#SSIS interview questions

[onlineitsolutions01]

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[ssivinee]

「 Cara Mia 」

n. kazuha x aespa ! f reader ✎𓂃 You and Kazuha dated for a while, but the pressure and fanwars got to her, which led to the split. A year or so later, the two of you are put in unforeseeable circumstances which has you guys stuck and working together... as MCs.

word count ! 2.2 k

requested ! anon: Hiiii can i request an idol x idol kazuha and reader so its like they we're exes but they have to be a host for music bank then like do you know that tiktok sound "oh i hate that man i hate that man but oh cara mia i love her" but if you don't know this is the tiktok example link!!! https://vt.tiktok.com/ZShN36TN2/

When Kazuha first got a letter from KBS during a meeting with the Lesserafim team, she didn’t expect much to come from it. She expected the mail to be for some other member who had a stronger Korean fanbase. So when their manager read the paper, you could likely imagine the shock she felt. 

When the entire group sat in one of Hybe’s meeting rooms, everyone sat down and lay back in their chairs. “Apparently, Music Bank is looking for a temporary MC since Minju and Sangmin have overseas schedules next week.”

At first, the four older girls turned to Eunchae, knowing that she would love to go back. The maknae’s face lit up, but turned into a frown when their manager shook their head. “They want someone new. It helps them scout for new possible MC combinations in the future.”

“Did they ask who they wanted this time?” Chaewon asked, hoping that if they picked her, she would work with a friend.

“Kazuha-ssi.”

Zuha sat up, surprised, pointing at herself wide-eyed while she looked at her members. Sure, she had improved in her Korean skills, and she found herself funny, but after her first time being MC about a year ago, she believed that it would take longer for another opportunity.

This got Kazuha to where she was right now, sitting in the waiting room as a makeup artist applying some eyeshadow with a brush that feathered on top of her eyelid. She felt her hands clamming up, the sweat making them slightly slippery as she patted them down on her pants.

The Japanese woman wasn’t sure who her partner was, but she was about to find out while the stylist was doing her hair. When the makeup artist had finished, Zuha had been able to open her eyes, feeling the short and soft tugs on her hair as she felt the heat of the flat iron.

Her eyes roamed around the table, trying to find the script that lay on the other end of the table. “Can someone please pass over the cards?” She asked politely as her manager does just that. “You’ll be up in twenty, so put on your dress soon,” Kazuha listened to her, nodding, as she read over the script, when her heart sank at the sight of the name.

Y/n.

Kazuha mentally rolled her eyes since she couldn’t move in her seat, but she was thinking how she was the unluckiest person in the world. Yet before she could think deeper about it, the stylist had already dragged her to the rack of dresses, where they opted for a white, off-the-shoulder dress.

The stylist had said that her beauty looked much more pure and angelic this way. Kazuha then put on the simple heels, a bit confused as to why she had to wear a tall pair instead of something comfortable. 

But once she entered the set where interviews take place, it answered her question. Kazuha had forgotten that you were a bit shorter than she was, causing you to wear heeled shoes around her often.

She takes in your presence, eyes skimming you up and down. You wore an off-the-shoulder dress as well, but in the color black. The length was similar to the one she wore, but your dress flowed outward a bit more, and had mesh sleeves that covered your arms.

It looked like a white and black swan on stage together, especially with Kazuha’s hair being wavy while yours was styled pin straight. Where she saw a glow that surrounded you under the bright-white studio lights, while a makeup artist of your own touched up the subtle blush on the apples of your face.

The use of dark eyeshadow around your eyes emphasized the intimidating stare you were known for.  You had this grungy look that many fans went crazy for, and Kazuha despised how attractive you looked in her eyes.

She couldn’t have imagined that this was going to be the first interaction you’d have ever since that night Zuha had ended everything. 

It was a week after the second weekend of Coachella 2024, and Lesserafim had been going through much emotional distress. You remember the day so vividly, sitting in the dorm with the three members, wanting to be some solace for her.

Your girlfriend, at the time, had been pacing in her room as you sat on her bed with worry written all over your face. It wasn’t clear if seeing her at this moment was a good idea—your fandoms were pretty much at war this whole time, and it broke your heart to see her this way.

The usually calm, collected ballerina looked overwhelmed. Dark circles under her eyes, red scleras from all the crying, and her usually-perfect hair disheveled, she just looked like a wreck.

“I mean, it was disappointing, but it always feels like we did something criminal,” she says, exasperated with her hands clasped together behind her head. Trying to reason with her, you caress her shoulder, “It comes with the job, baby.”

“It’s always your fans, though!” She said with frustration, pointing an accusing finger at you.

Now your face went from concerned to a bit irritated, “That isn’t really something I can control, Zuha.” Kazuha looked confused, likely thinking of so many things, yet you couldn’t possibly believe that she was putting some of the blame on you.

“You think this is all easy for me, too?” She heard how baffled you sounded, and couldn’t even look you straight in the eyes.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“But that’s what you're insinuating.”

She realizes the mistake she made, but Zuha does not want to admit her wrongdoings. Which was pretty rare for her—she wasn’t one to be petty unless it came to you.

The interaction left Kazuha with a bad taste in her mouth, which had her breaking up with you through text. All the while, you were always the type of person who easily detached from scenarios like that. So while Kazuha had this lingering hatred for you, you just lived your life as usual.

Even if you were that way, no one could say you didn’t try to make it work. Both her members answered the door when you visited after the breakup, where you evidently looked depressed. For a week straight, you did your best to make it work, showing that you weren’t going to give up on her.

But it got to a point where you validated your feelings more and knew your worth, so you left her alone, rather than looking like you were trying to harass her.

“Are you ready?” The cameraman asked politely, causing Kazuha to snap out of her thoughts. She nods with a friendly smile on her face, trying her best to adjust to her normal self again.

She caught a glimpse of you in her peripheral vision, seeing how you kept your eyes on the script. How you practiced in an energetic voice multiple times to sound as natural as possible.

The camera then gives you a small cue from behind the large camera, signaling that they were now live, and the two of you have soft grins on your faces. Kazuha does her best to mask any feelings she can as she goes, “Welcome to a special Music Bank with us as your MCs!”

“I’m AESPA Y/n,” you say, then look at her, and Kazuha bows slightly, “and I’m Lesserafim’s Kazuha.”

“Today we have a packed lineup.”

“That’s right, Kazuha-ssi. Today, we have stages from groups like MEOVV, I-DLE, RIIZE, Seventeen, and many more to come.” You tell the viewer, and the live audience is cheering.

Kazuha reads the script, dreading the interaction with you, and quickly asks, “Can I ask who you're looking forward to seeing?”

“Personally, I’ve been obsessed with ‘Hands Up,’ by MEOVV,” you announce and do the hand gestures of the chorus. Zuha tried her best to stop herself from rolling her eyes—yet you catch the tiniest sigh that peeks through. “How about you, Zuha-ssi?”

She faintly flinches at the nickname, not expecting it, especially since it wasn’t part of the script. “Hm~,” Kazuha acts as if she’s thinking, trying to gather herself. “I’m personally really excited to see Seventeen sunbaenim.” Kazuha does the hand gestures for the ‘THUNDER’ chorus, which has her hands stretched over her head, lifting up her dress slightly from your view. You quickly tug it down a bit, just enough to keep her image safe without interrupting.

While she felt your fingertips brush against her thigh, she felt her face burn up at the sweet gesture.

‘You were always such a gentlewoman,’ Zuha thought. She may have disliked you at the moment, but she wasn’t going to deny how much of a green flag you were.

She knew well in her heart that admitting that contradicted everything she had thought. Yet that’s what happens when you let your pride and ego get in the way, mixed with the pressures of being a Kpop idol.

“What an elegant version of the dance, Zuha-ssi. Wasn’t expecting anything less from you,” that's when her eyes go wide at the hushed tone of your voice, fans squealing at her reaction from the crowd.

Now that definitely wasn’t part of the script.

She shouldn’t have expected anything less from you, though. As you continued your lines, Kazuha’s mind drifted off to how professional you were acting, given the circumstances you were both in at the moment.

It almost pissed her off that you weren’t heartbroken in the ways she thought.

She knew how you detached easily, and although she expected it, there was an inkling in Kazuha’s heart that wanted you to look sad when first seeing her again. Like how Yunjin and Chaewon explained it, the few days after your breakup.

“See you all soon!” That brings Zuha back to reality, waving her hand as you did to the camera. She looks over at you, expecting you to say something after the ‘stunt’ you pulled, but she was surprised when you turned your back to her and walked off set to talk to a staff member.

Gosh, she could only think of how she wanted this day to be over with if this was how the interviews were going to turn out.

Well, in spite of her worries, the shooting of every group interview went as smoothly as it could. There were times when she was caught off guard by your improv, but she had learned to naturally flow with it. This gave the interactions some character that felt much more genuine to the fans, who then began to swoon over the two of you together.

It was then Seventeen’s turn. You two had given them the chance to introduce themselves, and since Kazuha had previously danced with MEOVV, it was your turn to be taught the choreography by Hoshi.

As he stepped forward, you handed Kazuha the mic and followed every instruction he had given. With the main dancer he is, Hoshi was particular in how he described every move, which helped you catch on easily.

“First, cover your face with both hands in a vertical line. Then interlace your fingers as if you're stretching them out towards the front and lean slightly more right, following with a pop. Then lift your hands in the same position more to the right above your head, then pop again,” He explained, then followed with the quick arm movements which you followed to a tee.

So when everyone cues for the music to begin, the camera focuses on you and Hoshi as Kazuha stands behind, beside the Seventeen members. She watched how your arm flexed during each move, and how you hit every bounce and arm move sharply.

Almost feeling the heat rising within her, she swallows while looking at how your muscles move as your hair flows with your movement. ‘I’m not the strongest soldier,’ she thinks to herself and hides her face while finally being able to roll her eyes without being in the camera's view.

As you finish, you and Hoshi bow at each other. Finally making proper eye contact with Kazuha that morning, you see the flush on her cheeks, which enables a smirk on your face.

She looks away quickly, finishing up the interview, and all the members say bye as they walk off, giving their label mate more attention since they knew each other. Before the two of you could exit and touch up for the awarding on stage, Kazuha stops you by grabbing your wrist while off the set.

You stare at her, confused, looking behind her to check that the crowd was no longer in view to see whatever was about to go down.

“What was all that?”

“All what?” You asked, bewildered as she huffed, “All the improv you were doing! Almost fifty percent of what you said wasn’t in the script!”

It was your turn to sigh, raking your long hair back with your fingers, something Kazuha loved to see you do as it was a simple action that made your muscles flex easily over your head. She could kiss or slap you right then and there, the urge to do either or, killed her slowly.

“I don’t see the issue. You went well with it after a while, and the fans loved it,” you say it in an obvious tone, and Kazuha groans in frustration.

“I literally hate you,” she mutters, only loud enough for you to hear, when you give a smirk and walk away slowly.

“Keep telling yourself that, babe.”

You left Kazuha standing there, stunned, at the pet name—she couldn’t even think of what to do next. How was she going to deal with you for the next ten minutes on stage?

Because you surely weren’t going to make it easy for her.

"I don't know whether to love or hate you right now," she finally mumbles to herself, while leaning her head back in misery.

[gyu-tori]

A Slice of Temptation | K.TH

A BIRTHDAY SPECIAL

⟢ Pairing: idol!taehyunx fem idol!reader ⟢ Genre: Smut and some fluff ⟢ Warnings: Mature content, explicit language, food play, fingering, praising, teasing, kissing/making out, finger sucking (lots of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it) , Taehyun calls reader baby, some dirty talk, others that I may have missed!!

Summary: What was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted filming for your idol segment quickly turns into something far more nerve-wracking when you're assigned to interview Taehyun for his birthday.

But the real surprise comes after filming, when he invites you to his dorm to "celebrate properly." Alone. Tension lingers in the air, thick and undeniable, until he finally decides to break it—one taste of sweetness at a time.

⟢ Word Count: 5.6k

The nerves had hit you the moment you stepped out of the elevator. Today was a big day—your first solo interview segment, and you were visiting the one and only TXT. The thought of being around your seniors especially on such a special day like Taehyun’s birthday, made your heart race.

You stood in front of their practice room, pacing slightly, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. The makeup artist had done a perfect job, your outfit was on point, and you were ready to film—but the looming presence of the boy group, especially Taehyun, had you second-guessing everything.

The PD-nim’s voice broke through your swirling thoughts, calling you over. “Y/N, we’re starting in 5! Ready?”

You gave a quick nod, though the nervousness lingered like a weight on your chest. “Yes, PD-nim. Ready to go.”

With a deep breath, you stood in front of the camera, the bright lights making everything feel a little more surreal. As the countdown began, your smile widened. You had this. You could do this.

“Three… two… one…”

The camera zoomed in as you cheerfully greeted it, the familiar words falling from your lips almost automatically. “Hello everyone! Welcome back to another episode of Y/N’s Cut,” you said, raising your hand in a playful wave. “I’m your host, Y/N! And today, we have a very special episode for you. It’s a day full of surprises because we’re celebrating one of the most talented groups under HYBE—TXT!”

You paused for a beat, giving the camera a bright smile. “We’re here to wish Taehyun a very happy birthday, and of course, to ask him some fun questions. So stay tuned, because we’ve got a lot to unpack!”

You turned toward the practice room door, your heart speeding up again as you mentally prepared to enter. You knocked hesitantly, feeling the weight of the moment.

From inside, you heard a chorus of greetings, the boys’ voices excited and welcoming. “Y/N! Welcome!”

The rest of the group greeted you warmly, but your eyes were immediately drawn to Taehyun. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyes studying you in that way that made you feel both seen and unseen at the same time.

"Ah! Sunbaes, it's so nice to finally meet you," you stammered, bowing to them, a nervous giggle slipping from your lips as you bowed slightly.

"Nice to meet you too," Taehyun replied, his voice smooth, though there was a teasing undertone in his tone as he gave you a once-over. "Everyone’s ready, do we start now?" he asked, his gaze lingering just a little too long on you, making your heart beat faster.

You nodded, but as you started to speak, the nerves came back in full force. "Actually, I only need you for this interview, Taehyun-ssi. If that’s alright?" you added, unsure if it was too forward to make such a request.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye. "Of course. We’ll let you borrow him for a little while," Yeonjun said, nudging Taehyun lightly with his elbow, his grin widening.

The rest of the members chuckled, but Taehyun didn’t move, only tilting his head toward you with a small smirk. "Alright, let’s get this over with," he said, though there was something in his tone that made you second-guess whether he was really as uninterested as he seemed.

You exited the practice room and he followed you into another room where everything was set up, the cameras rolling as the door shut behind you. You tried to steady your breathing as the small, intimate space became a little too quiet, even with all the eyes of the staff on you. Taehyun took a seat at the small table, his posture relaxed but his eyes still studying you intently.

You cleared your throat and turned back to the camera, signaling for the interview to officially start. "So, Taehyun-ssi," you began, trying to steady your voice, "today’s a special day. It’s your birthday! How does it feel to be another year older?" You hoped the question came across as playful and casual, but your nerves were making it hard to read the room.

Taehyun leaned forward slightly, his smile still teasing but more genuine now. "Feels pretty good. Another year, another milestone. But I’m not one for big celebrations. I’d rather just relax, enjoy the day with the members, you know?"

You nodded, trying to focus on the flow of the conversation. "I get that. Birthdays can be overwhelming sometimes." You shifted in your seat a little, trying to find your rhythm. "But I heard you have something special planned for the day, right?"

"Something like that," he replied, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. "But we’ll keep it low-key. No big parties or surprises. Just a cake, some drinks, and good company."

Your heart skipped at the mention of cake, and you quickly caught yourself, mentally reminding yourself to stay calm. "Well, we’ve got a special treat for you today as well," you said, trying to sound casual, though you could feel your voice wavering just a bit. "A cake to celebrate your day."

Taehyun’s eyes flickered with interest, and you quickly moved towards the table where the cake was waiting. Your hands felt unsteady, and as you reached for the box, you could feel your palms growing clammy. You took a deep breath and turned back toward him, offering the box with a slight tremor in your hand.

"I—I baked it myself," you blurted, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the confession. "I—wanted to make something special for you, Taehyun-ssi." You felt your face heat up as you looked at him, hoping the gesture didn’t come across as too forward.

He looked at the box for a moment before his gaze met yours. You couldn’t quite read his expression, but his eyes seemed to soften just a fraction as he took the box from your hands.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and smooth, making your heart skip a beat. His gaze lingered on you, and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your face flush deeper.

As he set the cake down on the table, he casually cut a slice, the soft sound of the knife through the cake making you feel even more on edge. Without even using utensils, he grabbed a small piece and, with a teasing glint in his eyes, lifted it to his mouth. Slowly, he licked the frosting off his finger, his gaze never leaving yours as he did so. The slow, deliberate motion had your pulse racing, and before you could stop it, your face heated up, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your attention kept drifting back to his finger, the way his lips curved as he savored the taste. You couldn’t deny how much the small action made your stomach twist with a mix of desire and discomfort. There was something undeniably captivating about him, and he seemed to know the effect he had on you.

Taehyun smirked again, his eyes still locked onto yours. "Not bad," he commented, his voice soft but with a hint of amusement. "You baked this yourself?"

You nodded quickly, trying to clear your throat and sound normal. "Y-Yes, I wanted to make something special for you."

"Well, it’s definitely... memorable," he said, his smirk never faltering. You tried to ignore the beating in your chest, continuing the interview.

The shoot had wrapped up earlier than expected, and the staff began moving toward the exits, chattering amongst themselves about the next project. But Taehyun stayed behind, lingering in the corner of the room with an air of calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos around him. You hadn’t expected him to ask you anything, let alone invite you somewhere. But when your eyes met, he gave a small, knowing smile, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Without a word, he picked up the box containing the cake you’d baked and turned to you. His voice was low, smooth, and somehow commanding despite its casual tone. “Come over to the dorms. Let’s celebrate properly.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nerves that caused the flutter in your chest, but the idea of spending more time with him—alone—sent a rush of emotions through you. You swallowed hard, trying to seem unaffected, even though the mere thought of being alone with Taehyun made your heart race.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind running through a million possibilities. What would it be like? Was this something he did often with guests or was this different? He wasn’t giving you any hints, though. His eyes were steady, waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” you managed, voice softer than you intended. You immediately cursed yourself for sounding too eager, but Taehyun simply nodded and motioned toward the door. You followed him, still unsure of what you’d gotten yourself into, but you couldn’t help the curiosity tugging at you.

The drive to his dorm felt like an eternity, and yet, it was over far too quickly. The air was thick with anticipation, and you couldn’t seem to control the nervous energy that buzzed through you. Every word he spoke, every glance in your direction, had your heart pounding. You tried not to overthink it, but every little detail felt magnified in the quiet of the car.

The moment you stepped inside the dorm, the atmosphere shifted. The door clicked behind you, leaving just the two of you in the quiet space. Taehyun moved with effortless grace, setting the cake down on the kitchen counter, his movements slow but purposeful. The air between you two was thick with an undeniable tension, each small shift of his gaze making your heart race.

He turned, flashing you a brief smile as he poured two drinks. You could feel the weight of his attention, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made you feel exposed, though he said nothing. The sound of the bottle’s liquid filling the glasses echoed in the otherwise silent room, the quietness making the space feel almost too intimate.

You stood by the counter, unsure of where to sit, fidgeting nervously with your hands as you tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Make yourself at home,” Taehyun said in his usual nonchalant tone, but it only added to the air of quiet authority he exuded. He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours as you took it, sending a shiver through your body.

“Thanks for having me over,” you said, attempting to keep your voice casual, though it came out a little softer than you intended.

“No problem,” Taehyun replied, not breaking eye contact as he took a sip from his own glass. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking relaxed but observant. “It’s just gonna be the two of us for a while. The others had to stay longer for some extra practice, and I got to leave early.” He shrugged, a small, cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Perks of being the birthday boy, I guess.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of it being just the two of you felt strangely intimate, and the way he said it made you feel like you were both on some unspoken edge, standing at the precipice of something new.

As Taehyun eyed you, his expression softened just slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes never disappeared. He seemed to enjoy the effect his words were having on you. “I don’t mind the company though,” he added casually, though his gaze was still intense, focused on you.

You felt the weight of his attention all over again, your heart fluttering in your chest. You quickly tried to shake off your nervousness, but his words hung in the air like an unspoken invitation, leaving you both more aware of each other than ever before.

The dorm was quiet except for the soft clink of glasses on the table and the low hum of the fridge. Taehyun sat across from you, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his glass, eyes locked onto yours with quiet amusement. The atmosphere was thick, heavy with something unspoken. It was like the silence between you two was more intimate than any words could express.

“You were so nervous earlier,” he mused, his voice smooth, teasing. “Was it because of me?”

The question was casual, but there was something about the way he said it that made your stomach twist. You quickly shook your head, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No, of course not—”

“Liar.”

His smirk deepened, and before you could protest, he leaned forward, placing the cake box in front of you both. The moment was loaded with anticipation, the weight of his gaze on you making your heart beat faster. Taehyun seemed to savor the silence as he regarded you, eyes dancing with mischief.

He picked up the knife, slowly cutting into the cake with a deliberate slowness that made you nervous. You watched him carefully, unsure of what to expect next, and as the first slice was made, Taehyun’s eyes never left yours. The tension hung between you like a heavy curtain.

"You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "I don’t think I’ve seen you this nervous in your show."

“He watches my show?” you said in your mind. Your lips parted to respond, but before you could, he placed a piece of cake on a plate and slid it closer to you. His fingers brushed against yours as you reached for the fork. You looked up to meet his gaze, and there was something about the intensity in his eyes that made your stomach flutter.

"You’re not going to try it?" he teased, his voice smooth. "Don’t tell me you’re too shy to eat the cake you made in front of me."

You hesitated, looking down before speaking. “I’m not shy,” you whispered, though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise.

Taehyun chuckled teasingly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "Uh-huh. Sure you're not."

There was a quiet pause, before he suddenly reached for the slice of cake, scooping up a generous amount of frosting with his finger. His gaze never wavered as he held it between you two. “Open,” he instructed, his tone just a little firmer now, commanding.

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at his frosting-covered finger in front of you. The simple request felt like it carried more weight than it should. Slowly, you parted your lips, and without missing a beat, Taehyun pressed his fingers against your tongue. The taste of sweet vanilla filled your mouth, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the taste of sweetness, whether it was the frosting or his fingers—it was definitely sweet. His eyes were still staring at yours, and the weight of it made your breath hitch.

You licked his fingers clean, feeling a shiver race down your spine as you did. His eyes darkened with something unreadable, a mix of amusement and desire swirling in his expression.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling his fingers away, the praise sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His voice, soft and steady, was laced with a warmth that made your thighs unconsciously press together. The way he said it, so calm yet so commanding, ignited a fire in you you hadn't expected.

Before you could gather your thoughts, his thumb brushed the corner of your lips, catching a bit of frosting that had escaped. You barely had time to react before he leaned in, his tongue dragging over the skin right next to your lips in a slow, deliberate lick. Your breath was caught, your body tense, as the sensation sent an uncontrollable shudder through you. 

“You taste… sweet,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your jaw. You closed your eyes, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for stability as his touch intensified.

"But I don’t think this is enough…" Taehyun's voice dropped lower, a dangerous, teasing edge creeping in. He dipped his fingers back into the cake, this time smearing frosting along your collarbone, down the exposed skin peeking from the neckline of your top.

Your breath hitched as the coolness of the frosting contrasted against your flushed skin. “T-Taehyun, what are you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips met your skin. He licked, sucked, and nibbled lightly along the sweetened trail he’d left, sending waves of heat and sensation through your body. The mix of pleasure and embarrassment had you gasping, eyes fluttering shut as you melted under his touch.

“You look good like this,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. “So soft, so obedient, so… tempting”

The words hit you like a shockwave, sending a rush of heat between your legs. He knew exactly what he was doing to you—knew how easily he could make you melt beneath him with just his words and touch.

His fingers trailed up your arm, then tilted your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His gaze was commanding, dark, and intense. “You want more?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “Admit it.”

Your pride warred with the desperate desire pulsing through your veins, but you couldn't help it. Breathless, your lips parted. “I... I do.”

A dark chuckle escaped him, and without warning, his lips descended onto yours, his kiss deep and consuming. His tongue slid against yours with a hunger that left you gasping for air, a whimper escaping you as his hands gripped your hips, pressing you further against the counter. You could feel the heat of his body, his strength, and his dominance wrapped around you in every movement.

Taehyun pulled away from the kiss, but not for long. He lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs with an air of dominance that made you shiver. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with slow, deliberate movements, and you felt yourself melting beneath his touch.

His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing lightly, just enough to leave a mark. You gasped, your breath uneven as your hands gripped his shoulders for support.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” His voice was a low murmur against your skin, fingers playing with the hem of your top, teasing.

Your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, your head barely nodding. 

He didn’t need any more confirmation. With a smirk, he slipped your top over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. His fingers trailed down your stomach, smearing more frosting onto your exposed skin as he leaned down, his lips following the path he’d made with his fingers.

“You’re my dessert tonight,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he licked a long, teasing stripe up your torso, swirling his tongue over each spot where frosting had touched “-the perfect gift”

You trembled, your body reacting to every touch, every lick. Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he continued his slow, torturous exploration. His teeth grazed against your sensitive skin, sending a wave of shivers through you before he soothed the sting with his tongue.

“Taehyun—” You gasped as his mouth continued to worship your skin, sending you further into a haze of pleasure.

He silenced you with another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate. His hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of your shorts before pulling them down with a fluid motion. You shivered, the cold air hitting your heated skin, but Taehyun didn’t stop. His fingers traced the outline of your body, playing with the edge of your desires, pulling you closer to the end.

“Let me hear you beg for it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low, a quiet command that made your body tremble with need.

You could feel the fire inside you burning, every inch of your body craving him. “Please… I need you,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself.

A satisfied smirk curled on his lips, his eyes dark with lust. “That’s my girl.”

He picked you up, as if you weighed nothing, and carried you over to the couch. He laid you down gently and went back to the kitchen. He returned, the cake in hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of you. 

“This isn’t fair for my baby, is it?” he says, sitting next to you. You stared at him confused until he grabbed the hem of his shirt, taking it off in one swift motion revealing his sculpted chest. The sight alone made your core tighten with need. 

Taehyun took more frosting on his fingers and smeared it on his chest, licking the remains from his fingers. “Why don’t you have a taste?” he asked, still staring at you while cleaning up his fingers. Hesitantly, you inched forward, slowly poking your tongue out whilst looking up at him. “Don’t be shy, baby, go on.” with his permission, you licked a stripe of frosting up his chest, gaining a bit of confidence. As you were cleaning up his chest, he whispered in a low voice “You’re enjoying this a bit too much now, aren’t you?”.

Before you could even respond, his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you over his lap. He pressed hard against your core, making you gasp, your body instinctively grinding against him. His hands moved across the back of your head, tangled in your hair as he tilted your head back, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

The kiss felt like it took over all your senses, his tongue claiming yours with so much urgency that it made you breathless. His hands tightened around your hips, rocking you against his growing bulge as a low groan escaped his chest. "You feel so fucking good," he cursed against your lips, sending a jolt of excitement through you. 

 His hands slipped under the waistband of your pants, gripping your bare ass and pulling you closer. “I can’t wait anymore” everything was suddenly a blur and he was now hovering over you. "So pretty," he sighed, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, his lips igniting fire in the process.

With skilled hands, he removes your pants, sliding them down your legs and leaving you naked beneath his hot gaze. His fingers brushed against your clothed bundle of nerves, lingering on the damp fabric, and his lips curled into a cocky smirk. "For someone so shy, you seem to be excited" he teased, his voice filled with pride as he finally removed the last piece of clothing you had.

You whimpered as his fingers moved between your folds, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. "You're soaked," he groaned, inserting one finger inside you and quickly adding another, your hands gripping his biceps. The stretch caused you to arch against him, but his pace remained slow, much to your dismay. After months of not being sexually active due to being an idol, this was like the first time again.

His gaze never left your face, ensuring that you were okay. He drew his fingers back out, only to thrust them back in and curl them, touching that specific spot inside, making you let out a pornographic moan.

You clenched around his fingers as he quickened his pace, "Tae-" you bit your lip; you were close, he could feel it. Your eyes were closed, and your brows were furrowed.

"Taehyunie, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking as your hips bucked against his hand, seeking release.

"Calm down, baby," he said, his lips brushing across the shell of your ear. He pulled out his fingers, leaving you hanging on the brink of relief, making you let out a frustrated sigh.

Suddenly he sat up, pulling his pants down his legs, freeing his hard length from its confines, and your mouth dried up at the sight of him. You were staring, he noticed, but before you could do anything, he was already on you again, his lips slamming into yours . 

Pulling back from the kiss, he teased your drenched folds with his tip, his lips lingering over your ear. "Tell me, baby," he said softly, his voice dark and demanding. "Tell me how much you want this, how much you want me.". 

"I want it, so bad," you said, putting your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "Please."

Taehyun wasted no time and pushed his length inside you, slipping in until he was pushed to the hilt. It seemed as if your walls had been filled to the last inch. You groaned as your walls pulsated, full and sensitive. He leaned forward, hands resting beside your head on the couch underneath the two of you.

"Does it feel good?"" He breathed into your ear, and all you can do is cry out and nod. He pulled out just enough to keep the tip in, then gently began sliding back in, this time deeper than before.

"Good," he said into your ear, straightening himself as he brought your hips closer to his and began to move quicker.

Fingers digging into your hips with such force that they would likely bruise later, but the additional pain just added enough to your already existing pleasure.

"Shit baby, you're doing so good,"

He could feel your entire body shaking and knew you were getting close because of the way you were squeezing him. He felt his balls tightening and realized he's only seconds away from cumming, but he wouldn’t let himself release before you had.

The sound of skin-on-skin clapping resonated throughout the living room as he chased his high while you clutched to the cushions for dear life. 

He felt good, too good to be true and you clenched around him even more, practically screaming that you’re ready to cum. "Tyun—fuck — I'm close," 

He brought his fingers over your bundle of nerves and started to rub in a circular motion. "Let go baby, I'm here,"

"Oh fuck, Tae, keep going — fuck — I'm coming, I-" With a loud moan, your back arched as you reached your peak. 

“Just a bit more baby, I’m close too,” he said, basically panting at this point, “Where do you want me to cum?” he asked before he could let go.

“Wait! Not inside, I’m not on anything, anywhere but inside,” you replied. Suddenly Taehyun had an idea, he pulled out and moved closer to the coffee table. He continued stroking himself and with a loud groan he released all over the cake he had brought over from the kitchen.

You were still laying down, eyes practically shut from exhaustion, when you felt something on your lips, “Eat up,” he said. You opened your eyes and saw him holding a piece of cake, topped with some of his release. You opened your mouth to take a bite, keeping eye contact with him. “It tastes sweeter now, hm?” He gave you a kiss after you swallowed. 

He then got up and helped you up, “Let’s get you cleaned up”.

The dorm was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the couch beneath you as you laid tangled in each other’s arms, with you wearing his shirt and him only in his sweatpants. Your skin still tingled from the lingering sensation of Taehyun’s touch, your body utterly exhausted from the passion you’d shared. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, a steady comfort that made you feel safe, secure, and completely content in the aftermath.

Taehyun, ever so relaxed, reached over to grab a piece of the cake from the table. His fingers brushed against your lips, and you didn’t hesitate this time, taking it eagerly, making him chuckle.

“You’re learning fast,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You pouted, playfully nudging his chest with your elbow. “It’s your fault for making me nervous.”

Taehyun just smirked, pulling you even closer, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re shy.”

As your eyelids grew heavy, the gentle rhythm of his touch lulling you to sleep, you let out a soft sigh. The contentment you felt with him in this moment was almost overwhelming, and you let yourself drift, thinking about how much fun you could have in the future.

But just as the calm settled in, the door suddenly burst open with an exaggerated bang, and loud, boisterous voices filled the room.

“Happy birthday, Taehyun!” the TXT members shouted in unison, carrying a mountain of gifts, balloons, and what looked like some very extravagant party hats. They seemed all too excited, grinning like kids in a candy store.

However, the moment they laid eyes on the scene in front of them—Taehyun casually sprawled out on the couch, you nestled in his arms, your hair slightly disheveled, the remains of cake on both of your faces—they froze. The energetic chatter immediately ceased. Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, and the awkwardness in the air was so thick you could practically taste it.

Soobin, the first to enter, froze completely in place. His eyes darted from Taehyun’s smug grin to your flushed cheeks, and his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Behind him, Yeonjun, carrying a giant stuffed bear, stumbled in, completely unaware of the awkwardness that awaited. The second his eyes landed on you two, though, the bear nearly slipped from his hands as he froze, his face turning a shade of red that nearly matched the color of his shirt.

There was another beat of silence. Beomgyu’s face was unreadable as he looked between the two of you and then at the floor, visibly trying to ignore the fact that something very private was happening in front of him.

Yeonjun was the first to break the silence with a nervous chuckle. "Uh… we didn’t, uh… interrupt anything, did we?" he asked, his voice high-pitched, almost comically so. His eyes bounced between you and Taehyun like a tennis ball in a match.

You couldn’t even look at them. You simply buried your face in Taehyun’s shoulder, wishing you could vanish into thin air.

“Did we catch you at a bad time?” Soobin’s voice cracked, causing Taehyun to chuckle darkly, clearly enjoying the discomfort of his members.

“Guys, really?” Taehyun said, still relaxed, not at all fazed by the situation. He was practically lounging, an arm draped lazily around your shoulders as if the whole thing was no big deal. "You didn’t knock? Really?"

The awkwardness only deepened as the other members looked at each other with growing discomfort. Then, in true chaotic TXT fashion, it all erupted.

Yeonjun, clearly flustered, quickly reached forward and nearly dropped the stuffed bear. “Uh, yeah, Happy Birthday, I guess?” he stammered, trying and failing to make it sound casual.

Soobin, who had been holding a gift box, stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief. “We—uh, we brought presents and—” He paused, glancing at the situation again and lowering the gift box. “Are we… interrupting?”

Beomgyu, trying to save face, cleared his throat loudly and grinned awkwardly, but his gaze kept flicking between you and Taehyun. “Best birthday surprise?” He half-laughed, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed unsure whether to hand over his gift or take a few steps back and leave.

You couldn’t help but burst into nervous laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. Taehyun, however, seemed unfazed, thoroughly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “It’s fine, guys. You can leave your presents over there,” he said, casually gesturing toward the coffee table, his voice dripping with amusement.

But then suddenly Kai enters, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! You better like my gift because it wasn’t che-” he stops mid sentence, completely overwhelmed by the awkward tension, suddenly dropped his gift—an expensive-looking watch—right onto the floor with a loud clink. He stared at it, wide-eyed. “I—uh—I didn’t… expect this,” he muttered under his breath, visibly panicking.

“Dude, did you drop your gift?” Yeonjun blurted out, eyes still darting between you two as if trying to process what had just happened. He too looked like he wanted to vanish into thin air.

With all the members now shifting uncomfortably in the room, Taehyun finally leaned back against the couch, a smug smile spreading across his face. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed about the situation. In fact, he seemed downright pleased with the effect his actions were having on his friends.

“Anyway,” he said, turning to you with a wink, “looks like the real celebration’s just getting started.”

The others finally relaxed, but the awkwardness lingered in the air as they awkwardly handed over their gifts, trying to pretend like everything was normal. Taehyun, still with that mischievous grin, leaned over to you, his lips brushing your ear. “Best birthday ever.”

You could only nod, still flushed and amused by the absurdity of it all.

As the rest of the members settled around, you and Taehyun exchanged an amused look, both of you trying not to laugh at the chaos that had just unfolded. Despite the initial awkwardness, it was clear that the memory of this would stick with everyone for a long time—and it would definitely be one they wouldn’t be able to shake off.

“Oh hey, there’s still some cake!” Kai exclaims reaching out for the cake on the table, your and taehyun’s eyes widening.

“KAI DON’T!”

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Another surprise fic for tyunnie's bday!! The man who's slowly sneaking up to being my bias wrecker~ It's my first smut fic so please go easy on me huhu but I hope you all enjoy it~ I had to keep it short to post it on time... T^T I PROMISE I'LL WRITE LONGER SMUTS IN THE FUTURE WHEN IM BETTER!!

⟢ Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob

[winterfleursblog]

If you’re up for it and have the time, could u write a minghao x yn where they’re keeping their relationship a secret which causes some angst between them but in the end they tell people and live happily ever after❤️❤️ non idol preferably

Hope it works out! Thank u

My muse | x.m.h

PAIRING. Xu Minghao x nonidol!reader GENRE. Angst (with a happy ending), hurt/comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. None really just Idol realities .ᐟ WORD COUNT. 8k (not proofread)

You've been nothing but at peace dating Minghao for the past year. Since the day you two met in the art exhibit of your favorite painter, the red string of fate always brought you together in coincidental meetings—the library, the cafe, or even just down the street. What began as stolen glances soon turned into eyes that looked at you with so much love—the kind of love that engulfs you in an embrace when your fire within starts to flicker. He always supported you in the things you do, found ways to help you grow together, and consistently reminded you of how important you were to him.

Except that he could only love you in secret.

It couldn't be avoided—he was a known idol, after all. It's a harsh industry where a dating scandal can put not just him, but even you under fire. Even so, he took the risk and entered a relationship with you.

Dating an idol was never easy. Aside from loving you, he also had to love his fans, just like that one time he came home from a fanmeet where him holding hands with a fan quickly went viral not even hours from the event.

"Y/n-ah, sorry about earlier. I promise it's all fanservice..."

Your boyfriend says as he sinks into your cuddles by the couch.

"No, don't worry, it's okay, it's okay, as long as you know who you're supposed to come home to~ hehe~"

Most of the time, situations like these ended in playful banter as you always wanted to lighten the mood. However, deep inside, it actually pulled some strings in your heart. Had circumstances been different, it wouldn't be a problem for you to hug him in the street, post couple pictures on insta, or at the very least, love him without hiding from the public eye.

Before you even realized it, a year has passed since you two started dating. For your anniversary, you decided to buy him a ring which was crafted with pure silver and adorned by his birthstone. The night you gave it to him, he couldn't believe his eyes—he swore to himself that he'd say yes if that was a proposal, but luckily, it wasn't, cause he wanted to be the one to propose instead of you.

From that day on, he never took the ring off. To him, it bore the same weight as an engagement ring, and in his mind, you two are engaged. In the same way, you also never took off the matching pair he bought you, which was considerably more expensive than his.

Months later, Minghao had a scheduled interview with a famous designer company for his remarkable style in his previous fashion shows. The interview went well for the first few minutes, with questions purely about his aesthetic preferences and the like. However, when a luster of light from his ring's sparkle caught the interviewer's eye, all attention was drawn into the ring.

"Minghao-ssi, that ring looks really nice, where did you get it from?"

Confronted with a sudden question, he internally panicked and thought of excuses to cover up the fact that the ring was given by his lover.

"Oh this?"

"... I just bought it overseas, I really liked the design."

With a sheepish smile, he cautiously thought of his next words.

"Wow, you've got really good taste. Romantics from all around the world usually come to that brand to buy engagement rings."

Denying his lover in front of the cameras made his heart ache and filled him with guilt, but he knew that it was for the best.

"Speaking of engagement, do you have plans of finding love in the near future?"

For the second time, he lied.

"I haven't found the right one for me, and I'll be waiting for love to come."

He shared a few giggles with the interviewer as they shifted the topic, with the latter even joking about introducing him meet his daughter. That light-hearted exchange later circulated around the media for Minghao's elegance and playfulness, leaving everyone smitten by your boyfriend — except for you who only turned off the laptop with a heavy heart.

Minghao had said beforehand that he'd come home late, and so you went straight home, just to compose yourself before going straight to sleep. Today has been a bad day—your worthless manager asked for major revisions on your proposal that he didn't even bother to read, your family abroad asking for help after your brother got into an accident, and that newly released interview you just watched. The last thing you wanna do is to confront Minghao over his words, and so you decided to head straight to sleep to avoid him.

Upon reaching home, you lay flat on the couch while dropping the bags to the side. For a few moments, you just stare at the ceiling—contemplating whether you're being reasonable or just upset at Minghao for the wrong reasons. Suddenly, you heard the keys to the main door getting unlocked. It was just 7pm, how could he be here? Knowing that you can't pretend to be asleep within a few seconds, you grab you bag and fix yourself before he opens the door, pretending to just be leaving.

"Honey, hello, I missed you"

Minghao said while smiling, walking up to you to give you a hug. Still conflicted, you just nod and stay still, refusing to return his hug. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek to make sure it wasn't just fatigue causing your cold demeanor, but as soon as he saw your blank face, he knew something was wrong.

"Y/n-ah, is there something wrong?"

"Nothing. I'll be going now"

You keep your back turned against him as you walk toward the door. As you reach the doorknob, he grabs your other hand.

"I've got night shift today."

That was a lie. There was no night shift that day. He beckons you to turn to face him, holding your shoulders and adjusting his position to get infront of you.

"Come on, talk to me. How are we fixing this if you keep shutting me out?"

Finally getting enough of this argument, your emotions spill out, with tears from both eyes threatening to fall.

"Is that ... all I'm worth?"

Seeing a tear fall from your left eye, his expression changes into that of panic and concern.

"Love—"

"So little that you'd ... deny my love...in front of everyone"

You weren't sure when you'd become such a crybaby, but at that moment, you just couldn't stop crying. Minghao, on the other hand, seemed to have picked up on what you were talking about — the interview from earlier where he claimed to have bought the ring by himself.

"We've talked about this, haven't we? I can't be caught in a datin—"

"Could I have atleast been a friend then?"

"I would have been happy being referred to...as a friend...than not even existing at all."

"But that could raise everyone's eyes as to where you stand in my life."

"Is it...a sin to be part of your life?"

With that last line, he was caught off guard, and all he could utter was a weak "I'm sorry" before you left the door.

Still crying, you head to the nearby park to clear your mind. The voices inside your head were having a chaotic meltdown, taking in what has just happened between you and your boyfriend, still thinking about your manager's harsh words from earlier, and worrying over your brother's state—too loud that you couldn't hear the thunders warning of an impending rain. Unbeknownst to you, a man has been following you since you left earlier.

Suddenly, with one final thunder, heavy rain started falling. You run to the nearest bench under a canopy, not minding how wet you are now. Home was too far to run to in the heavy rain.

From the distance, a familiar shadow emerged, but you were too lost in your thoughts to even notice it.

"Honey, please, I'm sorry."

Startled by the familiar voice, you look up to the man, who turns out to be Minghao.

"Why are you here?"

"You just did a night shift last week. It's impossible you're on one again this week"

He may be a very busy man, but he still has your schedule memorized. You just stare at him kneeling below you with your eyes slightly swollen from crying.

"Let's come inside before you catch a cold, hm?"

Minghao sat beside you for a while, waiting for the rain to calm down. While at it, he began holding your hand, rubbing circles on it to calm you down. He didn't talk just yet, afraid that it'll just make you more upset.

The sudden downpour didn't last long and it has stopped raining immediately. Your boyfriend took it as a sign to carry your bag and take your hand to walk you home. The walk back home was quite silent, not until his unspoken sentiments finally came out.

"You know, it's not that I'm scared of breaking my idol image. I'm just afraid that everyone goes after your identity... that's how the media acts, doesn't it?"

Looking at it, now, he's right. You suddenly feel a pang of pain in your chest as guilt drowns you. Maybe you just overreacted because of today's circumstances. Maybe you were actually being selfish.

"I'm sorry I over—"

However, before you could speak, he interrupted you.

"But that doesn't mean I can't protect you. Y/n-ah, give me another chance please?"

He comes in front of you and pleads, his despair and sadness showing through his eyes.

"I'll make it up to you. I'll be more open on showing the world how I love you. I know how bad it must've felt for you all this time we've been together, but I'm ready now, really."

There was nothing but sincerity in his words.

"No—but—it's okay that you don't reveal our relationship to the media yet—"

"Then I'll make it so obvious that anyone with eyes would know."

"... just so that .... they know ... that I already have a muse ..."

You couldn't stay mad at your boyfriend—not when he's professing his love ever so genuinely in front of you. He suddenly becomes breathless as your hands find their way to his cheeks, cupping them before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Uhh....let's get back home before it rains"

He'll never admit it to himself, but he still gets flustered when you kiss him, even after a year of being together. On the way back home, he asks you about your day, and upon knowing about everything that happened, he helps you sort it all out.

From that day on, people online have started speculating him of dating someone. After all, who wouldn't speculate a man who posts paintings of a girl so frequently, having the same face always, just in different backgrounds. The captions weren't any better too, as they were always pulled from chinese romance novels. He never directly admitted to have been dating someone, but also never denied it. It has gotten to the point where Carats began begging him to just reveal his girlfriend instead of acting like a disgustingly lovesick boy. However, he likes to keep it sentimental and private. Maybe one day he'll just surprise them with a wedding ring—but that's for another story.

Author's note: Hello! Thank you for the request! I'm sorry if it's ooc, it's my first time writing a minghao fic (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠) I'm sorry I couldn't put the "they tell everyone" part too because it was getting too long huuhuhuh 💔 Hope u like it!

[babextoken]

Slow like Mold in the Vents in the Wall

✧・┈・chapter 1

pairing: vessel x fem!reader summary:  you're running from something (and your) and find yourself as the lone girl on staff at one of the few video rental stores left in the area. everyone sees you as good coworker, if not a bit of a wallflower, expect for one. Ves sees right through your mask. And you hate him for it. wc: 1.9k head's up: series, slowish burn, enemies to lovers, coworkers, plus size reader, nerd!vessel, rude!vessel, hitting on people at work, reader and ves are a bit unlikable, slightly jealous!vessel, gatekeeping, Taylor Swift slander (it was for the plot, I'm not interested in entertaining this), tragic reader backstory, idiots who aren't in love YET a/n: I am both terrified and excited to share this. it's a mix of requests, my own thoughts, and my own ways of working through things while keeping that boy in a situation ♡ 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ Situation Enjoyers™: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga-sustenna @adenobabe  @jeriiicho @milk--bones  @myaudiocommentary  @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @killed-by-thegods @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi  @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder  @evisnotok @cheomain @chaosandchaos @object-of-my-desire @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland @blvckmvgicwoman @canopies-of-gold-and-evergreen

recommended listening:

Vessel’s talking again. About nerd shit. Always with the nerd shit.

It started as a chat about video games. Sure, fine. Then it became video game soundtracks. Bit out there for some, ok. But then it veered to music. The question is posed, again, (because most zone out) about what kind of music Ves likes and makes on the side. But it only got worse. Everyone saw the change happen in slow motion; Vessel’s brows shot up, his dimples deepened, the normally soft spoken, stoic demeanor he had turned almost frantic. The music theory professor was in…and all because a sweet plump little thing beside him piped up saying, “An 11/8 time signature? That’s not even a real fraction!” 

Vessel didn’t know you yet. He saw you come in for your interview and onboarding but didn’t bother to approach you. Welcome you to the video store. At first he thinks you’re fucking with him. Busting his balls for the time signature thing, but you’re persistent. 

“No, seriously, how would that even sound? Come on, explain like we’re back in music class.”

The sheer glee radiating off this man could power a small country. He takes on a matter-of-fact but kind tone as he claps out the beats and explains what one could accomplish with such an interesting and complex and… It all fades out. You’re listening, yes, but you’re not retaining. The fact that you watched him go from a quiet participant in this little conversation you were cornered in to someone who was confident and expressive was, honestly, really hot. He’s tall enough that you have to lift your head a bit to look him in the eye, making you feel a bit like you’re being lectured. Guided. If the thought-police are real, they should put you away now because this is…really fucking hot. 

But Ves is none the wiser. He’s now moved on to name dropping bands that excel at weird time signatures and that even though math rock and progressive metal both utilize it they’re actually, in essence, quite different and that—

“You know, honestly,” you look around and whisper almost conspiratorially, “I don’t know any of the bands you just mentioned but—”

Vessel interrupts you, as nerdy boys on a roll are want to do. “Well, yes, that’s to be expected, but just because they—“

You raise your chin and your hand to stop him. “Hold on, I wasn’t done.” His face falls. Damnit. He’s done it again. He’s info-dumped too close to the sun to a new coworker, much less a GIRL. “I was going to say that maybe you could help me…expand my musical horizons,” you say with a tiny smirk. 

“Right! Right, yeah! Pull up your Spotify then and I’ll add some stuff for you.”

Years of being rejected allowed you to mask your disappointment. You shouldn’t be looking for a date at work and especially not at your brand new job. What you don’t realize is that Ves is masking, too. He won’t even give himself the chance to IMAGINE you’re dropping hints about a date. Instead of asking for clarification or, god forbid, explaining yourself further, you sheepishly take your phone out and let him start saving playlists and albums to your library. He hands your phone back, looking smug. 

“There we are…a much needed upgrade. Looks like you needed it…'This is Taylor Swift.’ Come now,” Vessel titters. “Listen to something that pushes the envelope.”

“Hah. Wow, alright.” You scoff with a humorless laugh. 

Oh. 

Cringe. 

Goddamnit. 

Vessel barely realizes now his sarcasm was NOT detected at all. He chuckles nervously and pats your shoulder. “Lighten up. Joking. I’m joking.”

“I actually meant we should spend some time together,” there’s a subtle emphasis on the phrase as your eyes roll back in exasperation, “and talk about it more. Get to know each other. Seems like we dodged a bullet then, hm?” 

Vessel stands there for a bit. Why did she want to wait until another time to talk about this?  Surely she’s just saying this because it’s like when you see an old friend and say “let’s get coffee” and then you never do and…wait. WAIT. “Do you…surely you don’t mean a…a date!” Vessel’s cheeks are stained maroon now from the sheer thought of a DATE. “This really did it for you? Hearing me drone on?”

Your face scrunches as if to say “dude, yes, obviously,” because to you it is obvious. Why not him? Yeah you just met him (and you’re at work. Please do not forget you’re at work) and he seemed fairly safe and nice, but maybe a bit of a gatekeeper-type? Or just a sarcastic jerk. All you know is that now you’re turned off a little. And Vessel’s just gawps at you. Thank god everyone else left to do closing duties when it was clear you two were having a one-on-one. No one needed to see you taking a joke too seriously and Vessel dropping the ball and probably missing out on one of those “for the plot” opportunities. It’s awkward now. Both of you had questionable dating history so no one really knows how to gracefully end the conversation (or have one, it seemed). And maybe you’ve got the right idea by just nodding and pursing your lips saying, “well…good talk,” and walking away to choose some tapes for your Staff Recommendations. 

Thus began the "Great Ignoring." It wasn’t to the point that you called in sick when you knew you were working with him, but you certainly felt a pit in your stomach. But you kept your head down and just worked. That’s why you were here. To start over. And do "The Work," as they say. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to be sent away last year when this big adventure started. Well, “sent away” was an overreaction (or at least that’s what you were told. Must be true then, yes?). You were “encouraged to seriously consider” taking time off and “enjoying a break.” And when paired with a queasy smile, it translated both literally and perfectly into “get yourself together, bitch, and do it far away. Come back when you’re normal.”

Fine. Like a child sent to her room, you huffed and pouted as you planned your mini vacation that instead turned into you completely upending your life a county over. No big deal! But beginnings are overrated. Finally getting some distance between a certain ex-boyfriend and a life you were comfortable with does not evoke feelings of “fresh starts.” It’s a death within and of itself. The physical move was easy. You didn’t own much. Such is the nature of breaking off an engagement that was over long before you even left. Long before the first emotional blow was struck. Family and friends offered more than you thought you deserved—money, secondhand furniture, food, the number of “a guy.” It was too much for you. The kindness didn’t cancel out any of the cruelty, and the small cruelties were magnified. 

Vessel gatekeeping “superior” music should have been the equivalent of a gnat in your general vicinity. You know it’s there, it’s not bothering you immediately, but when it does you can wave it off. No. For you it was worse. It was coming home knowing mom was mad at you. It was facing the tribunal. Or at least that’s how it felt. Normally he just ignored you, which gave you great comfort and dread. Comfort because “ok, he has no reason to bother me,” and dread because “ah shit the other shoe is about to drop and it’s gonna fucking suuuucckk.” 

“Hey are you listening?”

Fingers snapping drags you out of your haze. 

“Jesus. Come on, please tell me you actually sorted the new releases." Vessel, looking tired as usual, leans against the counter with his arms crossed and waits with bated breath for your answer. It was the dreaded closing shift with him. 

You return his tired gaze with a blank one, proffering your hand towards the fully stocked end cap boasting “New Releases? More like New Favourites!” 

The heaviest sigh comes out as he throws his head back, exposing his neck. You’d been here only a month but you were already keenly aware of Vessel’s body. You’d seen him do this multiple times a week. When a customer was difficult. When the regional manager had some asinine quota. When you…well…existed? But that got you acquainted with the delicate column of his throat. The strength of the sides sloping into his traps. Despite him icing you out, he was still hot.

“Yes, V. It’s stocked.”

“S’all you had to say. Taking my 15. Cheers.”

“Hey, on your way out can you take out th—“ but he’s already gone, “…trash?” You sigh heavily. “Fucker.” 

Not two minutes later, a lone guy comes in. He gives you a polite wave when you welcome him in, seems nice enough. Probably the kind of guy who knows exactly what he wants, he’ll pay, and that’s it. But he lingers for a bit at the Staff Recs with a big grin. He picks up one of yours, the third of a wacky but popular horror franchise. 

“This one yours?” He asks with a quirked up grin. 

You laugh softly and do a little bow. “That it is. And I’m not going to apologize for it.”

“Oh you shouldn’t.” He shakes the box as he refers to the movie saying, “this subverts tropes as much as it regurgitates. People should apologize for shitting on it!”

“Exxaaccccttttlllyyyy,” you exclaim. 

Finally. Someone who matches wits. You enjoy an animated conversation with about the franchise, the rumored reboots, other franchises…it’s refreshing. You barely realize Ves has come back from his break. He squeezes by you at the register mumbling, “lucky there isn’t a line right now.” But you ignore it. You have a handle on this. As you’re finally ringing up the guy, he mentions a series he thinks you might enjoy. And when you tell him you’d never heard about it before he gives you a smirk and leans forward as he takes his receipt.

“Maybe we should get together sometime…could get the box set. Takeaway even?” He winks. “Be seeing you.” He does a quick nod behind you, and you realize it was to Vessel, who was sulking in the corner of the little checkout boat.

“Oohhh let’s get together and talk about it…you’ll have to tell me all about it…I don’t know aaaannnnyythiing about anything,” he mocks. “You get off on that, don’t you?”

“What? Stimulating conversation about media? Yeah. It’s my kink.”

“Smart ass. No! Playing dumb.”

If looks could kill. But Vessel doesn’t care. He returns your icy gaze. “You’re just jealous.”

He scoffs and looks away, cheeks burning. “What’s there to be jealous of? You two aren’t actually going to meet up. Just like when you pulled that shit with me. Honestly…”

“Hah! No. You’re the one who fumbled that. You insulted my taste.”

“And you’re the one who took a joke wrong. And had the audacity to hit on me within your first two weeks here.” You swallow hard. He had a point. Here’s the other shoe dropping, but you weren’t going to run. Or fawn. 

“I deserve that. I’m sorry.” You nod and lower your eyes. 

“It’s…” Vessel seems shocked. Unbeknownst to you, Vessel has received maybe 3 genuine apologies in his whole life, each from family. “All’s forgiven.” 

A sheepish smile pulls at your lips.  “I’m going to take that trash out, yeah?” You say referring to the trash you had wanted him to take care of. He doesn’t protest and even thanks you. 

As you’re tossing the garbage in the alley, you realize immediately…you’re not alone. 

[kkuraissante]

✧ ultimate bias ✧

In which y/n is a big fan of Sakura (ft. aespa!y/n)

[y/n confessing her love for Sakura during an interview]

“so, y/n who is your celebrity crush?” the radio host in front of her asked. 

hearing the question, the rest of her members looked at each other, sharing a knowing glance. “huh, well… I think some of the fans may noticed it based on my phone wallpaper, but my celebrity crush is sakura from le sserafim.” y/n admitted shyly, lightly scratching the back of her head.

“I actually became her fans during pd 48 and have been her fans ever since. You don’t know how happy I was when I heard that she will debut again into a new girl group after the disbandment. I cried so hard after watching the intro videos,” y/n confessed. 

karina laughed after hearing her comments, “yeah, you wouldn’t believe how crazy she is for sakura. she collected albums and merch, basically a hardcore fan”.

“no, but do you guys remember how she sneaked out of the dorm during our free time to attend izone fansign? It was legendary. She talked our ears off about sakura that day” giselle added, groaning at the memories. 

the host and members laughed hearing the remarks. 

“well, I mean, who could blame me, she was perfect. a literal angel.” y/n tried to defend herself. “hopefully I will be able to go to her fansign again” y/n sighed happily at the thought. 

“you heard it guys, you need to steal y/n heart from sakura” the host joked.

[y/n’s room tour during her vlog]

“hi guys, today I will be showing you my room” y/n waved at the camera, standing outside her bedroom door. 

“so, here is the entrance. this is a custom-made sign that I bought on the internet and essentials to keep my sanity,” y/n gestured to a red sign that read ‘yoo jimin do not enter unless permitted’ in the middle of the door.

opening the door, y/n waved her hand excitedly for the camera, “welcome to my sanctuary.”

“first thing first, this is my closet, it’s a little messy since we’ve been busy these past few weeks, but its usually not this bad, I promise!” y/n said seriously, raising her pinky finger up.

“here is my desk, with my gaming setup. I’ve been playing valorant and lol whenever I’m free. over there is my keyboard and guitar wall. the black guitar is a gift from jimin unnie and the white one is from taeyeon unnie. this is actually my first guitar that I bought with my money” y/n showed everything before raising a red fender Stratocaster, showing it proudly. 

“moving on, this side is the bed. it looks comfy right?” y/n shoot the bed before raising the camera upwards, showing the hanging shelf, filled with albums, mainly her senior and izone albums. “and here is my album collection. most of these are gifts from sunbaenim during promotion and the only albums that I bought myself are the izones one” y/n smiled proudly at the camera. 

“look, this one is signed by all members” she showed the bloom*iz album. “Sakura was so pretty during this era,”

“and this is my photocards collection” y/n opened a photo album. “it’s mostly Sakura but I have other people too. this one is my favorite,” y/n raised sakura perfect night pc, “she look so cute with the glasses right?  oh!  I also want to flex a little, are you curious? this is not sakura, but I really like it” y/n show off a chaewon photocard. “ I think this is one of the rare photocard and are sold very expensive, so i’m really happy that i have it. also, chaewon-ssi looks so pretty here"

“so, that’s all for my vlog. thank you for watching the video. I love you MY’s, byee” y/n blowed a kiss at the camera before the vlog ended. 

[karinanana]: y/n is literally one of us

[y/n_wife]: I never expect that I will finally see an idol that collect photocards

[fimmily222]: y/n is the biggest sakura stan. we have an idol piona!!

[amboya.amboya]: I know the rest of her members are tired hearing her fangirling over sakura. look how much she rambled about her throughout the vlog. 

[thirstyfory/n]: the rare chaewon pc is killing me

[y/n showing her things during live]

“hi! Welcome to my weverse live!” y/n grins at the camera in front of her before reading the comments on her phone. 

“unnie, what items has you bought recently?” y/n read out loud. she scratched her chin before standing up abruptly, “wait a moment guys, let me pick some stuff up” she apologized, moving out of the frame, towards her bedroom. after 5 minutes she came back, holding a bunch of stuff on her arms.

“sorry for the wait but I’m back! let me review all the things that I bought recently” 

“first thing! its a t shirt” y/n raised a white t shirt, “it’s very cute right? i bought it in Japan during one of our schedules”

“this hoodie is also bought in Japan” y/n raised a black chrome hearts hoodie, “now I have a matching hoodie with Sakura” she blushed slightly at the thought.

remembering that its live, she tried to change the subject, quickly picking up the next item which is a headphone accessory. “oh, I bought it because it look cool, like, why does sakura always wear the coolest stuff” y/n whined at the camera. “she’s just so perfect”

“and the last thing is this” y/n raised a big basket filled with knitting yarn and needles. “I’ve noticed that sakura has been knitting a lot recently and I want to also try it. maybe trying to give her a handmade beanie if i succeed later”

“this is the first thing that I make” y/n picked up what looks like a knitted leaf. “it’s for headphones, but I think I screwed it to the point its unrecognizable, it’s way too crooked and ugly. minjeong teased me the other day saying that a year old could do it better than me” y/n pouted, remembering the teasing that she has to endure from her members that day.

“let’s move from my bad knitting projects…”

[monkebearness]

Our Story, Like a Romance Novel [Chapter 0]

Chapter 1

Tags: fluff, angst

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this has been stuck in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to start posting them, while I keep on wrinkling my brain for more ideas and writing new stuff. this will have multiple characters, but the main ones will be revealed by the end. there is no smut on this chapter. it has more plot, but if you're still interested, I hope you like & enjoy it!

A young man stands in front of his open locker, buttoning up his vest before loosening his neck tie while looking at the casual attire that he’s worn earlier today. Scanning the room, he realizes that he’s the only one left in there. He tightens his tie once again–but not too tight. He inhales his hesitation, takes a deep breath, and gulps down his doubts.

Let’s do well today, he thinks to himself, perhaps the eighth time he’s told himself those same words. He closes the locker shut and walks to the door leading to another room in silence, joining the rest of the kitchen crew with a determined mindset. He faces two of his superiors–the head chef and station chef–and greets each of them with a deep bow.

“The team and I have already gotten you through the basics,” says the head chef, Geum Junghoon, to the newbie. “We’re guessing that you are now ready to work with the rest of the crew?

Yook Daewon takes one quick but careful look around the kitchen, keeping his smile and honorable ardor towards all his new employers and fellow colleagues, chefs, and servers, gathered in the same room for an event they have been preparing for the past few weeks. Despite the head chef’s lower baritone voice, Daewon only feels encouragement from his polite presence and approachable demeanor.

Mirroring the positive briefing of his employer, Daewon adjusts his tenor voice to sound more robust and confident with his light tone. “Ne, Chef! I am ready. Thank you so much for accepting me for this job. I will not disappoint you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, Daewon-ssi?” The station chef, Jeong Hyerin, teases Daewon with her question while squinting her almond eyes to intimidate him. “This is a big night for the company. We can't risk making any messes… Especially not around our guests.”

“Yah! Go easy on him,” Junghoon immediately whispers to Hyerin, but she holds in her laughter. “It’s his first night. He proved himself last time, if that’s not enough for you.”

“Are you Daewon-ssi, Chef Geum?” Hyerin shoots a sarcastic remark back at her own superior, imitating a drill sergeant even with her light and comical tone. He raises his eyebrow at her, even if he knows that she’s messing around.

“It’s okay, Chef,” Daewon tries to simmer down the two from bickering, not realizing that she’s goofing around with him to lighten up the mood of the room. “And I’m ready, Chef Jeong Hyerin-nim. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t pass the interview, so I will do my best!”

“Well…” Hyerin smirks at Junghoon before raising her thumbs in approval. “I believe he just passed my final test.”

“How was that your final—Whatever…” Junghoon can only chuckle before looking at the corner of the kitchen in hopes of calling for the third superior’s opinion. “Chef Gong Yubin-nim! How about you? What’s your evaluation?”

“Chef, anyone’s good enough for me, as long as they’re doing their job right,” Yubin only answers him at the same tempo she’s dicing a bundle of onions on her board. She stops to look at Daewon. “So I don’t need any words from you, new guy. Just do well on your job and don’t mess up… Hyerin-ssi, come here and help the rest of us out, will ya?”

Junghoon and Hyerin couldn’t help but nod and filler words in agreement to Yubin.

Daewon quickly raises his arm to the sous chef. “Oh, I can assist—”

“No, it’s fine!” Hyerin politely stops him. “I’ll do it. There will be plenty of tasks for you to do later on. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Best of luck out there!”

“Kamsahamnida, everyone!” Daewon bows to everyone at the kitchen, including the station cooks, and his fellow waiters and waitresses, as most of them reciprocate his polite and respectful gesture. “I will do my best on the job!”

All waiters and waitresses then at Hyerin and Junghoon, just as the former rushes to Yubin at the other side of the kitchen as they both chop tons more veggies with the rest of the crew, the station and junior chefs, and the porters.

Daewon sees the chefs argue while washing the goods, much to his perplexion. How can these cooks quarrel and still work together so well at the same time? If he wants to keep working there with them long enough, then maybe he can find out, but that shouldn’t be his business.

“They’re often like that, don’t mind them,” Junghoon nonchalantly assures him. “If you need help or question about anything, do not hesitate to ask any of our cooks, as well as your fellow servers, arachi? We have each other’s backs here.”

The City That Never Sleeps is a name that can pretty much refer to any well-known city across the world. New York was probably the first. There are others like Tokyo, Madrid, Manila, Sydney, and Chicago. But here in Korea, they also have a few of their sleepless cities. For one, Seoul is a city that doesn’t think of sleeping, as do most businesses and parties taking place here. And for tonight, it is both here in Daewon’s new workplace.

The clock strikes at 6:00 in the evening, alerting all of the crew in the Kitchen to line up.

“Well, then,” Junghoon tells his entire crew. “We believe all of us are finally suited to start. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Welcome to ModHaus.”

It’ll be a long night. One they can’t sleep on, especially if they don’t do an optimal job.

Daewon was just accepted at the company last week. At the age of twenty-six, he’s had enough work experience to make a living, but rarely any promotions to keep past jobs. Tonight at 6:50, the Kitchen has a lot on their plate to fill in, literally, thanks to its big event concerning the future of their head corporation in the next five years or more.

Daewon’s job isn’t restricted to anything, as he went from job to job in the past. Joining this company was a surprise for him too, as everyone else whom he’s now working with, but he’s here now. And he doesn’t wanna fail his employers or disappoint his colleagues. Whenever he’s waiting at the lobby with his two feet, he looks around the grand scenery of elites and financial giants in front of him. He can never imagine himself being one of them, talking to each other about shares and projects, complimenting or backstabbing someone based on their looks or laughing about their trivialities, at least as rich folks.

Taking place at the Grand Hotel’s Central Ballroom, the guest list of this event includes businesspeople, philanthropists, and celebrities across Asia and a few collaborators who flew all the way from America and Europe. Without a doubt, it is a luxurious event for its guests, but intimidating for the staff that prepared it.

A woman in a blue dress takes a glass of mocktail from a server. “Thank you.” After a sip, she faces the guest beside her, a man in a black and purple suit. “I hope you’re not having doubts about our collaboration tonight, Mister Kim.”

“Not at all, Miss Yoon,” Kim Chungho says to her with a suave and nonchalant temper. “ModHaus has been one of the top rising companies in Korea in the past four years! How can we miss such a wonderful opportunity to work with you? It’s an honor for us and our company to be invited here tonight.”

“So is ours, Mister Kim!” exclaims Yoon Seoyeon. “What you and your company have been doing with fast and high quality livestock production is something that our country needs more than ever. We’re more than grateful that you delivered our Kitchen with your best supply for tonight.”

“That’s our pleasure!” Chungho receives her compliment well. “But speaking of products, When will dinner be ready? I’ve heard nothing but praise about the cuisine made by your ‘Kitchen’ and honestly, I’ve been anticipating how you’ll be cooking our products… I even skipped lunch today!”

Seoyeon chuckles in disbelief. “Really now? Well, I don’t advice you or anyone to go through a diet like that, but I assure you that your wait will be worth—”

The double doors from the kitchen opened up and eleven servers came out to the seven tables in the lobby, with one of them being Daewon. On their trays appeared waves of uniform yet diverse plates of culinary marvels. From East to West, the first batch of cuisine arrives thanks to the ModHaus waiting staff, starting with the appetizers.

The heads, their secretaries, and their colleagues couldn’t help but take their eyes on the cuisines coming their way. Some mouths water and throats gulp at the sight and scent of food, both familiar and unfamiliar, yet all are appetizing to the senses of each guest who was waiting for their treats. Who wouldn’t be up for a free gala meal?

“Well, how about that?” Seoyeon remarks and her enthusiasm prompts her to request a microphone from a staff member to call all guests. “Attention everyone. Our main meals are ready to serve! To our company partners, all I can say is that I can’t wait to hear what plans and proposals you have for our new collaboration.”

Almost each and every guest slowly sat on their tables, if they weren’t already there to begin with. The servers welcome them with their plates and bowls with a smile before placing each plate of appetizers.

“Enjoy your meal,” Daewon says to a guest with a smile after placing their platter.

It turned out to be quite the formal event. Hosted by ModHaus’ CEO, Yoon Seoyeon, the Seventh HAUS Event begins today, January 4, 2031. This year, its guests consist of about eight heads, dozens of representatives and celebrities from companies, agencies, and affiliate groups across Asia who were invited for this gala at the Grand Seoul Hotel.

As Seoyeon had spoken to him earlier, Mister Park Chungho from Jeju State represents his Produce Domain and has been partners with ModHaus for over eight years as one of its producers of different fresh livestock and ingredients. Now a main supplier for this event, approximately 50% of the ingredients used in the kitchen were delivered by them.

“This is quite the event, Ms. Yoon. You should be proud of this achievement,” a tall and slender woman in a dark red dress tells Seoyeon from her seat, located on the opposite side of the long dinner table. Her elegant presence garners everyone’s attention inside the room, man or woman. “And that dress… You look smashing today!”

“Oh, it’s such an honor to hear that from you. The Fashion Queen herself!” Seoyeon laughs as she can’t help but feel flattered. “But I don’t think tonight would’ve been this festive and glamorous without the designs and decorations you provided us, Miss Zhou. They simply take after you.”

“Of course, they do!” With a giggle, the guest in red dress takes in Seoyeon’s compliment to heart. “They're my precious babies, and what better nursery will help them grow and fit in with local customers than ModHaus.”

Miss Felicia Zhou hails from China, representing the Qian Fashion Imperium, though she had spent a few years in Korea during her youth. Her family company was known for cooling down any tension between her nation and their more belligerent neighbors alongside their allies due to the supreme quality yet affordable and accessible clothing they design, produce, and sell to customers worldwide. A well-known celebrity herself, Felicia is known for her past as a talented, award-winning actress and model, until she stepped down to join her family’s business from the moment it first expanded globally.

“That’s some analogy,” another guest comments from Seoyeon’s side of the table while the two continue to have a laugh with their seatmates. But due to her shining bracelet, Felicia cannot help but surprise her attention with a compliment.

“Princess Bunraksa! Oh, that’s a beautiful bracelet you have,” Felicia exclaims with glee, reaching her hands to her wrist. “I don’t I’ve ever seen that from your latest collections.”

“Thank you, Miss Zhou,” the princess chuckles at her excitement. “It’s not there… Yet. But I have to thank Seoyeon-unnie because with our new partnership, our stores can finally unveil the latest releases for this year. And please, just call me by my Korean name, Sullin.”

“Princess… I mean, Sullin-ssi…” Felicia reaches to her hand with a warm smile. “You’ve made the right choice working with ModHaus and Seoyeon-ssi… I can’t wait for your new collection, and I assure you that word will spread out in a flash.”

Hailing from Thailand, Princess Pirada Bunraksa and her family owns one of the largest production of gems, other precious stones, and jewelries—which has been supplying and financing five high-class jewelry stores across Korea since February 2027. When the Thai Princess first joined her family business, she was already in Korea, having accomplished her term as an exchange student. She volunteered to handle the necessary transactions and make the partnerships to establish their first Korean branch in Incheon before expanding to Seoul’s Jongno Jewelry District due to popular demand.

Miss Natsumi Yamada from Japan represents her family and close associates, whose corporation pioneers in tech and robotics manufacturing. They first became partners with ModHaus in its second year as an entry-level company, before Seoyeon’s term.

Mister John Gonzales is one simple and hardworking entrepreneur from the Philippines who runs a company that started to export various native products in the past two years.

Lady Kim Yerim is a renowned Korean-British businesswoman who runs Velvet Sweets, a cafe and bakery franchise that recently took most of the world by storm due to its vast assortment of innovative, delectable, and irresistible pastries and caffeinated drinks that first caught the palates of MZ and Alpha customers since their first opening.

As ModHaus also emphasizes on the welfare of its workers’ well-being, they’ve become close associates with Doctor Lucas Tan from Singapore, who has been the head of one of the leading world healthcare and newer pharmaceutical companies since 2027.

Finally ending in the industry of comfort, Mister Nguyen Lahn from Vietnam runs and represents his family line's greatest exports: furniture and textiles, and they have been providing fashion companies like Qian with high class materials, while maintaining an eco-friendly means of production, something that ModHaus also strongly advocates.

All these eight heads of companies across the globe have chosen to collaborate with one of the largest and most influential companies in Korea and Asia for some of their latest line of products and upcoming programs. Daewon took turns with his six fellow servers between serving food and waiting for the chefs’ signal. While he could not understand every single detail of the long talk between CEOs and representatives, as if he is even allowed to listen to them and their matters to begin with.

“I’m thankful to all of you for attending this gathering,” says Seoyeon. “To some, if not most of the public, this may seem like any other ordinary gala where we just spend our money on drinks and amusements and there’s no doubt about that. But I would like to take this night more as a way for us to unite and harmonize our ideals and principles because we want to spend our resources on causes that are bigger than ourselves.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Ms. Yoon,” Chungho raises his glass to her and stands up from his seat in approval. “Since the beginning, I have never regretted my partnership with the company. I’m glad that things are going smoothly under your direction.”

Felicia stands up with her raised glass as well, agreeing with his sentiments about her friend and associate. “It’s our pleasure, Seoyeon-ssi. We know to trust you well in our projects, so all of us should thank you as well for believing in them.”

“To ModHaus,” Sullin joins the two in their joint speech. “The home of possibilities.”

Everyone else at the table follows the three vocal heads as a united toast, raising their glass with nods, smiles, and bows as they look up to the head of their new partnership.

Seoyeon raises her full glass with a smile, touched by the words of her partners and associates, old and new alike. She takes a breath and tells them, “To ModHaus.”

Moments later, they sit down and go on to take delight in their meals while they converse with their seatmates about much less serious talks and possible future partnerships—just as the clock strikes eight-thirty in the evening. The cue for the kitchen servers enter with their trays of various main course meals and pitchers of drinks.

“By the looks of it, tonight looks pretty much like an upgrade from last year,” Natsumi notices. Observing the room must have reminded her of the past company gala, which her seatmates have also been guests in. “I can’t believe how different and similar the ballroom looks now, if that even makes sense.”

Lahn shakes his head. “I’m pretty you said the same thing last year, Miss Yamada.”

“I can’t say I disagree with him, though,” Sullin bluntly voices her agreement. “But the way you said it gave off the wrong impression.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” she retorts, playing her comment as nothing short of an insult to the event. “Come on, you two. Did y’all miss the word upgrade from me?”

“Seoyeon-ssi, I couldn’t be more thankful that you chose to sponsor Velvet Sweets,” says Kim Yeri. “Especially since I was still a newbie entrepreneur from overseas, it was really hard to find a company that we could trust here in Korea. Then you gave us a chance.”

“That’s nothing compared to how much you’ve helped us back then, unnie,” Seoyeon reciprocates her gratitude. “All of you have made ModHaus’ success possible.”

She puts her hand on her right shoulder. “I know this must be a lot of pressure, with all these responsibilities for you to carry, but I believe that Mister Han would be proud of you… With how far you’ve come. This company couldn’t have asked for a better CEO.”

= = =

Back in the kitchen, Daewon stands alone after his heavy lifting from earlier.

“Hey, new guy!” a soup chef, or potager, calls him from his station. “Daewon-nim, right?”

“Yes, I am, Seongsu-nim,” he politely answers. “Do you need any assistance, Chef?”

Just from his fingers, Seongsu looks fidgety. His tummy has been slowly boiling in the past hour, much like the soup he’s been cooking. It won’t be a pleasing sight for anyone. Thankfully, only Daewon seems to notice the potager’s weird and questionable behavior.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I do! I need it now!” Even from his voice, shaking can be felt, as his head must have been pouring sweat for some time. As if he’s holding in something for a while now. “You mind if you’d look over the soup for a bit? I just, I gotta go out for a bit…”

“Oh, okay…” Out of respect, the server has no other words but compliance. “Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, thank God!” Seongsu immediately takes off his apron and hands it onto the server. “This can’t wait. I gotta go—”

Daewon doesn’t bother asking him as the cook rushes through the kitchen’s back door. He is left in front of the boiling pot with no instructions. Time is running as is his fellow servers rushing in and out of the kitchen to serve any additional request from the guests in the lobby. With a familiar broth, the soup looks like it's almost complete. As he stares at the pot, Daewon gulps and puts on his colleague’s apron, staring at the cooking broth.

“Hey, Daewon-ssi,” a fellow server approaches his station. Thanks to the name tag on his shirt’s pocket, Daewon recognizes the person as Kim Chulwoo—another newbie like him. “Are the head’s special soup ready?”

Oddly enough, Chulwoo doesn’t even question why he’s there. “Ummm… I don't think—”

“Will ten minutes be enough?” he interjects a negotiation.

Dispirited by the pressure of the situation, Daewon can only mutter, “Well…”

“Okay!” he immediately answers, signing “okay” with his finger. “I’ll be back by then.”

Daewon begins his new work. Even if it’s not meant to be his station to begin with.

= = =

In the Central Ballroom, most guests have empty plates and bowls, occupied by their conversations about the countless cuisines they’ve just engorged in for the past hour.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe how good the food was,” Yamada shares with the rest of the guests with delight. “Compliments to the chef!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lahn adds. “They managed to nail the spring rolls. I don’t know if it’s the MSG or something but it’s just like gỏi cuốn back home! My family would love to have your recipe.”

“Our Kitchen has a minimum MSG policy,” Seoyeon bluntly declares. “So our recipe should definitely be more authentic than a lot of Vietnamese restaurants in Seoul.”

“Really?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” the CEO admits, yet she still embodies her confidence. “But whatever ingredients we use, our Kitchen never disappoints in making them authentic as they are, especially tonight. But since our main courses are almost finished—they may be less busy now, would you like to meet our chefs and ask them your questions?”

“Considering that our contracts have been settled, it would be our honor to meet them, Seoyeon-nim!” Chungho answers for the rest of the head guests, who nodded with him.

After a few minutes of relaying the message through text, two figures enter the Central Ballroom doors, akin to a dramatic entrance. Having taken off their aprons, Junghoon and Yubin confidently walk toward the table of the heads in their blue coats.

“Everyone, this is our head chef, Geum Junghoon, and our sous chef, Gong Yubin. For the past two years, they have been the two of our greatest cooks here in ModHaus”

“It’s such an honor to meet you two,” Chungho humbly shakes both of their hands.

“The way you placed the sushi and sashimi platter,” praises Natsumi. “It’s exquisite! You even decorated them so beautifully. I couldn’t decide on whether I should’ve kept staring at them or I should have eaten them all by myself.”

“It feels like I just traveled across several countries on this table,” Sullin imaginatively describes her experience to them. “Knowing how our fellow guests are also speaking highly of their native foods, I can’t help but commend your five-star cooking.”

“Oh, that means so much from you, Princess,” Yubin slightly bows out with her palms touching together in gratitude, like a prayer, which Junghoon follows at the same time. With her nod, Sullin chuckles and returns her wai as a form of appreciation to the chefs. “And we thank all of you for your wonderful words about our dishes.”

“But you look kind of familiar,” Lahn looks at the two with his squinting eyes. “Hmm… Actually both of you do.”

“We both partook in last year’s event,” Junghoon tries to help the guest remember. “If that’s ringing you any bells.”

“Yeah, that’s not it,” he shakes his head. “I don't remember meeting any good-looking chefs last year.”

“I don’t think your fiance will be happy to hear that if he was here, Mister Nguyen,” Seoyeon teases him.

“Or our kitchen managers,” Junghoon quips, making the other guests laugh.

“Are you saying neither of them are good-looking, Seoyeon-ssi?” Lahn defends himself. “I’m just saying that these two fine young chefs have a lot of potential to do more stuff outside the kitchens, you know? Have you ever considered getting them publicists or agents? They should get out there more often.”

“I second that!” adds Sullin. “That would help your own brand grow if you promote your Kitchen. Maybe Miss Zhou can even recommend some tips to you! Don’t you agree?”

Felicia seemed like she was staring at both chefs for a while. Either she’s mesmerized or perplexed at the sight of the two. Or both. “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

Yubin adds insight to their suggestions. “Funny you should mention that…”

From outside the room, Daewon peeks through the door’s windows with his fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong. The table where his superiors are standing seems exuberant and joyous with their talks with the two star chefs.

“As much as I hate to interrupt,” an elderly guest taps the head chef beside him. “I would like to ask, where’s the special soup? I believe it has not yet been brought to my table.”

“Soup?” Junghoon wonders. “Are you perhaps referring to the clam chowder we served earlier? We still have a few more in the kitchen, but we can cook you up some more.”

“No,” the elder’s voice starts to sound more demanding. “ I didn’t like that thick soup. I asked the servers if the chefs could cook a soup that is more runny after our meal. That always helps with my digestion and I really need it...”

“Digestion?” Doctor Tan questions the older guest. “Perhaps you have medication?”

“Yes, I do,” he responds. “But it has been our tradition to have soup at the end of every meal. I assume you don’t have any problems with that.”

“I very much respect traditions, Mister Park,” the doctor elaborates his opinion. “But we advise patients to take their meds at least thirty minutes to an hour after they have a full stomach.”

“Doctor Tan has a point,” Seoyeon agrees. “Perhaps the soup can wait, Direct—”

“No, it can’t,” the old guest maintains his stubbornness, slowly raising his voice to the respectful doctor. “I’m not your patient. I can’t and won’t drink my medicine until I’ve had my soup. Now, where is it?”

“It’s okay, Doctor Tan,” Junghoon deescalates the “conversation” between the guests. “Mister Park, I’ll have the station cook in the kitchen follow it up right now.”

“I’ll handle it, Chef,” Yubin interjects, bowing to the guests before taking a walk towards the door, enclosing her right fist in a manner as if she's squeezing an invisible stress ball.

But just as when they need it the most, two servers arrive at the room. They surprise the guests with their presence while pushing a server trolley containing bowls and a pitcher of what seems to contain the anticipated after-meal soup of the night. “We apologize to everyone! Apologies, Mister Park, but we have your miso soup right here.”

“Finally!” exclaims the elder guest at the sight. “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long.”

“What were you doing?” Yubin whispers to the servers. “How long did they cook this?”

“The chef had an emergency,” the female server answers her with a hint of nervousness. “A server took over his shift and we didn’t know—”

“What?” Yubin’s eyes widen at the news, yet they maintain their sharpness. “Who?”

The server gulps at her superior. But just as she can answer the chef and while Junghoon helps with serving the rest of guests with their own bowls, they witness the reaction from the very guest who takes the first sip of soup. The one who requested it.

“What is this?” The elder is taken aback by the taste of the miso soup, shocking the chefs and confusing the rest of the guests. “Can I get the chef who cooked this soup? This is…”

“Is there any problem?” Junghoon asks the question his crew is too nervous to ask. They can only keep their fingers crossed—as the dead air only leaves them paralyzed in fright.

= = =

Minutes later, both chefs now returned to the kitchen. Yubin picks up the knife on the counter in front of her and throws its razor sharp blade straight into the cutting board. Her subordinates freeze and shudder at her wrath—which she fires straight at Daewon.

“You had one job, new guy! Just the one. It wasn’t hard, but you just had to be late when a major shareholder and former board member had requested his order for an hour!”

Despite knowing how he got there, Daewon blames himself, enduring the sous chef’s tiger-like roar at him while he looks down while her eyes are melting through his soul. Even if he tells the whole truth to her, it’s too late. He’s already taking in bullets to his heart and mind.

“Joesonghamnida! It won’t happen again,” Daewon repeatedly bows to the sous chef.

“Yubin-ah, this is his first day on the job,” Hyerin reprimands her. “Cut him some slack!”

“Consider himself lucky Mister Park didn’t snap like he used to,” Yubin hisses.

“That’s enough, Yubin-nim!” Junghoon silences the room with his raised voice while he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not Mister Park, nor any of the guests have complained. Yes, I know it wasn’t one-to-one with our standard recipe, they liked the soup with how it turned out. They said it was familiar... Authentic even. He was just surprised.”

“Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Daewon lowers his bow to them. “I thought I could handle the situation myself, but I didn’t tell any of you.”

Hyerin turns her head to the root of the issue, standing at the corner of the kitchen. “C’mon now, Seongsu-ssi. Why the hell did you leave him to cook your dish?

“Joesonghamnida, Yubin-nim. Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Seongsu bows at them quickly, mirroring Daewon’s actions. “I had a rough lunch earlier and it just suddenly happened. I didn’t know who else I could hand over—”

“Save it,” Yubin sighs, simmering down from her misplaced outburst. “It’s over. I’m not having any of this. The event’s over… I’ll meet all of you on Monday.”

Heading to the locker room, a quiet Yubin is the first chef to leave the kitchen to pack up.

“Make sure you drink your medicine, Seongsu-ssi,” Junghoon reminds his subordinate with a few taps on his shoulder. “But next time, tell some of the chefs to look over your station, not a server. Arasseo?”

“Ne. I will, Chef.” Seongsu bows. “Thank you for understanding, Sir. Joesonghamnida.”

“Daewon-ssi, we should talk for a moment,” Junghoon calls him just as he calls out to his left-hand woman, considering that his right-hand is no longer there. “Hyerin-ssi…”

Together with Hyerin, she and Junghoon had a word with the young server. A dispirited Daewon follows them, unable to think of any other way of how this night ends for him.

= = =

After about ten minutes, Junghoon exits the kitchen when hears an “excuse me” from the hallway. He turns around to see a familiar face slowly approach him. It's one of the eight heads who sat on the same table with Seoyeon. Fashion Imperium’s associate director— Felicia Zhou. He notices that she’s fixed herself, despite her enticing red dress standing out from earlier. Her hair is now tied and she’s holding a jacket around her left arm.

“I want to apologize for how Mister Kim reacted earlier,” she mutters. “I was aware of his behavior last year, and your crew must’ve been distressed if the same thing happened again. I hope that no one’s getting fired or anything for that matter.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Miss Zhou,” he eases her worry. “You didn’t do anything disrespectful, and my employees are doing much better now, especially compared to last year. From experience, Mister Kim still must’ve been constipated tonight that he was still craving that small bowl of miso soup.”

“That’s fair, because that miso soup was a great addition too,” she laughs at his remark. “You and your crew did a great job with the food.”

“I'm honored that an international celebrity enjoyed what we've cooked for all of you. It’s not rare for us to serve well-known guests, but it seems to be the first time everyone’s full from finishing their meals.”

“I might as well start dining in your restaurant if you keep that up,” she quips.

Both of them chuckle. Their eyes remain leveling at each other and to an extent, their souls. However, it feels as if there’s an invisible barrier that she’s trying to get through while she stares at him. She can't read anything from the man’s polite face. But she's a determined woman, so she holds in her hesitations…

“Geum Junghoon-ssi…” she says his name softly.

“Yes, Miss Zhou?” He seems unfazed when she calls him by his full name, something that only discourages her subtle intention. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not really,” she doesn’t know what else to say, having lost hope about her assumption. “But I just gotta ask. Do you, umm… Remember me?”

It’s not just curiosity that fuels her to ask more questions to this man. This supposed “stranger.” For her, it’s more of a necessity that she hears him. Something is clinging inside her—clenching into her heart—one that won’t let go. Not until he answers her.

“Perhaps?” The chef still doesn’t know what she means. “Since Mister Nguyen also asked us a similar question earlier, have you attended last year’s gala, by any chance?”

“No, umm, but our previous president did. It’s my first time being invited to this event as an associate director of the company.”

“Well... I believe you may have mistaken me for someone else, since I was not the head chef at the time, but thank you so much for your compliment. My staff and I have been preparing the recipes for a week or two, so those words do mean a lot from someone in your position and reputation.”

Their uneasy atmosphere is drowned by the cacophony of noises from the kitchen. Junghoon hears the clattering plates and pans to rattling utensils being sorted out.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to head back to the kitchen and clean up.”

She lost her chance. “O–of course,” she stammers. “It was nice meeting you… Chef.”

Junghoon runs out of the lobby after a respectful bow in front of her. Downcast and confused, Felicia can only bow to him in response. She looks at him from afar. Their distance drifts with every second until he returns to the Kitchen… Not another word. Just a puddle of sorrow rising up and flooding into her heart.

= = =

Outside the hotel lobby, Daewon is back to his casual attire, a checkered polo shirt.

The driver rolls up their window. “Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin calls him. “Do you want a ride?

“Oh, no, no, no!” With his hands, he politely waves away her request. “You don’t have to, Hyerin-nim. I don’t live that far from here.”

“Oh really?” She wonders how far, but she intends to establish boundaries with him. “Well, okay... Stay safe. (waves) Na meonjeo galge!”

Hyerin drives off into the road. Daewon receives a text on his phone, prompting him to pull it out of his pocket. The bright screen lightens up his face with a soft smile. After a fifteen-minute walk to his neighborhood of Chuseon, Daewon meets up with his close friends in front of a nearby convenience store.

At a table, Ji Suhyeon and Lee Kyubok welcome him with celebratory midnight drinks. Suhyeon opens her first can of beer and drinks down her first sip for the night. Kyubok watches his friend with a laugh, before taking a sip himself.

“Yah! That must’ve been so hard for you, Daewon-ah. I wish I had told Kotone when it happened, but darn it! I had to extend my shift for the entire morning and afternoon, I couldn’t even use my phone to call her.”

“I’m fine, Suhyeon-noona,” Daewon calms her down. “It was sudden when it happened… And besides, Kotone-noona was busy interacting with the guests, so we couldn’t talk to each other the whole night, anyway.”

“Still,” Suhyeon groans. “She was the one who recommended you to this job to begin with. The least she could’ve done was tell you a little more details about what you were in for.”

Kyubok pats him on the back. “It’ll be better, Daewon-ah! Almost everyone messes up on their first day or week or month. It’s no big deal.”

Daewon sighs. “Ahh… So much for the ‘home of all possibilities.’ I didn’t even know that getting scolded on your first shift was possible when you tried doing the right thing.”

“Kyubok-ah is right, though,” Suhyeon points out. “It’s only your first day there. I’m sure they’ll understand. At least most of your heads do. Who knows if you’ll get a promotion after finishing that chef’s soup under pressure!”

“I’m just an ant working for those giants,” Daewon scratches his head. “It feels weird working there just tonight. I’m not even sure if it’s worth staying there.”

“I get how you feel. But ModHaus is like, the least corrupt company in Seoul,” she assumes. “At least that we know of. I believe that your crew will take care of you the longer you’re there. Just take it from Kyubok-ah and Kotone-chan.”

“I hope so,” Daewon feels like Suhyeon had just taken away most of his worries from him. “How long have you been working there, Kyubok-hyung?”

“About half a year,” he answers. “But you get what I mean, right? They have some nice and approachable staff. I’m sure the rest of the Kitchen’s no different.”

“Daewon-ah, come on now,” Suhyeon pats him on the back. “You did well tonight, okay? Don’t let some old, snobby, senile shareholder let you down because he got impatient for some digestion soup!”

“But Daewon-ah made that soup for the most part,” Kyubok points out to her. “That’s why he almost got an earful from that shareholder, no thanks to the actual chef who was supposed to be making it.”

“Oh… And I’m sure it tastes good. Probably even better than what that chef would have made!” she confidently remarks. “But my point is, I bet that both ModHaus President Yoon Seoyeon and Head Chef Geum Junghoon did their job to defend you through hell and back.”

“Chef Junghoon and Chef Hyerin-nim did speak for me during that moment, I guess,” Daewon recalls the scene from earlier. “But I don’t know much about President-nim.”

“You should start calling him hyung eventually, don’t you think?” she suggests.

“Hmm, maja!” Kyubok nods. “He was the first to consider Kotone’s recommendation of you, so I don’t see why you can’t be more informal with him one day.”

“Most of the staff were nice and considerate anyway, so I don’t think that’s necessary,” he tells them with a humble tone just before his memory catches up to him, making his eyes light up. “Well, maybe except for that one chef. His second-in-command. The sous chef.”

“Wait, I thought that Chef Hyerin was the second-in-command?” Kyubok gets confused by his statement. “She’s not the sous chef?”

“I thought she was,” Daewon clarifies. “But she’s only a chef de partie, and she was close with the head chef, so I assumed that she’s the sous chef.”

Suhyeon is shocked as well. “Omo, omo, omo. You already have a workplace rival? On your first night on the job? Wahhh, daebak… That must be some record!”

“How the hell did Yook Daewon, the kindest fellow in town, have a coworker who hates him? Do you want us to retaliate against him?” Kyubok adds. “If you want, Tone-chan and I can set up a prank at the cafeteria the next time we see that rude-ass douche.”

“Whatever that is,” a fourth voice answers him, walking up to their table. “I don’t wanna get involved in any more pranks or goofs, okay?”

“And speak of the devil!” Suhyeon calls Kotone out as the latter sits on the vacant chair. “Another late shift, eh? Daewon told me you’ve socialized with a lot of guests tonight. How’d that go?”

“Is someone getting a promotion soon?” Kyubok hypes up, though Kotone isn’t amused. “I’m surprised you even made it to the gala while our team was stuck with paperwork.”

“I don’t even wanna talk about it! And it’s not like my job was any easier up there,” she retorts. “But since we’re talking about work… Daewon, I can talk to her instead. Maybe she can directly apologize to you in your next meeting with Junghoon.”

“I appreciate the intentions, noona,” Daewon chuckles. “But you don’t have to… She might’ve just had a bad memory from Mister Park or something. Besides, I don’t wanna get fired the moment I get back by bringing it up again.”

“Oooooh…” Kyubok is intrigued by the new detail. “So, the sous chef is a woman then.”

Suhyeon grunts at him. “Why did you just react like that?”

A jolt of fear strikes not just Kyubok, but even the other two. “Like what?”

“Like that makes it okay if a woman just assaulted an employee…”

“Noona, I wasn’t assaulted,” Daewon reassures her again. “She just gave me an earful.”

“To a new employee?” she snaps. “What are you guys in, Culinary Class Wars? Hell’s Kitchen? That's unwarranted behavior from a superior if I have ever heard one.”

“Yeah!” Kyubok chimes in the hate train. “That doesn’t make sense. Who does that woman think she is?” He drinks up his can.

“A three-time award-winning chef,” Kotone nonchalantly brings up to them.

Kyubok spills the beer from his mouth like a tight faucet. “What the fuck?”

But Suhyeon remains unimpressed. “So is Geum Junghoon! But has he ever treated his own kitchen staff like shit? I knew Gong Yubin in college, too, you know? That wasn’t like her then!”

“Noona, are you alright?” Daewon senses it. She’s channeling her resentment elsewhere.

Suhyeon sighs in her own defeat. “Yeah… I mean, I don’t know. To be honest... I guess I just wanted a little break from home for just a night. You rarely get that around while raising a little bumpkin on your own.”

“How is Dongwon?” Daewon asks out of concern. “Did you find a sitter for her tonight?”

“Seoah’s taking care of her,” Suhyeon reveals. “She’s practically his aunt at this point.”

“You sure she’s okay with babysitting him all day?” Kyubok wonders. “She’s a sophomore in college now, isn’t she? That kid would probably have a lot on her plate by next year.”

“That’s what I said!” Suhyeon echoes with her slightly raised voice. “But she’s the one who insisted. She said it’s her excuse to see her ‘nephew.’ Yet, then again, if you think about it, she’s doing a much better job taking care of my own child than I am.” She puts her palm on her face and groans. “God, I’m a horrible parent, am I?”

“Yah… Don’t be like that to yourself,” Kotone comes to her defense, holding Suhyeon’s wrist and slowly pulling them down away from her face to assure her. “You’re doing your best as a mother, Suhyeon-ah!”

“Yeah,” Kyubok chimes in. “Especially if you have a kid to look after, I think that having a little me time ain’t that bad. Heck—If being here with us still makes you feel bad, I’m also willing to babysit Dongwon too!”

“So am I, noona!” Daewon joins them with enthusiasm. “I’ll find time outside my shifts. Don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“T--thanks, yeo--reobun,” she stutters. “I don’t know what I can do without you guys.”

“You should know we’re always here for you, Ji Suhyeon,” Kotone leans in for a hug. “Like you’re here, with us.”

Suhyeon can't help but be touched by Kotone’s remarks and the reassuring promises of her friends, she’s holding a few tears from pouring down her eyes. Despite living as a strong and caring single mother for the past three years, she didn’t always feel like she’s alone because of their presence and support.

“Just don’t drink too much!” Kyubok takes her empty can just before she can take a sip. “You’ve had enough cans for the night.”

“Oppa!” she tries to reach for the empty can, but it’s already on Kyubok's side of the table. “That’s not fair! That was only my fourth can.”

“Let Daewon drink some of the beers, too. He’s had a rough first night,” he snaps back.

Getting another empty beer can beside her, Suhyeon’s close friends witness the cylindrical aluminum container slowly get folded and crunched up by her palm with ease while her eyes remain its, instinctively evoking a gulp from Kyubok and a nervous laughter from Daewon. Kotone shakes her head while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m okay, hyung,” Daewon politely declines the offer, holding his cold and condensed unopened can. “I don't feel like drinking tonight. Here, Tone-noona, you can take mine.”

“Thanks, Daewon-ie,” Kotone takes the beer can from him. “Kyubok-oppa’s right on this one. I don't know if you’d like to have a hangover and beer breath in the morning while looking after Dongwon, but I don’t think this habit will set a good example for him.”

“Yeah,” Suhyeon sighs. Listening to Kotone's observation, she quickly cups her own hands and breathes into them to warm and sober up.

“You guys are right. What am I thinking? I should clean up in a bit. You guys better get home soon!”

“Ne, eomma!” Tone playfully answers her, igniting laughter from Daewon and Kyubok.

= = =

The following week has come since Saturday’s gala event. As early as eight to nine in the morning, employees run the office with their gossip, murmurs, and speculations about how the night had turned out. Considering how not everyone got the chance to attend such a grand event, most of the workers can only let their own imaginations run wild. Perhaps exaggerate an incident or interaction. Even if a certain rumor doesn’t have a grain of truth and fact that it ever happened, its “entertainment factor” is enough for them to talk about something and keep themselves motivated for the rest of the day.

“I heard there’s some spicy biz that night!” Miyu rushes to her deskmates in the coffee station. “Did any of y’all hear from the advertising team? Some of ‘em were really wild.”

“I did hear that some guests did it,” Suhyeon adds. “But there were some other things they managed to keep under wraps. You got any guesses on what it could’ve been?”

“Well, I don’t know if this is a big tea,” Chaeyeon whispers to them. “But Joonie-sunbae said that some server from the kitchen almost pissed off one of the board members—”

“Come on, Chaeyeon-ssi, you guys actually believe the advertising department?” Kotone interjects the talk between her colleagues, skeptical at whatever they were discussing. “I mean… If there was any tea that would’ve been spilled at the gala… I would’ve known.”

“Tone-yah!” Chaeyeon and the rest of her buddies get surprised. “Are you sure nothing scandalous happened at the event? You lucky dog… What are you not telling us?”

“At this point, I couldn’t care less whether their rumors are true or not, Tone-ssi,” Suhyeon whines. “Dang! I just wanna hear something extraordinary that might have happened last Saturday. A good office drama will keep us going for the rest of the year.”

“Believe whatever you want girls,” she warns them with a chuckle. “But save some of your tea for later. It’s time for lunch.”

“Tone-ssi… You’re really not telling us anything?” Miyu sounds like she’s pleading.

“Fine! I’ll tell you after lunch.” Kotone gives in to their desperation. “I don’t know too much gossip, but I know some projects that’ll definitely get you excited for the year.”

“Deal!” Suhyeon shakes her hand out of the blue.

Considering that not everyone at the company eats there during every lunch, dining at the ModHaus Cafeteria was not as grand or fancy as its events, but it is just as, if not more hospitable and relaxing to eat there, thanks to their Kitchen’s service and passion to cook up and serve excellent food. Open from Monday to Friday (sometimes Saturday), most of the residents and workers take their time dining while talking about how crappy or superb their day is so far. On some days, friends don’t even have time to eat together.

In the ModHaus Cafeteria, only twelve members of the staff are working at lunchtime.

“I hope it’s not a hassle for you to be working at this hour, Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin tells him. “I know this may be a sudden change in your schedule.”

“It’s okay, Chef,” the newcomer lightens up. “You and Head Chef Geum are the ones who gave me this offer. And it’s one that I can’t say no to.”

“You probably could have if you didn’t want it…” she points out.

“That’s true, Chef,” he nods. “Anyone else could’ve taken the promotion.”

“No. You deserve that promotion as much as anyone else, okay? You’ve proven that you can work under pressure” she defends him from his own misgivings. “Now, do you want us to regret making you an apprentice? Or do you want to prove yourself by learning?”

“I wanna learn, Chef!” He bows to her with enthusiasm, confirming his new position.

It is Tuesday afternoon when the Kitchen’s Head Chef Junghoon takes off his toque and the rest of his uniform, taking a break after cooking during the morning shift, leaving his most trusted crew to run it throughout the afternoon shift. Unfortunately, his usual hour of peace and relaxation becomes a state of confusion and discomfort the moment he sees the last face he expects to meet in this building.

The same woman who approached him outside the Grand Hotel’s kitchen. He can see her talking to her assistant. “I can take it from here, Yoojin. Use this company card to treat the rest of the teammates. Just like yesterday, arachi? Have fun!”

The latter bows to her and walks away from the cafeteria, while the woman follows him as she waves at him, like any other coworker who hasn’t seen their colleague in a while.

“Good afternoon, Miss Zhou,” he bows to her while holding his meal-filled tray. He tries to go on with his usual routine—but he feels the persistence of the woman from his past. Wearing glasses while in a business suit, she looks more or less distinguishable from her more revealing and standout attire since their last encounter, although she still manages to stand out on this one.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here, Chef Geum,” she follows him after falling in line and receiving her own tray of meals from the cafeteria line, only a minute after the chef got his. One of the perks of being beautiful, one would guess. Despite their distant meeting last week, her casualness is restored, showing her willingness to catch up with the man. “I really thought you’d be running a restaurant of your own, but now that I think about it, it makes more sense that you are the head of this cafeteria.”

He maintains his silence, while she keeps walking behind him. “Are you not with your team and colleagues, Miss Zhou? I just saw one of yours walk away just now.”

“I wanted to be more acquainted with this place myself,” she answers. “My team wanted to treat me to lunch, but I gave them my card instead so they could eat somewhere fancy outside... It's the least I can do on their first day joining my team.”

“Why didn't you go with them?” “Surely, a woman of your position would be more comfortable dining at a luxurious restaurant.”

“Is there anything more luxurious than The Kitchen who served us the most diverse and delicious cuisine at the gala?” she flatters, though the chef himself is not too amused. “If I’m gonna start working with ModHaus in person, I’d rather spend more time and get used here, my new home.”

“Well…” Junghoon reaches a vacant table. “Make yourself at home, Miss Zhou.”

She’s still in disbelief, yet deep inside, she feels that his behavior is nor unwarranted.

“Come on. Don’t you wanna talk about anything?” the woman becomes blunt with him, though she keeps her tone amiable. To his ears, however, her persistence is now starting to break through his clueless facade and his wall of politeness. “Do you really not wanna catch up, Mister Geum? It's been years since we’ve—”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Xinyu-ssi,” he finally snaps back, even with his low voice. Despite this sudden temper, he puts his tray on the table with no noise for others to hear.

Junghoon immediately realizes what he’s said to her. Xinyu’s eyes widened at the sound of her name. Not Felicia—but her native name. Aish… He thinks to himself with chagrin.

She freezes in shock and awe at his sudden response, even struggling to breath for a second until she mutters her next words. “So you do remember me… Junghoon-ah.”

In the man’s thoughts, he thinks revealing the truth to her would be enough to push her away and walk out of the cafeteria. Even though his heart is feeling the opposite, he just wanted his own sorrow to end. As selfish as his feelings may be, he does not know what else to do in dealing with this situation someone like him would not even imagine. Who knew she’d actually be back? She’s not the same person you knew.

“You were my sunbae in college,” he tells her bluntly. “How could I not remember you?”

“But that night,” she confronts him. “It was like you pretended that we were strangers.”

“We are strangers,” he keeps her pushing away. “Aren’t we, Zhou Xinyu-nim?”

Her heart keeps sinking, but she musters up to go on until she finds the remnants of the same man she used to know. “We used to know each other.”

“We did,” he maintains his coldness. “But I don't think that matters to you now, Felicia.”

She looks down as guilt clenches her heart. I’m guessing he remembers me… Everything about me. But deep inside, Xinyu wants to answer his hurtful remarks. However, just as she would’ve muttered another word, the harrowing silence between them was abruptly broken thanks to someone else’s interference. Another friend who somehow recognized her from back in the day. One who made her reminisce about the better days of the past, considering that the other didn’t when he saw her face once again.

“Zhou Xinyu-nim? Is that really you?” Out of nowhere, Kotone asks her with her mouth agape. Junghoon takes a seat on the corner of the table by himself, hoping to avoid any attention from what’s about to happen.

As she turns to see another familiar face, Xinyu’s reactions are beyond her control. “Omo… Kamimoto Kotone-chan?”

The two squeal as they unleash their joy and excitement. Junghoon cannot help but hide a snicker from the side of his seat. In this moment, he puts his strong emotions aside for the reunion that is unfolding before his eyes.

He's almost forgotten that he's not the only person who’s known Xinyu here from a personal level. Kotone looks at him, but he appears to be focused on taking sips of his soup. Surprisingly, her attire makes her look like anyone else. Everyone seems to be falling for her Clark Kent or Kara Danvers effect. For most workers, Xinyu is just a new employee who’s gonna bring nothing but annoyance, eye candy, or endless curiosities to them—at least in the meantime. Attention from everyone is the last thing she needs right now, so they join the head chef’s table to blend in the herds of corporate life.

“What are you doing here?” Continuing her conversation with the older woman, Kotone lowers her voice just as she takes a seat right beside Junghoon. “I thought you only went here for the gala event?”

Xinyu follows her move, taking the seat in front of Junghoon, as they continue talking. “I’m here to oversee the partnership between my company’s team and ModHaus.”

Kotone steals a glance at Junghoon, quietly taking a bite of a piece of tonkatsu and a spoonful of rice. My God, I can’t believe that things are still rough between these two. After six flipping years? She wonders, before looking at Xinyu once more with a bright smile as their conversation continues after joining the vacant seat on Junghoon’s table.

“Oooh…” Despite her position in ModHaus, Kotone’s formalities begin to drop around Xinyu, embodying the comfort and familiarity of their past as college friends. “How long will you be staying here then?

“Well, I don't know yet,” she humbly admits. “It depends on how our meetings will go... The heads preferred online meetings, but I proposed we also hold face-to-face meetings as well, so maybe I’ll stay here a little longer so I can check the progress of our project in person.” Xinyu takes a quick glance at Junghoon. He’s already halfway through his meal.

“I can’t believe the CEO of China’s top fashion brand is in our cafeteria!” Tone squeals.

“Please. I’m only the Associate Director of the Emporium,” she humbly corrects her. “That’s not even close to the Vice President... And come on, just call me unnie.”

Junghoon looks out to the rest of the cafeteria, noticing some employees trying to take out their phones and aiming their cameras. Thankfully, guards are there to moderate.

“Well… You never know, unnie,” Kotone embraces their renewed casualness. “This is a huge partnership between two of the greatest companies in Asia! If you keep it up, this may just get you promoted by the end of the year, don't you think?”

Xinyu chuckles. “That’s not really what’s on my mind, but we’ll see… For now, I’m just  helping out ModHaus with designing their next installment of clothing among other projects… And get in touch with some of our college buddies if I have time, of course.”

“Sure, you’ll have time!” Kotone hypes up her plans, despite its uncertainties. “And if you’re ever interested in taking a ‘trip down memory lane’ at our university, that can certainly be arranged. I know a few folks working there.”

“That would be great! I haven’t been at SSU in a long while… Wah, I wonder how much has changed here.”

“Oh, you have no idea, unnie. Just you wait.” She looks at Junghoon beside her with a raised eyebrow. “Yah! How about you, Chef Junghoon? You think you have the time?”

Junghoon is only chewing his food until the woman repeatedly taps his shoulder. “Huh…” He swallows and turns to her. “What?”

“Do you wanna tag along with us?” Kotone recalls. “We’re doing a tour of our university.”

“What for?” He steals a glance at Xinyu. She’s looking down at her meal, taking a bite of her salad. She doesn’t know how to face him either, especially not after he acted to her. Junghoon doesn’t know how to feel either. Kotone, on the other hand, is also far from amused by his blasé response to her nostalgic suggestions.

“What do you mean what for? she scoffs at his question. “For old times sake!”

“Who else will be there then?” He challenges her plan.

“Anyone else who we’ve met in college, who else?” she retorts.

“Are you sure this isn’t just one of your half-baked plans that you’re just coming up with now just to prove a point?”

Xinyu can’t help but laugh at Junghoon’s banter, but she prolongs her reaction to make herself look like she’s coughing instead. Kotone smirks at the two right after. Well, well, well… She thinks about them. Who knew? Junghoon shakes his head, but he still smiles.

“It will happen!” she insists to him, pointing a finger to both of them. “Just you wait... And I’m gonna have a good look on your faces once you’re back on campus.”

= = =

No matter how many times he avoided her, it seems that there's always a time and place where the two meet eyes and cross each other's paths. They’re now working in the same building after all. Hours become days. Days turn into weeks. He tolerates her countless persistence through the veil of her elegance and courteousness towards all the workers she passes by across the building, while she endures his attempts at often cutting their interactions short under the guise of the head chef’s busy mundane cafeteria schedule.

Regardless of their movements, the cats are out of the bag between these two. A former actress-and-model-turned-fashion-designer and a respected corporate head chef—only themselves and a few people are aware of their personal history. This game of hide and seek isn’t gonna end anytime soon.

= = =

February. It’s way past midnight on a Friday. The head chef had finished organizing and locking the kitchen by himself and is now making his way outside the ground floor of the parking lot to exit the building, considering the main entrance is closed during this hour.

A car stops beside him. He tries to look through the driver’s window out of curiosity, but it’s too dark to recognize anyone from outside. The driver rolls out their window to face Junghoon, revealing to be none other than Xinyu herself. “Where’s your ride?”

“I don't have any,” he bluntly tells her.

His answer confuses her. “What do you mean you don’t have–?” To the point that trying to make sense of it irritates her. A high-paying chef doesn’t own or drive a car? “Wait. Is this one of your excuses to avoid me again?”

“No, I’ve never had a car,” he tries to answer both her questions. “And I’m not avoiding you… I, umm, usually take a walk to the bus stop, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

“The bus stop?” she scoffs in disbelief. “At this hour?”

“Yeah..? I don’t own a car,” he tells her, hoping it will throw her off and she’ll leave him.

Xinyu doesn’t know if she feels annoyed or dejected about his distance towards her. How he keeps pushing her away now. It didn’t matter because she feels both. In her heart and mind, the woman feels compelled to take initiative in this weird dynamic between them. It’s the least I can do, she thinks to herself. She sighs before looking back at him.

“Get in the car,” she tells him with a straight face.

That’s a response he doesn’t expect to hear from her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take you to your apartment…” she shakes her head. “I–I mean drive you there.”

“Thank you for your offer, Zhou Xinyu-nim, but I can still catch the bus.”

“Please don’t give me that honorifics crap, Junghoon-ssi. I’m not here to kidnap you… And besides, it’s already late. Do you really think you can still get a ride out there?” She looks down, hiding her sorrow towards him. “And besides, you don’t have to talk to me.”

Junghoon takes another look at the distance, down the streets. The stop had little to no bystanders. He takes a quick glance at his holographic wristwatch. It’s already 1:44 AM. She has a point. What am I thinking? Junghoon walks up to Xinyu’s car, to which she clicks a button, opening the door to the front passenger seat. But his hand reaches the door beside it, on the back seat. Awkwardness fills the air between the two, but Xinyu rolls her eyes and quickly opens the back seat door. Junghoon immediately opens it.

“Thanks,” is the least he could say to her.

“Don’t mention it.”

Driving outside the ModHaus Parking Lot, she can’t help but steal glances at the back seat through the rear view mirror. He’s looking outside the window. Even in the comfort of his seat, his posture is straight. A bit too straight. She feels the hint of discomfort from him, but his mostly blank somber face and silence tries to hide it.

“Where to?” she asks.

“It ain’t too far from here,” he explains to her. “But I can tell the address to the GPS, if that's okay with you.”

Xinyu clicks on the screen in front of her, activating its built-in digital assistant. He tells AI his address and within seconds, the route to the location pops up. She takes a look at the screen with a nod before easily shifting her gears and stepping on the pedal for this fifteen-minute ride.

He got a new place. Such thoughts begin to pop up in her mind. I mean, of course, he would. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. She can’t help but be curious. Minutes pass, they leave the ModHaus Headquarters. The woman tries to get her mind and eyes off her passenger on the backseat by looking outside the window as she drives across Seoul. Certain memories resurface to her. Ones that put a still smile on her face. Simpler times.

The scenery makes her contemplate. “After all these years, Seoul still looks beautiful.”

“Aside from the bullet trains, brighter and more colorful neon lights, and noisier businesses on the streets, nothing much has changed if you look from a distance.”

“I know I can’t say the same about everything, but…” she smiles at the sight of Seoul. “I’m glad some things stayed, well, the same.”

“I guess some things did,” he concurs, taking another glance at her.

She sets her wheel to semi-autopilot, before taking a deep breath. “Can we talk..?”

“We’re talking right now,” he tells her.

“No, I mean talk about something else,” she continues. “Please…”

Junghoon himself sighs. There’s no energy of anger or resentment left for him, perhaps because that’s not how he mostly feels about Xinyu. Deep down, he feels tired. Tired of running away from her. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just you know,” she pulls anything from her mind just to keep the conversation going. “How have you been?” She starts with the basics. Surely, that one will lead somewhere.

“I’m doing alright.” So much effort from that response.

“You didn't seem like you’re alright,” she snaps back.

“Well, not everyone gets happy days,” he confesses. “I’m sure you can agree sometimes.”

“I can,” she nods. “And you got a point. I guess I’m just stuck with the past and all…”

Such an answer sends a shiver down in his spine. “How so?”

“You're not as cheerful as you were… Not as optimistic as I knew you.”

“You really are stuck,” he scoffs. “Things change… So do people.”

She can only nod. “But hey… It seems you're doing great… You're a head chef now.”

“You also seem to be living a great life,” he agrees. “I guess it was worth it.”

Her nerve is also struck by his words, knowing what he means. “I guess it was…” she whispers, even though such a response is something that she isn’t sure she believes.

They arrive at Junghoon’s residence. A fifteen-story apartment in the middle of a quiet downtown neighborhood in Cheongdam, Seoul. At least it’s quiet this hour. While not the tallest within the block, it's the same height as most of the buildings alongside it.

Junghoon exits the car and bows to her with respect. “Thank you again, Miss Zhou.”

“It’s…” she bows to him, lowering her head from her seat. “No problem, Junghoon-ssi.”

He reminisces about who she was to him. Before the sorrowful memories. Before she left. The thought of her leaving again constricts his heart. Instead of letting his own past spite keep on pulling him into silence, Junghoon takes a deep breath.

“Xinyu-ssi…” he mutters. To him, it doesn’t matter if he’s shameless for calling her now. Let alone if he’s called an asshole for changing his tone when she kept on putting up with his attitude. Screw his own grudges. Screw his ego. Screw himself. At this moment, all his heart tells him that he just wants to see her again. Even if it’s for a second.

“Yes?” She halts the windows from rolling up, looking back at him with a hopeful gaze.

For a moment, Junghoon looks her in the eye. Yet his mouth hesitates to say something else. At least what he wants to say to her. Like any other sane person with a conscience, he wants to make up for what he’s done. For how he’s treated this person like a brick wall for days.

“Take care.”

Close enough. He still doesn’t know what to think of this. What to feel about any of this. Yet it already feels fifteen times better than how he treated her the last time they’ve met.

And so what else can Xinyu do at the moment? She lets out a smile the second Junghoon turns his back and enters the apartment lobby. The woman drives off away from him, yet not a second, could she think without thinking about what just happened tonight.

Entering his room, Junghoon looks through his window and sighs in silence, slowly unveiling the despair on his face in front of the silent and glistening lights of Seoul. Through the reflection of the glass, he sees a glimpse of himself at a time he rarely reminisces, at least at his own will.

Eight years ago.

= = =

so that's the prologue. if some may have gotten confused by the "cover" of this chapter, I'll just clarify that this isn't a harem story lol. but don't worry, I'm not stopping my one-shots and the other series because they're also w.i.p.s. I just decided to give a taste of this one. there will also be smut here, but right now, I'm setting up this series as it is. stay tuned and, as usual, tysm for the read. if you're a wav, don't forget to stream aya & a25! until next time. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

[arasinchahonghong]

I Wanna Be yours ||L.Jh

Pairings - Woozi x femreader

The Unscripted Melody

Woozi had faced countless interviewers. They were a blur of polite smiles, rehearsed questions, and the occasional insightful probe. But Cho Y/N was different. From the moment she walked in, there was an effortless grace, a quiet confidence that intrigued him. She didn't gush, she didn't fan-girl; she simply settled in, her eyes holding a calm intelligence.

The interview began like any other, a familiar dance of questions about music, concepts, and future plans. Yet, as Y/N spoke, her voice a warm, clear tone, Woozi found himself listening more intently than usual. She asked about the nuances of his creative process, the hidden inspirations, the vulnerable moments in songwriting that few ever dared to touch upon. She genuinely wanted to understand the heart behind the music, not just the technicalities.

He found himself opening up, sharing thoughts he hadn't articulated before, feeling an unexpected comfort in her presence. There was a moment, when he was explaining a particularly difficult part of composing "Healing," that he looked up and met her gaze. Her eyes, a rich, warm brown, were filled with a profound understanding, a shared empathy that sent a jolt through him. It wasn't just professional interest; it felt like a connection.

As the interview neared its end, a strange reluctance settled over Woozi. He didn't want it to be over. When she thanked him, her smile soft and genuine, he felt a warmth spread through his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N-ssi," he said, his voice a little softer than usual. "That was... a really good interview."

She just smiled, a gentle blush dusting her cheeks, and the way the light caught her hair, the subtle scent of her perfume – it all imprinted itself on his mind.

Later, as he reviewed the interview footage, he found himself replaying her questions, her expressions, the way she tilted her head when listening intently. He realized with a jiddlering sensation that the comfortable, almost familial feeling he usually reserved for his members, had begun to extend to Cho Y/N.

He found himself thinking about her when he was in the studio, wondering what she would think of a new melody. He’d catch himself hoping to see her again, not for an interview, but just to talk. The realization hit him, quiet and undeniable, like a perfectly placed chord in a composition: Lee Jihoon, the stoic, music-obsessed Woozi, had fallen for the interviewer, Cho Y/N. And the thought, instead of alarming him, felt surprisingly, wonderfully, in tune.

The Melody of Y/N

The studio, usually Woozi's sanctuary of focused creation, had become a canvas for something new, something that hummed with a different kind of energy. Days bled into nights as he wrestled with a melody, a chord progression that felt just right, yet elusive. It wasn't about a concept, or a feeling to be universally shared; it was about her.

He’d catch himself sketching out lines, not on sheet music, but in his mind. The way her eyes crinkled when she genuinely smiled. The gentle curve of her hand when she gestured. The quiet strength in her voice as she asked a particularly insightful question.

The first few attempts were clumsy, too direct, too simple. Woozi, the master of intricate compositions, found himself humbled by the task of capturing a single person. He wanted to convey the unexpected comfort, the gentle understanding, the subtle spark that had ignited within him.

Finally, late one night, as the city outside slept, it clicked. A soft, almost ethereal piano intro, a familiar warmth yet distinctly new. He began to hum, then to sing, his voice a quiet murmur against the silent studio.

The lyrics flowed, unbidden, from his heart:

(Verse 1) The usual lights, the same old questions framed Just another face, another name proclaimed But then you walked in, a quiet, gentle hum And suddenly the noise just felt numb.

(Chorus) Like a melody I'd always yearned to find A harmony that truly soothes my mind In your eyes, a depth I couldn't see before Now every silence whispers, "I want more."

(Verse 2) You spoke of feelings, hidden, tucked away And in your quiet patience, I began to sway Not just the music, but the heart beneath the sound A connection made, on hallowed, sacred ground.

(Chorus) Like a melody I'd always yearned to find A harmony that truly soothes my mind In your eyes, a depth I couldn't see before Now every silence whispers, "I want more."

(Bridge) I write in rhythms, structure every beat But you, you're the freedom, beautifully complete An unscripted note, a surprising, sweet refrain Washing over me, like gentle, falling rain.

(Outro) Just Y/N... a song I never knew I’d compose... My quiet inspiration, where my heart now goes.

He played it over and over, refining, polishing, ensuring every note resonated with the burgeoning feeling in his chest. It wasn't loud, or grand, or full of dramatic flair. It was understated, personal, a gentle confession whispered into the silent air of his studio. He titled it simply, in his mind: "Still Here." Because with her, he felt like he was truly present, truly himself.

[zeroseuniverse]

For zerobaseone

When ZB1’s Idol Crush Is Mentioned in an Interview

Taglist: @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120 @kunkunlele @llunaticc13 @1daily2lele7 @etaernaluvv @hanninova

Jiwoong

Jiwoong is usually composed in interviews, answering questions with a mix of professionalism and warmth. But the moment your name is brought up, there’s a noticeable shift. "Jiwoong-ssi, we heard that you’ve mentioned [Y/N] before as an artist you admire. Can you tell us more about that?" He blinks, his usual calm expression faltering for just a second before a small, knowing smile appears. "Ah… [Y/N]-nim?" He lets out a short laugh, glancing down as if collecting his thoughts. "Yes, I’ve mentioned them before. They’re an incredible artist." The members immediately catch onto his slightly hesitant tone and start exchanging mischievous glances. Gyuvin, who’s sitting beside him, subtly leans in. "Hyung, your ears are getting red," he teases. Jiwoong chuckles, shaking his head. "No, they’re not." The interviewer grins. "What is it about [Y/N] that you admire the most?" Jiwoong’s fingers drum lightly against his knee—a subtle sign that he’s thinking carefully about his words. "Well, first of all, their work ethic is really admirable. You can tell they put so much effort into everything they do, whether it’s their performances, music, or even their interactions with fans." His voice is steady, but there’s something genuine in the way he speaks, like he’s not just saying it because he was asked—he truly means it. The interviewer nods, amused. "So you follow their activities closely?" Jiwoong hesitates for half a second, then exhales a soft laugh. "I mean… It’s hard not to when they’re that talented." At this point, the members can’t hold back. Ricky smirks. "Hyung, you always say you’re too busy to watch variety shows, but somehow, you never miss [Y/N]’s interviews." Jiwoong tries to maintain his composure, but the way he briefly closes his eyes as if regretting life choices says everything. "That’s not true," he protests, though the grin on his face gives him away. Matthew jumps in next. "Didn’t you also—" "Okay, next question?" Jiwoong interrupts smoothly, smiling at the interviewer as if he’s completely unaffected. But the redness in his ears and the way the members won’t stop teasing him tells a different story.

Hanbin

As soon as the interviewer says your name, Hanbin’s smile turns a little softer, more reserved. He nods politely, hands folded in his lap as if preparing to be respectful. "Ah… [Y/N]-nim?" he repeats, as if making sure he heard correctly. "They’re a very admirable artist. Their passion and dedication are evident in their performances." His tone is warm but formal, trying not to let his emotions slip. Then the interviewer chuckles. "You seem to know a lot about them. Are you a fan?" Hanbin laughs, slightly flustered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Of course! I admire them a lot." The members, sensing an opportunity, start giggling and nudging him. Hanbin tries to maintain his composure, but his ears are already red.

Zhang Hao

He blinks once, then smiles—calm and collected as always. "Oh, [Y/N]?" His voice is smooth, unfazed, but the slight raise of his brows betrays his interest. "They’re incredibly talented. Every time they perform, they captivate the audience. It’s very inspiring." The interviewer grins. "You sound like you’ve been watching them closely." Hao lets out a small chuckle, tilting his head. "I mean, isn’t everyone watching them? It’s hard not to when they’re that good." The members let out exaggerated "oohs," and Hao just smirks, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal. But later, when he thinks no one is looking, he subtly checks his reflection in the camera monitor, smoothing his hair down.

Matthew

The second your name is brought up, Matthew’s eyes widen, and he bursts into laughter, already bracing himself. "Oh no," he groans, covering his face. The members immediately latch onto his reaction, whooping and teasing. "Why did you bring up [Y/N]? Now I can’t focus!" The interviewer laughs. "Why? Do they fluster you?" Matthew sighs dramatically. "A little," he admits, still giggling. "They’re just really cool, you know? Their stage presence, their voice—it’s all amazing." He leans back in his seat, pressing a hand over his heart. "Every time they perform, I feel like I have to become a better artist just to match that level." "You’re blushing," Gunwook teases, and Matthew groans, hiding his face in his hands.

Ricky

If he’s caught off guard, he doesn’t show it. Ricky simply tilts his head slightly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, [Y/N]? Yeah, I know them." His voice is cool and composed, but his fingers absentmindedly fix his sleeves as if preparing to look his best. "They’re an incredible performer. Very charismatic on stage." The interviewer raises an eyebrow. "You sound impressed." He leans back in his seat, still maintaining eye contact with the interviewer. "Who wouldn’t be?" The way he says it is so smooth that even the members pause before bursting out laughing. Matthew throws a playful arm around Ricky’s shoulders, shaking him. "Bro, do you have a crush or what?" Ricky just smirks. "I just appreciate talent," he says, but the slight twitch of his lips betrays him.

Gyuvin

The moment your name is mentioned, Gyuvin lets out a loud, nervous laugh—like he already knows he’s doomed. "Oh no… I wasn’t ready for this." He shakes his head dramatically, making the members laugh. "Yes, yes, I know [Y/N]. They’re amazing." The interviewer leans forward. "Are you a fan?" Gyuvin groans, rubbing his temples. "Listen, I respect them, okay? Their performances are insane, and their personality seems really cool." He exhales, shaking his head as if trying to stay calm. "But the problem is, every time I try to watch their interviews, I get secondhand embarrassment from myself because I’m smiling too much." The members explode with laughter, and Gunwook claps him on the back. "He’s obsessed." Gyuvin groans, slumping forward. "I just think they’re cool!" he insists, but nobody believes him.

Taerae

His reaction is immediate—a gasp, followed by wide eyes. "Oh! You know [Y/N] too?!" The interviewer laughs at his enthusiasm, and the members shake their heads fondly. "They’re so talented!" Taerae continues, completely ignoring the teasing around him. "I watch all their performances. Their voice is insane, and their stage presence? Unmatched." The interviewer smirks. "Sounds like someone is a big fan." Taerae nods so seriously that it makes everyone laugh. "Yes, I am! Their music is on my playlist. Hold on, let me show you—" He actually starts pulling out his phone before the members stop him. "Taerae, calm down," Zhang Hao chuckles, shaking his head. Taerae pouts but nods. "Okay, but you should all listen to them too."

Gunwook

Gunwook plays it cool at first, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, [Y/N] is great. I really admire their work." His tone is even, professional—until Matthew nudges him. "What?" Gunwook laughs, trying to act casual. "I’m just saying facts." The interviewer smiles. "You sound like you watch them a lot." Gunwook hesitates for half a second. "I mean…" He shifts slightly, trying not to look at the camera. "I might have watched all their performances multiple times." "All of them?" Yujin repeats, grinning. Gunwook sighs, finally giving up. "Fine. Yes. I like their performances, okay? Happy now?" The members all start teasing him, and Gunwook groans, rubbing his temples. "I walked right into this."

Yujin

The youngest gets shy immediately, his head lowering slightly as he lets out a small laugh. "Oh… [Y/N]?" His voice is quieter than usual, and the members exchange knowing glances. "I think they’re really cool." The interviewer leans in. "Just cool?" Yujin hesitates before nodding quickly. "Yeah. Cool," he repeats, but the way his ears turn pink gives him away. Gyuvin grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Yujin-ah, you’re blushing!" Yujin groans, covering his face with his hands. "Stop!"

[seoulzie]

a cat-astrophic interview

WHEREIN: beomgyu casually mentions he has a little one at home ..

彡 pairing: idol!beomgyu x gn!reader 彡 genre: lil crack & fluff! 彡 warnings: none!

SEUL SPEAKS! ✎ first fic! feedback nd reblogs are greatly appreciated! >< the cats name is miso kekeke

the fluorescent lights of the studio buzzed overhead, casting an artificial glow on beomgyu's face. he was on a talk show, the usual whirlwind of energy slightly dampened by the fatigue of a long day. the host, a bubbly woman with a contagious laugh, was wrapping up the interview.

"so, beomgyu-ssi," she chirped, leaning forward conspiratorially. "txt is known for being a group of close friends, practically family. but do you have a special someone waiting for you back home? maybe someone you take care of?"

the question caught beomgyu off guard. he hadn't prepared for anything beyond the usual questions about music and upcoming promotions. his mind flashed to the image of you sprawled on the couch that morning, hair a mess and eyes glued to a cartoon. a smile tugged at his lips.

"actually," he began, the playful glint returning to his eyes, "we do have a little one at home keeping things interesting."

the host gasped, a flurry of whispers rippling through the studio. staff wondering what the hell was going on. the host's eyes widened. "a little one? beomgyu, are you...?"

"being a dad?" beomgyu finished her sentence with a laugh, enjoying the delightful chaos he was unknowingly unleashing. "not quite! but it definitely feels like it sometimes."

he then proceeded to launch into an elaborate, albeit slightly exaggerated, tale about the trials and tribulations of co-parenting your "little one." he described epic battles over spilled milk (courtesy of miso’s playful swats at his morning cereal), late-night diaper changes (which, of course, involved wrestling a wriggling cat into a new catnip-filled toy), and the constant struggle to maintain a balance of order in your "messy" household.

with each embellished detail, the host, clearly flustered but trying to maintain her composure, peppered him with questions. beomgyu, ever the performer, reveled in the attention, completely oblivious to the potential social media firestorm he was igniting.

▹ time skip

beomgyu bounced into the living room, post-interview glow radiating from him. you were sprawled on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn precariously balanced on your lap, engrossed in a reality show marathon.

"did you see the interview?" beomgyu chirped, collapsing dramatically onto the other end of the couch.

"nope," you mumbled, eyes glued to the screen. "busy catching up on the drama between brenda and tatiana."

he chuckled, that adorable crinkling of his eyes you loved so much. "well, you're in for a surprise then."

finally tearing your gaze away from the tv, you raised an eyebrow. "hit me."

"they asked about life at home," beomgyu began, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "and i, being the honest guy i am, mentioned how much fun it is taking care of our little one."

your heart skipped a beat. "little one?" you echoed, a cold dread settling in your stomach.

"yeah!" beomgyu exclaimed, oblivious to your growing panic. "taking care of miso is, like, the best part of my day. she;s such a messy eater, though. catnip everywhere!"

relief flooded your system, momentarily drowning out the rising tide of amusement. "beomgyu," you said, trying to keep a straight face, "our cat is not our child."

beomgyu's smile faltered slightly. "cat?"

you burst out laughing, the tension dissolving. beomgyu, ever the endearingly dramatic soul, looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

"don't worry," you reassured him, wiping a tear from your eye. "just imagine the headlines tomorrow: 'txt's beomgyu secretly has a love child!' the internet will melt down."

beomgyu groaned, burying his face in a cushion. "this is why i shouldn't do interviews without my members."

the next few hours were a whirlwind of laughter, exasperation, and panicked scrolling through social media. the internet, as you predicted, had gone into meltdown mode. fan theories ranged from a secret marriage to a hidden child Beomgyu had somehow kept under wraps.

when things settled down, a new hashtag, "#BeomgyuIsADad," was trending worldwide. you and beomgyu, snuggled on the couch with a very confused-looking miso curled up between you, couldn't help but laugh.

as beomgyu sleepily mumbled apologies into your hair, you knew this was just another story to add to your collection of endearingly chaotic beomgyu memories.

© 2024 seoulzie

[pommpuriinn]

November 2024 DAZED Magazine

Featuring Txt’s Joohyung and Beomgyu

cover one with photos in the magazine

Beomgyu and Joohyung’s outfit

Joohyung’s hair (has baby bangs sharp tips like the bangs in the makeup pic)/color | makeup | nails

cover two with photos in the magazine

Beomgyu and Joohyung’s outfit

Joohyung’s hair/color | makeup | nails

What’s the issue about?

In this November issue we show sides of the couple people haven’t seen along with finally getting so information from the couple about their dynamic relationship like; how is it working side by side constantly? Does the relationship ever create tension within the group? What’s the couple’s future plans? This issue also covers each person’s own individual lives and their own path with music.

Thank you again for accepting the shoot. *interviewer smiles brightly at the couple*

B: oh, thank you for having us. *smiles backs*

It’s quite hard to get you two together like this and talk about your public relationship. So, my first question is why is that?

J: *stuck air between her teeth* honestly…I don’t know? *laughs* We honestly don’t really go talking about our relationship when we’re on variety shows. Like if the mc asks who’s dating yeah we say it, but other than that we are quite private about it.

B: It's like something we unconsciously do. We never talked about it behind hand *shakes his head ‘no’* like it’s not planned, plus we don’t really act much different with each other.

How is the dynamic in the relationship?

B: despite my goofy attitude on cameras I’m more serious behind closed doors and it carries on within the relationship. I’m more sentimental when it comes to our relationship. I like to have long, serious conversations and just hang out inside our places like very calm and chill. *shyly smiles and nods his head*

J: I don’t really recognize that I’m more…cuter? *looks at Beomgyu for confirmation* I heard from not just Beomgyu, but the members that I’m the complete opposite when I’m not on camera. I guess I tend to be warmer and clinger.

B: We balance each other out. She’s definitely the mood maker in the relationship, at least to me she is. *looks at Joohyung longingly*

Does working together get in the way of working with each other in the group?

J: never. It has never affected the group

B: Yeah, being in a relationship together didn’t really change anything at all. There was no awkwardness between anyone or tension. We act exactly the same as before.

You two have known each other for quite a long time, do you have any future plans with each other?

*the two look at each other before bursting into laughter causing the interviewer to smile at the young couple*

J: I’m sorry, it’s just we have been asked that question many times from my aunt and Beomgyu’s parents. Umm…I mean we don’t like thinking too much ahead. We’re still so young, but I would be lying if I say we didn’t fully think about our future sometimes.

B: Yeah I agree. *chuckles*

I heard that Joohyung-ssi has moved out of the dorms and actually lives alone and I wonder if Beomgyu-ssi has plans on moving in?

J: lives alone? *jokingly scoffs* they all come and sleep then eat like they own the place. *everyone laughs*

B: *clears throat* I do visit often, but I want to give Joohyung the space she never had for like 6 to 7 years. She has always been next to us since day one plus since before we would practiced for hours on end she would never leave to go back to her little room to sleep. Joohyung would sleep with us on the practice room floor, and once they chose us to be the final group line up we became even more attached to the hip.

J: I can finally have girl time with my cats without hearing them yell at their computers, tv, or at each other whenever they’re playing an intense game. Though I do miss when the younger ones would come to my room in the middle of night and ask if they could sleep with me, like little babies. *laughs* I could tell cats do miss them sometimes too because when they come to visit me the cats could hear them talking while coming through the door and they jump off their cat tree and sprint towards the door to greet them.

B: they would be like MEOW MEOW sometimes dragging their meows out then they start rubbing themselves on our feet, it’s really cute.

Joohyung-ssi I wanted to ask during the American leg of the group’s tour moas would ask about a new album and I too am curious if you’re working on anything new?

J: That’s quite a difficult question. *laughs bitterly* Mm…all I’ll say is that I had quite some time thinking over a few things about my own music away from the group, and it’s complicated right now with everything going on. But I don’t want moas to lose hope since everyday I see their kind messages waiting for my music and I just want to say I’m so thankful that moas are so understanding and patient when it comes to my music, and I won’t disappoint them when the time comes.

And Beomgyu-ssi we know your love for creating music and I wonder if you’re going to release any of your very own some day?

B: I do constantly love writing and making music and I’m happy that sometimes the company goes with my work, but it does happen rarely. I really hope in the future I could release some music I worked on fully for moas.

Lastly, what do you want to tell moas?

B: I want to say thank you to all the moas who support us being together and for sending lots of love and support for tomorrow x together. Please stay with us and show lots of love for our new album the star chapter: sanctuary

J: I’m not usually good at this *chuckles* moa thank you so much for staying by our side and always defending and fighting for us, I know it’s hard right now. We tomorrow x together will always repay you with lots of love back and constantly giving you amazing music that we put in lots of time and effort. Please listen to our new album with the title track ‘over the moon’

J & B: thank you~

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[armysantiny]

A Cup of Spiced Tea – JWY

P: Jung Wooyoung x male reader | G: one-shot, fluff, angst | Inc: columnist!Wooyoung, coffee shop owner!reader, born vampire!reader, eventual turned vampire!Wooyoung, turned vampire!Yeosang, mentioned Lee Know, mentioned Changbin, mentioned Yeonjun, mentioned Yoongi, mentioned Hoseok, set in suburban town, again sorta based on the town I live in, Wooyoung overthinks a lot, y/n has a fledgeling (oc character), Wooyoung suspecting his best friend is a vampire, fostering-esque dynamics, slow-blooming attraction between Wooyoung and y/n, Wooyoung is attacked, bite scenes, casual and graphic depictions of blood | Wc: 10.5k

W: assault from feral vampire, blood loss, graphic depictions of blood and vampire bite, falling unconscious from blood loss, leg injury (from Yeonjun), anymore please lmk! | R: 15

Summary: Wooyoung can’t do this anymore, can’t keep working otherwise he might just start losing his mind. Thankfully, his boss isn’t a cruel oligarch, so he’s off for a six-month long career break, tasked with nothing but one request; to re-find his inspiration and return to work afterwards with fresh eyes. Luckily enough, finding inspiration is easy; tea and coffee shop A Bite for Tea has all of that in heaps and bounds, the only hard part is trying to ignore all the oddities surrounding the place. And about the people around him, now that he isn’t buried neck deep in work anymore.

Min's notes: I know it's past Christmas, but! Here's my secret santa fic, @nebulousbrainsoup! I enjoyed every moment writing this fic, lux, and I really hope you enjoy reading this as well. I will admit, having you give me advice for this fic all the while knowing I was writing this for you was incredible lmao, I kept wondering if you could somehow tell. Again, hope you enjoy this, I can't wait to start planning out and writing part two to this. This is by far the longest thing I have ever written ^-^

Part 2 (coming soon)

“…and what I’m really trying to say is that I need a break. A long one, I think.” Wooyoung’s chest heaves as he gets the last word out, fists clenched tightly in his lap. So tight in fact that he’s digging his nails into his palms, pain blooming underneath that he’s hardly registering. Sitting here like this, in Editor Lee’s office awaiting a verdict like he’s on trial is beyond daunting, and it’s doing his racing heart no favours at all. His ears are ringing too. And despite the fact Wooyoung knows for certain that his boss is watching him, the name plaque on the desk looks leagues more interesting than the prospect of meeting the older man’s gaze.

At least if his request gets denied and discarded much like his last failed submission, Wooyoung won’t have to look into the eyes of MayFly Arts’ Chief Editor, Lee Minho.

God, he can hear it now already, can’t he? Editor Lee’s tongue clicking in disappointment before the bombshell is dropped on him and Wooyoung will be left to pick up the pieces of his career from the bottom of his broken heart. He’ll have to find a new job. Go through interview after interview. Promote himself like some cheap sellout artist. Rework his resume over and over again. All the hassle he hasn’t had to do in the last five years because there is no way he's walking out of this office with his job still intact—

“Jung Wooyoung-ssi?” Is what breaks Wooyoung out of his spiral, the unusually calm voice of Editor Lee gently taking hold of his attention. The older man has never looked at him so…warmly before, as far as he remembers, that it makes Wooyoung shrink back even further into his seat. He’s sure he looks like some sort of frightened prey animal, now that he thinks about it. “What do you think I’m going to say?”

A trick question. It has to be.

“Uhh…that I should get back to work?” Wooyoung all but squeaks out, somehow maintaining eye contact. Yet that also happens to be the wrong answer…? Seriously, how is he getting this all wrong? He’s the highest rated columnist in their department, figuring this out should be child’s play.

Editor Lee’s face falls, expression morphing into what the columnist can only describe as concern. Can’t be concern for himself, surely, his recent performance has been plummeting faster than those dumb cars-dropping-in-different-gravity videos Changbin shows him during their lunch breaks. Watching in abject horror as his boss gets up out of his chair and walks on over to sit in the chair beside him, Wooyoung has absolutely no frame of reference for his reaction to the next ten words that come out of the Chief Editor’s mouth.

“I’ll grant you your career break, Wooyoung. You deserve it.”

Oh. Well then.

Just like that. Just like that, the rope of tension and fear and potential unemployment are cut and Wooyoung’s shoulders all but slump in relief. He’d cry if he hadn’t already spent a good ten minutes in bathroom before this unleashing the flood gates of tears he was keeping at bay. Instead, he blinks, entirely astonished all the while he thinks he’s breaking out into a smile. Maybe. Hopefully. Honestly it’s been so long since he’s genuinely smiled the action itself feels odd.

“Thank you, sir, really, I appreciate this more than you could—”

“There is one thing I’m going to ask of you though,” Editor Lee begins, and frankly, at this point there’s nothing Wooyoung won’t do for this man after the generosity he’s been bestowed. “And it’s to return to work with fresh eyes and some real inspiration. We both know you’ve been less than happy with your work—as good as it is regardless—so you’re going to go home after work today, rest, and I’m not going to hear a word from you until after those six months are up. Sound good to you?”

“That sounds good. Really good.”

And it still sounds good as Wooyoung punches in the code to his apartment and steps inside, kicking his shoes to the side and dropping his things on the closest surface before making a beeline for his sofa and unceremoniously plopping down on it. It’s almost surreal, now that he’s sitting here at home, thinking about the weight that’s been lifted off of his chest. His first major time off work in god knows how long—five years, three months and ten days, not that anyone’s counting—and Wooyoung almost can’t believe it. Almost. There’s so much he wants to do with the time off he has, the only problem now is figuring out what to do first, staring into the void of his unlit TV screen with only his reflection staring back at him.

What to do…what to do…

He could call someone. The last time he managed to find time to hang out with Yeosang was a few weeks ago, and the other man should be finishing his shift right about now…

It’s the sound of coffee machines and distant background chatter that greets Wooyoung as soon as his lifelong friend answers the video call, Yeosang balancing his phone off of something or other as he unties his apron. In the few seconds of silence between the two of them, Wooyoung unabashedly allows his eyes to linger on his friend’s physique, a low whistle slipping past his lips. Not like he can be blamed, right? Sue him for having pretty best friends.

“Are you done ogling me now?” Yeosang deadpans from the other side of the phone, the other man’s device clearly in his hands as he watches Wooyoung nod like a satisfied cat. But it’s all clearly just fine when Yeosang continues, “My shift’s over, I’m almost done grabbing all of my stuff, how are you? Everything alright?”

“Oh, it’s more than alright over here; I have news~” Wooyoung starts, sitting up in preparation for his big reveal. As the columnist’s longest friend, Yeosang’s been his biggest ever supporter in operation Take a Goddamn Break. “I am happy to report that I have done it!”

“Done it..?”

Wooyoung nods. Again.

“Done…” a few seconds of confused Yeosang mutterings later, realisation strikes the other man like a freight train. “Your career break?! Your boss allowed you to take a break?”

Wooyoung almost wants to cry with relief, grinning through incredulous laughter as Yeosang almost appears to pack his things together at record speed. His heart feels warm, overjoyed that Yeosang is just as happy as he is. He chats with Yeosang for a little while longer, listening to other man recount his day as well, hanging onto every word with enthusiasm.

“Hey, how do you feel about a celebration?” Yeosang blurts out, his eyes looking at something past the screen that Wooyoung can’t quite make out. “A successful operation calls for one…and the guys at work really recommend this one takeout place I’m looking at right now.”

…Fuck it, why not?

Decked out in casual clothes, a spread of fried chicken and cans of beer between them, Wooyoung cuddles right up against Yeosang as he reaches for another chicken drumstick, nearly cackling at the drama on screen alongside his friend’s half-stumped half-frustrated commentary on the plot. In all honesty, Wooyoung can’t even remember the name of whatever it is that they’re watching, having far too much fun acting like the pair of them are naïve university students again staying up late before a nine am lecture and not the busy—and overworked, one would argue—working adults that they are. And it’s no crime, returning to the bliss of their younger years, if just for the night.

So, he indulges himself in another piece of fried chicken, graciously moving to the side so Yeosang can get up and grab an extra can from the fridge. A can of what, he doesn’t recall, and neither does he recall Yeosang ever looking so…buff before. Has he been working out? And how didn’t he notice when he was using the other man like a glorified body pillow?

“I’m going to start charging you, you know that?” There’s a cold press on Wooyoung’s forehead. Looking up from the Yeosang-shaped wall of muscle to the man himself with a sheepish smile, and with a much closer view of the barista than before, the smile morphs into something more curious. Searching.

“Mhm,” is the columnist’s non-committal response, squinting his eyes to get a closer look. Yeah, no, surely there’s something different. “Sang-ah, I should’ve asked, but when did all of this happen? Swear the last time I saw you, there was considerably less muscle. I mean— not that I’m complaining!”

Yeosang clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he goes to sit down, ever the bashful man about his own appearance. It’s almost too easy to make him flustered, and Wooyoung wants to take advantage of that fact, but he’s feeling merciful tonight. And the subject of his questioning has provided him with an offering. Another can of beer. Sweet.

“So~?”

“Alright, alright,” Yeosang concedes, “I started going to the gym with some of the hyungs from work, and they helped me stick to my old workout plan. It’s really helped…clearly.”

“What about the looking like you haven’t seen the sun in three months?” Wooyoung asks, leaning in close. In turn, Yeosang also leans back, deftly opening his can with the free hand not currently holding the columnist a normal distance away from his face.

“I’ve been streaming more now; it’s properly taken off and everything. So…I haven’t really been outside much lately. That a good enough answer, Mr Journalist?”

“I am a columnist thank you very much!” And yes, of course it is, Wooyoung doesn’t say.

“Eh, same thing.”

A weekend later and with the beginning of his career break well underway, there’s nothing much for Wooyoung to do at the impeccable time of five in the morning. And there’s no hope of getting back to sleep. His body clock is far too adjusted for that. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling won’t give him all the answers and neither will photosynthesising from the sunlight filtering through his blinds, so Wooyoung hauls himself up, swinging his legs over the edge and stretches like a well-rested cat. If he can’t already think of something to do with his time, he’ll just have to enjoy breakfast and take a walk around the town he’s called home for the last few years. A pretty solid plan, right?

Breakfast comes and goes—an iced americano and that pain aux raisin Yeosang brought last night—quickly enough that Wooyoung’s out of apartment building and in the fresh air to still see the odd office worker making their way to work. A glance at his phone reveals it’s seven thirty, a time that’d usually have him in the midst of his commute. But he’s not doing that. He doesn’t have to do that now.

It's pretty freeing, actually.

Tugging his coat closer around his body, Wooyoung sticks his hands in his pockets and continues walking along the pavement. It’s not long before he’s nearing the high street, and even then he’s already passed a few buildings and stores he’s never noticed before. Between work and the commute to his downtown office, Wooyoung’s less familiar with his own neighbourhood that he probably should be. There’s the odd convenience store he’s been inside a couple of times, sure, but other than that?

Damn, he’s practically a stranger here. Is he that much of workaholic?

Determined to familiarise himself with the neighbourhood, Wooyoung keeps up his tidy little routine for the next week or so. He visits the stores nearby, spends an evening or two in a café (okay, these are alright, but not exactly to his slightly particular tastes) and befriends a music store owner named Yeonjun. The latter of which took him a few hours; the fastest he’s made a friend, in fact.

“Is this new..?” Wooyoung mutters under his breath as he takes a left turn onto a quaint alley he’s only just noticed during his walks. It’s a tea and coffee shop, he thinks upon taking a few steps closer and huffs a laugh when he catches sight of the sign. A Bite for Tea. Of course it’s a pun. “Might as well take a look inside then.”

The inside of the place itself is…well, it’s warm, inviting and just the sort of place he’d have recommended in one of his articles a few months ago, if he had known of its existence. A cozy little find, or something along those lines. He takes a breath, and the immediate hit of coffee and a myriad of other kinds of tea in the air wrap around him like a gentle hug. And he’s smiling at nothing in particular. What the hell—in a good way, he thinks. The door’s already shut behind him, a door chime above his head sounding out that he’s only just noticed, and if he leaves now he’ll look only a little out of his mind.

No big deal.

“Uh, hi,” he says, approaching the counter and trying not to stare at the—damn, he’s blushing—man at the counter. “Can I get an iced americano with caramel, please?”

“Sure thing,” the barista grins, “do you want anything else with that? All the baked goods are made in-house.” And surely, Wooyoung’s eyes travel over the counter at the tidy display of baked goods and everything looks homemade. In that artisan-bakery-but-not-snobbish way.

A few minutes later and he’s sitting at one of the handful of tables, sipping on his coffee between bites of lemon drizzle cake and jotting down ideas in his Notes app. Between the citrus sweetness of the cake and the atmosphere in this coffee shop, Wooyoung’s never felt so inspired. There are ideas pouring out of him, filling up the notes page faster than he’s ever written before. He takes another bite of the cake, catches himself almost moaning at the taste—seriously, this is witchcraft, how is it this good?!—and makes a promise to visit the coffee shop more often. This place is inspiration turned physical. The fact this has been a few minutes away from his apartment for who knows how long, and he’s not known about it? Absolutely criminal.

Yes, it’s technically his fault for burying his head in work. So what? Still a crime.

He brings a journal with him now, each day that’s stepping foot inside A Bite for Tea and taking advantage of the surge of creativity it’s giving him. It’s not exactly any kind of work that he’s writing, just some short stories and prose, but he is writing and that’s what counts here. Without fail, every single baked treat he orders (by far his favourite has to be either the cinnamon sugar croissant loaf or those ‘everything’ bagels Wooyoung swears he’d sell his soul for) is practically perfect and has that fresh-out-of-the-oven warmth he adores. Every single time he’s stopped by these last few days, oddly enough.

Y/n doesn’t put too much faith in stereotypes, or overdone tropes, but he’s certainly been picking up on pattern lately. A new regular of his, if a week straight of visiting the coffee shop meets the criteria, likes sitting in the exact same spot. Under the window y/n affectionately nicknames the ‘sun-canopy’ with a drink, snack and journal in hand. Like a cat basking in the sun’s warmth. Or one of his coven’s members on their days off.

It's a thought that makes the coffee shop’s owner grin as he pulls a fresh batch of bagels out of the industrial-sized oven, setting it aside to cool and dusting his hands on the apron tied around his waist. It’s still pretty early, no later than nine am at most and thanks to a quick peek out front, there’s no one at any of the tables yet. Apart from Reddie, but the Abyssinian cat gets a pass.

Just enough time to dash upstairs and retrieve the thing he had delivered last night.

Right on time. Y/n perks up as Journal Writer™ enters the shop around half noon, congratulating himself on timing when he’d bake the latest batch of bagels. They’ve just finished cooling, definitely still warm to touch and the smell of them alone is making y/n’s mouth water. He’ll just have to settle with toasting one later and having it with that spiced preserve he’s been saving. Or perhaps with a cup of blood-infused tea. Journal Writer looks to the display case and for a moment, y/n’s worried he might have assumed wrong.

“Can I get an iced americano and an everything bagel, please?” Whatever worries he had a minute ago are gone, because the raven-haired man orders exactly what y/n was expecting. He fulfils the order, a pleased smile etched onto his face.

It’s rare for his vampiric intuition to fail him.

Y/n hears rather than sees the confused hmm while he’s giving the coffee shop counter a quick wipe down, peering up and unable to resist the amused huff that slips past his lips. The sight itself is pretty picture-worthy; Reddie curled up right where Journal Writer plans to sit down, leisurely batting the little reserved sign on the table. Storing the cloth and disinfectant under the counter where it belongs, y/n steps around it and closes the short distance before gathering the cat in his arms, admonishing her with a gentle tap on the forehead.

“Sorry about her,” y/n says, giving in and giving the cat a few scritches before sending her on her way. “Reddie’s not usually the type to sit on the tables. Let me give it a quick wipe down for you.”

Returning behind the counter to grab wipes and a couple tissues, y/n gives the table a once over, catching the confused look his new regular’s giving him out of the corner of his eye. Why’s he looking at him like that..?

He follow’s Journal Writer’s gaze, and right. The reserved sign.

“Ah right, I should have mentioned, but the sign’s actually there for you.”

“Huh? Really?” And y/n has to be forgiven for the way he can practically feel his pupils dilating at the sight in front of him. Journal Writer looking at him with wide eyes, raised brows and lips parted in surprise. With enough focus, he can hear a pulse, steady but strong, picking up the pace a little and—

No. He��s not even hungry. Y/n can hold off until sunset.

“Yeah,” y/n starts off, straightening up. “I know it might be a little… much, but I’ve noticed you’ve liked sitting at this table for the past week or so. Since this place doesn’t get too much attention, I figured putting the sign here wouldn’t be too much hassle.”

Y/n leaves that conversation with a few new pieces of information to himself. First, that Journal Writer’s affinity for the sun-canopy isn’t something he’s imagined up, and that his new regular is pretty cute. And human, though y/n really should have noticed that by now. Though with the modest customer base the coffee shop does have, it’s hard to deny that y/n assumes most people who walk through the doors aren’t human.

In between serving the handful of customers that show up over the next few hours, sustaining his cravings with the flask he keeps in the kitchen and looking after Reddie, y/n admires the way the sunset begins to creep over the sky. Or what of the sunset he can see from the front counter. It’s beautiful, painting soft pinks and orange overhead and dusting the side-street the coffee shop sits on in a cozy glow. With hardly anyone in the coffee shop, y/n excuses himself—to no one in particular—and makes a spiced mug of peppermint tea, letting the warmth of the mug seep into his hands as he watches the last remnants of daylight pass by.

Until a very familiar car parks by out front. The Coven is here.

“Councillor Jung,” Y/n says, discarding the half-empty mug on the counter and making his way round. “Is something the matter? You don’t make unannounced visits unless—”

“I need to, I know.” Councillor Jung Hoseok answers stoically, finishing y/n’s sentence. The older vampire merely looks back towards the car, where Councillor Min helps someone—a fledgling, no doubt—out of the grey SUV and into A Bite for Tea. The sight alone sends a chill down y/n’s spine the longer he takes in the young fledgling’s dishevelled appearance.

Who is this and what on earth happened?

“We knew you were open to emergency cases,” Councillor Jung continues while y/n remains in shock. “And we’ve only just had this young lady’s case come in, may we speak inside?”

“Yes, yes of course, come on upstairs. We can speak inside my apartment.” Y/n stammers out, clearing his throat and leading the two older men up to his home above the coffee shop. His mind races, the mere sight of the fledgling stirring up possibilities that the vampire rather not imagine.

He doesn’t even register Councillor Min’s comment on the human currently half-asleep at the table.

Wooyoung’s still thinking about it. It’s been a good few days since he’s been to the coffee shop—a full month since his career break started too, now that he thinks about it—and Wooyoung cannot stop himself from questioning what on earth it was that he heard that evening. Nor does it help the fact that he was half-asleep when it happened, dragging himself out of A Bite for Tea that night with a yawn and languid steps. It’s maddening, he realises while taking a spoonful of the omelette rice he made earlier, letting the TV play without paying much attention to it anymore.

Is something going to happen to his new favourite spot? Why did he hear two strange voices talking about fledglings and maintaining a regular feeding schedule?

“I’m losing my mind. I have to be.” Wooyoung announces to his empty apartment, shoving another spoonful of rice into his mouth and nearly choking on said rice when he’s jump scared by a loud sound effect from the TV show he’s been ignoring. He takes several deep breaths, trying to steer his mind in another direction entirely.

It doesn’t work.

He seriously can’t stop thinking about it.

He finishes the rest of his lunch in a huff, frustrated over his inability to figure out what exactly he heard that night and why he’s so fixated on it. With nothing else to distract himself from the incoming spiral, Wooyoung practically jumps off the sofa, putting his bowl away in a hurry and searching for his phone—which he swears he left in his room, god knows where.

Just as he thought, the blasted device is exactly where he left it, waiting for him on his desk and Wooyoung snatches it up as he sinks into his desk chair. The brief dopamine hit plummets like a stone when he unlocks the device and reads the latest message from Yeonjun, an understanding pout on his face.

Jjun: Woo mate I’m so so sorry :(( [14:32]

Jjun: Gonna have to cancel tonight, shelving unit dropped on my leg + stuck in A&E rn [14:33]

The mental picture alone makes Wooyoung grimace, pins and needles shooting down to his legs as his mind ever so kindly makes the mental image more and more realistic. Either way, that’s his plans out of the window, leaving the man with nothing concrete to do for the rest of the day other than veg out on his sofa and catch up on his drama watch-list. Or get back to playing Baldur’s Gate 3, his last save leaving him with much to look forward to. But while he can wallow in the misery of no longer having plans later, what he should do right now is let Yeonjun know that everything’s perfectly fine. Minus the possible broken leg, of course.

Woo: Dw! It’s all good ^-^ [14:46]

Woo: Be careful in future tho lmao, if you need me to pick you up after you’re done, lmk! [14:46]

Jjun: I will, and dw, my cousin’s here with me, but thanks :D [14:50]

Scrolling through his phone for a few more minutes while he mindlessly spins back-and-forth in his chair, Wooyoung loses himself to the joys of online window shopping, adding more and more things to his various wish lists. He’ll get round to buying some of them eventually, just maybe when he can afford to spend more time working from home. And building his dream desk setup. Though he does treat himself to a new keyboard, humming in satisfaction when one of his many wish lists gets ever so slightly smaller.

“…do you want me to bring takeout again?” Yeosang asks from the other end of the call, Wooyoung ever so grateful that his childhood friend is willing to indulge his boredom.

“Nope~ just bring yourself, I’ve got some cheesecake in the fridge from the dessert place we like.” He chuckles, making his way over to the fridge and taking another look at the majestic slices of cheesecake sitting inside. “You’re not streaming today, right? That’s tomorrow?”

“Mhm, I’m thinking of doing something cozy,” he hears Yeosang hum, “there’s a few indie games I want to play, take my mind off of work, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. On your way?”

“Like, five minutes away, yeah. See you then.”

Hearing the sound of his door code being entered in successfully, Wooyoung hurries up bringing the cheesecake to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table and covering it with the cloche. There’s no one else it could possibly be, so he relaxes against the sofa as Yeosang invites himself inside, placing his shoes off to the side and collapsing onto Wooyoung’s sofa with a huff.

Ah. It’s a no questions asked kind of mood.

Apart from the sound of Yeosang letting off steam and the soft echo of oncoming rain outside, Wooyoung’s apartment is rather quiet, a serene stillness that not even the dimmed noise of his TV could disturb. It’s rather nice, actually. He’s not thinking about what happened the other night—or what he thinks happened—and he gets to spend the rest of the day with company he’s all too fond of. And the more he listens to Yeosang, the more he’s adding in quiet assertions of his own, engrossing himself in the retelling of a Karen who just wouldn’t leave the café, Yeosang’s place of work, alone.

“…honestly, Hyerin noona was a good five seconds away from calling the cops,” Yeosang giggles, obviously coming to the end of his retelling, “I swear, the temperature dropped like, a whole ten degrees, she was so angry.”

“She’s your boss, right? Does she actually work front of house?” Wooyoung asks, then shuffles Yeosang’s head off of his lap to get up. “Hey— do you want hot chocolate? I bought some from this artisan place.”

“Yeah, that’s her. I mean, she’s not always at the front but she says it’s good for business or whatever that she spends at least some of her time out of her office.” Yeosang nods and then nods again when he processes the request tacked on to the end.

Well then, hot chocolate for two it is then.

Clicking his tongue along to the rhythm of nothing in particular, Wooyoung leans against his kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. The seconds feel like minutes, especially when he could be back in his living room enjoying the rest of Yeosang’s Karen story. In fact, he could do just that, since his kettle likes taking its sweet time the more water Wooyoung forces it to boil. So, he pushes himself off the counter, dramatically spinning around on his right foot so he can make his way back to his living room sofa.

Except his left foot catches on the leg of his laundry stand. Sending him careening towards the laminate flooring.

“Wooyoung!” Is the sound that greets him when he opens his eyes, and not the sound he was expecting: his body slamming against the floor. In a daze as Yeosang stands him the right way up and checks him over, Wooyoung can barely get a word out over the rushing sound of his panicked heartbeat in his ears nor the sound of the kettle—the little traitorous machine—finally done boiling. When he doesn’t respond beyond merely nodding when Yeosang asks if he’s okay, Wooyoung allows himself to be walked back to the sofa.

How did he not immediately faceplant his kitchen floor? How did Yeosang make it all the way over to him in that span of time?

“You’re okay, right?” Yeosang asks, having apparently finished prepping the hot chocolate and brought it to the coffee table. “Do you need me to call 112 or—”

“How did you do that?”

The dumbfounded look Wooyoung gets in return absolutely does not help.

“Yeosang I swear to God,” he stresses, reaching for his own mug of hot chocolate. “You know what I’m talking about. How the hell did you catch me in time?” Wooyoung’s question hangs in the air, tension building between them thick enough it could wrap around the living room in layers of uncomfortable warmth. All of a sudden, it feels like an interrogation, and the both of them take strangely long gulps of the beverage in their hands.

Well, shit.

If this has anything to do with his best friend looking strangely different lately, Wooyoung might just start spiralling even more than he already was these past few days. First he starts hearing these strange people walk inside the café he frequents, and now Yeosang is capable of crossing the entire expanse of his living room in the seconds it took for him to lose his balance and nearly fall over?

“I was already getting up when you started falling over.” Yeosang shrugs, unmuting the TV and paying attention to the show they were both ignoring a few minutes ago, sipping on his own hot chocolate.

He doesn’t know why, but Wooyoung can tell that that answer is bullshit. It has to be.

No less than five minutes after he finds himself alone in his apartment again, Wooyoung makes a beeline for his laptop. He needs to find an answer to this…thing that’s been plaguing him, otherwise he’s going to go stir-crazy. Entering his password and opening the browser as soon as he’s able to, Wooyoung’s fingers dart across the keyboard in record speed, entering his highly pressing question into the search bar.

My best friend doesn't look like himself and he's faster than usual. Is something wrong?

He’s met with a few odd-looking adverts, websites that lead to questionable services and finally, finally, the thing he’s looking for. Technically. It’s a reddit thread, with an alarmingly similar title, but it’s got what he needs, so Wooyoung clicks on it anyway.

“The fuck..?” The man mutters, reading further and further along the thread. Everything he’s reading matches up with all the weird nonsense he’s been going through, yet Wooyoung can’t wrap his head around it. It’s all so outlandish, something out of a fantasy novel or a young teen’s favourite fanfiction, but it just makes sense. “Turned— born— vampires?!”

If what he’s reading is true, and it’s slowly staring to seem so, then that means Yeosang is a…

No, he can’t be! Who would even do such a thing..?

Nausea settles in Wooyoung’s chest as he shuts the laptop, not bothering to turn it off properly. A chilling dread works its way through every part of his body, stealing the breath out of his lungs the more he dwells on everything he’s learnt. It keeps him trapped at his desk. Keeps his body frozen despite the way his subconscious yells at him to write something, to do something, anything about his discovery. The retro clock on his desk ticks away the seconds, only made louder by the stillness in the air until Wooyoung inhales sharply and almost knocks himself out from the sudden oxygen spike. Staying like this surely can’t be good for his health. He needs to move, work off the anxious ball of stress winding itself around his heart, he…

He needs to sleep.

“I need a drink.”

Three days. Three days of fretting and pacing around his apartment later and Wooyoung is without a doubt a mess. How in the world is he not supposed to be? The things he learned in that reddit thread still haunt him, ever in the back of his mind. Even as he finishes tying the laces on his shoes and steps out of his home, intent on getting outside. His journal’s been untouched lately too. Maybe checking in on Yeonjun or finding a new trinket to buy will distract him from the image he keeps flicking back to of Yeosang being attacked and turned into a vampire against his will. Or visiting that stationary store near the train station—his supply of washi tape has been slowly depleting.

Frankly, whatever it is, he needs to get out of the house and get some fresh air.

After a few hours outside, a good number of purchases in his bag and a surprisingly little number of stress-inducing thoughts, Wooyoung’s feeling much better. The breeze is gentle, rustling the leaves that remain now that the weather’s growing colder. He tugs his scarf just that little bit tighter around his neck while he continues to walk through town, a breathy chuckle slipping past his lips as a chill makes his way down his spine.

The chill leaves him as soon as he steps inside A Bite for Tea, door chime sounding out above as warmth wraps around him. It’s only been a few days, yet it’s like coming home after months away. Home to a cozy coffee shop with its handful of customers and swathes of inspiration.

“The usual?” Is what greets Wooyoung as he approaches the counter, coupled with a charming smile from the man opposite him. For a moment, he loses himself in the added familiarity of it, until he clears his throat and finally gets round to ordering.

“Yeah, but a regular americano this time, I think.”

“Sure thing. Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll bring it to your table.”

Y/n’s worried. No, he’s… concerned? Reasonably unnerved? With how Journal Writer’s practically staring a hole into the untouched mug of coffee and oddly still, it bugs him. It was only a few minutes ago that his human regular was looking at him with a pleasant smile, after all. Surely it’s none of his business. He’s here to serve his customers with good coffee—spiced or otherwise—and food, not to push any buttons by asking questions. Yet y/n has plenty of questions he wants answers to, mostly about Journal Writer and why he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

When noon begins to bleed into late afternoon and even the evening without any sort of sign that Journal Writer’s feeling better about whatever it is, y/n sighs, washing a mug while his eyes keep trailing over to his regular by the sun-canopy. It wouldn’t be fair to keep ignoring it now—given the fact he’s had Lily, the fledgeling from a few nights ago, pester him to go and do something about that guy for the last few hours now. He puts the mug away, dries his hands, and sighs again. Time to find out what’s up with Journal Writer.

Luckily enough, it doesn’t seem like there’s going to be any more people coming into the shop today, so y/n abandons his post behind the counter. He leaves the sign on the door, in case anyone does decide to show up, and walks over to the sun-canopy. Journal Writer still hasn’t looked up from the rather bare journal page, and y/n chuckles, knocking the table and light-heartedly raising a brow when his presence is acknowledged.

“Knock-knock,” he says, pulling out a chair to sit down. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Sure, that’s alright.” Journal Writer answers, briefly looking up from his journal to y/n and shrugging. Only to look to the coffee shop counter, back to y/n, and right back to the counter. “Aren’t you usually behind the counter..? Are you allowed to..?”

Y/n laughs. God, he’s cute.

“I’d certainly hope so; I run the place after all.” He explains, watching the realisation dawn on the man in front of him. But since he’s sitting here for more than just a bit of small talk, y/n gets right to it. “But I, uh, I actually wanted to come over here and ask if you were okay? You spent a few hours just sorta…staring into space.”

“…I did?” Y/n nods. Journal Writer’s mouth falls into a silent oh. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“You can talk to me about it, if you want. Customer confidentiality and all that jazz.”

“Isn’t that for doctors?” Journal Writer asks with an amused tilt of his head, which y/n shrugs to. Semantics, he muses. Which is all takes for Journal Writer to laugh, call him curious and begin unloading everything that’s been worrying about.

It’s…well, it’s a lot.

“…and frankly, it’s really not that I’m worried about there being vampires in town or anything! I’m sure the majority are absolutely great! Wonderful, even! But Yeosang’s my best friend, and I have no idea how on earth he even turned. Whether he was forced to turn into one, attacked or didn’t know what he was getting into. I don’t even know when he was turned! And we’ve been friends for a decade; we tell each other everything!” Journal Writer forces an exhale as he barrels through the final part of his rant, talking as fast as the frantic heartbeat that y/n’s picking up.

 Journal Writer’s desperate fretting the longer he goes on only helps to fester concern for the supposed turned vampire his regular’s talking about, y/n’s own temporary fledgling case fresh on his mind. Again, the vampire silently reminds himself, this is technically none of his business. It really isn’t. Yet the reminder doesn’t do anything about the growing desire to do something and help.

“…it’s probably not that big of a deal anyway, but I can’t stop myself from worrying, you know?” If only the—now that he’s really noticing—brunet knew how much that was true.

“Yeah, I get what you mean, it’s hard not to worry.” Y/n admits, then grimaces when he glances outside at how dark it is. “You’re free to tell me I’m overstepping, but will you be okay heading home tonight? It’s already pretty dark outside, and I do live just upstairs—"

Journal Writer giggles. If there was more blood in his system, y/n would be blushing right now.

“Thanks, but uh… I’ll be fine, my place isn’t too far away from here. I’m Wooyoung, by the way. Jung Wooyoung. And thank you, again, for listening to me talk your ear off. I appreciated it.”

“No problem, I’m glad I could help.” He says, and then promptly remembers that he hasn’t introduced himself yet. Or at all, since he’s vicariously known Wooyoung. “Oh— and I’m y/n. Y/n l/n.”

Somehow the rest of that conversation ends with numbers being exchanged. Mostly in the guise of y/n knowing when to expect the brunet in the shop. Wooyoung’s off soon after that, bowing his head as he leaves the coffee shop and leaving y/n with an unfamiliar feeling in his chest.

A feeling that makes its way past y/n’s lips as a surprised huff an hour or so later as he finishes closing the shop and the dots connect themselves. Journal Writer. What a coincidence.

It doesn’t escape y/n either that he kept quiet about his own vampirism.

Wooyoung’s really starting to regret not accepting the coffee shop owner’s offer to stay the night, teeth practically rattling as he walks home. Clutching onto his coat isn’t helping either, the fabric not as equipped to the chill of winter as the columnist thought. It’s overcoat weather, frankly. The kind of weather that calls for hand warmers and thick scarves that wrap around like a blanket. Two items of clothing that Wooyoung decidedly chose not to wear tonight, instead betting his luck on a cotton trench coat and a pair of gloves.

He swears under his breath the moment he feels the air change around him. Hairs off the back of his neck stand up, alerted by the sudden stillness, both by Wooyoung and whatever it is that has him on edge. He’s not alone, and everywhere except the spots under the streetlights is practically pitch black. It can’t be anything, not when Wooyoung’s come to know these streets like the back of his hand over the last thirty or so days. Surely it’s nothing.

Still, he picks up the pace, walking with a lot more purpose now.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m going to be fine…” He whispers, repeating the mantra like a prayer while keeping an ear out for footsteps of any kind. There aren’t any.

But he’s still being followed. He just knows it.

Come on, one more street to cross and we’ll be there, Wooyoung reminds himself, letting his subconscious do the talking now that he’s too scared to utter a sound. His heartbeat’s loud enough as is, thank you very much. Walking so fast he’s almost jogging, it’s sheer luck that he’s not tripping over himself or anything else, barely focused on where he’s landing his feet. There’s just one more stretch of road ahead of him to cross before he’s on his street, before he can begin to count himself lucky and—

“Oh, stop running already.” A voice snarls, and Wooyoung’s being thrown against a lamppost.

His head hits on impact, a throbbing pain blooming like roses as he’s dazed and stumbles for balance. Everything happens so fast, the hands forcing him still, fangs grazing spot where his neck meets his collarbone, biting down and his blood rushing, rushing out of him. His attacker gulps it down greedily, audible, stomach-turning sounds of elation echoing in his ear all while Wooyoung body grows colder and colder by the second. This is it; he belatedly realises, this is where he’s going to die.

His face grows wet with tears. It isn’t supposed to end like this.

A last burst of adrenaline gives him enough strength to shove his attacker off, sending them only a few feet away, yet the assailant—some feral-looking vampire—doesn’t seem to mind. They head off, sprinting off into the darkness and leaving Wooyoung to crumple to the ground as the agony truly starts to kick in. His mouth opens in a silent scream, clutching at the open wound with both hands as blood continues to pour out of it, coating his hands, his clothes and filling the air with its iron-clad scent.

“Call…call, I need to—” call someone, he gasps, freeing one hand to rifle for his phone and shaking as he unlocks it. A wave of dizziness washes over him as he opens the dial menu, shaking like an autumn leaf as he presses on the first number in his recently dialled list. It doesn’t really matter who it is anymore, all Wooyoung needs is someone to help him.

It rings once. Then again. Then again.

“…Wooyoung-ssi? Is everything alright?”

Wooyoung’s phone clatters to the ground, the man already unconscious.

Y/n’s face pinches into a frown when there’s no response, the concern mounting even more the longer hears nothing but wind from Wooyoung’s end of the call. He sits up on the sofa, shifting Reddie off of his lap and muttering an apology when she meows in protest. He tries again, calling the other man’s name again and cursing when there’s still nothing. Like that’d solve anything.

Does he need to find him? He needs to find Wooyoung.

“Lily!” He calls out, having hung up the call and shrugged on a coat and shoes. She stumbles out of her room, eyes curious and watching him with trepidation. “I need to go look for someone; keep an eye on the apartment for me, hm?”

“Sure, uh, no problem. Are there rogues out?” She asks, unaware that y/n’s now thinking of worst-case scenarios. Councillor Jung had said rogue activity was picking up with the drop in temperature, why hadn’t he thought about that earlier?

“Hopefully not,” he says anyway, a placating smile that probably looks a tad too forced. “Optimism never hurt anyone.”

Oh, hells below, it’s freezing. Optimism be damned, y/n blows warm air between his hands as he runs down the street, trying to locate what’s expecting—and frankly dreading—to be Wooyoung hidden away somewhere. Hopefully just frozen to the bone and not…he pushes the thought away, not even willing to entertain the idea. The man was very much human just a few hours ago, and y/n can only wish that Wooyoung stays that way when he finds him. All he remembers is that Wooyoung was heading home, but he doesn’t know where the hell that is and he’s been running around town for the last ten minutes, thanking whoever can hear him for vampiric speed.

Desperation clings to y/n like a parasite, cloying heavy in his mouth with each frigid breath. There’s no way he’s going back to his apartment tonight unsuccessful. He just needs to keep looking, because if his unfortunately pessimistic gut-feeling is correct, the state he’ll find Wooyoung in won’t be good.

There’s a slumped body in the distance.

“Wooyoung-ssi!” Y/n calls out, praying he’s correct. He all but sprints over, skidding to a stop and kneeling down to examine the body. It is him, and y/n nearly cries out in relief until his senses catch up with him and he smells it. Blood.

It coats Wooyoung’s clothes, creates a small stain on the ground and y/n’s gaze is laser-focused as he searches for the source, a pit settling in his stomach at the nasty and vicious bite wound. It’s grim to look at, but y/n can’t afford to either keep staring or allow himself to taste the other man’s blood from the way the scent clogs his nose and reaches the back of his throat. The man’s still alive and getting him somewhere safe is what matters, not his own hunger.

He needs to try and wake Wooyoung up.

Y/n takes a deep breath—not that he needs the oxygen—and shakes the man’s shoulder, calling on Wooyoung repeatedly in a frantic attempt to get him to wake up. Seconds feel like minutes, y/n trying whatever he can to get a response. It’s freezing cold, so the faster that Wooyoung is awake and able to accept the vampire’s help, the better. Preferably in the next minute, because the chill is starting to seep through the thick overcoat he’s wearing.

“…y/n?” He hears Wooyoung breath out hoarsely, and latches onto it as a sign on life. Honestly he’ll take anything right now.

“That’s right, it’s me. I need you to stay awake, okay?” He asks, lacing his tone with as much reassurance as he can, though Wooyoung stares at him through delirious eyes. “It’s not far to my apartment, we’ll head there.” He hoists Wooyoung up, muttering apologies while he manoeuvres around to grab some of the things that have clattered to the ground, namely the same phone that dialled him earlier that evening.

Y/n: Bringing a friend back, he’s not doing too well [21:23]

Y/n: Bring the first aid kit and some spare clothes from my wardrobe to the living room for me? [21:24]

Lils: Got it! [21:25]

Lils: Hope your friend’s okay tho [21:25]

Y/n pockets his own phone after that, giving the almost empty streets and a dazed Wooyoung his full attention. They’re almost there, making slow progress, but still making progress, nonetheless. Readjusting his hold, y/n makes it to the other side, but frowns when Wooyoung becomes even more of a dead weight. It doesn’t deter him, merely making y/n hold onto him tighter with each passing step.

And then y/n feels Wooyoung grow limp, slumping in his arms.

“Hey, Wooyoung— look at me, hey,” y/n pants, patting Wooyoung’s face a tad more firmly now, jaw clenched, and brows pinched in effort. “You gotta stay awake, c’mon, just a little bit longer. I know you can make it, just hold on for me.”

Come on, come on, be alive dammit. There’s ringing in y/n’s ears when he presses his fingers to Wooyoung’s neck, searching for a pulse. It’s hardly even there, a weak echo of the strong and very much alive heartbeat he heard a few hours ago. Trembling as he pulls his hands away, y/n stares at the face cradled in his hands, a lump in his throat at thought of what he has to do. He can’t, but he has to. He doesn’t want to sink his fangs into Wooyoung, to turn him against his will but y/n needs to.

He needs to. He doesn’t know how old Wooyoung is, but the man’s too young to die. Not yet.

So, he opens his mouth, sinks his fangs into Wooyoung’s neck and drinks what’s left.

Lils: You still outside? [21:40]

Y/n: Got caught up.  [21:49]

Y/n: I’ll be picking up extra blood tmrw morning. We’ll need it [21:51]

Waking up feels like being hit in the head with a sledgehammer. Everything’s much sharper, much clearer and Wooyoung isn’t sure he knows what the hell is going on. Between the strange ache in his gums and the pounding well, everywhere, headache, the columnist’s pretty sure today sucks. He blinks at the ceiling, staring at it a few minutes more trying to piece together just what about it looks so unfamiliar. Last he remembers, he was walking home after unloading his anxieties to the owner of A Bite for Tea, then got freaked out and—

Oh, right. This isn’t his ceiling.

“What the hell?!” He exclaims, shooting up into a vague sitting position and wincing when the motion worsens his headache. He’s not home, nowhere he recognises and in so much pain Wooyoung can hardly piece together his next thought. Squinting only relieves so much, so he abandons it all together, simply opting to look around and figure out where he is. He hears footsteps, snapping his head in the direction of the sound and freezing at the sight of a young woman staring right back at him, a hoodie drawn around her body.

“You finally up?” The woman says, observing him before turning to one of the doors. “Y/n, your friend’s awake!” She’s gone after that, entering a kitchen and leaving Wooyoung to stew in his confused shock.

Somehow the knowledge that he’s in y/n’s home puts Wooyoung’s mind at ease. At least he’s not in a complete stranger’s home, which isn’t the same as actually being at home, but it’s better than nothing. He’s pretty much left alone in the living room again, minus the oddly familiar cat wandering around, and there’s no time like the present to do a bit of snooping.

Adjusting and tightening the towel around his hips as he leaves the bathroom, y/n gives Reddie an appreciative scritch behind the ears before heading to his room in search of a change of clothes. The last eighteen hours have put him through the wringer, the sudden weight of new responsibilities bearing down on him. But it’s alright now; Wooyoung’s okay, the Council understand the situation and all he has to do now after getting dressed is have a conversation with the newly-turned vampire about it all.

Except the newly-turned vampire in question isn’t in the living room, but in his bedroom..?

“Wooyoung-ssi?” Y/n starts, the rest of his question hanging in the air as said air thickens with awkward tension. Wooyoung’s gawking at him, either mortified at being discovered or staring at his physique, and y/n can really only chuckle. It doesn’t help that the other vampire is wearing his clothes—after the bloodstained items were carefully stripped away to be dry-cleaned—making y/n traitorously think about how cute it looks.

“Is everything—”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A gust of wind travels past y/n as Wooyoung bolts out of his room, unwittingly using his new physical capabilities. Physical capabilities that y/n’s going to have to explain in detail. He sighs, closing his bedroom door and opens his wardrobe.

Today is going to be a long day.

Sat on the sofa after a lengthy explanation of Wooyoung’s new predicament—that y/n would rather never have to do ever again—y/n clears his throat, the deafening silence hanging over the space creating a heavy blanket of tension. In fact, he can feel the hole that his newest fledgling is staring into the side of his head, unable to maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds at a time lest he feel even more guilty. Not for saving Wooyoung’s life. He could never feel guilty for that. Instead, y/n counts the already visible changes; the pallor tone of the man’s skin, visible heightened awareness of their current surroundings, and how y/n’s clothes hang on Wooyoung’s body. The last change he notices makes the older vampire (thanks to Wooyoung revealing he’s twenty-five. God, so young. Too young.) clear his throat again, too aware that he quite likes the image beside him.

“Let me get this straight,” he hears Wooyoung say, finally breaking the silence. “I’m vampire now?”

“A turned vampire, yeah.”

“Because you turned me, after I called you for help? Since you’re a vampire as well?”

“That’s right.” Y/n answers, voice strained. “You were succumbing to the blood loss and… I don’t know, I couldn’t just leave you there to bleed out in the cold.”

The silence is there again, until Wooyoung hums in a way that y/n hopes is acceptance. It’d be hard to take back his actions now anyway. And if Wooyoung chooses to avoid the coffee shop from here on out, he’ll understand.

“Right, okay… makes sense. I think. What about that girl who lives here? Did you turn her as well?” Wooyoung asks, and this, y/n can answer confidently. It’s something he’s passionate about, after all.

“Her name’s Lily, and she’s only really here for the month or so, until some things in her life settle.” He explains and definitely doesn’t think about why Wooyoung almost looks relieved, watching and listening to him intently. “I work with the National Coven to provide shelter to struggling new fledgelings, give them somewhere to stay whilst they get their life back in order. Usually after being unknowingly turned or their Sire disappearing far too soon. I guess you could say it’s a bit like fostering young people, just… with vampires.”

Wooyoung’s looking at him with a raised brow as his explanation comes to an end, a question clearly on the younger vampire’s lips. Is something the matter, y/n’s own expression says, brows raised as well. The silent counter-question translates easily apparently, since Wooyoung voices what’s on his mind.

“What about that coffee shop? I swear I remember you saying that were the owner…”

“I am, and well, it’s downstairs, so I might head down later to—hey! What’s with that look? The coffee shop really is downstairs, I’m serious! Do you want me to show you?”

“Sure, why not? Lead the way.”

Taking another sip from his new flask and in his own clothes again a few days later, Wooyoung counts down the seconds to when he knows Yeosang finishes his afternoon shift. There’s a conversation he needs to have now. Tell his best friend a secret that he suspects Yeosang should have told him as well. He watches the last few people leave the café, and then promptly starts getting impatient. Just what’s taking him so long? Tapping his foot, he zeroes in on the sound of familiar humming and pushes himself off the wall, almost predatorial in the way he waits for the moment to strike.

…That’s a new instinct.

“You. Come with me.” Yeosang’s only a few steps out of the café before Wooyoung’s pulling him in the other direction, towards the park across the road. Sure, the other man’s complaining, but for all his strength, Wooyoung isn’t feeling Yeosang pulling back.

“Young-ah, the hell?! What’s going on?” Yeosang questions as he stumbles towards the park bench, catching himself in time to sit down. Wooyoung forces an exhale and sits beside him, readying himself to let the floodgates spill open. “You’re acting odd, is everything okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you became a vampire?” He spits out, then runs a hand through his hair. Y/n did mention that he’d be more impulsive, but damn, he sounds like a right arse. He just wants the truth. “And don’t… don’t act like I haven’t caught on, I spent a whole day freaking out about this, alright? You already lied once; you owe me~”

He watches Yeosang try to come up with an answer, opening and closing his mouth enough times that Wooyoung lovingly calls him a fish, and then finally seem to admit defeat.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry about me,” Yeosang admits, “and I asked for this, Woo. No one attacked me or anything, promise.”

Lucky bastard, Wooyoung finds himself thinking. Not that he isn’t grateful that Yeosang’s vampirism was a choice, he is, but he would have liked to have been given that same choice. Yeosang looks at him strangely, repeats the first word and Wooyoung blinks, confused. Huh?

Did he say that out loud?

“What do you mean, lucky?” Oh, he absolutely said it out loud. “Jung Wooyoung? What. Do. You. Mean.” Yeosang frowns, leaning in closer like he’s trying to summon the answer through the power of eye contact alone. So Wooyoung smiles, a new set of sharp fangs poking past his lips.

“…surprise?”

Y/n’s not expecting any surprises by late afternoon, especially after the last few nights he’s been having. So, he nearly jumps out of his skin when the doors to A Bite for Tea all but fly open, Wooyoung stumbling inside as he’s pulled inside by another person—a friend?—until he’s made to sit at one of the tables. It almost looks like his fledgeling’s been scolded; hands clasped on the table like a child after dropping their parent’s prized vase. The sight’s endearing, and Y/n almost laughs from where he’s standing behind the glass display case at the front, still plating the slices of banana bread that have finished cooling.

He straightens up as Wooyoung’s friend approaches the counter, looking around like a man on a mission until y/n gently clears his throat, the friend zeroing onto him with a precision that y/n recognises. A turned vampire, he has to be. Whether this is the same friend y/n remembers Wooyoung mentioned being so concerned about a while ago, he can’t tell.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Yes, uh— do you know who y/n is? I heard he owns this coffee shop, and I need to speak to him.” The friend asks, looking less agitated with each word. “If he’s not here, can you send a message?”

“No need to, you’re speaking to him.” Y/n replies, a brow raising as he watches Wooyoung’s friend’s expression shift. From surprise, to relief, to something he can only really describe as… stern. All in a matter of seconds, too. “What is it you need to say?”

Instead of an answer right there and then, y/n ends up following the man to the table and taking a seat, still utterly confused. Looking between the two sat opposite him, he catches Wooyoung muttering I tried to stop him I swear, still looking very much like a scolded child, and what this is all about becomes abundantly clear very quickly.

“…and it was already freezing outside, there was no way I was going to let him succumb to the blood loss as well. There really was no other choice, and I felt responsible. Wooyoung-ssi had called me, so I was determined to help.” Y/n says, rounding off his explanation of the events leading up to Wooyoung’s vampirism, a solemn sincerity hanging over his words. Recalling the night itself isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world, and the born vampire excuses himself to give Wooyoung and his friend—Yeosang, who is the friend y/n remembers hearing about—space to���discuss, process, or say whatever it is they need to say, judging by the silent verbal conversation he sees the two having.

“I’ll be back at the counter if you need anything.” And he tucks his chair in, heading to the front counter to get back to his role as A Bite for Tea’s owner.

Now, Wooyoung doesn’t need anything from his new Sire yet, or whatever Yeosang called y/n, but Wooyoung sticks around long after his friend leaves the coffee shop, instead keeping himself busy with his phone and the cat. In between looking through social media, watching the odd cooking video and stroking the cat’s fur as she passes by, the newly turned vampire ends up staying in the shop until closing, a new brand of curiosity springing forth within his subconscious.

The kind of curiosity that y/n can help him with.

“Hey, y/n-ssi,” he says, helping the older vampire stack up chairs while said vampire sweeps the floor. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do Sires and the vampires they turn have any kind of, I don’t know, relationship? Like a mentor and mentee kinda thing, or…?” Wooyoung doesn’t know what other kind of relationship he’s picturing when the question comes out of his mouth, or what he wants to picture either. So, he pauses his impromptu job of stacking chairs to turn to y/n, watching the cogs turn in the other man’s eyes.

“Well, as far as I know, it tends to just be different for everyone.” Y/n answers. It’s a satisfying enough answer for now, though knowing himself, Wooyoung’s fully aware he’ll be digging through that response for a clearer answer, something more defined he can fall back onto. “I was meaning to ask the last time you were here, but do you want me to go over some basic vampiric fundamentals someday? There are some things like the Coven, where to get blood and etcetera that’ll make life a lot easier for you.”

Huh. He hadn’t thought about that stuff yet.

“Why not?” Wooyoung replies, blasting through his vampiric speed to get the last of the chairs stacked up. “I’m pretty much always free, is there a time that suits you?”

It’s a back and forth, practically a negotiation when Wooyoung realises just how busy y/n actually is with these other responsibilities the older man apparently has. But eventually the date of his vampire classes is set for the next upcoming weekend, and Wooyoung gathers his things in order to head home.

“See you at the weekend!” He calls out as he leaves, y/n off somewhere in the coffee shop’s kitchen.

“It’s a date!” Y/n laughs, calling out in return.

…hopefully it will be.

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[some1s-sista]

Manic Monday

I know, I know it’s Tuesday. But my Monday was such a rollercoaster of emotions, I’m still not sure I’m recovered.

I got good news in that a call from the local SSA office informing me that the boy is on track for approval for SSI came in! They want me to come in today and go thru the interview to become his authorized payee. So there’s no formal approval yet, but they want the local office to get everything in place. So my stomach on legs will have his own $ to buy his groceries, clothes, etc. I can’t wait to teach him how to shop for himself! A little more independence! 🥳🥳🥳

Sixx was notified of Senior Formal Photo day Nov 1st and we set up her appointment. My baby is having her Sr Portraits taken! What???? 🥹🥹🥹

And then last night. I’ve mentioned my friend probably a few times previously, who had uterine cancer back in 2020-2021. When I was diagnosed in 2022, she was there cheerleading, answering questions, letting me know what to expect. As I was finishing up my treatments in 2023, she found out hers had recurred. Beat it again, and it recurred again this year. She was hospitalized again at the end of last week, life flighted to VA. Her husband let me know last night, she’s entering hospice. They’ve run out of options for her. And will concentrate on making whatever time she has left, the best it can be. I am torn up. I just always thought she would beat it again. So if you have any spare good juju you can throw out into the universe for her, I’d appreciate it. 😪😪😪

Now my teary eyes and me are going to take a walk and then head off to the SSA appointment.

Hug your loved ones.

[moondaepuppy]

[Coming soon: Interview with TeSTAR! Idols answer their fan's questions!]

Click below to see a preview:

Interviewer: Oh, here's an interesting fan question! 'If you were to find a Death Note, what would you do?'

Keunse: ooh?? Death note?!

Eugene: That's the first anime I ever watched! My friend recommended it to me!

Chungwoo: hmm, is that where he has a book that can kill people?

Moondae: Yes, by writing down their names.

Keun: moondaemoondae, you like death note?

Moondae: Yes.

Eugene: Me too!!

Ahyeon: they... K- kill people by writing their names down in... In a book?

Eugene: *gives confusing summary of plot in a mix of Korean and English*

Ahyeon: oh... Erm... B-but how could killing someone be a good thing...?

Raebin: Clearly no one individual should have that amount of power over life and death, so if I found a death note I would give it to the authorities, or would try to destroy it.

Eugene: haha! That's boring! I'd kill everyone!

Raebin: *opens mouth, about to rant until keunse, sat behind him, leans forward and cover his mouth*

Chungwoo: I think I agree with Raebin, I'd try destroying it. It's better to focus on the good we can do.

Bae Sejin: cough! Erm! Yes!... Murder is wrong of course... *Gazes into the distance darkly* *muttering* But some people might deserve it...

Eugene: Exactly hyung!!

Bae: *startled*

Interviewer: Haha. Ah, moondae-ssi has been very quiet?

Moondae (who has been deep in thought) : Yes, I was planning my hit list.

Interviewer: laughs, thinking he's joking.

Keunse: laughs, knows he's not.

Interviewer: but if you were to keep it, who would make the best Light Yagami?

Park moondae: *deciding to mess with him* Lee Sejin.

Keun: ayy, moondae, you think I'd go on a murder spree?!

Moondae: If anything, he'd be better than Light Yagami.

Chungwoo: *smiling* hmm, Sejin is very smart.

Raebin: He's the best at tactical board games, and is skilled in bluffing and lying in order to win, so would likely be able to fool the police.

Ahyeon: *nodding*

Keuns: !!??!

Raebin: He is also level-headed, so wouldn't fall prey to the detective's plan in the beginning.

Eugene: Totally. (In English) Like, hyung, you would be a great psychopath!

Ahyeon: (In Korean) ps- psychopath?

Keunse: haha??!? Guys??!

Moondae: *grinning* Though he is also a very caring person. And would be too busy with his career to start a new world.

[niki-phoria]

Hili I love your work <3 !!! could I please request a reaction on how each Enhypen member would defend/protect from the public after freshly revealing their relationship with y/n? pronouns he/him & thank you so much

⋆｡°✩ enha reaction - protecting their bf after their relationship is exposed

includes: established relationship, mix of angst and fluff, really struggled with some of these ngl, big shoutout to @/heeseunq for making the best enha gifs on this website

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i'm so sorry fics have been taking longer to make lately but i'm trying to catch up on them. i hope you like it :))

warnings: homophobia, mentions of hate comments

male reader (he/him pronouns)

⋆｡°✩ heeseung

(word count 209)

“heeseung-ssi,” the interviewer begins. she glances down at her cue card momentarily before looking back up at him. he perks up at the mention of his name, quickly setting his water bottle aside and leaning in closer to the microphone propped up in front of him. “you recently revealed your relationship with y/n. how does it feel to finally be out?”

“it’s… good,” he nervously chuckles. jay reaches over to encouragingly pat his shoulder as a silent way to encourage him to continue. “it feels good. y/n is the love of my life. i’m glad i’m finally able to talk about him.”

she smiles at him from behind her microphone before she continues. “there’s been a lot of love and support from the community, but there’s also been some negativity. how have you two been handling it?”

“there have been some rough times, obviously,” heeseung lets out a soft sigh. “but we have each other. all of the support has also helped, but… i don’t think there’s anything that would change the way i feel about him.” 

you smile to yourself from behind the cameras, adjusting your mask slightly to hide how flustered you are. heeseung winks at you from across the room as the interview continues.

⋆｡°✩ jay

(word count 200)

“y/n,” jay sighs as he reaches over to take your phone out of your hands before exiting out of the tab. he sets your phone aside before turning his attention back to you. “please stop reading the comments.”

“i’m sorry,” you whisper. “it’s just… they’re hard to avoid.”

jay lets out another soft sigh as he sets his chopsticks aside. he pushes his chair back to stand up before sitting beside you on the couch. he reaches a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face before resting a hand against your cheek. “i know it’s hard, but… forget what they think, okay?” he whispers. his hands fall to your waist as he gently coaxes you over to sit in his lap. your knees rest on either side of his hips as he traces small shapes against your hips. your arms rest comfortably around his shoulders as jay leans in to pepper small kisses all over your face. 

you laugh at the ticklish feeling, squirming away from him before jay leans in to pull you into a final kiss. “i love you,” he whispers. “nothing will ever change that.”

“i love you too, jay.”

⋆｡°✩ jake

(word count 218)

jake props his mangers’ phone up before he starts a new live, watching as the number of viewers slowly climbs up. his eyes scan through the comments, watching the various reactions to the sudden stream. 

“okay,” he finally murmurs to himself. “i wanted to come online to clarify a few things and answer your questions. i’ll try my best to explain everything.”

“are the dating rumors true?” jake softly sighs at the way the same question immediately fills the comment section on the side of the screen. his teeth catch his bottom lip momentarily - a nervous habit - before he looks back up at the camera. 

“yes. i have a boyfriend.” he pauses, fiddling with his fingers as he continues. “y/n is the light of my life. he means everything to me. i know that will be difficult for some of you to accept, but… there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for him. he makes me a better person. i’m in love with him.”

a flurry of responses light up the side of the screen. words continuously scroll by at a far too fast pace. jake startles slightly when his own phone dings from beside him. he anxiously opens the newest text message before softly smiling to himself at the sight.

y/n <3

i love you too, ikeu

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon

(word count 205)

you let your head fall against sunghoon’s shoulder as you anxiously await his manager’s return. the large conference room feels suffocating around you as you shift uncomfortably in the office chair. “hey,” he whispers. you shift just enough to look up at him, nervously biting your lip. “it’ll be okay.”

“you don’t know that.” your voice cracks as the words leave your lips. tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you let out a shaky exhale as your gaze falls back down to your feet. 

“y/n,” sunghoon sighs. he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb against the skin. your eyes flutter closed at his gentle touch. you let yourself relish in the feeling for a few seconds as he slowly coaxes you closer before leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. “we’re gonna be okay. i’ll protect you.”

you tug the sleeves of his hoodie down further over your hands as you softly smile at him. “i know you will. thank you.”

“nothing bad will ever happen to you,” sunghoon whispers; his lips quirk into a small smile of his own. he brings your intertwined hands up to press a kiss against your knuckles. “i promise.”

⋆｡°✩ sunoo

(word count 203)

you cock your head as sunoo continues to pace around your bedroom with his phone pressed against his ear. he lets out a long sigh as he hangs up from the call before tossing his phone aside on his bedside table. he sits down on the edge of your shared bed, holding his head in his hands. 

you furrow your eyebrows, moving over to kneel down in front of him. you rest a hand against his knee as you look up at him. “sun? what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he finally sighs, shaking his head. “it’s just… my manager wants to talk to me tomorrow morning. he sounds upset.”

“sunoo,” you whisper. you bring a hand up to cup his cheek, slowly tilting his face up so he’s looking at you. you run your thumb against his soft skin in an attempt to comfort him before you lean forwards to press a kiss against his forehead. “i love you. you know that. it’s all gonna be okay.”

he takes a deep breath before nodding. sunoo reaches up to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers together before pulling away just enough to press a kiss against your knuckles. “come on,” he whispers. “let’s go to bed.”

⋆｡°✩ jungwon

(word count 216)

“y/n?” jungwon whispers as he carefully enters your bedroom. a soft sigh escapes him as he quietly closes the door behind himself. his lips quirk downwards slightly in a frown as he walks over to sit down beside you. 

you blink stray tears out of your eyes. jungwon takes your phone out of your hand before turning it off and setting it down on your bedside table. “jagi,” he whispers. he reaches over to brush a stray strand of hair out of your eyes before letting his hand fall to cup your face. “i love you. nothing will ever change that.”

“i know,” you sniffle. jungwon slides underneath the covers to lay beside you; his hand rests underneath your shirt on the bare skin of your waist. you reach up to take his hand into yours, momentarily pressing a kiss against his knuckles before nuzzling even closer to him. “i love you too.”

jungwon softly sighs, subtly pulling you even closer into his chest. he presses a kiss against your forehead before tucking his chin on top of your head. “please stop reading the comments. i’ll ask hybe to make a statement. we’ll never see the negativity again.”

you bury your face into the crook of his neck before you nod slightly. “okay. thank you.”

⋆｡°✩ niki

(word count 204)

you quietly knock on niki’s bedroom door, leaning against the wall beside the door. “niki?” 

you can hear a soft scuffle from inside the room before the door opens with a small click. you push the door the rest of the way open before quickly closing it behind you. niki is quick to throw his arms around your shoulders, leaning his body weight against you. you wrap your arms around his waist, gently beginning to rub a soothing hand against his back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin. “i’m so sorry. this is my fault.”

“no it’s not.” you pull back just enough to rest a hand against his face. you gently tilt his face up so he’s looking into your eyes. “none of this is your fault.”

niki swallows slightly before he nods. despite your words, you can see fresh tears stinging against his eyes. “hey,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. you brush your thumb against his skin to wipe away the stray tear that rolls down his face. “i love you, okay? we’ll get through this together.”

niki nods. he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his head against your chest. “i love you too.”