be soft, past wanting him to be funny. You want him to pull you apart, to push any thoughts out of your mind, to make impossible to feel anything but him.

Moments ago, you weren’t sure if he could go any harder, any faster, but the pace he’s setting now is relentless. The sound is lewd, your choked moans, his heavy breaths and pants, skin connecting, the bed creaking, the wet sound of you abused core.

At a particularly sharp thrust you collapse forwards with a cry. He winds a hand into your hair and pulls you up to steady you, but his hand doesn’t leave your scalp. “Let me see you,” he asks again, but this time he takes control, pushing your hair off your face and into his hand.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him.

“Are you close?” he manages.

You try to nod, constricted by his hand in your hair, and he yanks you up, far enough that your hands can’t reach the mattress anymore. He holds you suspended, one of his large hands coming to hold you by your stomach and keep you up, the other in your hair, and he leans back to perch you on his hips. The loss of control ties the knot inside you tighter, the sound of his broken breath and the feeling of his hands on you brings you right up to the edge.

“I’m,” he starts, and you feel his hand across your front tighten. The hand in your hair slips, and for just a moment you feel like you’re going to fall forwards, but he wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He holds you with a bruising grip, thrusting recklessly upwards as best he can from his position on his knees. He bites down on your shoulder when he comes, desperate and hazy, his release hot inside you.

He barely recovers before he’s pressing a hand between your legs. He doesn’t pull out or shift positions, just secures his middle and ring fingers to your clit and starts to circle them, harsh and quick. The tip over the edge is immediate, your body spasming without control as you arch against him, your nails digging into his forearm and thigh. Your head is back against his shoulder, his lips at your ear again, “There she is,” he pants, his fingers never stilling to help you ride it through.

The sound that leaves you is broken and somewhere between a cry and a moan, tears rushing hot down your temples, your legs shaking. “That’s my pretty girl,” he soothes you, slowing his hand once he’s sure you’ve come, easing you down before removing his hand entirely and instead just holding you against him.

As you blink your eyes open you can feel that you’re both shaking, bodies slick with sweat and weak from the exertion. Yunho’s breath starts to even out, and he kisses the side of your face, humming pleasantly, satisfied. The ringing in your ears from the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had starts to fade, and your brain starts to connect with the whispered words against your temple.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, stroking your skin, “I love watching you come,”

You don’t respond, you can’t. He recovers enough to lift you off him, before he slides out from under you and collapses into the sheets with a deep exhausted sigh. He looks up to you, eyes expectant, and you know he thinks you’ll just cuddle up to his chest, fall asleep like always, but you don’t. You get off the bed, legs weak but still working, and head straight to the bathroom, shutting the door tight behind you. You throw the sink on high, letting the sound of the water hopefully muffle up the tears that are bubbling back up. This night had started out fun, cooking in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine, traded jabs loaded with innuendo and hasty kisses. In the middle somewhere it turned into a different kind of wanting.

It takes a few minutes to recover, but when the sudden rush of tears fades, you take a few deep breaths and resolve to go back. It wasn’t really his fault that you were falling in love with him. After the first time, you had convinced yourself so perfectly that you could compartmentalize it, that the feelings you had for him were because you were friends, and friends cared about each other, but you were never very good at separating sex and emotions.

You finish up quickly, using the toilet, splashing cold water on your face, and wrapping your hair up into a bun. You pull on your robe that hangs on the back of his bathroom door and tie it tight around you. Your hips hurt, your legs are weak and sore, and you’re glad the robe covers the bloom of bruises on your thighs. You finish cleaning yourself up and pull the door open to step back into the bedroom.

Yunho’s sitting on the edge of the bed, boxers back on, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes downcast. When he hears you reenter the room his head snaps up, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a little confused, “why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He looks instantly relieved and reaches for you, “You disappeared and didn’t say anything,”

“I just wanted to get cleaned up,” you tell him, and that’s not entirely untrue. You move across the room to him, where he reaches out to you and let him pull you into his arms.

He’s gentle now, his hands softly holding your hips, massaging little circles into them through the fabric of your robe. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“No,” you shake your head, resting your hands on top of his, “no, it was good,”

“Okay,” he turns his hands and intertwines your fingers, leans forward and presses a kiss to your chest where the robe is parted, “come here then,”

“Yunho,” you say, with no real plan, you just know that getting back in bed with him and letting him hold you is going to break you in two.

He looks up at you, squeezes your hands and furrows his brow, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you assure him.

“So come to bed,” he tugs your hands gently to coax you forwards but you don’t move.

“Yunho,” you shake your head, dropping your eyes, your voice small. Maybe it was now or never, maybe you could say it and your friendship would survive it. Maybe you could go back to being roommates, friends and nothing more. You swallow tightly and meet his eyes, “I think we should stop.”

You weren’t prepared for the look of abject panic that crosses his face, “What are you talking about?”

You break your hands apart, stepping away to get some distance, “I think we should stop having sex,”

“What just happened?” he says, standing and crowding you again, taking your face in his warm hands, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” you shake your head, taking his hands in yours and pulling them away from your face.

“I mean, something’s going on,” he interrupts, reaching for you again, “because twenty minutes ago we were having some of the most intense sex of my life, and now you’re saying let’s stop. So, either I hurt you and you’re not telling me, or something’s going on with you, and I’ve got to be honest I’m really hoping it’s the latter.”

“You didn’t,” you assure, but keep him at arm’s length, “Yunho, I promise.”

He looks you over head to toe and nods, “Then tell me why you won’t come to bed,”

Tightness builds in your throat, but you push it down, “I just... I thought about it, and I think we should stop fucking around.”

When you look back up to him, his jaw is set tight. He shakes his head, “Is that what we’ve been doing? Fucking around?”

“What?”

You’ve never seen him so worked up before, and he locks eyes with you to ask again, “Is that all we’ve been doing, just fucking around?”

“I don’t understand,” you manage.

“We spend all day together, we eat dinner together every night, we have sex every day,” his brows are knit tight together, confusion all over his face and he keeps going, “you’ve let me do things to you I can’t spell, we sleep together every night, and we wake up together every morning. That’s fucking around?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying your understanding of casual sex must be really skewed, because I’ve never done any of those things with a hookup.” He pulls away from you, crossing the room so he can grab a t-shirt and throwing it on over his head. He’s frustrated, the muscles in his arms jumping when he grips his fists tight for a second.

“I’m confused,” you confess, “you said you wanted us to help each other out since we’re trapped in quarantine,”

“I know what I said,” he fires back.

The last thing you expected was for him to react this strongly and to start a fight. You’ve never had one with him, you’ve only ever seen him ruffled by a video game and even then, he doesn’t look half as pissed as he does right now. “Yunho,” you drop your voice down soft, “I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“Upset me?” His eyebrows shoot up, “No, you’re just making it perfectly clear what you think. I just didn’t realize,”

“I should have waited to say something,” you look down, “I just don’t want to ruin us, our friendship.”

“Our friendship,” he repeats.

You look up to meet his eyes, “Yeah, I just,” you flounder, “I know it’s always been important to you, and I just think we’ve been blurring the lines, and I,”

“The lines are well past blurred,” he interjects, “I just didn’t know you cared this little. You could have fooled me.”

“This little?” You take a step forward and he takes one back, a hand out to tell you to back off, that it’s not the time, “Yunho, I care about you so much, you know that.”

“Tell me,” He says, “with the other men you’ve fucked around with, was it like this?”

Tears spring to your eyes as he twists your words back on you and you blink furiously to clear your vision, sweeping the fallen ones away with the sleeve of your robe, “Was it like us?” You clarify.

“Yeah,” he nods. He opens his mouth to say more, but shuts it again, holding his tongue.

You shake your head, “Nothing’s been like us,”

His relaxes and he sighs, “Then tell me, just be honest with me. What changed? From twenty minutes ago to now.”

Blush heats your cheeks, and you sniff, swallowing back more tears. You reach for him but don’t move forward, an upturned palm asking him to come just a little closer. He rests his hands in yours and waits, not coming any closer. “It’s,” you don’t know where to look, but when his gaze softens, and his thumb runs over your knuckles you meet his eyes. You try again, “Somewhere in all of this it started to feel real for me,”

“What?” His hand stills.

“I’m sorry,” you can’t help the tears that spill over now, your stomach in knots, “I tried to separate it, I really did, but it started to get twisted in my head and I can’t help how I feel. You’re amazing, and my best friend, and I should have stopped us a long time ago before I felt this way, but I couldn’t.”

He drops your hand and your heart plummets, “y/n,” he blinks, taking in a breath.

You can practically feel the soft let down, and you wonder if he’s ever had to do this before. It hurts, you realize, far more than you thought it would. You interject quickly to keep his words at bay, “It’s okay though, honestly. It just turns out I’m not as good at casual sex as I thought, and I mean, we live together and we’re in each other’s space so much, of course it’s hard. To be fair to me though, you didn’t help either, always calling me pet names during sex and being so sweet,”

“y/n,” Yunho says, a little louder, this time, “how exactly do you feel?”

“What?”

“You said you should have stopped before you felt this way. What way? Tell me,”

“Oh,” you exhale slow, and your stomach flutters as you try to find the words, “Before I wanted you like this,” you explain, “before I fell in love with you.”

Now, with it out in the open, you feel like you could hear a pin drop. Yunho grins wide suddenly, an immediately laugh on his lips as he steps towards you, “I can’t believe you,” he crowds your space, pushing you back towards the wall suddenly, “you are such a fucking idiot sometimes,”

Your brain is firing a mile a minute, but everything clicks off when he presses his lips to yours, his hand cupping your head when he pushes you into the wall. He holds you tight, pulling you up on your tip toes while bending low to kiss you. When he breaks to take a breath you push him backwards, “What are you doing?”

“I can’t believe you seriously just tried to break up with me because you love me,” he dips in for another kiss, but you dart out from under his arms and spin to face him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you warn.

“I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up, still grinning and you can’t understand the incredible stark tonal shift between how angry he was a moment ago to now.

“Wait,” the wheels in your head start turning, things clicking into place, “what do you mean break up with you?”

“Maybe I should have been more clear,” Yunho takes a step towards you, “I didn’t want to just fuck around. I don’t want to just fuck around at all. I want you, entirely.”

“Oh,” your breath leaves you in a rush.

“I thought it was obvious,” he continues, “and I should have said something, but I thought you knew. I mean we’ve slept in the same bed for two months, and I’ve never not woken up without you in my arms, I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t,” you say quietly.

“I’m in love with you,” he says simply, his eyes shining, crinkled upwards with his smile, “so when I say want you forever, I mean with me.”

“You love me,” you repeat, turning the words over in your mouth, knots in your stomach releasing.

“I do,” he steps into your space, reaching for your face again, “I love you and I can’t believe you just tried to break up with me.”

“You could have told me we were dating,” you grin.

“God, come here,” he pulls you up into his arms, locking his lips on yours and squeezing you tight. He stumbles forwards until he finds the edge of the bed and tips you both down onto the mattress, situating himself above you again.

“Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth when he moves his hand down your hip to your inner thigh and pushes it to the side to open you up to him. You can feel him growing hard again against you and you break the kiss, “again?”

“I can’t help it,” he peppers kisses down your jaw, your throat, nipping softly across your collarbones, “you said you love me,”

“Yeah,” you sigh, threading your fingers into his hair, “I really, really do.”

“Then I need you,” he shrugs, and starts to part your robe.

“Wait,” you stop him.

He looks up to you, expectant, waiting.

“Let’s take it a little slower,” you squeeze his hand, “I’m pretty sore already.”

He nods, but you see him thinking. He pulls the tie on your robe free, opening up the fabric and he looks over you. Your thighs are bruised, your hips too, and he softly passes his hand over them. “Why did you want me to fuck you like that?” He murmurs.

"Hey,” you shake your head, tugging his hand to pull him back up to your face, “I liked it, I asked you to. I’m just sore, that’s okay,”

He nods and kisses you soft, his wide hands running over every inch of your skin. You sigh into his mouth when he pushes open your legs a little further and runs his fingers softly down your slit to check you. Yunho presses his middle finger inside of you, softly brushing along your walls with his fingertip.

“Yunho,” you murmur against him, “come here,” you tug at the waistband of his boxers, and he kicks them off, tossing his shirt over his head too.

He eases over you slowly before helping you position your hips right and starting to push inside you again. Your hips ache in their tilted position, but it’s a good ache, the familiar stretch of him warm and welcome. He’s watching your face carefully, clearly a little hesitant after being so rough with you earlier, and you wrap your legs around him to urge him deeper.

“Yun,” you murmur, brushing your fingers through his hair, “I’m good, I want you,”

“I just want to take care of you,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek.

“I know,” you pull him towards you, bringing his length to fully seat inside you. “I love you,” you tell him, now that you’re flush against each other, nose to nose and sharing the same breaths.

He smiles, kissing each cheek, your forehead, your lips, the tip of your nose, “I love you too,” he murmurs, “you’re my girl,”

You nod against him, “I’m all yours,”

Yunho starts to roll his hips, slow and easy and your body responds instantly, getting wetter with every little thrust and your overstimulated clit sparking with pleasure where it catches against him softly. He dips his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours and deepening your kisses, his free hand cupping your breast and brushing his thumb over your stiff nipple.

“Oh,” you sigh pleasantly into his mouth, your fingers tightening on his back.

He works you quietly, softly, every stoke inside you and brush of your nipple adding pressure to the heat low in your belly, bringing you closer and closer with every move. He holds you to him, your body soft and pliant for him. He rolls against you, sucking softly against the pulse point in your neck and you arch up, the shifted angle of his cock inside you now massaging your g-spot steadily with every rock.

“Please,” you whimper against him, “just like that,”

“Right here?” he rolls again, delivering a pointed flick to your nipple and you tense up, body locked with pleasure.

“Please, more,” you duck your head into his chest, letting your eyes slip closed as you focus wholly on the warm stretch of him inside you and his hands caressing your skin.

He gathers you closer, holding you against his chest and bracing himself with one forearm against the mattress. He cups your head, fingers sinking into your hair, his lips against the top of your head. He picks up his pace a little, chasing his release just as much, and curses softly into your hair.

It only takes a moment more for you to spill over the edge, holding him tightly and arching up in his arms, your lips pressing against the bare skin of his shoulder. As your muscles contract down on him, he falters, rutting his hips quickly and bringing himself up and over the precipice. “Come, baby,” you urge him on, stroking his back.

He moans softly, clutching you tightly as he comes, filling you again, whispered words against your skin you can barely make out. The gentle wave of your orgasm has passed, leaving you hazy and warm, and you lean back into the sheets.

“Don’t go anywhere this time,” he slides his weight of you and nuzzles you with his nose, kissing you lazily and pleased.

“I’m staying right here,” you assure him, letting him pull your back to his chest and wrap around you.

“I’m never letting you go,” he sighs.

“We’ll have to get out of bed sometime,” you tease him softly, letting your eyes slip closed.

“That’s a tomorrow problem,” he reaches to the side and grabs the edge of the comforter so he can drag it up over you.

You cuddle into him and the blankets, your skin chilled from the air conditioning unit passing cold air over your sweat slick skin. He sighs, his hand coming to rest on your chest, his thumb stroking soft and even patterns into your soft flesh. “Yunho,” you murmur and he hums in response, though you know he’s rapidly approaching sleep, “I love you so much,”

Now that you’ve started to say it, you can’t stop, and neither can he. The giddy rush of the early days of love sending butterflies through you. He shifts, bringing his lips close to your ear, and he presses a kiss there before saying, “I love you too,” His voice warm and low.

He gives you a squeeze and you sigh into his embrace, letting your body relax wholly into him. You won’t be able to stay awake much longer, but as the thought enters your mind you have to ask, so you softly shift your hand into his, “So I guess you’re my boyfriend now, hmm?”

“I was your boyfriend two months ago,” he says, squeezing your hand, “you just didn’t know it yet.”

a/n: thank you to everyone who left me extremely kind messages on the first part to this two-shot, summer nights. i love writing for non!idol yunho so much, so this one was very fun. feel free to drop me an ask if you have any requests <3

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