#ateez enemies to lovers

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗three

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ3.4k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three ⁺

Suddenly you say, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“No, I hate mint chocolate,” he replies solemnly and then grins looking at your deadpan face.

“You are very annoying, you know that?” you grit your teeth and he laughs loudly at your sentence. His laughter had a giggling tone like a child’s and sounded so real, unlike the ones he usually gives in an interview. His smile is way too endearing and you find yourself laughing with him.

He steals a glance at your laughing face before blurting out, “You have a cute laugh underneath all that, don’t you?” And the car goes silent, shallow breaths filling up the noise moments ago. Hongjoong quietly focuses on the road trying not to think about your lingering gaze on his side profile while your mind gets fogged.

Though the sentence is supposed to be teasing you can’t help but note that he called your laugh cute. You are always smiling but there are very few people who have actually listened to you laughing. And suddenly Hongjoong has made his place in that small list that you keep so maintained and wrecked it up. And you hate to love it so much.

Hongjoong clears his throat lightly making you come back from your imagination as he asks, “What did you want to say?”

You quickly rack your brain and then remember the question and suddenly feel shy. What place are you two in for you to ask this anyway? But you can ask as a colleague so you went ahead, “What schedule do you have after this project is finished?”

Your voice is hesitant as your shy gaze lingers on him.

He is shocked at your question and all kinds of possibilities run through his head. Flustered even. Should he ask why? No, that would ruin his dignity and image. He quickly replies, “Just some stuff here and there and I might get an invite from Balman.”

“Balman? Wow, that- that’s great,” you reply smiling before looking out the window. You both have been driving for half an hour now and a ten-minute drive to your apartment is left.

Hongjoong is gripping the steering wheel tightly trying his best to focus on the road ahead. He was thinking about all the tiny details he had picked up over your month of working beside each other every day.

How you stare blankly when you don’t understand before he has to explain again and you nod. Not your fault though, fashion designing is a hard subject. How you chew with your front teeth like a kid, and he thinks it’s stupid even though he finds it way too cute.

No, it’s definitely stupid, he scolds his mind. And he isn’t definitely falling for such an organised person. He always needs and wants spontaneity. Someone like you definitely isn’t in his mind all the time

He hears you say to take a right and he obeys, driving inside the apartment after you show your ID at the entrance. He turns his car around to leave when you say, “Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, is this an invitation?” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as you roll your eyes, slowly opening your seatbelt and waiting for an answer patiently. Okay, not patiently but eagerly.

“Where’s the guest parking?” he asks answering your doubts as you show him around.

Pressing the padlock for your apartment you push the door open and enter along with Hongjoong. Your apartment is nice and clean and you are relieved no stray bra is lying around or else you will have not lived to see another day due to Hongjoong’s teasing.

You take off your coat and look at Hongjoong who is still looking around. His eyes look so round, with his pretty eyelashes that you find yourself staring at his face.

“Your apartment is so cosy,” he whispers and you blink twice to regenerate his sentence in your mind.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” you giggle and he shakes his head looking at you.

“It’s just I thought you would be in a more posh place,” he explains as you find yourself nodding at him. You become quiet looking around your own apartment and realise why he says it. The walls were beautifully decorated with some Polaroid lights, the desks had pictures and some books.

“I don’t like large places, makes me feel all alone,” you say and he looks around again.

“This one is large too,” he reasons.

“Yes, but not like those never-ending apartments with little furniture, like the day ends in just walking from one room to another,” you groan and he giggles the same laugh that makes you feel giddy all over again.

“Just sit down and I will order us something,” you propose and he nods sitting down on the couch and you scroll through the apps to order something.

The food and the drinks were quickly down as you laughed along with Hongjoong at one of the ridiculous stories of his teen crush and later bid him goodbye as he drove away to his own apartment.

You close the balcony door softly and find yourself grinning and biting your lips thinking of Hongjoong. Even though he is “all about spontaneity” his work ethic and after today his everything is making you way too happy.

And now you feel scared because you are falling for him and he isn’t there to catch you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The week passes over quickly, and you and Hongjoong are both busy preparing for the upcoming ramp walk and event to which your company is invited. You both had your own things to do and barely saw each other. You had to get some files ready and the documents, sign them up and seal some deals while Hongjoong was going over the designs, perfecting them, and a session with the models every day.

You huff in relief as you board the private plane of your company with everyone and slump down on your seat. Your seat was a bit secluded having a partition. You feel Seonghwa’s presence beside you as he sits down.

You hear some shuffling beside you and on the adjacent isle, you see Hongjoong and Mingi settle down. Mingi passes you a small smile which you greet him back with before turning around and closing your eyes.

Halfway through the journey, you find being pushed by someone as you rub your eyes and the familiar scent hits your nose. Hongjoong. You scramble up in your seat as he looks at you saying, “Had a good sleep? Darling.”

“You!” You exclaimed, but your tone wasn’t accusatory like it would have been two weeks ago. You playfully nudge him before your vision stabilizes and you look around and see Seonghwa sitting with Mingi playing what you probably thought was, “League of Legends.”

“Wow, he dared ditch me to play a damn game,” you murmur to yourself.

“Your head is so heavy, it is hurting my shoulder now,” Hongjoong says and you look at him narrowing your eyes.

“Why didn’t you just throw my head off then,” you argue back but before he can answer food gets served and he immediately digs in. You didn’t pay too much attention to him ignoring your question and instead dug in your own food, satisfied with the comeback, however lame it was.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ���ㅤㅤ————

“I will sue this hotel,” you fume as you quietly scream at Seonghwa who is standing there and trying to calm you down.

Mingi is also standing feeling sorry for you and Hongjoong is doing something on his phone but still keeping you company.

“It’s not that bad, you know, only our rooms are not done, and they promised it will be done by the evening, Mingi and Hongjoong even have their rooms,” Seonghwa tries to make you understand.

Keyword- try.

“I don’t care,” you grit your teeth and then continue, “This is a reputed hotel, how can they be so careless?”

“Well not really their fault, how would they know that the couple would have sex in a random room and then check out,” Seonghwa says and you huff. There was no option and you felt like crying. After fifteen hours of journey, all you wanted to do was take some rest in the nice hotel bed and rest. But that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Unless.

Hongjoong speaks up, “Well our very patient CEO can stay in my room till then while Seonghwa can go in with Mingi,” and looks at you.

You are so tired you didn’t even try to refute or tease him even when you heard him saying, “No we are doing whatever I am saying” to Seonghwa’s “We can do the opposite too.”

You drag your feet towards Hongjoong’s room as he opens the door with the card and you push past him, lying down on his bed. You don’t even feel like opening your shoes as you enjoy the soft bedsheets under your body.

“This is my room and you don’t even ask,” Hongjoong sighs smiling slightly at your slumped figure over his bed, before he takes off his own shoes.

“Shut up,” you reply, your voice muffling inside the pillows as he sees your cheeks getting squished while you speak. The bellman comes right after to leave his and your luggage inside and he closes the door softly so as to not disturb you.

You are aware you were lying diagonally hogging up the bed space so you try to move a bit to make space but stop as you feel a tug on your leg. You feel Hongjoong’s hands untie your Converse highs and take them off. You keep quiet not knowing what to do and after a few minutes you feel him take off your socks too.

Your heart thumps inside your body as you feel yourself breathing erratically at his domestic behaviour and you are glad that he cannot see your face which is probably adorning a hundred shades of red.

“Hello kitty socks under Nike’s Converse, really?” he comments cheekily trying to hide the adoration in his voice which you did not catch anyway because you are dense as hell.

“You just have to say something, don’t you?” you cross your arms sitting up and looking at him.

“What can I say? I love getting you all riled up,” he smirks walking towards the bed and standing in front of you.

You look up at his hovering figure and your breath hitches as you take in his parted hair which was styled with gel, his transparent glasses on his face and his brown eyes. Oh, those pretty eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Shut up,” you reply, your voice coming out as a whisper and he dips his head over you more making you inhale sharply.

“Make me, darling,” he whispers back and you have to clutch the bedsheets to stop yourself from grabbing his t-shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

Suddenly you both jump at your phone ringing as you reach for it and he clears his throat moving away from you. “Hello,” you say but your voice comes out hoarse and you can feel his effect on you already. Voice unstable, hands shaky, mind foggy, heart racing- he makes you go crazy.

You are screwed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

“I’m screwed,” you tell Seonghwa as you share a drink with him in your room the next day. It was eleven at night and after a whole day of attending the event and giving everyone forced smiles and watching the several runways you and Seonghwa were in your room in your pyjamas discussing your own lives.

“Why? He isn’t bad as a person,” Seonghwa said taking in a sip before checking his phone again.

“Hwa, calm down, your wife and daughter are both sleeping, it’s seven in the morning there,” you console him as you see his face. You knew he was missing them badly and you felt sad for him.

“Yeah, true,” he sighed giving one last look at his phone and then looking at you smiling softly. You smile back, take a sip of your wine and look outside through the glass wall towards the blinking city lights.

“About Hongjoong,” Seonghwa hesitates and you encourage him to continue humming slightly and he says, “He is not a bad person as I said and he probably likes you back, I mean he flirts with you too.”

“He flirts with everybody, and I have fallen for it,” you groan leaning against the glass as Seonghwa raises his eyebrows at you.

“Did you really fall because of his flirty behaviour?” Seonghwa asks you rhetorically and you realise that sighing to yourself. He gets up and putting the wine glass down he says, “You need to think y/n, properly.”

Seonghwa leans back on his chair lightly and your eyes drop to the floor, your deep breaths echoing the room. Seonghwa looks up once and says, “You know on a completely different note, Mingi told me Hongjoong never flirts with his clients the amount he does to you. He is extremely professional and only does business.”

He abruptly gets up and leaves the room before you can muster a reply and you sigh locking the door and sitting down on the quiet bed. Looking around you turn off the lights and look outside at the star-studded view of Paris and feel lonely. And confused. And shaky.

It is the city of love.

And here you are wondering if the person you like likes you back or not.

You know Seonghwa’s question had an answer from you- ‘no’. No, you did not fall for his flirting skills.

You fell for his behaviour, his bright smile, his playfulness, his laugh, his sparkling eyes, his honest behaviour, and his work ethic. Honestly, you couldn’t help but admire how much wonderful he is in his field. He proved you right, spontaneity is the right way for fashion, for designing, for creativity.

You fell for his teasing comments, and his patient behaviour as he made you understand what he was doing and how designing works when you visited his room in the after-hours of your office. His laugh when you asked a stupid question was still your favourite as you remember him looking at your curious state with endearing eyes before he explained.

And you? You who always wanted to like a person who is organised, has interests like you, not very random have fallen for the most spontaneous and random person in the world. You knew he was just being friendly and flirting was in his behaviour, yet you fell and now you are alone in this.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The shows are over and you are set to return the next day. Throughout the whole week, you had been with Hongjoong and made no progress with dealing with your stupid crush on him. Except it has grown bigger. Now, Hongjoong was on your mind every damn time of the day and you hated it. Mostly because you can’t be with him.

You pack up your suitcase and get up and hear your doorbell ring. “Coming,” you call out and expecting your food you open the door. You are surprised as you see Hongjoong standing there looking handsome as ever and you suddenly feel all self-conscious.

Like a schoolgirl in front of your crush.

You have your bed hair from your nap, the loose pyjamas you love wearing so much that the prints are basically fading and the prints are of Ninja Hatari. “H-hey,” you stutter out quickly running your hand over your front hair to get the loose strands praying and hoping the twin-braids are somewhat decent.

But all through your embarrassment, Hongjoong’s heart swelled at your sight. You look so fluffy that he just wants to hold you and kiss you all over the face, right then and there. He looks at you smiling lightly and thrusts his left hand towards you.

You are taken aback at what looks like a cover for a dress and look back at him as his eyes land everywhere except on yours. “It’s for you,” he says, letting a cough out again as you take it from his hand slowly and put it on your bed.

You keep quiet, knowing your voice will betray you and you undo the chain and gasp out loud.

There lay the dress of the design you had fallen in love with on the first day, the day he ruined your moment with the drawing by making a snarky comment, in a lilac colour. Your breath falls short as you realise the “mistake” he made of counting eleven models was just to show you this dress and see your reaction to it.

Seeing how you became quiet, Hongjoong panics and starts blabbering, “I asked Seonghwa and he said your favourite colour is lilac. I also had seen how you liked this design of mine so I decided why not make it? And of course, it’s a gift but if you want you can give it back, I mean no pressure, it’s just a small token of appreciation and not much, and again you can always return it or throw it-“

“Hongjoong shut up,” you deadpan looking at him straight in the eye as you interrupt his blabber and he stares back at you, blankly.

“I love it, it’s beautiful, thanks,” you whisper out looking at the dress and back up at him as he feels shy under your gaze and laughs nervously.

You fiddle through the layers of the dress, feeling the expensive fabric below your fingers. “You like it so much, you forget the one you made it,” Hongjoong whines jokingly and comes closer to your back, peering over your shoulders.

You can feel his shallow breath on your shoulder and you turn to face him feeling bold. It was now or never.

Tomorrow this opportunity will have left your hand as you will both go separate ways. Him staying in Paris for the Balman show while you return to Korea.

“I love it because I know it came from you,” you reply. You can see his eyes brighten up like stars as he smiles back, his hands hesitantly hovering over your waist and he looks at you.

Your bold demeanour vanishes as soon as it comes and you look down, fiddling with your pyjama strings. You were hyper-aware of the proximity between you two and you felt snowflakes in your stomachs which made you feel all giddy.

The kick-on-the-bed-while-lying type giddy. The giggling-while-texting-him type giddy. Like a high-school crush.

“I like you Hongjoong,” you speak fast, all in one breath as you see Hongjoong inhaling sharply and shock clear in his eyeballs and you know you messed up. Shit, why did you have to tell him? You could have been quiet and miserable your whole life instead of making a complete fool of yourself now.

You try to spin around and get out of his gaze but his grip on your waist tightens and makes you stay and you look at him surprised and stutter out, “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I like you too, you uptight idiot,” he whispers and you could feel the world spinning. Like what? He likes you back? How is that even possible?

“Do you want to kiss or I can leave and you can stay inside your thoughts,” he teases you and you glare at him. How could he ruin a moment like this? He giggles lightly at your glaring face before leaning in and attaching his lips to yours.

You stumble slightly, from the shock that you are actually kissing him, in a dark room in a hotel, the city lights being your only witness. You kiss him back with fervour and wrap your hands around his neck and he holds your waist and his other hands lands on your cheek. His lips felt impossibly soft and you could have described it as the best feeling in the world right then and there.

Eventually, you two part as he leaves one last peck which makes you giggle, hiding your face in his neck as he laughs teasing you about the calm and collected CEO falling apart for him. “If you do this after every kiss, I am never going to stop kissing you,” he laughs, and his voice fills the room making you feel incredibly happy.

“Shut up, Kim,” you whisper playfully and he looks down at your red face.

“Make me, darling,” he tempts and this time you pull him into another kiss. Yes, you got shy again afterwards and made him almost faint at your cuteness.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. the story is over but i am not over the couple so expect some afterthoughts in the hongjoong timestamps and drabbles later. tysm for reading. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[mingigoo]

look after you || k.hj (m.)

🩺 pairing ⇢ nurse! (fem) reader x struggling musician! Hongjoong

🩺 synopsis ⇢ after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

🩺 genre/au ⇢ enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au

🩺 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, injury, car accident, hospital scenes, unprotected sex, undefined relationship, mention of possible suicide attempt, Hongjoong is a scruffy underground musician, trauma with touch, tattoo!joong, grumpy sunshine, cum shot, biting, teasing

🩺 word count ⇢ 10.3k

🩺 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

masterlist

A/N ⇢ this story is purely fictional! I am not nurse, and do not have unlimited knowledge on this topic. However, I am a healthcare worker, so I know a little, but not a lot. I am sorry for any information this is incorrect. This is meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not meant to take place in reality.

They never prepare you enough for the things you might see within the hospital walls. 

Nothing is ever enough within those few years of education, the desperate attempt to create life savers. No one tells you how much it hurts to see a child suffer until death, a mother, a daughter.

You just wanted to be something. Do something. Be like the girl you dreamed of being as a child—a child who put bandaids on her mother, all over, decorating her like a painting. Sometimes, your mother would act like she was hurt, just for you to play make-belief, “stitching” up her “wounds.”

And here you were, in the hospital locker room, tears falling silently down your cheeks as you unclipped your hair, letting it fall just like the tears. You sniffed, hiding your face in the locker, although no one was around to see. It was embarrassing enough to yourself—you couldn't believe you were crying. You just…couldn't stop.

The day was rough—just too much. Too much death, too much sadness. This wasn't what you dreamed of. You never thought about how hard it would be to put a smile on your face to a patient, right after witnessing someone leave the world. To act, really. You should've taken up that career instead. You were pretty damn good at doing it—well, until you landed behind the curtain.

You haven't slept in ages. It's been constant insomnia on top of twelve-hour shifts, sometimes even longer, and once you are able to lay down, the only thing you hear is the sound of a patient crashing, the cries of family members. It had you questioning your profession. Your devotion. Your childhood.

As you made your drive home, for some reason, the lines on the road soothed you. Your eyes began to beg for sleep, rolling back ever so slightly as you continued. The gentle patter of rain graced the windshield, the red hue of the stoplight in front of you nearing. 

You stopped at the light—pausing to look at the city around you. The city was bright, even at the dark hour of midnight. People were walking, carrying on,  bar lights bright, apartments lit up in an array of colors. You took in a breath and closed your eyes.

And you closed them a little too long when a car horn sounded behind you.

You jumped, feeling apologetic for holding up the line, and continued forward. People passed you with impatience, but you didn't care. You kept going, crawling, really, till you felt sleep creep up once again, shutting your eyes. You drifted off, only for a short moment, and suddenly you awoke with haste—but not quick enough. In your headlights stood a man, walking across the street, and you didn't have enough time to move. You slowed as best you could, tires screeching, praying to anything, anyone, that this was your imagination.

As your car came to a screeching halt, you hit the man with a thump, causing him to crumble to the ground. You gasped, now wide awake, a scream caught in your throat.

You swallowed hard, hands shaking as you pulled over as best as you could and put your vehicle in park, looking around for any sign of someone. 

No one, absolutely no one, but you and this man you just hit. Just a few blocks back, the city was bustling, bars were hopping, but now, it was like a wasteland. You stepped out of your car, gasping for air, and sprinted through the rain to get to the man.

He was lying still, his head bleeding, his back on the asphalt. His black clothing hid the damage he received from the hit, hiding his body, his black hair covering his face. The only thing you saw was the black ink of a tattoo on his hand as it grasped the road.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, kneeling down to him. You assessed him as best as you could, fighting an anxiety attack. “I am so sorry, oh my god.”

He groaned in response, his arm visibly broken. You hurriedly dialed the emergency line, panting, nearly in tears. You didn't even think about the consequences of this action—you were only worried about the man, the stranger, in front of you. 

After nearly crying once more on the phone, the paramedics explained that they would arrive quickly. You hung up and looked over the stranger once more. “Are you alive?” you asked like a dumb ass, nearly face-palming. You were a nurse, goddammit. Act like one. 

You leaned over him, as gently as possible, putting a finger under his nose, and you felt a soft breath hit it. You checked for an airway obstruction, but nothing. He was breathing fine. In pain, but breathing.

The man tried to move, to roll over sharply, but you quickly bellowed, “Wait, please, you could have a spinal injury,” you pleaded, and surprisingly he stopped. “Don't move.” You caught a glimpse of his face. A large cut near his eyebrow painted his skin crimson, but his eyes were beautiful. His lip was cut, too, and you felt immense pain just looking at him. God, what if he was homeless? He looked it. What if he didn't have insurance? Oh god—

You saw how much blood was coming from his head as he looked up at you. His eyes were hazy, like he wasn't really seeing. You hurriedly looked around for anything to stop his bleeding, and when you found nothing, you took your coat off, then your scrub top, and you quickly put your coat back on. You held your shirt to his head as gently as possible, applying pressure, praying that the paramedics would come soon—

Your anxious thoughts were interrupted by sirens. You let out a sigh of relief.

When the ambulance pulled up, two men came to you with a stretcher. You were barely alert enough to hear them say anything. You mumbled a few things, your hands shaking as they set down the gurney. You mumbled to have them put on a neck brace, chest tightening at how the man cried in pain. You let out an ugly cry with him, but no tears fell. They gently rested him on the stretcher, his head steady, but his arm—

“Are you crazy!” you hissed, standing up quickly. “His arm….he needs his arm stabilized!”

“I’m sorry, mam,” the one man condescendingly said, giving you a dull look. “We know how to do our job. We don't need your input.”

You huffed. Mam? Mam? That was insulting. “I’m a nurse, I also know what I’m talking about.”

They ignored you like everyone seemed to ignore you. They began to move away, but a small object caught their eye that lay right where the man was. You picked it up, finding it to be an empty wallet—you’d give it back later.

They rolled him towards the ambulance, and you followed, forgetting about your car, and everything in it, leaving the scene behind. The paramedics didn't seem to care that you went with them, so you sat in the vehicle, watching them treat the guy you hit. You wanted to throw up as they treated him, as you sat still, like a worthless piece of paper. A crumbled-up piece of paper. Yeah. Crumbled. 

When you arrived at the hospital—a hospital that wasn't yours, you walked beside the homeless man, nearly reaching for his hand. However, your race with him was put to a stop as the emergency room staff stopped you as he headed into the wing.

“I’m sorry, only family members are allowed inside,” the woman softly muttered, her eyes genuine. 

She reminded you of yourself.

What….what if this man was really homeless? What if he had no help, no insurance, no family? You had to do something. You’d feel horrible if you didn't do anything.

“I’m—I’m his wife!” you blurted out, louder than you intended. 

The young lady gave you a heartfelt look and nodded towards the door. “Go ahead. There’s a waiting room inside. What’s your name? I’ll let them know you’re the guardian.”

You told her your name, sparing no second longer than needed, and you ran into the emergency room, sitting down in a hurry.

It was now a waiting game.

—

For what seemed like forever, a doctor came out into the waiting room, looking right at you. 

“Miss y/n?” He asked.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “….You are Kim Hongjoong’s guardian?”

You paused, almost forgetting your whole spiel at the entrance. You remembered the name from his ID in his wallet, and nodded sharply, standing up quickly. “Is he all right?”

“He sustained many injuries, but nothing too major. His arm is broken in three places, and that will limit his mobility quite a lot. We set his arm, but he might possibly need surgery.”

You nodded, relief washing over you. Good, minor injuries. Phew. 

The doctor pondered for a long while as he stared at you. “The paramedics stated that you were the one to hit him with the car.”

You sighed. “Yeah, he came out of nowhere—”

“Why was he walking alone so late at night?”

You looked around the waiting room, seeing only one other soul in the corner seat, sleeping. You wondered about what to say, as your little white lie was becoming a web. 

“I uh….he works late?”

“He was intoxicated at the time of the accident—”

“He works at a bar?” you tried not to sound like you were questioning that statement.

The doctor deadpanned and then sighed. “Listen, I’m sure there's stuff that’s none of my business. So I’m going to choose to ignore this,” he nodded toward the emergency wing. “But you’re welcome to go see him. He’s awake now.”

You wondered for a second whether you should go back there. If he was going to rip your head off for lying, for hitting him with your damn car.

You nodded, telling yourself to grow some damn balls. “Okay, I’ll see him.”

The doctor led you to a room at the very end of the hall, the lights dim. There, in front of you, was the man you hit. He was all bandaged up, a large one spanning around his forehead, covering some of the spikey black hair. His arm was wrapped in a cast and held up for circulation, and his eyes were wide open. Right on you.

“Your wife is here,” the doctor spoke nonchalantly as he entered with you. However, you were stationary at the door. 

“Wife?” he scoffed, coughing a bit. He tried to sit up, but you put on your act, walking up to his bedside. 

“Don't move,” you spoke sweetly, eyes pleading. The attractive man just furrowed a brow, his lips curling down in a grimace.

“We’re gonna keep you here for observation tonight, and see how you are doing in the morning to keep an eye on that arm of yours.” The doctor quickly did what he needed to do and left, leaving you alone with….your husband?

The pretty homeless guy spared no second in the questioning. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes widened, looking down at him. He gazed up at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. A tattoo peaked out of his hospital gown, where it met the skin of his neck. 

“Listen,” you sat down roughly on the seat next to the bed. He watched you emotionlessly. “I’m sorry—I didn't see you when you walked across the road. I take full responsibility,” you breathed, getting nervous under his gaze. 

You were expecting him to scream at you. Well, at least to freak out in some way. It was more alarming that he sat still, completely still, his mouth set in a line.

You blinked.

“I don't care, it’s fine,” he sighed. He showed no emotion, nothing. Not even a twinkle of anger. It was the look in his eye that told you that maybe, just maybe, he ran in front of your car on purpose.

Your eyes widened at the man in front of you—at hongjoong in front of you. He looked distraught tired, brown eyes never leaving your face as you gazed at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head.

“You can leave now,” he huffed, eyes dropping to your open mouth before darting up back to your eyes. “I’m not sure why you're even here in the first place.”

It was your turn to scoff. You crossed your legs in irritation at his lack of care. “Well, maybe because I hit you with my damn car? Maybe I’m worried, maybe I feel horrible, maybe I wanted to see if you were going to be okay.”

Hongjoong just blankly stared. He didn't show any signs of pain, of anger, of anything, really. 

“You don't have to worry,” he spoke eventually, turning away from your gaze to look forward. You watched the tattoo dance against his neck as he moved. “I’m fine. This is all fine.”

You didn't know what to say, how to feel. Your head was spinning, all the tiredness washed away. It pained you to see him so empty, so barren, even though he was a stranger. “I feel like I need to do something for you.”

He bit the bottom of his busted lip, as if forgetting. He made a face, the only expression he’s shone. “No need.”

“But I need to,” you leaned forward, closer to him. He turned to you, eyes void. “I’ll pay for your hospital bill, maybe treat you for a dinner, I don't know—”

“Don't,” he hissed. His eyes grew dark, the fire in them rising. You nearly shrunk back in response to his sudden change of attitude. “Listen, just forget about this, about me, all of it. I don't need your money, or your time, or—” he paused, his anger faltering as he looked at you. “Just…just carry on with your life. I’ll only affect it if I stay in it.”

You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It didn't matter, though. Your guilt was all-consuming—and the fact that he most likely ended up in front of the car on purpose really was overbearing.

After a second of just…staring at one another, you sighed. “One meal.”

He didn't make a face. Didn't change his plain, empty expression. You looked at his starless eyes, his pale skin. You had the need to brighten him up, to heal him. That was your job, after all.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse came in before he could say a word. You immediately straightened, putting on a smile, hoping he would keep up the act even though he had no reason to. You didn't want to be kicked out—not right now. 

“How are we feeling, Hongjoong?” the young nurse asked, a smile on her bright face. 

“Fine, I guess.” His response was toneless. The nurse still bubbled around, checking his vitals. You watched as he stiffened as the woman touched him. 

She looked at you, arching a brow. “Oh? Are you the wife?” she let out a hum of appreciation, then turned her gaze to Hongjoong. “You’re lucky with this one. They said she freaked out when they didn't stabilize your arm and when they wouldn't let her inside the emergency wing! She must really love you to nearly fight someone to get back here.”

Hongjoong, for the little time you knew him, showed more emotion on his face than ever after hearing that. After hearing that someone—you, a stranger nonetheless—was distraught at his expense. His lips flattened in a line, his gaze faltering.

You grabbed his good hand, although bruises were painted across his knuckles. Old, yellowing bruises. You furrowed your brows, subconsciously rubbing a thumb softly over the colored skin. Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening, at either your caring touch or the pain it could have been causing. Or both.

You felt your stomach tighten as you met eyes with him. The air was stuffy, his eyes were….practically begging for a reason for your attention, as if he’d never had it before.

“I’m lucky to have him,” you sighed, acting but feeling an intense pull to him. Just touching him, although you didn't even know him, felt like a second nature. 

Maybe it was the regret, the disparity, of hitting him, of being the reason his life was almost nonexistent. Maybe this feeling was because of the responsibility you felt for doing this to him. It didn't matter if it was true; this tension you were feeling with the stranger was more powerful than what you felt with your ex, the one before that, and the one before.

His face was devout of color besides the bruises that scattered his skin. He looked drained, tired, alone. The nurse just smiled at you two, noticing your bloody scrubs and messy exterior. “You’re a nurse, too?”

You just nodded, lost in the feeling that strummed through your body.

Hongjoong’s hand twitched under your hold, his eyes still wide. Still on you.

“Well, Hongjoong,” the friendly nurse smiled. “Don't let her go, she’s a keeper.”

He tore his gaze from you to look at your hand on his. He swallowed hard, blinking. “Ah, yeah.”

Soon after the nurse left, your hand still rested on his. He sat silently, staring forward at the whiteboard with his name on it.

“I….” you struggled with your words, realizing you were still caressing his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand away. His head shot towards you.

After a few moments of silence, he said, “It’s okay.” His tone was soft, defeated. 

You wiped your hands on your thighs, sweating buckets. “I, uh, I should go.”

He watched you stand up, but your back was turned, unable to see the wishful glance he offered you. 

You stopped in the door frame, turning around to meet his eyes once more. 

“It was nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you smiled, watching the glimmer in his eye trying to sparkle. “I wish you well.”

Before you were able to leave the room, he called for you.

“Wait,” he breathed, voice raspy.

You froze.

He took a breath in, exhaling his words. “What’s your name?” 

You turned around. “Y/n,” you spoke softly, your chest aching at the little half-smile peeking through his bruised lips.

“y/n,” he repeated, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything else. You didn't either. You smiled at him once more before turning on your heel and walking out of the room, despite the tear in your heart telling you to stay.

And on your way out, you paid his hospital bill in full, not a single regret in your mind about it.

—

After a few days, you continued your days like normal.

Well, as normal as they could be. Your mind wandered to the spikey haired guy at every sparing second, thinking of how his eyes pleaded something unreadable, how his hand twitched underneath yours.

You were at the hospital, reaching the end of your workday in the emergency room. After running in with a few scruffy-looking guys, they reminded you of a certain someone, and you just wanted to tear at your hair. You were certain your odd feelings were due to the fact that you hit him with your car, and nothing else. This will pass. 

When the quietness of the night was about to still, a man ran into the emergency room door.

“My friend is hurt,” The man huffed in desperation. You turned to the commotion, seeing a thin, black-haired man holding up another—his friend. But that friend and his familiar spikey hair jolted something inside of you.

You jumped out of your seat behind the nurses’ station and ran to the men, meeting eyes with the taller one. He was just as beautiful as hongjoong was, but his eyes were frantic.

“Sir, what happened?” you questioned, reaching out to the man who was just who you thought. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his eyes squinted in pain, his teeth barred. You carefully steadied him. “What’s hurting you?”

At your voice, Hongjoong opened his eyes wide, looking straight at you. “Y/n?” he grunted out, his breaths strained. He shut his eyes again, and you almost couldn't take the look he had on his face.

“His arm,” the other guy said to you as you called for help,  struggling to hold Hongjoong up. “He got into a fight at the bar, some guy decided to mess with his broken arm and, well…..”

You felt a sense of rage fill your body. You wanted to ask Hongjoong why the hell he was at the bar only days after getting hit by a damn car, let alone getting into a fight.

A few other nurses gathered around, all helping to walk him over to a bed. The wing was empty at this time of night—only a few people around. Once again, Hongjoong looked extremely uncomfortable as the nurses touched him.

You held him gently as you set him down on the bed, feeling his fingers curl around your arm.

He held on to you with his good arm—the hand you held only days before. The other nurses fluttered around, setting things up, but Hongjoong just stared up at you.

“Hi,” is all he said, his fingertips etching into your skin.

Your chest tightened, forcing yourself to smile. “We must be fated or something,” you joked, hoping to brighten him up. “That or you just frequent hospitals often.”

He blinked up at you, his eyebrows knitted in pain. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” He coughed as he joked.

Your heart skipped a beat, the other nurses and the man that came with him side-eyeing you.

“If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways than this,” you huffed, looking around. “We have to get an X-ray, alright? We’ll give you something to ease your pain meanwhile.”

The air between you two was undeniable. He nodded, emotion sparkling in his eyes, unlike the days before. You wondered if you were the reason for it.

It was probably just the pain.

The other nurses wheeled him to the radiology room, leaving you alone with the man who brought him there.

“You’re the girl that hit him, aren't you?” His voice was soft, gentle. It held no anger.

You turned to him, seeing the caring exterior he showed. “I….yes.”

He tilted his head at you, blinking, as if figuring you out in a single glance. “He’s been looking all over for you. You…paid his bill. He doesn't like handouts.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? I didn't think he ever wanted to see me again. You know, I hit him with my car—that isn't something to take lightly—”

“You paid his bill,” the man repeated, crossing his arms. “He feels indebted to you. Please just make sure he knows not to feel that way.” The man sighed, looking into your eyes. “Despite how he looks, he ruminates over things. He’s sensitive. He’s a mess right now.”

You sighed, too. “I…I paid his bill because I did this to him—”

“No,” he interrupted, eyes serious. “You didn't.”

You knitted your brows. “....What do you mean?”

The man gave you a deadpan stare, as if not wanting to spell it out. He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “He….he jumped in front of your car on purpose, y/n,” he bit his bottom lip. “So no, you really didn't do it to him. He’s…he’s just been a mess lately—and now that you acted sweet, played a wife, held his hand or whatever, he’s even more of a mess.”

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Hongjoong was back, alert and upright, but the pain still rested on his face. His gaze met yours, and you felt your stomach swirl in a mess of emotions.

You couldn't look him in the eye as you took care of him.

—

Hongjoong was sleeping as your shift was about to end. Before you clocked out, you couldn't help but go to him, check his injury out, check his vitals. His friend—Seonghwa, you learned his name—left about an hour ago.

As if noticing your presence, his eyes slowly peeked open, slightly drugged and delirious from the pain medications.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” he mumbled out, blinking lazily.

“I didn't expect you, either,” you spoke, keeping your emotions in check.

Silence enveloped you as you checked his pulse ox. 

“Why’d you do that?”

He turned his head to look at you. “Do what?”

You unclipped the pulse oximeter from his finger. “Why’d you get into that fight? You were really injured.” You wanted to ask the deeper question, the question as to why he stepped in front of your car, but you didn't want to overstep.

He shrugged, wincing. He didn't have an answer. He didn't owe you one, really. 

“Just,” you breathed, moving over to the computer to open his chart. “Just don't do anything like this while you’re healing. You need surgery. You need rest.”

He bit his lip, probably stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't. 

“Also,” you sighed, looking over at him. “Your friend told me you were looking for me?”

“Yeah, well,” he scoffed. “I really didn't mean to meet you here.”

You let out a chuckle. “Well, here we are.”

He nearly smiled at you, lips curling beautifully. He had a bit of dried blood on his lip, and knowing that you were supposed to be leaving, you still reached for a washcloth. You didn't need to do this—in fact, you were acting against every thought in your head as you leaned forward and brushed the cloth against his lip, watching them part.

His breath hitched as you neared, as you touched him, and once again, his hand twitched, begging to touch you.

Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment too long, meeting his eyes. He stared at you, expression unreadable, lips parted.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

You took a second to study his face before you moved away from him. His eyes followed you as you put space between you and him, dark and beautiful. 

You logged out of the portal on the computer. “We’ll move you to your own room before we prep you for surgery,” you said gently, heart aching as you met his gaze once more. “The doctor will tell you more.”

“Will you….be there for the surgery?” he showed no specific feelings as he asked the question.

“I am only part of the emergency department right now,” you shrugged. “I don't think so.”

He pondered for a second before nodding, settling himself back into the comfort of his hospital bed. “Okay,” he spoke softly.

You offered him a solemn look, causing him to stiffen.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” you repeated, confused.

He blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you frowned.

“Like you feel sorry for me.” He looked pained, a deeper type of pain.

You thought about a response to that—you didn't necessarily feel sorry for him, you didn't pity him either. In fact, you just felt an immense feeling of wanting to see him happy, to see him without pain.

Which confused you incredibly, given that he was just a stranger.

“I don't feel sorry for you,” you clarified. “I just don't want you to be in pain.”

“You don't even know me,” he huffed, his expression contorting, and you figured that he didn't even know how he was feeling—what he was feeling. “Why would you even care if I’m hurting?”

You smiled at him. “Because you don't deserve the pain.”

He just stared at you, hazily, emotionally. There was a light in his eyes—a light that wasn't there the other day. “You don't know me well enough to know that.”

The air grew cold; you had nothing left to say. You wished he realized that he didn't have to suffer like this.

“Goodnight, Hongjoong,” you hummed, walking away, feeling his stare burn into your back.

—

The next day, you found yourself drawn to the bed Hongjoong was in yesterday. It was empty, with him now in a room of his own in another part of the hospital.

You typed away at your computer as your colleague, Yeosang, came up to you. 

“Hey,” he leaned over the counter of the nurses’ station. “There's a guy asking for you.”

Yeosang, although very young, was a surgical resident in orthopedics. He was super smart, super sexy, super everything. You went to school together, spending lots of time in the library and everywhere else together. 

“Who?” you mumbled without looking up.

“He’s a patient I’m prepping for an open reduction surgery, but he’s having a hard time letting anyone touch him. Says he only needs you or something.”

You looked up, hands freezing on your keyboard. Hongjoong. “He won't let anyone touch him?”

Yeosang sighed, propping his head up on his palm as he leaned on the counter. “We had to give him more pain medication, and it made him a bit….difficult. I suspect he has some sort of trauma.”

You frowned. “And why is he asking for me?”

Yeosang gave you a knowing look. “I don't know. He kept saying your name, saying he needed you.”

You tried to avoid the rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don't even know him.”

“Yeah, about that….” Yeosang looked a bit confused, a smile peeking through his lips. “He keeps calling you his wife.”

Oh, dear god. “How drugged is he?” you huffed, looking defeated. 

Yeosang laughed. “I kept telling him that you weren't his wife, and he got super mad at me. He said only his wife can touch him. I really need him to stop this so I can get him into pre-op,” The surgeon sighed, giving you a pleading glance. “I’ll ask the attending if you can scrub in—”

“I’m an ER nurse,” you raised a brow. “I have other duties, Yeosang.”

“Y/n, please,” Yeosang pleaded, “ignore the rules or whatever. Can you just come and help me so we can get him into surgery?”

Your mind wandered to the fact that Hongjoong was having a hard time. Sure, he was delirious off of his meds and pain, but knowing that he was struggling with touch, a part of you crumbled.

So you followed Yeosang—after getting approved by the charge nurse, and went up to the third floor.

As you neared the room, you let Yeosang enter first. 

“Mr. Kim, I have Nurse y/n here for you.”

There Hongjoong was, his eyes frantic, his breathing rushed. He was anxious, a mess. The nurses tried to ease him, and relax him, but he wasn't having it. That is, until he saw you in the doorway.

“y/n,” he breathed, as if he knew you forever. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, Hongjoong,” you spoke softly, walking slowly near him. You sat in the chair next to his bed, scooting closer as the room emptied, Yeosang being the only other presence. “I heard you were asking for me.”

He blinked, his eyes lined with worry, with anxiety. For someone who looks so tough, he looks like a completely different person.

He didn't speak; he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression all over the place. You took a glance at Yeosang, who was observing you before you reached for Hongjoong's hand just like before. 

The bruises were faded now, only old scars left on his skin. A tattoo trailed the skin of his arm. You went to rub his knuckles,  but Hongjoong gripped your hand tightly.

You met his frantic gaze. No words were spoken. He just pleaded with his touch, his eyes. You knew he was scared. 

“It's okay,” you hummed, fighting the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It's a simple surgery. You will be just fine.”

He mumbled something, but you weren't able to catch it. Yeosang stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, the other nurses peering over his shoulder from the hall. Hongjoong’s gaze moved to the door, seeing everyone watching him.

And you realized that, more than being anxious, he was embarrassed, too.

You looked to Yeosang, giving him a desperate look, a silent cry for him to leave and to get those damn nosy bitches out, too. He complied, and they were alone once more.

“It’s alright,” you hummed, and this time, you did reach out to his face, gliding a gentle hand across his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned into your touch, craving it, longing for it, as if you were really his wife. “They’re gone now.”

His eyes were droopy, his lips downturned. He looked tough, someone with a rough exterior, but now, he was crumbling. He was alone. Alone to the point that he called for you, basically a stranger to him. 

The moment could have lasted forever. His eyes bled into yours, yours into his, your hand on his cheek drawing circles into his skin. He took in a breath, and nodded.

“Will you let them take care of you?” you asked him gently.

He hesitated. You also did, as you realized that he leaned into your touch rather than avoiding it. That he felt comfortable with you—the one who hurt him. In his eyes, though, he didn't see it that way.

Your hand stilled on his cheek, his worried eyes lighting up a little. You didn't even realize that his good hand—the hand that you were holding just a minute before, was now resting on top of your hand that was on his cheek. He gripped it, his medical haze confusing him, confusing you.

You froze, your eyes wide. You allowed his fingers to interlock yours, having him hold your hand to his face as he shut his eyes. He was vulnerable. Human. Although he looked tough, looked troubled, he was just a person under all that trouble. Just a normal guy with normal feelings, normal fears.

And you were indebted to each other. You for hitting him, him for his gratefulness of your care.

“I’ll be there with you,” you murmured, knowing that Yeosang was still outside the room, close enough to hear, close enough to see. “I’ll be in the room while they’re operating.” 

He nodded, his grip loosening slightly, but he still didn't release your hand.

“I’ll look after you,” you offered, and his eyes met yours once more. 

He slowly let go of your hand, allowing you to move back. You looked at Yeosang through the window, giving him a curt nod for him to come back in. 

Hongjoong let the other nurses touch him, but not without a grimace on his face. Yeosang’s words swirled around your mind; I suspect he has some sort of trauma.

Trauma. Trauma that didn't quite reach you—your touch. He allowed it, actually, he wanted it. You wondered what made him okay with yours. Why he needed you when you were the one to do this to him.

Eventually, Hongjoong entered the operating room, knocked out by anesthesia, but not without you holding his hand, making him childlike, making him….a normal human being.

—

After the surgery, Hongjoong sat in his bed even more dazed than before. Before the daze wore off, he kept calling you his wife, causing confusion to stir around the hospital. 

As you left Hongjoong’s room to go back to the ER, Yeosang followed. “What’s this about?”

“I don't know what you mean.” 

You walked faster.

“I mean, why does that guy keep calling you his wife?” Yeosang’s shoulder bumped into yours accidentally as you turned a corner. “And why are you the only one who can touch him? Why did you—”

You stopped suddenly. “Why did I what?”

Yeosang let out a breath. “Why did you….touch him like that? As far as I know, you….you aren't married.”

“I’m not married, you’re right,” you nodded, confused by why you touched him like that, too. Confused as to why he looked so relaxed with your touch rather than freaking out. “And…let’s just say we have met each other before. I did that to calm him down.”

You continued walking towards the elevator, Yeosang following still. “Okay, but you still didn't answer my question about why he keeps calling you his wife.” you pressed the down button and waited.

“Is that really any of your business?”

“Just a little—”

“Why?” you interrupted, turning towards him, arms crossed. “Why does it matter to you?”

You didn't mean to sound rude, you and Yeosang were good friends for a while. You've never dated, but you’ve flirted with each other occasionally. You never thought much of it other than being a little playful.

But the look on Yeosang’s face caused you to pause your racing thoughts. “Because I thought we…we had something going on?”

You blinked. “Do we?”

“I mean,” Yeo scoffed. “With the way you were looking at him, I don't think I have a chance.”

The elevator dinged, doors opening. You paused for a second before entering, Yeosang following.

It was quiet before the doors closed.

“I didn't think I looked at him any differently than anyone else,” you admitted honestly, causing Yeosang to look over at you. 

He gave you a smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You feel something for him, huh?”

You frowned, leaning back against the wall. “I barely know him. I only…” you sighed. “I only met him twice.”

“But yet, you are the only one he allows to touch him,” Yeosang breathed as the elevator dinged on the first floor. 

“That’s something to think about.”

—

Hongjoong was back to his normal self when you went to check on him in the evening; the anesthesia and meds had worn off. His arm was bandaged up and held in a sling, his eyes empty once more. 

You hesitated on entering, but his stare moved to you.

For a second, you saw regret, and embarrassment, cross his face before melting back into a void stare.

You entered, but he didn't look at you. He avoided your gaze, too. Very unlike his earlier, medical high self. 

You took his blood pressure, fingertips gently wrapping around his tattooed bicep as you put the cuff on. He didn't say anything, didn't even spare a passing glance. He just kept looking forward.

“119 over 79,” you mumbled out, letting loose of the cuff.

He nodded, coughing a bit. He didn't say anything, though.

“Dr. Kang told me that you’re cleared to be discharged,” you tried to start a conversation, but things just felt too awkward. You wrote down his vitals in his chart. “That’s good. Can I call anyone to pick you up? Maybe the guy that was here—”

“No,” he said quietly, looking down at his arm. “There is no one to call.”

“You need someone to help you. You just had surgery—”

“I have no one, y/n,” he hissed, finally looking at you. “Not like that’s any of your business, anyway.”

You didn't know what to say, so you just stared at him with confusion. He was putting his walls up.

“I just….don't want you to suffer alone,” you admitted.

“Why?” he let out a laugh, but it wasn't humorous. “I don't need your worry.”

“Okay,” you breathed, defeated. There was no point; he was just a stranger, just a man. Although, this feeling you had about him was overwhelming. And when you touched him, you wanted to hold him longer. Wanted him to feel better.

You left the room without a glance toward him and carried on the rest of your day as best you could.

—

Hongjoong was sitting on the bench outside the hospital entrance, head low, as if sleeping.

You knew you should keep walking. You shouldn't give him any attention, any time of day. But your chest ached as you got closer and closer, and as you reached him, you couldn't bear to walk past him.

“Why are you still here?” you asked him, keeping a good amount of distance away from him.

At your voice, he looked up quickly, as if waiting for you despite his nastiness earlier.

He took a second to respond. “I, uh, I’m just sitting here.”

You looked him over. His black hair was no longer styled spikey, it laid flat across his forehead softly. His tattoos were on full display in the black t-shirt he wore. 

“You don't have anywhere to go,” you meant to ask it like a question, but it came out more like a declaration. He furrowed his brows at your words but didn't deny it.

“I’m fine, I’ll figure it out,” he sniffed, the cold air dancing around him. He didn't even have a coat.

Without thinking, you spoke quickly. “Come with me.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because,” you huffed, taking a step closer to him. “I owe you.”

“For what?” he spat out, probably not intending to sound rude. 

You gave him an honest look, and his eyes softened. “Did you just forget that I hit you with my car? That I broke your arm?”

He just sat there, blinking slowly. “You don't owe me anything, y/n.”

You reached your hand out. His own hand twitched. “Come with me.”

After a long moment of just staring at your outstretched hand, he let his hand find yours, standing up at his full height. You got a good look at his face, his eyes, his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful. 

You held his hand as you walked to your car, feeling a flutter of emotion in the pit of your stomach.

When you got to the car, you helped him into the passenger seat, despite his aggravated digs at you. You leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.

You paused, frozen, inches away from his lips.

He swallowed hard, eyes glancing down at your lips. He didn't make a move. You didn't, either. 

You pulled away, forcing yourself to get out of his personal space to shut the door. You saw him tilt back his head and take a deep breath before you got to the driver's seat.

As you drove, you asked random questions like a goddamn idiot.

“So, uh,” you swallowed, looking over at him for a second. “What do you do for a living?”

What kind of damn question is that?

“I’m a musician,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “Kind of.”

“Ah,” you nodded, thinking of what to say next. Now you were thinking way too much into things. “What do you play?”

He looked down at his arm, sighing. “Well, I played the guitar, piano, some other things. I don't think I’ll be picking anything up for a while.”

“You will, eventually,” you tried to encourage him, but he just kept his gaze even out the window. You arrived at your apartment, pulled into the parking lot, and shut off the car. “We’re here.”

He nodded, watching you get out of the car. You opened his door, and with slight hesitation, you leaned over him again to unbuckle his seatbelt, but before you could, he stopped you with his good arm. 

You paused, inches from his face, meeting his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered quietly. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”

“You don't have to be sorry,” you whispered, feeling an immense pull to him, to his lips.

You ignored the urge and unbuckled the belt, but you didn't back away. Not like you could, anyway, with Hongjoong’s grip on your arm tightening.

The belt slowly slipped off of him.

He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with emotion. “I was just… embarrassed. And drugged, and uh, well,” he paused, thinking. “Mostly embarrassed. I can't believe I freaked out over a little surgery. That’s so lame—”

“No, it's not,” you hummed softly, delicately. “It's a normal fear.”

He smiled. Actually smiled. From the little time you knew him, you haven't seen a genuine smile on his face. Or any sort of light, really.

“Thanks, uh,” he sniffed. “Thanks again. For looking after me.” his eyes fell to your lips. “You don't even know me, and you still…” he trailed off.

You realized that you were inhaling the air he was exhaling, that you were eye to eye, almost nose to nose. His breaths were shaky, labored, and tired. 

“I would want someone to look after me in the same way,” You whispered. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he tilted his head upward, leaning against the headrest, warm, brown eyes on full display. 

“Mhm,” you swallowed. 

His eyes glimmered. He didn't have anything to say, and you didn't either. Realizing that you were shrinking the space ever so slowly, you took the opportunity to back away from the musician. He let go of your arm, but not without a little tug on it beforehand.

You cleared your throat as he got out of the car. You shut the door for him, and you walked together—slowly, till you reached your apartment door.

When you entered, hongjoong strayed back behind the door, not entering. You turned to face him, eyebrow raised. 

“Come in,” you beckoned, and with one more second of hesitation, he followed you in, shutting the door behind him.

He surveyed the place, his eyes finding the piano that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes danced as if surprised to see it there.

The air was thick. The room was quiet. You tossed off your shoes with ease, noticing his struggle with his own, so you bent down the help him. He didn't pull away, didn't speak. He just let you take care of it—of him.

“I don't mean to be a bother,” he mumbled as you untied his shoe. “But I’d really like to shower.”

You glanced up at him. “Oh,” you nodded, taking off his shoe before standing up. “Sure. it’s the first door down the hall.”

He didn't make any move. He stood, a confused, shy look resting on his face.

And then you realized.

He had no clothes to change into. Nothing. He also only had one working arm, and one covered in material that couldn't get wet.

“I can help you,” you trailed off, trying not to read too much into his stare. 

“If you comfortable with that.”

—

In the bathroom, Hongjoong stood anxiously as you waited for the water to warm up. It took a second, and most of the time, the hot water only lasted so long.

You figured a shower would be too difficult to help him with without seeing too much. You opted for a warm bath, filling the water up once it got hot enough. You made sure to add some suds to it, so he wasn't too uncomfortable.

When you turned around to face him,  his eyes were cloudy, his lips in a line.

“Do you….not like baths?” you mumbled, scratching your head. “I probably should've asked you before I—”

“It’s not that.” His eyes met yours, switching his weight onto his other leg. 

You didn't pry, knowing he was just probably embarrassed that he needed help for something as trivial as a bath. 

Walking toward him, he backed up into the door. You nearly smirked but maintained your cool as you grabbed the plastic bag off the sink counter. “I just have to wrap your cast in this. It'll just be a second. You might want to take your shirt off before I….”

He blinked, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“I don't think you normally bathe in clothes,” you murmured slyly, tilting your head. “Unless you like that.”

He didn't move. His body was as stiff as a board, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Just take your shirt off, dammit, or I’ll do it for you.”

You saw his expression change the minute the words left your mouth.

His good hand found the hem of his t-shirt, hesitating to take it off. You realized that he probably did need your help with taking it off, but with the look in his eye, you weren't sure what would happen if you got any closer to him.

But you moved closer, anyway, setting the plastic bag back onto the counter. His back was nearly up against the wooden door, his breath hitching as your fingertips gently pulled at the fabric.

“Why are you….so okay with this?” he breathed before you could pull the shirt up.

You met his gaze, his eyes unreadable. Almost as if he didn't know what he was feeling, either. 

“I told you already,” you shrugged, smiling.

He blinked, his eyes red with emotion, begging to send a flood down his cheeks. “I don't deserve your help.”

“You do, though.” Ever so slowly, you began to pull his shirt, soft, carved abs appearing as you moved it up. “Because you know, you don't have to suffer alone.”

“Who said I was suffering?” he croaked out, his eyes, his tone, spilling his guts out on the floor for her to see. 

You didn't say anything. You just slowly tugged the black t-shirt over his casted arm, watching him wince slightly. Then, he stood, half-naked, emotionally charged in front of you. He was no longer a stranger. No longer someone that you classified as a patient, either.

His eyes spoke volumes, his good hand twitching at his side. You looked at it, and took it in your own.

“Come on,” you nodded behind you. “I’ll help.”

He looked like he was ready to cry. Ready to break down. He didn't, though, and you walked him over to the bath. You unbuttoned his jeans, but turned around as he stepped out of them and into the tub. 

The soap covered his lower body, all that was on display was his torso, his slim shoulders, the tattoos inked on his tanned skin.  He didn't break away from your gaze as you began to wash him.

“I feel….something I shouldn't be feeling,” he swallowed, his voice raspy, tender, defeated. 

“And what’s that?” you wondered before running your hands through his silky hair, coating the strands in your lavender shampoo.

He shut his eyes, sighing. “I don't know what it is, but what I do know is, for some reason, your touch is very calming when everyone else’s hurts me.”

You paused, hands still tangled in his locks, but he opened his eyes.

A confession of feelings—worth more than any other cliche words. He stared up at you, heart on his sleeve, confusion and fear and everything in between dancing around his eyes.

“For the first time,” he whispered, the only sounds in the room being your shaky breathing and the quiet trickle of water from the spigot. “I feel…comfortable being touched. I….need it.”

His lips parted, his hair dripping wet, your hands still frozen within the strands. You didn't know how to respond, didn't know exactly how you felt, either. But you also knew one thing, and it became ever so apparent as his hand slowly reached your cheek, wet fingertips leaving a trail of soap across your skin.

You blinked slowly.

Softly, gently, you moved forward, over the tub, and brushed your lips against his. His eyes remained open from shock, but his lips moved slowly along with yours.

You pulled away, but didn't go too far, resting your forehead against his. His breaths tickled your skin, sending a blush to your cheeks. 

Emotions are complex. You didn't know exactly why you kissed him. Why you needed to. Why you wanted to do it again. But what you did know was that you liked how his touch felt, liked the little smile that appeared as you kissed him, liked how he gently pulled you back into another kiss.

You took in his breath as you kissed once more, this time a bit more urgent. Your hands gripped his soapy hair, his hand rested softly on your cheek, his thumb on the corner of your lips, his fingers tickling the lobe of your ear. 

He kissed you like he knew you forever. Like he knew just how you liked it. You found your hand trailing down his tattooed neck, fingers dancing on the ink, his dewy skin, his tongue in your mouth.

You parted once more, so close, breaths tangling, fingers scrunching. His breath was hot against your face, his dark eyes pleading.

You’d so get on top of him in that damn tub. You wanted to, so bad. But you remembered that his arm was hurt, that you were the one that did it, and you nearly stood up to move away before he gripped you by the arm.

“Don't go,” he breathed hazily.

So you didn't. You washed him, this time, knowing that you were begging to end this bath and fuck him silly till the sunrise. Till the warm, glow of the burning star fluttered through your blinds. And with that damn look on his face, you knew he was thinking about it, too.

You helped him out of the bath, not turning around this time. He stood slowly, body on full display, even more tattoos, even more scars covering the skin you didn't get to see. 

You sheepishly handed him a towel. He took it, but didn't use it to cover himself up.

“You’re not dating that damn doctor, are you?” he spoke, his tone serious, deep. Sensuous. 

You breathed out, “No.” 

He grinned, cheshire-like. “Good.”

You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off. He wanted to claw at your skin like some goddamn animal, his expression pained in all of the right ways. 

You needed air. God, this bathroom was stuffy.

Turning on your heel, you forced yourself to walk out of the damn room, because if you didn't, Hongjoong would become something far more stranger than, well, a stranger to you.

But he had other plans. More impulsive plans.

He followed you out of the bathroom and into your main living space. He gripped your hand, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. When you turned to face him, he was dripping wet onto the lightwash wood floor, beads of water collecting on the ends of his hair. His eyes were wide, begging you for something, anything.

So you gave up on your act.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?” you wheezed, smiling as his eyes widened even more. “Is that what you want?”

You stepped closer to him at his silence, and arched your body against his bare torso, feeling the hardness of him press your thigh, his lips begging to meet yours once more.

You teased him, lifting your mouth to his, letting out a sigh. He shivered as your hands felt up his bare skin, and your hot breath tickled his face. 

He nearly growled, his good arm wrapping around your waist swiftly, tugging your body towards him completely, holding you here as his mouth crashed to yours. His broken arm begged to touch you, too, and without thinking, he moved it quickly. He hissed in pain, his arm definitely hurting him, but he didn't care as much as you did. You tried to part from his lips, to ask him if he was okay, but he bit hard down on your lip to keep you from speaking. 

You moaned while he stuck his tongue down your throat, his hand now tearing at your top, your waistband. You hurriedly tore off your clothes for him, giving him no second to stare at your body before tossing yourself onto him again. He grunted, moaning into your mouth, the vibrations tickling every part of you. He pushed you back, nearly tripping over the throw rug, the coffee table, until your back slammed into the keyboard of your piano.

The keys slammed as your ass hit them roughly, the musician making music without even intending to. His hips bucked into yours, your core right where he needed it, his dick pulsing, aching to be inside you. You lifted your hips, grinding them against his cock, gaining pleasure in his expression.

He nearly whined as you bit his ear lobe, his hips shifting into you, begging for you.

“Can I get inside you?” he moaned, eyes frantic. “I need you, fuck, I need it bad.”

In more ways than one, he needed you, but now, he needed your body. Needed your touch, your moans. You obliged, your body already wet enough for him to enter. You lined up, and without a second to waste, he slowly moved into you, causing you to toss your head back at the feeling. His eyes rolled back; a whine left his pretty pink lips, his chest heaved in pleasure.

His head dipped to suck your nipple, tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of your breast. You huffed, trying so hard to breathe. He let out moans that did something dangerous to your body, to your mind. You moaned along with him as his hips snapped.

“Oh, god,” he whimpered, his tone light, airy. Water dripped onto the soft skin of his chest from his hair. “You feel so good.”

You smiled, tearing your hands up his back as the piano cried along with you. The keys clicked, moaning from the weight above them. The music filled the room, tangled within your breaths, your sweat. You gripped the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his wet, dripping hair, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter by the minute.

Your walls caved into him, his cock pulsing inside you. He looked into your eyes for a long moment as he moved, his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open in gratification. He kissed you, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, tugging on it. He liked to bite.

You felt euphoria reach you before you knew it, and you cried out, gripping his hair, pulling it as he fucked you. His face pained, his teeth barred, his eyes shut tight. Just his expression—his appearance—could've made you come on the spot.

You felt tingles in your fingers, and your toes, and saw stars in your vision. Black spots fluttered, your heart rate probably much higher than it should be. You didn't care if you died right here, right now. It didn't matter. Nope. This was bliss. So much better than that damn vibrator.

You felt like you were on fire—no, more like a falling, burning star crashing to earth. Your stomach ached at his pressure, your hips aching, your head pounding. You came onto him with haste as your vision blurred, tearing into his shoulder blades, leaving little marks on his skin. At your actions, you witnessed the look of utter satisfaction on the pretty boy’s face, his breaths quickening, shallowing. He let out a whine, just as musical as the keys underneath you.

Before he could come, he pulled out, cumming all over your breasts, your stomach. You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

He stared at you, eyes low, lips swollen and red. So fuckable, so delicious. 

He looked at how he painted you, smirking a bit to himself. He was so full of life, full of emotion. “Let me go grab that towel,” he breathed, his voice crackling a bit. You watched in enjoyment when he walked away from you, watching his ass, his legs, the tattoos move with him.

He returned with the towel, wiping you gently as if he hadn't just made you nearly black out. You gazed at him, not sure what you were feeling, how you were feeling. You could do it all night with him, with this guy who was a stranger only a couple of days before. It wasn't too often that you acted on your desires, but there was no possible way you were supposed to avoid this, avoid him.

When he was done, when you were clean, he set the towel down on the floor, but his eyes didn't leave you. 

“What?” you hummed.

“Just,” he breathed, smiling. “That was really good.”

“I hope so,” you chuckled the feeling of the room lightening, almost in a playful way. “I hope this wasn't your goal all along—you really freaked me out when I hit you.”

He looked down as you jumped off the piano. “Uh, yeah. I bet I did.”

You moved to him, gently reaching to hold his cheeks for him to look at you. “I got you now, huh? No more running in front of cars, unless it's mine. I’ll be prepared next time.”

His eyes widened as if he was shocked by your words. That you knew he did it on purpose. He didn't deny it. He just leaned into your touch, eyes closing tight in comfort.

“Like I said,” you started, giving his lips a little peck. “I’ll look after you, if you’ll allow it.”

He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes, meeting your sincere gaze. His lips curved up. “I’ll look after you, too.”

You smiled along with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, embracing him, feeling even more intimate than sex. He let out a shaky breath, as if finally realizing he wasn't alone, didn't have to be. That he deserved a caring touch, a longing touch, a needy touch. That he could actually have something to himself.

You didn't know what you were to each other, and it really didn't matter. There was no need to label it so specifically. You could be his rock, his personal nurse, the person to stitch him up when he gets hurt. The one he could confide in, have sex with, whatever he needed. Whatever you needed. 

So when he kissed the top of your head while you hugged him, you tightened your arms just a little, holding onto him as long as he’ll let you.

You’ll look after each other.

[edenesth]

The Secret Admirer

Pairing: school rival!San x fem!reader (featuring Wooyoung)

AU: high school au (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 14k

Summary: As a new transfer student in KQ High, you start receiving anonymous love notes and gifts that leave you both intrigued and confused. It becomes a secret admirer mystery at school and everyone has their theories about who it might be. Could it be your crush, Wooyoung, as you'd hoped or the annoying Choi San?

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by ATEEZ's The Real music video. San looked so good here, he's literally unreal.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Mingi let out a sigh filled with anxiety, his gaze fixed on the imposing school building that would be your new home. You pursed your lips, throwing an arm over his shoulder as best you could, your best friend towering over you by at least half a head.

"I'm really scared." He admitted, shoulders sagging under the weight of his apprehension.

In an attempt to ease his tension, you playfully nudged him on the head, "Oh, come on, Mingi. We didn't leave our old school behind just for you to remain scared here. I promise things will be better."

He managed a forced smile, wanting to show strength for your sake.

Your previous school was a nightmare, a toxic environment where bullies ruled the place, and even teachers struggled to maintain order. Wealthy students received special treatment, while the rest of the students became targets of the elite.

Poor Mingi had suffered the worst of it.

He endured relentless bullying that left him with severe anxiety.

As his best friend, you had done everything in your power to protect him, but the odds were stacked against you when you, like him and everyone else, were only from a regular-income family.

In the end, you two suffered together, united by the daily struggle.

You had talked to your parents about the situation, and together with Mingi's parents, they agreed to transfer both of you to a new and more promising school in the neighbourhood.

That's how you found yourselves standing before KQ High.

It was your first day at this new school, and while you were filled with optimism, Mingi still carried the weight of his old fears.

"Hey, no matter what happens, I'll be right here with you, okay?"

His genuine smile finally broke through, and he pulled you into a side hug, "Thanks, buttercup. You're the best."

You smirked and dramatically flipped your hair, "I know. Now, let's get going, dumbass. We can't afford to be late on our first day. Trust me, you don't want to be a laughingstock."

With his laughter accompanying you, you both headed towards the unknown, already feeling a little lighter and more hopeful about the new journey ahead.

Lucky for the two of you, the first period of the day turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant surprise.

As you and Mingi settled into your seats in the classroom, you exchanged a look of amazement. This was already a stark contrast to your previous school, where you had grown accustomed to the oppressive atmosphere of fear and hostility.

Today, however, there were no bullies in sight, and the atmosphere felt refreshingly different.

Everyone in the class greeted you both with polite smiles and warm words of welcome upon your first meeting. It was as if they genuinely cared about their studies and the well-being of their fellow classmates.

The teacher, Mr. Kim, a kind and enthusiastic educator, introduced himself with a cheerful demeanour.

He took the time to get to know each student, making sure to pronounce everyone's names correctly and asking about their interests and aspirations.

It felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the apathetic instructors you had encountered before.

As the class began, you found yourself immersed in the subject matter, something that had rarely happened at your previous school. The other students seemed equally engaged, and there was an air of camaraderie as you all shared your thoughts and ideas.

During a group activity, you and Mingi teamed up with a couple of classmates, who were eager to include you in the discussion. They listened attentively to your input and shared their own insights. It was a stark departure from your past experiences of being isolated and ridiculed.

The minutes passed, and the first period drew to a close.

As you gathered your belongings, Mingi turned to you with a smile that reflected his growing sense of relief and happiness.

"Can you believe this, buttercup?" He whispered, his eyes wide with amazement, "No bullies, no weird stares, just normal people treating us like... well, normal people."

You returned his smile, "I know, Mingi. It's incredible. I think we might have finally found a place where we belong."

Mingi nodded, and together you both left the classroom, carrying a newfound sense of hope and optimism. The journey was just beginning, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were on the right path, surrounded by classmates who were genuinely kind and a school where learning was valued above all else.

But perhaps you might have spoken a little too soon.

In the blink of an eye, a rather intimidating figure appeared before you just as you were making your way to your locker.

The collision was unavoidable, causing the stranger to drop his stack of books. You gasped, immediately bowing multiple times and apologising profusely, not wanting to escalate the situation.

Considering how kind everyone had been so far, you expected this guy to graciously accept your apology.

Oh boy, you couldn't have been more wrong.

Reality proved quite different as he responded with a withering glare, accompanied by a muttered curse under his breath. He then scoffed, "Sheesh, get yourself a pair of glasses if you can't see properly."

Your heart sank, and you could feel your optimism from earlier wavering. It seemed that not everyone was as welcoming as you'd initially thought.

Should've known things were too good to be true.

Not one to back down easily, you rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw in annoyance, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that a rat crawled up your ass and died there, because what the heck, dude? There's no need to be rude, it was clearly just an accident."

Mingi's eyes widened at your audacious response, panicking.

He quickly grabbed your arm and attempted to pull you away, stammering, "N-no, she didn't mean that! We're new here, so she's not familiar with the rules yet. She reacts strangely to shock... ha ha... We'll just be on our way, sir."

You scoffed, tugging your arm stubbornly out of Mingi's grasp, determined to confront this douchebag, who you now knew as Choi San, thanks to his name tag. You huffed in irritation, "Sir? I think not. Stay put, Mingi. I've got this."

San responded with a smirk, his disbelief evident in his expression, "You? What are you going to do, Miss Smarty Pants?"

To your best friend's absolute chagrin, you rolled up your sleeves, sizing the bully up daringly, fully prepared to fight if necessary.

But before you could do or say anything rash, someone stepped in between you and San, "Whoa, whoa, calm down, let's all take a deep breath. There's no need to fight, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."

He turned to you after shooting San a quick glare in warning, "I apologise on behalf of my friend here. He's just having a rough day. I assure you, he's not always like this."

You wished you could respond with collected composure, but you were utterly captivated by the stunning young man who had just intervened. Mingi, sensing the atmosphere, joined you and bowed, "I'm truly sorry as well. She isn't usually like this, I promise."

The guy shook his head warmly, reassuring, "No, please, you have nothing to be sorry for."

While you were momentarily lost in admiration, your best friend took charge of the conversation on your behalf, "I heard you both are new?" The guy inquired, and Mingi nodded, introducing both of you.

He offered a friendly smile, "Oh, it's nice to meet you two. I'm Wooyoung, and this is San. We happen to be the president and vice president of the baseball club. Perhaps you could both come over and take a look once you've settled in."

Finally finding your voice upon hearing this invitation, you enthusiastically chimed in, "We'll definitely be there!"

San couldn't hide his annoyance, clearly vexed by your shift in demeanour due to his best friend's presence. After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Wooyoung, you went separate ways.

As you and Mingi walked home together after school that day, he couldn't help but express his concern.

He shot you a reproachful glance and said, "Seriously, you almost got into a brawl with San back there. You can't just let your temper get the best of you like that."

You took a deep breath, your expression softening as you explained.

"Mingi, I didn't want to fight. I just... I wanted to make sure we don't become targets like we were at our old school. Sometimes, you've got to let people know you're not someone to mess with so they'll leave you alone. It's not about aggression, it's about self-defence."

He sighed, realising your perspective, "I get it, buttercup, but let's try to handle these situations differently, okay? We're in a new place, and maybe things will be different here."

You nodded, understanding his point and promising to exercise more restraint in the future.

Just like your nickname, Mingi named you after the Powerpuff Girl who resembled you the most. While you enjoyed teasing him and playfully referring to him as your princess, you were like his protector; embodying the qualities of a tough hotheaded tomboy, much like the actual Buttercup.

The conversation then took a lighter turn as Mingi began talking about the president of the baseball club, "Did you see the way Wooyoung handled the situation? He's so cool. I hope I can be like him one day."

A dreamy smile crossed your face as you thought of the handsome baseball club president, "Yeah, Wooyoung is something else, isn't he? So confident and composed. It's like he's got this natural charm about him."

Mingi chuckled, catching the starry look in your eyes, "Someone's got a little crush, huh?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was no denying it – there was something undeniably captivating about Wooyoung that had left an impression on both of you.

As you continued your walk home, you wondered what other adventures and encounters awaited you in this new and intriguing chapter of your high school life.

A week had passed since you and Mingi had started attending KQ High, and things were shaping up quite well.

The two of you had managed to make some new friends here and there, and the best part was that you could finally focus on your studies without the looming fear of being bullied.

As you both sat down for lunch in the school courtyard, the sun shining brightly overhead, you felt a sense of contentment. The atmosphere was different here, and it was refreshing to know that you could be yourself without constantly looking over your shoulder.

Mingi took a bite of his sandwich and then turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye, "You know, I've been thinking. We should pay a visit to the baseball club soon."

You grinned, realising where he was heading with this, "I was just about to say that! I mean, Wooyoung and San did seem pretty cool, it wouldn't hurt to check out what the club is all about."

He nodded in agreement, excitement in his voice, "Exactly! We've literally already met the most important people in the club. Wooyoung's the president, and he's so sweet and welcoming. Plus, San's the vice president, he might not be as warm and fuzzy, but he's still part of the team."

You both chuckled at the thought of San's initial grumpy demeanour.

You were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps Wooyoung had been right, perhaps San was just having a bad day.

Your best friend continued, "Besides, I hear the baseball club is pretty popular here. It could be a great way for us to finally get more involved in school activities."

With a determined nod, you replied, "For sure. Let's finish our lunch, and maybe we can swing by the club after classes today. I guess it's about time we step out of our comfort zone and try doing what normal students do for a change."

His eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he agreed, "Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe we'll discover a hidden talent for baseball or make even more friends along the way."

As you both finished your lunch and chatted about your upcoming visit to the baseball club, you felt a sense of excitement for the adventures and friendships that awaited you at KQ High.

The afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky as you and Mingi made your way to the baseball club's practice field. You were both excited to see what the club had to offer and meet more of your new schoolmates.

However, as you approached the field, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, San was there to greet you and Mingi.

You tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, reminding yourself that maybe San had just been having a bad day when you first met him.

As you approached, his expression remained stoic, and he barely acknowledged your presence. He turned to Mingi with a polite nod and said, "Hey, you're Mingi, right? I'm San, the vice president. Nice to meet you."

Mingi smiled and extended his hand, shaking San's, "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you too, San."

You felt a pang of frustration.

San had greeted Mingi with politeness, but when he turned to you, his demeanour shifted completely. He didn't offer a handshake or a smile; instead, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you?"

The blatant hostility in his tone caught you off guard.

You felt your patience wearing thin as you replied, trying to maintain your composure as you gave him your name, "I'm Mingi's friend. We're both new here, and we wanted to check out the baseball club."

His response was a scoff and a dismissive wave of his hand, "Figures."

You exchanged a bewildered look with Mingi, who seemed equally taken aback by San's attitude. It was clear that the vice president had something against you, and it was infuriating to be treated so poorly when you had done nothing to provoke him.

Before the situation could escalate further, you decided to take the high road and simply said, "Well, we'll leave you to it then. Sorry for bothering you."

Mingi nodded in agreement, and you both turned to leave the baseball field, your excitement from earlier now replaced by disappointment and frustration.

You couldn't figure out why San had such a strong dislike for you.

A few days after your rather disheartening encounter with the vice president at the baseball club, you and Mingi were surprised to find Wooyoung approaching you both with a warm smile on his face.

He seemed genuinely apologetic as he began, "Hey, I heard about what happened when you first visited the club. I was away for a meeting that day, and I just wanted to apologise for San's behaviour. He was being unreasonable, and I've spoken to him about it. Sorry about that."

You exchanged a glance with Mingi, your initial tension easing at the club president's friendly demeanour, "No worries," Mingi replied diplomatically, "We understand that everyone has off days."

Wooyoung nodded appreciatively, then made an offer that took you both by surprise, "Well, how about I personally give you a tour of the club and introduce you to the other members? I promise you won't have any trouble with San this time."

You hesitated for a moment, your previous encounter with San still fresh in your mind. But the Wooyoung's sincere offer was hard to resist, and you nodded in agreement.

"Sure, that sounds great. Thank you, Wooyoung."

A few days later, you and Mingi met up with the club president at the baseball field.

He was as charming and friendly as ever, making you feel at ease. As he began to show you around and introduce you to the club members, you were impressed by the teamwork and talent on display.

But your anxiety resurfaced when you noticed San's presence.

Wooyoung had assured you that San would behave civilly, but as the tour continued, it became painfully clear that the club's vice president had no intention of including you in the proceedings.

He interacted with Mingi, offering insights and sharing stories about the club, but he completely disregarded your presence. It was as if you were invisible to him, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider.

You tried your best to remain composed and not let his behaviour get to you, but it was hard to enjoy the tour when you felt so excluded. Wooyoung noticed your discomfort but didn't address it directly, choosing to focus on showing you the positive aspects of the club.

Once the tour ended, you and Mingi thanked Wooyoung for his time and kindness, genuinely appreciating his efforts to make you feel welcome. But the unresolved tension with San lingered in the air, leaving you with mixed feelings about your visit to the baseball club.

After much contemplation, you and Mingi decided not to join any clubs for the time being, and instead, chose to focus on your studies and adapt to your surroundings first.

As the days turned into weeks at KQ High, your relationship with San seemed to evolve from animosity to outright rivalry.

Every interaction with him felt like a challenge, as he continuously sought to get on your nerves. He never missed an opportunity to one-up you, whether it was by bragging about his grades or teasing you for having slightly lower scores.

In the classroom, San always seemed to find a way to sit near you, making snide comments about your work.

If you scored well on a test, he would downplay it, claiming it was just luck. When your grades were slightly lower than his, he would never let you forget it, making sly remarks about your academic abilities.

Despite his childish behaviour, you were irritated by his constant need to compete. It was as if he couldn't stand the thought of you outperforming him in any way. Your rivalry with the vice president of the baseball club became the talk of the school, with classmates often teasing you both for your ongoing battles.

Amidst this rivalry, Wooyoung seemed to sense your frustration.

He became extra caring and attentive, making an effort to balance out his best friend's behaviour. The club president went out of his way to support you in your studies, offering to help you with difficult subjects and encouraging you to join extracurricular activities.

His kindness and understanding provided a stark contrast to San's behaviour, and you appreciated his efforts to make amends for his friend's actions. Wooyoung's friendship became a source of comfort and encouragement during your high school journey, and you found yourself growing closer to him as a result.

As time went on, you realised that despite the challenges posed by San's rivalry, you had a strong support system in Mingi and Wooyoung, who helped you navigate the ups and downs of high school life.

Your determination to succeed and prove yourself only grew stronger, fueled by the competitive spirit ignited by your rivalry with San.

During a brief break between classes, you were walking alongside Mingi, casually complaining about your favourite chocolate milk running out in the school cafeteria. It had become somewhat of a ritual for you to enjoy that chocolatey goodness during your short breaks, and its absence was deeply felt.

"I can't believe they ran out of my favourite milk again," You groaned to Mingi, shaking your head in disappointment, "It's like they always do it right when I need it the most."

Mingi, ever the empathetic friend, sighed in agreement, "I know, right? It's like they have a radar for when you're craving it."

As you approached your locker during the break, you prepared to grab your textbooks for the next class. However, when you opened your locker, you let out a surprised gasp.

Inside your locker, right next to your textbooks, was a carton of your favourite chocolate milk. You blinked in disbelief, your eyes widening, and your heart skipped a beat.

You reached for it and found a note attached.

Mingi's excitement was palpable as he watched your reaction, "What is it? Did someone leave you a surprise?" You pulled out the note and read it aloud, your voice filled with astonishment, "I hope your favourite milk can cheer you up. Enjoy!"

His eyes widened even more, and he couldn't contain his excitement, "Ooh, you have a secret admirer!" He exclaimed, his voice a little too loud for the quiet hallway. Your face flushed with embarrassment as the attention of your fellow students turned towards you.

You stammered, "I-I don't know who it could be."

Mingi grinned mischievously, putting two and two together, "Maybe it's someone from the baseball club, trying to impress you."

The thought had crossed your mind as well, but you couldn't be sure.

As the mystery of your secret admirer hung in the air, you felt a mixture of curiosity and delight. Who could it be that knew about your love for chocolate milk and wanted to make your day a little brighter?

As time passed, the mystery of your secret admirer deepened, and the gestures of affection continued to pour in.

Every day seemed to bring a new surprise, from your favourite snacks and drinks to essential items to get you through the day. The notes that accompanied these gifts grew sweeter by the day, and it was clear that this person knew you extremely well.

One day, you found a note that simply read, "I hope this makes you smile today," along with a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Another time, a cosy scarf appeared in your locker with a note that said, "Stay warm and happy, always."

Your secret admirer seemed to anticipate your needs and desires, brightening your days with their thoughtful gestures. You felt a warm sense of connection with this mysterious person who seemed to know you so intimately.

Unbeknownst to you, your secret admirer had become the talk of the school.

Everyone had their own theories about who it might be, and gossip about the identity of this mysterious person spread like wildfire. Some speculated it was someone from the baseball club, while others believed it could be a classmate who had been secretly watching you from afar.

Throughout all of this, your rivalry with San continued.

He would often tease you about the "silly" gifts you were receiving, making fun of the person who would actually like you. Although his comments annoyed you, they also fueled your determination to uncover the identity of your secret admirer.

On the flip side, your bond with Wooyoung continued to grow stronger. He would occasionally do things that made your heart flutter, like lending you his jacket when you were cold or giving you his umbrella when you forgot to bring yours.

These gestures were so attentive and thoughtful that they set your crush on him into overdrive, something even Mingi wouldn't do.

As the days went by, the secret admirer mystery at school only intensified, and you found yourself torn between trying to solve the puzzle and cherishing the daily surprises that brightened your life.

One afternoon, as you and Mingi sat together in your favourite spot in the school courtyard, the topic of your secret admirer came up once again. Ever the imaginative friend, he threw out a series of wild suggestions, each more unlikely than the last.

"What if it's Seonghwa from the calligraphy club? I mean, you did have that one conversation with him." Mingi proposed, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You rolled your eyes at the idea.

"Oh come on, that's a bit too far-fetched, don't you think? Seonghwa is way too sophisticated to have a crush on me."

Mingi didn't stop there, "Okay, okay, how about Yunho from the biker's club? He did lend you a pen during that exam, after all. Could be a sign."

You couldn't help but chortle at Mingi's wild theories.

"Dude, you're trippin'. Yunho is practically a legend in this school. He's got way better things to do than leave me love notes."

Mingi shrugged, conceding, "Yeah, you're probably right. And then there's Yeosang, the untouchable genius and president of the student council. Maybe he's secretly smitten with you."

You burst into laughter, "Mingi, you're freaking crazy! Yeosang is way out of my league. Besides, why would someone like him be interested in me?"

Mingi finally gave up on his outlandish guesses and turned to you with a smile, "Alright, buttercup. Who do you think it is then?"

You felt your cheeks flush, and you hesitated for a moment before shyly admitting, "Well, if I had to pick, I kind of wish it was Wooyoung," He grinned, nudging you playfully, "Ah, so you've got a soft spot for the baseball club president, huh?"

You blushed even deeper and playfully swatted his arm.

"Don't tease me, it's just a silly crush. I doubt he's the secret admirer anyway," His smile was warm as he ruffled your hair, "You never know, silly. Sometimes, the person you least expect can surprise you."

After your admission about your crush on Wooyoung and Mingi's continuous teasing that lasted for days, the gifts and notes from your secret admirer strangely stopped. It was as if someone had flipped a switch, and your daily bright spots had disappeared. You had grown so accustomed to the surprises that you now felt like everything was going wrong without them.

One day, as you sat in an empty classroom after school, fulfilling your cleaning duty, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment. You missed the small gestures of kindness that had brightened your days.

It was a particularly gloomy afternoon, you couldn't help but mope.

But your already sour mood took a nosedive when the last person you wanted to see made an unexpected appearance in the classroom. San strolled in with an arrogant smirk, clearly relishing the opportunity to get under your skin.

"Aww, still pouting because your secret admirer ditched you?" He taunted, leaning casually against a desk.

You tried to ignore him, focusing on your cleaning duties, but his relentless teasing was beginning to wear on your nerves. He continued to make snide remarks about your admirer, insinuating that you might have been sending the gifts and notes to yourself just to create the illusion that someone would like you.

"Are you sure you didn't send yourself all those things just to make yourself look desirable? I mean, who in their right mind would even like you enough to do all this?"

Each of his words stung like a needle, and you clenched your fists in frustration. You had no idea why your secret admirer had suddenly stopped, but the insinuation that you were faking it only fueled your irritation.

Finally, you couldn't hold back any longer.

Turning to face him, you snapped, "You know, San, not everything revolves around you and your constant need to belittle others. Just because you can't stand the thought of someone being nice to me doesn't mean you have to make up stories to feel better about yourself."

His smirk faltered for a moment as he realised the depth of your anger. You had rarely spoken up to him in such a manner, and it took him by surprise. Before he could respond, you turned away and focused on finishing your cleaning duties.

The emptiness in your heart weighed heavily on you, and you wondered why your secret admirer had disappeared and whether you would ever find out the truth.

As you continued to clean the classroom, feeling down after your encounter with San, you didn't expect anyone else to notice your mood.

But as you were lost in your thoughts, you suddenly heard a familiar voice calling out your name.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You turned to see Wooyoung standing in the doorway, concern evident in his eyes. He had apparently noticed your sombre expression and had come to check on you.

You managed a weak smile, not wanting to burden him with your troubles, "I'm fine, Woo. Just a bit tired, that's all." He didn't seem convinced but respected your response.

Instead, he offered, "Well, how about we grab some ice cream after this? It might help brighten your day." The offer caught you by surprise, and you felt a glimmer of hope. Ice cream sounded like a perfect way to lift your spirits.

You nodded in agreement, "Sure, that sounds nice."

As you walked to the nearby ice cream shop after school, Wooyoung did his best to engage you in conversation, trying to cheer you up. His genuine concern and friendly demeanour made you feel a bit better, but you couldn't shake off the nagging thought about your secret admirer.

Sitting in the ice cream parlour, you stared at him as he talked animatedly about various topics, you wondered if he could be the secret admirer. The thought played like a broken record in your mind.

Part of you wanted to ask him why he had stopped the gifts.

But the logical part of your brain reminded you that it couldn't possibly be Wooyoung. If he were the one behind the thoughtful gestures, he wouldn't be here with you right now, trying to cheer you up in person.

So, you pushed aside your doubts and worries, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment with him. As you savoured the sweet taste of your ice cream, you appreciated his kindness and friendship, even if the mystery of your secret admirer remained unsolved.

After your outing with the baseball club president, you found yourself pondering your feelings and the mystery of your secret admirer even more. The conflicting emotions swirling within you left you feeling confused and unsettled.

Unable to contain your thoughts any longer, you decided to confide in Mingi. As you both sat in his bedroom, you opened up about your feelings regarding Wooyoung and the secret admirer.

"Mingi, I just don't understand," You began, your voice tinged with uncertainty, "I've been so fixated on this secret admirer, but I really like Wooyoung. He's caring, attentive, and he's been there for me. So why do I feel so sad about the gifts and notes stopping?"

Mingi regarded you thoughtfully before gently pointing out.

"It sounds like you're describing two different people. If you like Wooyoung and he's been caring towards you, then shouldn't that be enough? Why does it matter if the secret admirer stopped?"

His words struck a chord, and you realised he was right.

Why were you so bothered by the absence of your secret admirer when you believed it to be Wooyoung all along? Did you secretly wish it were someone else? Had your feelings for Wooyoung not been as strong as you thought?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of your conflicting emotions, "I don't know. Maybe I got carried away with the idea of a secret admirer, it shouldn't diminish what I feel for Wooyoung."

Mingi nodded in understanding, his expression gentle.

"Exactly, buttercup. You don't need a secret admirer to validate your worth or the kindness Wooyoung has shown you. Sometimes, our own expectations and fantasies can cloud our feelings."

Reflecting on Mingi's words, you realised that your fixation on the secret admirer had indeed overshadowed your true feelings for Wooyoung. It was time to appreciate the genuine connection you had with him and let go of the mystery that had consumed your thoughts for so long.

As you decided to let go of the idea of the secret admirer and focus on your budding relationship with Wooyoung, life seemed to return to normal. You enjoyed the time you spent with him, cherishing his caring gestures and the genuine connection you shared.

But one day, as you sat in the school cafeteria with Mingi, you expressed your frustration, "Ugh, can you believe it? They've run out of my favourite chocolate milk again. It's like they do it on purpose."

Mingi sympathetically patted your shoulder, "I know. It's their conspiracy against you, clearly."

After lunch, you returned to your desk in the classroom, expecting another mundane afternoon. But as you opened your bag, you let out a gasp of surprise. There it was, a carton of your beloved chocolate milk, sitting neatly on your desk.

Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the milk, then at you.

"It's happening again!"

You were equally shocked, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

The return of your secret admirer was unexpected, and you wondered who could be behind it. Picking up the carton of milk and examining it, you find a familiar note attached. It simply read, "I thought this might make your day better."

The mystery had resurfaced, and you exchanged puzzled glances with Mingi. It seemed that your secret admirer was back, and you couldn't wait to uncover the truth behind these thoughtful gestures once and for all.

As the days went by, you noticed that Choi San seemed to be everywhere lately.

It was as if he had suddenly taken an interest in your daily activities. He would pop up in unexpected places, finding clever ways to get your attention, though his teasing had taken on a different tone.

His jokes had shifted from being insulting to more lighthearted and harmless. While you still found yourself annoyed by his constant presence, you couldn't deny that his newfound playfulness was less aggravating than before.

Despite your long-standing rivalry and the initial bad impression you had of each other, you noticed that San's behaviour had changed. He was no longer the relentless tormentor but rather someone who seemed to enjoy engaging with you in a teasing, albeit less hostile, manner.

You found yourself in an odd position.

While you didn't exactly hate him as much as you used to, the memories of your first encounters and the rivalry that had defined your relationship still lingered. It was hard to completely let your guard down around him, even though his intentions appeared to have shifted in a more positive direction.

As you navigate this newfound dynamic with San, you wonder if there was more to his change in behaviour. Was it possible that he had also grown tired of the constant rivalry and had decided to take a different approach in your interactions?

The uncertainty only added to the intrigue of the situation, leaving you both baffled and intrigued by his unexpected transformation.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, engrossed in a study session with Wooyoung. The two of you had been diligently working on your assignments and preparing for upcoming exams. The peaceful atmosphere of the library was perfect, and you were grateful for the club president's presence.

But your concentration was disrupted when you noticed San approaching your table. He wore an unhappy expression, and you grumbled in annoyance at his sudden, unwanted presence.

"Hey, Woo," San said with feigned nonchalance, "Mind if I hang out with you guys for a bit?"

Wooyoung, always the peacemaker, smiled and gestured to an empty chair, "Of course, Sannie. Join us. But please, be nice to her."

San acted as if he reluctantly accepted the invitation.

In between your study session, Wooyoung received an urgent phone call that required his immediate attention. He apologised for having to leave and promised to return as soon as he could.

You sighed as Wooyoung left, knowing that you were now alone with San. You asked, "Why are you still here, San? You said you wanted to hang out with Wooyoung," He shrugged, feigning indifference, "Well, I also need to study, you know. Can't be slacking off all the time."

You rolled your eyes, sceptical of his true intentions.

"Fine, whatever. Just don't disturb me."

As you continued to work on your assignments, you came across a particularly challenging math problem that left you frustrated.

San, who had been quietly studying himself, noticed your struggle. Surprisingly, he leaned over and said, "You know, I'm pretty good at math. Need some help?"

You were taken aback by his offer, not expecting such a gesture from someone you had considered your rival for so long. After a moment of hesitation, you reluctantly agreed.

"Okay, fine. Help me with this one."

His explanation turned out to be clear and concise, and you couldn't help but acknowledge that he was indeed skilled in math.

As he helped you in solving the problem, you thought to yourself that maybe he wasn't as unpleasant as you had initially thought. It seemed like he still had the capacity to be a decent person when he chose to be.

The following day, you sat alone in school as the rain poured outside, your chances of staying dry were dwindling rapidly.

Wooyoung was absent, and Mingi had to leave school early for a family emergency, leaving you to face the downpour alone. To make matters worse, you had forgotten your umbrella and raincoat again, a rookie mistake that left you feeling like a complete idiot.

You sighed deeply, hoping against hope that the rain would subside, but it only grew heavier as the minutes passed. After waiting for over an hour, you realised you couldn't stay in school forever.

With a resigned determination, you wrapped your arms around yourself and braced for the inevitable.

Running out into the torrential rain, you were immediately drenched, and your vision blurred as the water streamed down your face. It was a miserable situation, and you cursed your bad luck.

Like the idiot you were, you ended up tripping over something on the ground, scraping your knee painfully on the wet pavement. The pain was sharp, and you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes.

You've got to be kidding me, can this day get any worse?

As you sat there in the pouring rain, nursing your injured knee, a shadow appeared in front of you. An umbrella was unfurled above your drenched body, shielding you from the relentless rain, and a hand was extended toward you.

You looked up in surprise, your vision still blurred by raindrops, and to your astonishment, it was San who stood before you.

The last person you expected to come to your aid.

"Need some help?" He asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between your ingrained rivalry and your need for assistance. But the pain in your knee and the relentless downpour pushed you to accept his help.

You reached out and took his hand, allowing him to help you up from the wet ground.

As you stood under the umbrella he provided, you felt a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief because it was San, of all people, who had come to your rescue in your moment of need.

He walked you to the nearest bus stop, offering some protection against the relentless rain. Surprisingly, he was gentle as he helped you sit down and examine your scraped knee. You instinctively pulled away, insisting that you were fine, but he was undeterred.

He knelt down beside you, a look of genuine concern in his eyes.

The sight of him worrying and caring about you was so foreign that you wondered if this was the same Choi San you had known all along.

"Let me take a look." He said softly, reaching out to inspect your scraped knee.

Reluctantly, you allowed him to examine the injury.

He was surprisingly gentle, his touch careful to avoid causing you any more pain. It was a stark contrast to the way he had treated you in the past, and it left you feeling perplexed.

San reached into his bag and pulled out a bandaid, holding it up for you to see, "I always carry a few of these just in case." He explained.

You watched as he helped you apply the bandaid, his actions careful and considerate. Despite your reservations and the history of animosity between you, there was no denying that his concern was genuine.

Looking at him more closely now, you never fully appreciated how handsome San truly was. His slightly damp hair from the rain, coupled with the intense look of concentration on his face as he tried not to cause you more pain, proved to be more appealing than you had expected.

You couldn't believe this, he was making your heart race.

As he finished applying the bandaid, you wondered who this person was and what he had done to the real Choi San.

The conflicting emotions within you made it clear that things were far from simple, and you found yourself questioning your long-held animosity towards him.

After the unexpected kindness from San during the rainstorm and the way he had treated you lately, you felt confused and conflicted. It was a stark departure from the rivalry and animosity that had defined your relationship for so long.

Seeking some perspective, you decided to talk to Mingi about the vice president's sudden change in attitude. As you both lounged in your favourite spot in the school courtyard, you hesitantly broached the topic.

"Mingi, have you noticed how different San has been lately?" You asked, trying to make sense of your feelings.

Your best friend, ever the optimist, offered a reassuring smile.

"Maybe he's just grown tired of the rivalry too, buttercup. People change, you know? Perhaps he's realised that it's best to act civil and put the past behind us."

While Mingi's words were comforting, you still struggled with your emotions. The disdain you had for San had been ingrained in you for so long that accepting his sudden kindness and change of heart was a challenge.

A small part of you resented him for making you feel this way, for shaking the foundation of your long-held beliefs about him.

It was difficult to let go of the past and embrace the possibility of a different relationship with someone you had considered your rival for so long.

A small part of you worried about the possible evil intentions behind his change. The uncertainty left you feeling torn between your deep-seated animosity and the possibility of a new beginning.

As time went on, you continued to receive more and more endearing gifts from your secret admirer. The notes accompanying these gifts became sweeter with each passing day, and it was clear that this mystery person knew you well.

The thoughtful gestures brought a smile to your face, brightening your days and making you feel cherished.

Oddly enough, the timing of these gifts seemed to align with Wooyoung's actions in a way that left you wondering. Many of the surprises were things that he had observed you enjoying or had casually mentioned in conversation.

As a result, rumours began to circulate among your classmates, and the popular theory was that the baseball club president was your secret admirer.

The idea filled you with hope and a flutter of excitement.

The thought that Wooyoung might be the one behind these gestures made your heart race, and you couldn't help but imagine a future where you could be with him.

However, amid this whirlwind of gifts and speculations, San's behaviour remained an enigma.

He was still working on redeeming himself in your eyes, often intervening whenever you and Wooyoung seemed to get closer. It was as if he couldn't stand the thought of you and his best friend becoming a couple.

His actions left you perplexed.

You wondered what had prompted his newfound determination to change. The more he tried to insert himself into your life, the more it fueled your curiosity about the true nature of his intentions.

As the days passed, you found yourself caught between the allure of the secret admirer's gifts and the complicated dynamics between you, Wooyoung, and San. The mysteries and complexities of your high school life continued to unfold, leaving you in a state of both excitement and confusion.

Today, you were on a school trip to the museum for the history class.

The class was filled with a sense of anticipation and curiosity that seemed to revolve around you and Wooyoung.

Everyone around you, including Mingi, seemed to be paying close attention to your interactions with the baseball club president. It was as if they were fully convinced that he was your secret admirer.

You hadn't exactly been oblivious to the little squeals your classmates would occasionally let out whenever Wooyoung did something sweet, like draping his blazer over you when it was cold or taking his time to patiently explain what you didn't understand as you walked through the exhibit together.

San, on the other hand, trailed behind the crowd with a sour expression.

The vice president of the baseball club disliked the sight of you and his best friend getting so close. The rumours and speculations had reached their peak, and he couldn't hide his frustration.

When the group settled down for lunch at the museum cafe, you found yourself sitting with Wooyoung, Mingi, and a few other members of the baseball club.

San, unfortunately, had no choice but to mix with other classmates since your table was already full.

During the meal, your friends couldn't resist teasing the club president about his attentiveness to you, jokingly asking when he was going to reveal himself as the secret admirer. Wooyoung blushed from the teasing, and you stared at him, curiosity and anticipation building within you.

With a slight smile, Wooyoung bit his lip and locked eyes with you.

"Must I be the secret admirer for you to like me?" He asked, his voice soft but filled with a hint of vulnerability, "What if I tell you, I'm not that person?"

The revelation hung in the air, leaving everyone at the table shocked and speechless. You, in particular, felt overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. You had been so convinced that he was your secret admirer, and now it seemed that the truth was something entirely different.

The mystery had deepened, and you were left wondering who could be behind the thoughtful gifts and gestures that had captured your heart.

As the shock of Wooyoung's revelation settled in, you felt a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts swirling within you. It was a perplexing mix of confusion, disappointment, and self-reflection.

Initially, you had been so convinced that Wooyoung was your secret admirer, and the prospect of that idea had excited you to no end.

But now, faced with the truth that he wasn't the one behind the anonymous gifts and sweet notes, you found yourself questioning why you had been so upset.

You realised that you had allowed your feelings for Wooyoung to become entangled with the idea of him being the secret admirer. It was as if you had equated your affection for him with the mysterious gestures and thoughtfulness of the anonymous person.

In reality, your crush on Wooyoung had been based on his kind actions and his charming personality, not on the deep connection that you thought you had developed because of the secret admirer's gestures.

Deep down, you couldn't deny that you felt a stronger connection to the secret admirer, as it seemed like this person knew you better than anyone else.

The gifts and notes had felt personal as if they were tailored to your likes and preferences. It made you question the authenticity of your feelings for Wooyoung, realising that they might have been built on a more superficial foundation.

As you grappled with these conflicting emotions, you told yourself that your feelings for Wooyoung should be independent and not dependent on what the secret admirer did or didn't do.

Wooyoung was, after all, his own person and your feelings for him should be based on who he was, not on the anonymous acts of kindness that had momentarily clouded your judgement.

After a moment of silence that seemed to weigh heavily on both of you, you could see a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes.

You couldn't let this moment pass without addressing his question.

"I'm sorry, Woo," You began, your voice soft and apologetic, "I do like you, I really do. But I need to find out who the person behind the anonymous gifts and notes is first, it's important to me."

His expression shifted, and he forced a smile, "I understand," He replied, his voice filled with understanding, "Take your time. I'll be here, waiting for your answer."

Mingi, who had been quietly observing the exchange, sensed your discomfort and decided to step in. He offered his gratitude to Wooyoung for taking care of you so far and claimed that he would take over looking out for you after lunch.

The tension in the air seemed to dissipate.

You were grateful for the understanding and support of both Wooyoung and Mingi. It was a complicated situation, but you were determined to unravel the mystery of your secret admirer and figure out where your heart truly belonged.

As the teacher continued explaining the historical artefacts at the museum, you found it increasingly difficult to focus.

Your mind was still trying to digest the fact that Wooyoung was not your secret admirer, and the revelation had left you feeling somewhat distracted.

Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly felt a presence beside you.

It was San, and he couldn't resist teasing you for not paying attention. His playful jab was enough to snap you out of your trance, and he challenged you to a quiz to see who could answer more questions correctly.

At first, you hesitated, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the recent turn of events.

However, his persistence and friendly competitiveness eventually won you over. You accepted his challenge, and together, you both started paying closer attention to the teacher's explanations.

As the quiz progressed, you found yourself engaged and focused, eager to prove your knowledge. San's enthusiasm and determination were contagious, and he pushed you to think critically about the artefacts and their historical significance.

In the end, the quiz ended in a draw, with both of you answering an impressive number of questions correctly.

You were touched by his effort to help you get back on track and stay engaged in the lesson. It was a small gesture, but it made you realise that maybe, just maybe, your rivalry could turn into something different.

The bus ride back to school after the museum trip had ended found you somehow seated in the final row between Wooyoung and San. Mingi couldn't resist throwing you sly glances, wiggling his brows in a playful manner. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics, trying your best to ignore him.

As the journey continued, the rhythmic motion of the bus and the hum of the engine started to lull you to sleep.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and soon enough, your head swayed and landed on Wooyoung's shoulder, causing a few students to let out affectionate coos at the sight.

San, however, had other plans.

He gently moved your head from Wooyoung's shoulder over to his own, a small, smug smile playing on his lips as he watched you unconsciously snuggle closer to him.

Mingi, sitting nearby, widened his eyes at the unexpected turn of events, making a mental note to tell you about this later.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, looked away and focused his gaze out the window, his expression unreadable but clearly upset. It seemed like both San and Wooyoung were having an internal battle between themselves, each trying to win your attention and affection in their own way.

The tension between the two of them simmered beneath the surface, creating an unspoken rivalry that was beginning to take a toll on their friendship.

In the days following the museum trip, Wooyoung seemed to sense your need for some space and gave you a bit of room to sort through your feelings and thoughts.

The revelation that he wasn't your secret admirer had left you somewhat confused, and you found yourself wanting to uncover the mystery more than ever.

Mingi, always full of wild ideas, suggested that it could be San who was behind the anonymous gifts, especially considering his recent drastic change in behaviour toward you.

It wasn't entirely impossible, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.

After all, the gifts had started arriving when you and San were still rivals, and he had even mocked you for receiving them, insinuating that you might be sending them to yourself. The idea that he could be your secret admirer just didn't add up in your mind, and you were adamant that it couldn't be him.

There's no way in hell it could be Choi San.

As you sat alone on the bleachers one day, deep in thought, San suddenly appeared beside you, holding a carton of your favourite chocolate milk.

Your eyes widened in surprise.

The chocolate milk had become a special symbol of your connection with the secret admirer, and it left you wondering how San could possibly know about it.

He offered you the carton with a casual smile, his gaze meeting yours as if he had something important to say. The puzzle pieces in your mind began to shift.

Holy crap, could he be..?

"I found this on your desk, I'm guessing your secret admirer must have left it there." You let out a sigh of relief, realising that, of course, he couldn't have been the one behind this gesture.

He was just being friendly and helpful.

As he settled down beside you, he noticed the contemplative expression on your face and asked, "What's on your mind?"

You wondered when it had all begun, this change in his demeanour towards you. He was treating you so casually, almost like friends, and it left you both intrigued and perplexed.

But you chose not to voice your thoughts out loud, not wanting to risk a quarrel with him.

Instead, you decided to be honest and opened up about your problem with the secret admirer, "It's the thing with my secret admirer... It sucks but it bothers me that it isn't Wooyoung. I just can't figure out why I'm so disappointed by the truth. I guess I just... really wanted it to be him."

To your surprise, San offered you genuine advice.

"If you're disappointed that it's not Wooyoung," He began, "Maybe it's because he's not the one you truly like. Perhaps it's the secret admirer that you really want to be with."

His words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but ponder them. His insights were unexpected, and you found yourself considering whether your feelings for Wooyoung had been based on the wrong foundation all along.

It was a moment of introspection that left you with more questions than answers, but at least now, you had someone to discuss them with.

"Tell you what, I'll help you find out who this mysterious person is."

San's willingness to help you figure out the identity of your secret admirer took you by surprise. After all, it was San who had initially ridiculed you for receiving these anonymous gifts and had even been quite mean about it.

You expressed your genuine astonishment, turning to him with wide eyes, "You're really willing to help me with this?" You asked, still somewhat taken aback by his sudden change of heart.

He looked at you, his expression softening with a touch of guilt.

He admitted, "I shouldn't have said those mean words back then. I didn't mean them, and I wish I could take them back if it were possible."

His sincere apology caught you off guard, and you could see the regret in his eyes. You appreciated his honesty and his willingness to make amends, and you were thankful for his apology.

With San by your side, offering to help uncover the mystery of your secret admirer, you wondered if there was more to him than the rivalry that had defined your relationship until now. It was a surprising turn of events, and you were beginning to see a different side of him—one that left you curious and intrigued.

"Hey, San. Be honest with me, why the sudden change in attitude?"

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you finally mustered the courage to address the elephant in the room.

You observed him closely as you posed the question, watching as he attempted to keep his facial expression neutral. It was clear that he was holding back a lot when he finally answered.

"I guess I just... realised how childish I'd been the whole time," He began, his voice measured, "And I grew tired of all the unnecessary fighting between us. I also should've said this earlier but I... I'm really sorry for the way I've acted in the past, I know I was a complete jerk."

His words seemed plausible, but there was something in his eyes that suggested there might be more to the story. It wasn't entirely the truth, but you chose not to press further, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable.

Instead, you accepted his explanation and appreciated his efforts to change for the better. It was a step towards building a more cordial relationship, and you were willing to see where it would lead.

As he had promised, he diligently assisted you in unravelling the mystery of your secret admirer. Consequently, the two of you ended up spending more time together than initially anticipated, and through this process, you gained a deeper understanding of him.

You came to recognise that when San set his mind to it, he could be just as caring and attentive as Wooyoung.

At this point, you had lost track of how many times he had managed to evoke emotions in you that you had once believed only his best friend could elicit.

The Choi San you now knew was a stark departure from the person you had first encountered, but you had no complaints about the transformation.

It wasn't until that one fateful day that you truly grasped the depth of your feelings for him.

'Hey buttercup, soz I can't walk home with you today. Got a meeting with my project groupmates, I'll see you at dinner tonight.' - Princess Minki💕

As you prepared to leave school, a sigh escaped your lips upon receiving Mingi's text about his meeting with his project groupmates, you resigned yourself to the idea of walking home alone. You didn't want to bother Wooyoung since he had been giving you space lately.

However, to your surprise, when you reached the school gates, you found San standing there, waiting.

You blinked in confusion, "San? Why are you here?"

He smiled, "I'm waiting for you. I saw Mingi leaving with his groupmates, so I thought I'd wait and walk you home."

Your heart did a little flip at his unexpected kindness, "Oh, you really don't have to do that," You said, genuinely touched by his gesture. But he insisted, his tone firm, "I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you while you walked home alone. It's the least I can do."

With a grateful smile, you nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at the realisation that perhaps your relationship with San was slowly evolving into something more.

During your walk home with him, every step seemed to resonate with a sense of closeness that went beyond mere friendship.

The world around you faded into insignificance as he held the umbrella over both of you, sheltering you from the gentle drizzle that had started. The soft pattering of raindrops on the umbrella's surface created a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

His attention to detail was astonishing, like the way he would glance at you out of the corner of his eye when he thought you weren't looking, his gaze filled with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine.

Each shared joke felt like a secret shared between the two of you, a bond that was growing stronger with every laugh.

And when your bag slipped from your shoulder, hitting the ground with a thud, you expected to bend down to pick it up yourself, but before you could react, he had already swooped down to retrieve it for you.

His act of chivalry caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. It was these seemingly insignificant moments that left you questioning the nature of your feelings.

As your steps echoed in rhythm with his, you felt a magnetic pull towards him, and your thoughts began to revolve around this unexpected connection that was steadily blossoming between you two.

Without realising it, your focus gradually shifted entirely to San when you were with him. Unlike with Wooyoung, your thoughts no longer wandered to the mysterious secret admirer.

He had a unique way of capturing your full attention, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn't expected. It was a surprising development that left you in a state of denial about the butterflies he was stirring in your heart.

As you neared your home, engrossed in a conversation with him, you didn't notice the car that swerved dangerously close to the sidewalk. It happened in the blink of an eye, and before you could even react, San sprang into immediate action.

"Watch out!"

In an instant, he had wrapped his arms around you, shielding you from the potential crash.

Time seemed to slow down as you felt his strong, protective embrace. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the world around you blurred into insignificance as you found yourself pressed against his chest.

Once the danger had passed, you slowly pulled away, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

You stared up at San, your eyes wide with a mixture of emotions. At first, you had feared for his safety, but now, as you gazed into his eyes, you felt your heart racing for an entirely different reason.

His eyes locked with yours, so full of emotion that it left you breathless. It was as if he had been so afraid of you being in harm's way, and that depth of concern was something you had never expected.

At that moment, everything seemed to change between you.

The world around you regained its focus, and you realised that you were still standing on the sidewalk, in the arms of the person who had just saved you from potential danger.

It was a powerful, intense moment that left your heart racing and your mind in turmoil as you tried to make sense of the emotions swirling within you.

The next morning, as you walked to school with Mingi, your heart was still racing from the previous day's encounter with San. The memory of his protective embrace and the intense moment that had followed played over and over in your mind.

As you approached the school gates, you scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of San.

It was almost as if your subconscious was seeking out his presence. And then, like a scene from a movie, you spotted him coming your way from the opposite direction.

Your breath caught in your throat as he drew closer, a warm smile spreading across his face, "Good morning." He greeted you, his voice friendly and genuine.

"Morning." You managed to reply, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

San continued on his way, walking alongside Wooyoung, who had been right beside him the entire time. It was at that moment that you realised something shocking: you hadn't even noticed Wooyoung's presence until now.

The realisation hit you like a truck.

It wasn't Wooyoung who had occupied your thoughts, even when he was right next to San. It was San himself who had captured your attention, making you question your feelings and priorities.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it all started, but the vice president of the baseball club had somehow become a constant presence in your thoughts. And you had lost track of how many times your heart had fluttered just from catching a glimpse of him.

Almost everything seemed to trigger thoughts of San, and you now realise that these were reactions even Wooyoung couldn't elicit from you during the time you were crushing on him.

Mingi observed you quietly, having heard about what had happened with San the previous day.

He chose to remain silent, knowing that you needed time and space to process your thoughts and emotions. As your best friend, he wanted you to find clarity in your feelings, whatever they may be.

As you entered the classroom with Mingi, your eyes were immediately drawn to your desk, where your favourite chocolate milk sat, accompanied by the usual heartfelt note.

But this time, the note held a surprise.

It didn't contain the usual sweet message; instead, it instructed you to meet up on the rooftop during lunch break.

Your heart raced as you read the note, your eyes widening in astonishment. Your secret admirer was finally revealing themselves, taking the first step towards unveiling their identity.

You couldn't believe it was happening, and a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness coursed through you.

Showing the note to Mingi, you both exchanged wide-eyed glances, realising that the moment you had been waiting for had finally arrived.

It should have filled you with happiness, but deep down, a conflicted feeling gnawed at your heart. You couldn't believe that, despite all your initial reluctance, you found yourself secretly wishing that your secret admirer would turn out to be San.

Everything about him screamed that he couldn't possibly be the one behind the anonymous gifts and sweet notes.

But as determination welled up within you, you considered the possibility of rejecting your secret admirer, someone you had admired from a distance, in favour of someone you had never imagined having feelings for; San.

The thought left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions as you prepared for the lunchtime rendezvous on the rooftop, unsure of what lay ahead.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur, you hadn't even the slightest clue what Mr. Kim had taught you all in class.

"You can do this, buttercup!"

Mingi encourages, pulling you in for a quick hug before he pushes you towards the staircase leading up to the school rooftop.

Anxiety gripped your heart as you made your way up to the rooftop, each step echoing your pounding heartbeat. You couldn't believe the moment had finally arrived to meet the person who had been behind all the gifts and notes that had brightened your days for the past few months.

Your mind raced with questions, doubts, and a flutter of hope.

As you reached the rooftop door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and you could hardly contain the whirlwind of emotions churning inside you.

Your heart nearly stopped when you stepped onto the rooftop, your eyes falling upon the back of a familiar figure.

A sense of suspense hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't bring yourself to move or speak just yet. The person slowly turned around, and as their face came into view, your heart sank.

It was... Wooyoung.

Your disappointment was palpable as you uttered, "Oh, it's you," in a tone that betrayed your shattered expectations. You couldn't control your reaction, and it hurt to know that it wasn't the person you had secretly hoped for.

Unfortunately for you, Wooyoung had seen your reaction clearly.

He smiled sadly, a mixture of understanding and acceptance in his eyes. He had come here not to reveal himself as your secret admirer but to confirm that you didn't return his feelings so that he could finally move on.

Realising that you had hurt him with your reaction, you immediately apologised, "God, I'm so sorry, Woo. I didn't mean to sound disappointed."

Wooyoung's smile remained gentle as he reassured you, "It's fine, really. I understand."

He took a step closer to you and spoke softly, "But I think you should know that I'm not the one who has been sending you those gifts and notes."

Confusion and curiosity washed over you as you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest, "Then who is it?" You asked, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

Wooyoung smiled once more, but this time, his gaze drifted past you, "Your secret admirer is standing right behind you."

Your heart raced as you turned around slowly, each second feeling like an eternity as you wished desperately for it to be the person you'd come to secretly hope for.

Suspense hung in the air, almost suffocating, as you finally set your eyes on the figure standing there.

And then, you saw him.

Choi San.

Your heart soared at the sight of him, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands. His smile was so sweet that it melted your heart, and you couldn't believe the person you had once despised could be your secret admirer.

Wooyoung, having fulfilled his own purpose, discreetly left you two alone for some privacy.

San walked up to you slowly, a playful "surprise" escaping his lips as he presented the bouquet to you. You accepted it shyly, your fingers brushing against the delicate petals, but you couldn't help the flood of questions that overwhelmed your mind.

Sitting together on the bench on the rooftop, you looked at him with a mixture of astonishment and confusion, "Is this some kind of prank?" You asked cautiously, your guard still up despite the sincerity in his eyes.

He shook his head gently, his gaze unwavering, "No, I promise you, this is not a prank," He assured you softly, his eyes locked with yours, "It really has been me all this time."

A wave of disbelief washed over you.

The person who had once been your rival, who had teased and challenged you relentlessly, was the same person who had been secretly showing you kindness and affection.

The contrast was staggering.

As you looked into his eyes, you couldn't believe how you had misunderstood him for so long, and why he had chosen to hide his true feelings behind the guise of a secret admirer.

There were so many questions, but one thing was clear: your perception of Choi San was about to change in ways you couldn't have imagined.

It was time to clear the air, to understand the mystery behind the secret admirer you had come to appreciate and admire, "Okay," You began, your voice tinged with scepticism, "You need to explain everything, from the beginning. How did this all start?"

San sighed, his eyes focused on the ground for a moment before meeting yours with a hint of regret.

"I guess it all started on that first day," He confessed, "It's true that I was having a really bad day when you bumped into me, I was actually going to apologise for being rude. But then you responded with so much feistiness that it intrigued me. I've never met a girl as gutsy as you, and I found it... attractive."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Wait, you found it attractive when I fought back?"

He chuckled, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

"Yeah, I did. I was disappointed when you didn't react the way I expected during your first visit to the baseball club. I thought you'd fight back, but you left so timidly. So, I decided to ignore you the next time I saw you, hoping it would get a reaction out of you."

Your mind was reeling from this revelation.

The rivalry between you two had been initiated because he enjoyed seeing you argue back. It was a strange reason, but it explained a lot about his behaviour.

"So, you admired me because of our arguments?"

He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yes, I admired your spirit and intelligence. But I also realised I couldn't express my admiration openly because of our rivalry. So, I chose to become your secret admirer."

You laughed at the irony of it all, "Wow, this is so unexpected. I thought you just enjoyed tormenting me," He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Well, that was part of it. But there's more to it than just that."

As you continued to talk, you realised that the person you had once viewed as your rival had harboured feelings of admiration and attraction towards you all along.

San shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his expression more serious now, "There's... something else too." He began, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of flowers you held.

Your curiosity was piqued once again, "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I... I know I stopped leaving you the notes and gifts at some point." You immediately knew what he was referring to, remembering how upset you had been.

He glanced at you, his eyes filled with a hint of remorse, "It was around the time I overheard Mingi teasing you about your crush on Wooyoung. It saddened me because I thought maybe it was time for you to focus on being with him."

You furrowed your brow, surprised by this revelation, "You stopped because of that?"

He nodded, his expression conflicted, "Yes. I didn't want to stand in the way of you and Wooyoung, especially since he's my best friend."

His lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile, "And that's where I messed up. I thought it was a selfless act, but then I saw how upset you were at the absence of the gifts, and I decided to tease you about it. I wanted to see your reaction, and that's when I realised I really hurt your feelings."

Your eyes widened as you recalled that particular encounter, "I was genuinely angry that day," He nodded, his gaze downcast, "I deserved it. I realised that's not how you treat someone you like."

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession sinking in. It all made sense now, that was the point when he had suddenly started being nicer to you.

It was clear that San had been struggling with his feelings and the situation had become even more complicated when he saw you growing closer to Wooyoung, just like everyone else, believing he was your secret admirer.

The jealousy he had felt was something he hadn't expected.

"But... why didn't you just talk to me about your feelings?" You finally asked, your voice soft. He sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I guess I was scared. Scared that if I revealed everything, I might lose our friendship, and I couldn't bear the thought of that."

You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "San, you don't have to be scared anymore. We can figure this out together."

He looked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and gratitude, "Thank you for understanding."

With your newfound understanding, you both continued your conversation, unravelling the complexities of your relationship and the unexpected twists and turns that had brought you to this moment.

The rooftop seemed to hold its breath as you absorbed all that San had shared with you.

The weight of the past few months, the ups and downs, the misunderstandings, and the revelations hung in the air. It was as though a puzzle had finally been pieced together, and you could see the bigger picture clearly now.

As you took a deep breath, you noticed that San was fidgeting, his gaze shifting between your eyes and the ground. There was something he needed to say or do, and the anticipation gnawed at you.

Finally, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer.

"San," You began gently, "Is there something else on your mind?"

He looked up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of nervousness and determination. His voice was a bit shaky as he spoke, "Actually, there's one more thing I need to ask."

Your heart raced as you waited for him to continue, wondering what else could possibly be left unsaid after everything you'd discussed.

With a deep breath, he scooted closer to you, his eyes locking onto yours, "I've liked you for a long time now, and I've realised that I don't want to hide it anymore. I want to be with you. So, um... Would you be willing to be my girlfriend?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.

This was the moment you had never expected but secretly hoped for. You looked into his earnest eyes, and a warmth spread through you, washing away any lingering doubts or hesitations.

A smile broke across your face, and it was filled with genuine happiness, "Yes, San. I'd love to be your girlfriend."

His expression shifted from nervousness to pure joy, a radiant smile matching yours. He reached for your hand, and you willingly entwined your fingers with his, sealing the moment.

It felt as though the weight of all the misunderstandings, rivalry, and secrets had been lifted, leaving behind a newfound connection and the promise of something beautiful between you and Choi San.

As your hands remained entwined and the smile lingered on your faces, he felt a surge of happiness and anticipation. The rooftop, once a place filled with secrets and uncertainties, was now a witness to the beginning of something new.

He leaned in closer, his heart pounding louder with each inch he closed. The moment felt right, and he was ready to kiss you, to seal this new chapter between you two. But just as he was about to close the gap, you suddenly asked another question, pulling him back from the brink of that sweet, anticipated moment.

"Wait," You said with a curious expression, "So, Wooyoung knew about you being my secret admirer this whole time?"

San blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected interruption. He chuckled at your inquisitiveness, "Well," He began, "Not exactly. He found out on the day of the school trip when my jealousy got the best of me."

You chuckled along with him, realising how strange and tangled the web of emotions and secrets had become. He continued, "We decided to have a fair competition from then on, letting you be the one to choose who you liked more."

Your laughter filled the rooftop as you shook your head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all, "I can't believe all this drama happened behind the scenes."

He grinned, his thumb gently caressing your hand, "Life's full of surprises. But hey, at least it all worked out in the end."

With that, he leaned in once more, and this time, there were no more interruptions. Your lips met, sealing your newfound relationship with a sweet and memorable kiss.

On that rooftop, amidst the laughter and revelations, you and San found the beginning of something beautiful, free from rivalry and filled with the promise of love.

As the days turned into weeks, your relationship with San blossomed, and soon enough, you became the talk of the school.

The first time the students saw you both showing up hand in hand, they gasped in disbelief. Whispers and surprised glances followed your every move. But the attention didn't faze you or San; you were too wrapped up in each other to care.

San became a constant presence in your life.

He'd walk you to your first-period class, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips before heading to his own. During lunch breaks, he'd wait for you patiently, and you'd share meals and laughter with Mingi, whose perpetual presence as the third wheel now felt like an integral part of your daily life.

Wooyoung, once a central figure in your life, gracefully accepted your rejection. He moved on, finding happiness elsewhere, and he was genuinely happy for you and his best friend.

The baseball club's dynamics might have shifted slightly, but it remained as strong as ever, with you visiting occasionally to watch their practices and games.

Your relationship with San brought not only love but also newfound friendships.

San and Mingi grew exceptionally close, despite your boyfriend's initial annoyance at your best friend's constant presence. The two eventually bonded over their shared affection for you and their mutual admiration for each other.

With each passing day, your connection with San deepened, and you found yourself falling in love with him more and more. The days of rivalry were long behind you, replaced by a sweet romance that left you both feeling fortunate to have found each other.

On a bright, sunny afternoon, you and your boyfriend found yourselves on the school rooftop, enjoying a cute little picnic date. The rooftop had become your special spot, a place where you could escape the hustle and bustle of school life and just be together.

As you laid out a checkered blanket, he couldn't resist stealing a sweet kiss from your lips. Your laughter filled the air, and you playfully pushed him away before retreating into his warm embrace.

His fingers gently traced patterns on your arm as he gazed into your eyes, a look of pure adoration on his face.

San, his eyes soft and contemplative, looked out over the campus below before turning his gaze toward you, "You know, I've been thinking... Would you have liked me if I hadn't riled you up so much when we first met?"

Your smile widened as you considered his question.

It was true; your initial encounters with San were filled with endless banter and rivalry. But as you thought back on those moments, you realised something profound.

"Ooh, that's an interesting question. Honestly, a part of me is glad you did. It made your presence known, and, well, quite impactful," He smirked, "Impactful, huh? So, you miss those days of constant teasing and rivalry?"

Your heart skipped a beat as you weighed your response carefully.

The truth was, while those early days had been filled with challenges and unknowing sparks flying between you two, you wouldn't trade the bond you now shared for anything else.

Shaking your head, you responded, "Not at all! I much prefer the sweet boyfriend you are now."

His eyes sparkled with affection as he inched closer to you. He couldn't resist the warmth of your words and the love that radiated from your gaze. Tenderly, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"God, I love you so much." He whispered against your lips.

Your heart swelled with happiness, and in that intimate rooftop setting, your love was sealed with a sweet, lingering kiss.

But just as the romantic atmosphere began to envelop you both, a loud groan interrupted your moment, "Jesus Christ! Get a room, you two! We're in school, for Pete's sake!"

You rolled your eyes and snapped your head up to see your best friend standing at the entrance to the rooftop, grinning mischievously despite the complaints as he approached with a familiar carton of your favourite chocolate milk in hand.

"Surprise!" Mingi announced, offering you the coveted treat, "I thought you might want this."

You laughed as you accepted the milk, realising that even on your private date, Mingi managed to insert himself into the picture. It was one of those quirks that made your friendship all the more special.

With the three of you now lounging on the rooftop, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and newfound love, Mingi couldn't help but reflect on how drastically things had changed.

He spoke with a playful tone, "You know, it's kind of funny. You two were literally at each other's throats for as long as I can remember. And now, look at you, all in love with each other."

You and San shared a fond look, both realising that sometimes, the most unexpected journeys lead to the most beautiful destinations. As you cuddled close, basking in the joy of the present moment, you knew that your love story was a testament to the power of change, friendship, and the unexpected.

Your love story had its share of twists and turns, but in the end, it was a tale of two hearts finding their way to each other, against all odds.

Well damn, this turned out slightly longer than I'd planned.

Anyway, hope y'all liked this! Thank you for reading and as always, I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the story so feel free to leave as many replies as you want! <3

Also, do let me know if you wish to be added to the permanent tag list for all my works (or if you wish to be removed, I'd understand).

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[jaehunnyy]

Fight club

Genre: enemies-to-lovers, brother's best friend!au, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: boxing-manager!Wooyoung x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions and a few descriptions of fights, fighting settings, mentions of blood, hits, rude people, swear words, mentions of making out, pet names, kisses, allusions to some lines from the actual movie Fight Club and to Bouncy lyrics, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @cromerteez, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @heesnovia

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

The white, wadded clouds were threatening to cover the ground in sad tears of rain as you were wandering around the strange city you were in, all because of his love for traveling. Your car's engine decided to give up in the middle of the street and there you were, looking for anything that would serve as a roof under your head for the night, until he gave you a sign. Suddenly, your eyes started to beam as you saw a rundown ‘Mtel’ sign, written in red neon lights (one letter obviously missing), one that happened to have a car service on the first floor. You ran there as fast as you could, fearing that it was gonna close or something; and as soon as you got in front of it, you started to wonder if you were in the right place. Two guys were trying to make their parrot talk or something, a few french keys and other tools scattered around the floor as they seemed to be occupied with their pet.

"Uhm… hello?" you dared to talk and get their attention, having two pairs of eyes analyzing you. "My car broke down… and you seem to work with these things so… mind helping me?"

The look they gave each other really had you confused—they were almost surprised with your request.

"Okay, I see how it i—"

"No! We can help, of course. We just… wondered how many other cars we have to repair, you know?" The taller one said, not-so-gently nudging the other one as if he wanted him to support his words.

The younger one jumped a little, smiling weakly as he nodded. "We got it!"

You still couldn't figure if they were honest or not, but you just went with it and let them handle your car as you went to the receptionist to book a room.

The morning came with fast steps as you woke up due to some noisy sounds from outside, disturbing your already not-so-great sleep. You yawned and looked outside the window, seeing how the two mysterious guys were carrying things in their garage. They were getting more and more suspicious, so you grabbed your jacket and went downstairs to see the process. Your car seemed to be intact, they actually put some effort into changing the color of it too into a matte one, which you weren't opposing to at all.

"Is it done yet?"

They looked at you, both trying to cover the car as much as they could as you were approaching it.

"No! Don't touch it! Go eat and then you can come see it." the one with the purple highlights said once again. "Oh, and we're Jongho and Yunho, by the way." He said, a gummy smile taking over his face as you nodded softly and introduced yourself.

As soon as you left the room, they sighed.

"We're screwed. We are supposed to be undercover policemen, not mechanical engineers!" Jongho scolded Yunho, as the oldest sighed softly.

"Then go and tell her this! I actually think we even did a great job… Even our parrot agrees."

"We'll see about that. And let’s hope she doesn’t call the police on us!"

Said and done. You came from the little diner, looking at your now covered car. It seemed promising.

"Tadaaaaa! Here is your car, fresh and new." Yunho said, taking the sheet off of your shiny car.

"Thank you so much guys! Money won't thank you enough for that." you went and excitedly opened the car's door, only for something heavy to drag you down slowly—it was the car's door.

"...I guess no money for us," Jongho said, head down in shame as he couldn't look you in the eyes. "I told you, stupid."

You were still in shock as the door was now standing on the ground, looking at the two boys. "Mind telling me what’s this about?"

"This… is not our job, Y/n, we're sorry for lying to you." Yunho said, trying to reach for you but you went outside, leaving them to wallow in self pity.

This was all because of your stupid companion, one that wasn’t even accompanying you right now, when you needed him the most. You threw your hair back in frustration, going around the busy streets you didn’t even know. It kept getting darker, and the few houses you saw were not giving you any comfort. You were in trouble, in a run down neighborhood you wouldn't even dream of. A blue-haired guy showed up at some point, and as crazy as you must have looked, you followed him into an alley. When you saw him suspiciously entering a back door; you rushed inside just before it could close. The inside was lit by some yellow lights and you swore you could hear loud cheers coming from the basement. You went to the first door you saw and opened it, forgetting about the personal space for just a while, until you saw a long-haired brunette surrounded by money. Oh, and having a rolled-up bill between his teeth. If you weren't in need of help, you would exit the door as fast as you entered it. Feeling that someone was staring at him, he looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow when he saw your unfamiliar face, putting the money in the bag and hiding it under his desk as fast as he could.

"Robbery?" he asked, eyes continuously on the money bag you were amazed of.

"Listen, dude. I'm lost in this hell of a district, my car is screwed by two liars and I just want to find a way back and go home. My last intention is to rob you."

He wore an unfazed look on his face, almost like he didn't understand a thing of what you said; he was getting on your nerves more.

"Also, what kind of people ask someone if they are gonna rob them? And how the fuck do you have so much money?"

He smirked as soon as you mentioned the money—if you looked close enough, you could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes.

"If you wanna know how, I can show you right now. Follow me."

What did you have to lose? You were already lost in your thoughts, you didn't have the energy to say no—so you followed him. As soon as you got inside the room, you noticed the pleasing decorum, but also the fighting ring in the middle of it. And after you took some time to look around and take in the new surrounding, your eyes met his.

"Sa—"

Before you could even finish anything, he was on the floor, mouth full of blood as your eyes widened, wondering what the fuck he was doing there—the one who made you get lost, the one who brought you there. Before you could speak again, you saw the money guy hurry in San's direction, as he got seated on a chair, an exhausted and hurt look on his face.

"What the fuck got you that distracted? You literally let him hit you!"

"Wooyoung… her… protect her…" he raised his hand weakly, finger pointing to you.

"Ha? Her? You know the mysterious I got lost girl?"

"That girl is my sister, Wooyoung!"

Oh.

"Shhh, calm down. Don't waste your energy. C'mon, drink a bit of water, and go back on the ring." he said, splashing half of the water bottle on your brother's face while trying to look unaffected. I didn't sign up for this, he thought, though there was nothing he could have done—they really needed the money.

The cheers only got louder when San returned to the ring, while you tried to make your way in the crowd, squinting your eyes to see something between the pink hair strands of a tall man in front of you.

"You stole my place." you turned back to face a built man, anger visible on his face as you blocked his view—and stole his place.

Words got stuck in your throat as you swallowed the lump inside of it, anger getting over your senses. "What did you just say?"

"I said that you stole my place and that I expect you to go back!" he raised his voice more and your eyes shut together, your fist ready to throw a punch, before you felt a strong arm dragging you behind them—the brunette again.

“She’s with me." he growled, dragging you next to him as you were worriedly looking at your brother. "You're going to have to win double the amount of money for this, San." he mumbled.

Another hit on the ring and he was completely out of it, the three seconds passing and the bells letting the public know who the winner was—and much to his friend's disappointment, it wasn't San.

"No way. No way this is happening. He lost because of you!" he pointed at you, hitting his chair with his foot until it fell down.

You were already overwhelmed by everything you witnessed, tears beaming at the corners of your eyes as your brother came to the two of you.

"Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go, Wooyoung! For once!" he said, tiredness audible in his voice as his breath was hitched and slow.

"That's my job, San. And you were supposed to help me, help us." All Wooyoung could do after this was frown, before he left the building to go get some air.

You looked at your brother and dragged him somewhere far from the looks of the curious ones, hitting his chest slightly.

"What the fuck are you doing here, San? Is this the traveling you loved? Is that what our parents would have wanted you to become?"

He looked down, avoiding your stare as he couldn't look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me you needed money?! I would have gotten a job to help you!"

That's when his eyes met yours, finally hearing his voice in the two days you've been separated.

"The first rule of Fight Club…" he started, his gaze becoming stern: "… is you don’t talk about Fight Club.”

He genuinely annoyed you.

"And what are you doing here in the first place?"

"I was trying to find a way to cope with everything that happened after my brother left me so he could go fight some random people."

Auch. That hurt worse than a kick, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Y/n… C'mon, you can stay with me from now on."

You didn't want to give in, you couldn’t imagine yourself having to stand Wooyoung's tantrums, yet it was better than wandering alone in an unknown city—so, you did what you thought was right and listened to your brother. And maybe staying so much with him (and his friend you won't talk about), watching his matches, that might have opened new horizons for you. You were now having dinner with them, clearing your voice before letting it be heard.

"You know… I wanna join the Fight Club too." you said softly, waiting for any sort of reaction from them; and there were two different ones—Wooyoung's eyes lit up immediately as he saw more money coming his way, whilst San was looking terrified.

"No."

"Yes!"

They said in unison, glaring at each other.

"I'm not letting her join this, it's dangerous, Woo!"

Wooyoung seemed to absolutely ignore the boy as he smiled at you, the first time you have seen him smiling outside of matches San won.

"I will help you become the best fighter out here. We're starting tomorrow!"

All you could do was smile excitedly as San face-palmed himself.

Said and done. You were already one month into practicing, and Wooyoung kept on finding matches for you, the next one being in two days. You were inside the little space he claimed as your training room, punching the innocent punching bag as you heard the door behind you. You thought it was Wooyoung and smirked, turning to face him and kicking, only for your fist to stop right in front of your brother's face.

"Oh… hey San." you smiled innocently whilst all he could do was sigh.

"If you don't get along with Wooyoung, why do you keep on doing this? I didn't even agree!"

You looked at him, deciding to ignore the judging look he threw your way. "I think I am capable of making my own decisions and I sure as hell don’t need my brother to make them for me."

"Do you think our parents would be proud that their daughter chose this path?"

This time, you snapped.

"Maybe you should have thought about this before choosing it first. You are my only role model, San, what do you expect from me?"

"I'm sorry, babes. If that's what you really want… I promise I will support you. But please take care." he said, arm wrapping around your waist as he dragged you into a hug. You hugged him back, the nice feeling of longing surrounding you—before a fake cough snapped you out of it.

"Sorry to interrupt your brother-sister moment, but you're distracting her."

"So now I can't spend time with my sister?"

"Not when she has a match coming. Also, she's getting as good as you. I won the lottery with you, guys."

You smiled at his praise, though he seemed to have something else in mind.

"I didn't like you at first, you know?" he said, looking directly into your eyes.

"I know, it was mutual." you said, a cheeky grin taking over your face as you waited for his response.

"Don't get too excited, I still don't like you. But I like the money you bring." he winked, watching as San's eyes darkened.

"Wooyoung," he growled, "if you think I'd let you talk to my sister like this, you're wrong. We're not your fucking bank!"

Wooyoung flinched a bit at his friend's words, pulling his glasses on his nose and trying to act unaffected when, in fact, he wasn't. Since you joined, he found himself thinking if he was doing the right thing, if you two thought he used you for money—which San kinda confirmed; but he couldn't let these emotions take over him, so he did what he thought was best—left.

He left and you two didn't see him again. Match time was right there and he was nowhere to be seen; and as much as you wanted to lie and act indifferent about it, you kinda missed his antics, his nag, perhaps you missed him. This was maybe, the reason why as soon as you stepped into the ring, you started to have an uneasy feeling. He wasn't there to support you, to hype you up, and it left you with a bitter taste. Despite this feeling, you still tried your best. Tried to avoid your rival's hits, tried hitting more, and you actually thought you were gonna win. That was until you spotted the pair of ebony-like eyes you waited for, being the last thing you saw before everything turned black.

That wasn't the sight Wooyoung expected to be welcomed with. He forgot about the two police officers behind him, running straight to the ring and following San who jumped inside immediately.

"Stop hitting her! Stop fucking hitting, she passed out!" he shouted, shoving the person off you, just to discover it was exactly the reason why the cops were there.

"Yunho, Jongho, it's him!"

Before he could do anything, San pushed both of them and took you in his arms, running to the infirmary as fast as he could. Yunho and Jongho were fast to catch the guy before he could run away, whilst Wooyoung was quick to follow San, who let you on the bed while waiting for the nurse.

"San!" he said, catching his breath as the eyes of the older one sent ice arrows down his spine.

"Don't you dare get closer to us! She was your responsibility Wooyoung, you were supposed to take care of her!" he said, hands on Wooyoung's shirt as he shaked the younger.

"I know San, I fucking know I fucked up! But her rival… he was following you San, I had to let Jongho and Yunho know that you were in danger… I wanted to protect you two…"

"I don't care about myself, Wooyoung. I only care about her and you failed. You failed us and our trust as well."

Maybe it took some harsh words for Wooyoung to realise that he put you in danger, and that he actually cared about you. About his friend, and unexpectedly, about his friend's sister as well.

"San… I'm sorry, please give me one more chance! I'll be more careful and—"

"She's out of this, Wooyoung. We are out of your damn Fight Club."

Wooyoung looked down, tears beaming at the corners of his eyes as he couldn't blame you. He just wanted to get closer with you, heck, he might have been attracted to you all this time—yet look where ignoring his emotions took him.

"You have my number if you change your mind, San."

And with this, he turned in the opposite direction, preparing to leave again. He wanted to be there when you wake up, he was aware that he distracted you when he came in way too late to your match. He wanted to hold your hand and start being there for you, but San was right. He didn't deserve none of you. His wish for money made him realise what he was truly lacking—love.

"San," you whispered, your weak voice being heard by both boys in the room: "San, you were too harsh… He wanted to protect you…"

Wooyoung's heart swelled a bit at your words, ignoring San's warning and sitting on the bed next to you. Right when your brother wanted to tell him to leave, his best friend was faster.

"I'm sorry I was late to your match, Y/n. I wish I was there for you."

"It's okay, Wooyoung. I wish I did better."

"No, Y/n! I'm proud of you nonetheless. You two are already the best for me."

Seeing Wooyoung hug you made San's anger dissipate into the void, joining as one hand caressed your hair and the other one patted his friend's back softly.

Your bond became even stronger after that day. While you met their friends (the ones who screwed your car) and realised how nice they actually were, your feelings for Wooyoung also grew stronger. You thought it was the same for him. The way his hand would softly brush yours, the random forehead and cheek kisses you were given, they had to mean something. And there you were now, plopped on a blanket as the night sky was shining above you.

"Isn't it pretty?" you asked him, looking at his flawless face and brushing his long hair with your fingers.

"It would have been even prettier if I watched it with my girlfriend."

Your heart remained still.

"Your girlfriend…? Do you have one?"

"Not yet, but I am about to. I know it's been quite of a long ride for us, but I'm deeply in love with you. And I know you feel the same, Yunho told me."

You looked at him flabbergasted, hands stopping on their track as he dragged you on top of him. You didn't know if you should be mad at Yunho, or glad that he eased the situation.

"Pfft, do you really believe Yunho? What if he lied?" you teased, grabbing his cheek softly as he looked at your lips.

"Well, let me figure it out." he said, before his soft lips met yours.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment, smiling a bit when his nose brushed your own.

"Thank you for making me realise that love is more powerful than money, babe." he whispered, "I'm still going to be San's manager. And you are going to help me."

You nodded, pressing a kiss on his chin as you laid your head on his chest.

San's next match was going to be interesting. Ten minutes before it started, yet nor you or Wooyoung were anywhere to be found. He was searching for you with a water bottle in his hand, tank top tight on his chest as his muscles flexed under it.

"Wooyoung? Y/n? Where the fuck are you?"

As he stepped further into the darkened hallway, he heard your giggles and sighed—he was already growing tired of how big of a menace you were as a couple.

"For God's sake, can you stop making out and come watch me? I have a match to win!"

You and Wooyoung could only laugh harder as your brother sighed for the nth time that day, but it soon became a chorus of joyful giggles as he joined you two.

"We're coming!"

[seonghwaddict]

i loved you — park seonghwa

in which there's nothing like dancing at a ball with your greatest enemy... and the man who broke your heart.

rival king!park seonghwa x fem!queen!reader. genre. hurt no comfort, lovers to enemies... to lovers? warnings. death, like a lot of it, major character death, lots of hurt, no comfort, poisoning, weapons, mild gore. wc. 2.1k

lilo's notes. i do not take any responsibility for any mental damages i may have caused (/j). anyways, i'm not really sure why i wrote this but here it is. i was probably influenced by all the shakespeare i've read recently but who knows? i certainly don't :P. thank you to @nebulousbrainsoup for beta reading, love ya babes!! and a small dedication to @a1sh1teruu and @yoonrimin for helping me make up my mind on posting it. love you all!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

listening to. once upon a december, emile pandolfi.

masterlist

You descended the grand staircase, one of your arms linked with the captain of your army. In the warm candlelight of the ballroom, your light blue—nearly white—ball gown seemed to glow. The guests rocked and swayed on the dance floor as others watched from the sidelines, giddy with the euphoric side effects of their drinks. Citizens of both Utopia and Aurora weaved through each other in graceful twirls and dips. It’s been a long time since Aurora saw peace rather than the bloodshed of men and women alike who were willing to die for their kingdom.

Once you reached the floor, you were offered a dance by a nobleman. After nodding a farewell to General Choi San, you joined the young man as you conversed very awkwardly over a slow waltz. Once you finally got away from him, an older duke from someplace you didn’t recognise, a small estate north of Utopia, was at your side in an instant. Stifling a great sigh, you agreed to a single waltz.

As the man spun you around, you caught a glimpse of a familiar black suit. With a polite smile, you excused yourself and curtseyed to the older man. As you glided to the dais set in marble on the other side of the room, your locked eyes with San for a brief moment. Your posture relaxed as you watched your subjects sway to the melody of violins and cellos. A soft smile painted itself onto your elegant features as you felt another presence next to you. It wasn't hard to guess who it was; the distinct vanilla and citrus scent combined with the long shadow of the tall figure cast onto the floor was enough of a tell.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Seonghwa began, hoping you wouldn’t turn to look at him just yet. “About everything.”

“Of course you’re sorry,” you let out a bitter chuckle as if the losses of the people that matter most to you could be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit.

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. You stood beside him like a tree swaying lightly in the breeze of the music. You did not look at him, even as you felt his dark eyes burning into the side of your face. Your face continued to gaze ahead with a solemn expression—the grin that once graced your features was now reduced to oblivion. The young king sucked in a breath and turned back around, watching a servant weave his way through the crowd, offering drinks and biscuits. When the servant passed them, Seonghwa beckoned him over with the raise of his hand. The blond approached them, his posture slightly straighter than it was a minute before. you recognised the man, he had been supporting wounded soldiers as they marched their way out of the forest that served as a natural border between Utopia and Aurora when the war had concluded.

“May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” he asked, bowing his head subtly.

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “A drink would be nice.”

Without hesitation, the servant handed him a clear drink, contained in a long, clear glass. The king of Utopia nodded a thank you and the servant turned away. He was interrupted by the soft voice of his queen.

“Thank you, Yunho,” you said.

Yunho beamed at you before walking off to serve an older man near the dance floor. As the two monarchs stood in silence for another while longer, the male of you two glanced around nervously. He felt eyes on him. You glanced at him once before averting your eyes back to the crowd enjoying themselves on the dance floor. With a start, you turned to the man next to you after feeling him tap your shoulder. He offered you the glass he received from the servant—Yunho, as you had called him. You eyed the drink, then you eyed him. When you finally took it off his hands, he let out a small breath, the smirk that you fell in love with stretching over his lips. Raising the glass to your lips, you took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste that swirled through your mouth.

“I know it won’t fix anything, but may I ask you to join me on the dance floor?” he asked once you finished the drink. He gulped when you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. “To show everyone that we have gotten past our differences?”

For a moment, you contemplated his offer, an uneasy feeling washing over you. You would have to go through with the plan either way; a single dance won’t change your mind. He offered you a hand, his smirk turning into a genuine grin once you accepted it. The brunette led you to the middle of the room. You suppressed a flinch as one of his hands found its way to your waist, but still, you rested your hand on his shoulder as your free hands held each other. You swayed to the melody played by the violins. He spun you around occasionally. He liked the way your hand fit in his, slightly smaller and warmer, but they fit together like the gears of a clock. The song was coming to an end, the crescendos and diminuendos of the climax of the piece had long passed. The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by confused whispers as the lights suddenly went off, leaving everyone in the dark. You let go of Seonghwa, taking a step back to remove you from him completely.

A piercing scream ripped through the air.

Followed by another one coming from the opposite side of the room. Multiple other screams rang out, accompanied by the quick footsteps of anxious guests trying to get out of the room. Slowly, the lights turned back on. You stood from the ground, where you had been inspecting the lifeless body of a man that lay by your feet, blood flowing from his stomach and mouth and pouring onto the marble floor. Seonghwa looked around in horror—half of his Utopian guard was nowhere to be seen while the ones that were there had been pierced by the sabres of Aurora’s soldiers; a dozen guests lay scattered around the room, dead or breathing in dangerously shallow breaths; crimson streaks decorated the floor like an abstract painting made by a four-year-old; your blood-stained hands, trembling ever so slightly. He expected a look of shock on your face, but that’s not what he saw at all. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up with rage, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear or shock on your face as you stared him down. But he saw past it. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely and desperate. Your shoulders heaved with each breath you took.

“So, this is it?” He arched an eyebrow, watching your every move.

You didn’t respond, instead, your hand pushed a piece of fabric from your skirt to the side and pulled out a dagger, frustrated tears beginning to spill down your face. You took a slow step forward. “You killed my lover, what did you expect me to do?”

“Oh, don’t be foolish, dear,” he chuckled, “This won’t fix anything and you know that. You’ll try to attack me, you’ll fail and I’ll leave, unmarked, and be ready to attack by sunrise for going against our treaty. Wasn’t it obvious enough that Utopia has always had a better military than Aurora?”

You stopped right in front of him, close enough to feel his warm breath brushing against your face. “Yeah? And where is that big bad military right now?” you whispered, eyes flickering around his face, surveying his reaction. “I have nothing to lose, anyway. I’ve already lost it all,” You sneered through gritted teeth. “All… because… of you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, looking up with a hint of a smirk. “I’m surprised the poison hasn’t affected you yet. Perhaps I didn’t use enough.”

Your confidence visibly faltered and you stepped back. “What?”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t notice. The drink I gave you, did it look like water? Hate to break it to you, but I paid that servant boy—Yunho, was it?—to replace all the water with thallium. Of course, thallium takes a while to act on the human body, but when consumed in large amounts, it is very lethal and quite quick to act. Your guests should be dropping dead right outside those doors… right… about… now.” At his last words, screams were heard from outside the grand doors of the ballroom, he seemed satisfied with your horrified reaction to this before adding in an amused whisper, “I’m sure your dear boyfriend could tell you all about it.”

With a cry, you lifted your dagger, hyper-aware of the discomfort in your stomach after what you were just told. He dodged your attack while pulling his own dagger out of the inside of his suit and holding it out in front of him. You, on the other hand, could already feel yourself growing weaker with every breath you took, your chest burning as if it were on fire. You stood opposite each other, arms outstretched with daggers clutched tightly in them; each of you pointing them at each other’s throats. He was calm, chin held high with pride and an expressionless face. You had tears brimming your eyes, pushing their limits, face flushed and lips pulled between your teeth for a few seconds.

“I loved you, Seonghwa,” You let out a noise somewhere between laugh and sob. “But all you cared about is power. You wouldn’t know the feeling of being prepared to do anything for that special person, would never experience that– that pure euphoria when you’re in the same room as them. And I could not settle for someone unable to love me back the same way.”

He didn’t say anything so you stepped closer, lowering your dagger. His gaze followed you as you came closer to him, nudging his dagger out of your way and letting his hand fall to his side. You stopped in front of him once more, your big, wet eyes locked with his. You liked his eyes, when you were younger you could’ve sworn you saw whole galaxies in them. A clang rang through the soundless hall as Seonghwa let the dagger go. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb stroking it gently.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, “I had to prove I was a capable leader. My people saw me as a coward for years, I just wanted it to change. But all those years ago, when we hid away under that big oak tree, I was in love with you. I still am in love with you, Y/N.”

Your sobs had once scarred your lips, but that night—before the moon could even join the dark clouds soaring above—you felt the man's kisses that echoed like the final pleas of a collapsing star. For a moment you thought it was ironic, his kisses resembled the electricity of a supernova while his name meant to become a star… though, that’s not the only reason it was ironic. You hesitated for a moment before giving in, but you couldn’t call it off now. Seonghwa let out a gasp and stepped back to look at the blade that had been plunged into his chest, blood already pooling around the knife and soaking through his perfectly tailored clothes. He coughed, blood spurting through his lips before spilling out in a steady stream. You closed your eyes, silent tears dripping down to your chin as you clutched your stomach and fell to the ground. Your breaths became shallow as you lay there, utterly helpless as the effects of poison overcame you.

You felt another body fall to the ground next to you, but like almost two hours before, it didn’t take any guessing to figure out who it was. Your eyelids grew heavy as did your breaths; you couldn’t hold on any longer. Your chest gave a scream of desperation as it struggled for air. But it was too late, your body went limp and cold, and the only thing that stayed warm was the hand that was held firmly by the man you once loved. Soon enough, it too went limp.

network. @cromernet

[koishiro]

𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑶𝒅𝒅𝒔 | Choi San

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : two former high school rivals, now attending the same college, unexpectedly reunite. Football player San is trying to win your heart, but you’re hell-bent on never talking to him again. After many trials and tribulations, will you open your heart?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : jock!san x quiet!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : swearing

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 : this starts off in San’s pov :)

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Complete opposites yet I couldn’t help but be enamoured by you.

Especially now, when the light shining in through the tall windows of the building surrounded you with a glimmer only you could hold, even while stood in the middle of a run down college hallway.

The hallway we stood in, made from yellowing lime bricks, was wide and lined with arched windows that stretch from the ceiling to the worn carpet beneath our feet. There were few people here, only a handful lingering in doorways or sitting atop hard wooden benches built into alcoves in the wall. It feels like a long forgotten hallaway filled with secrets just waiting to be discovered if one should take it upon themselves to explore its hidden depths and abandoned regions of study.

The only modern attributes were the bright blue lockers lining the corridor’s walls and the tall glass cases encasing the college’s trophies.

And then there was you, who looked just like you had in school. Your hair that I used to pull was still long, the large framed glasses that I would hold above your head still enhanced your doe eyes, those freckles that I would stupidly call acne scars decorated your cheeks, and the hatred that continued to lace your eyes.

Except now you wore a nicely fitted suit — the buttons on your shirt were holding on for dear life, your hair brushed behind your ears, pin-striped skirt to your knees, short black heels and holding your books to your chest while the other held what looked to be a briefcase.

I remember overhearing you wanting to study law.

Other than your appearance you hadn’t changed in the slightest and neither had my heart which still raced a mile a minute when I looked into your eyes and saw the mix of emotions there — a combination of anger and confusion, but also curiosity and oddity.

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?” It was expected of me to go on to a scholarship but everyone was left surprised when I’d told them that I’d be staying and going to a community college not too far from the school, you included.

It had been seconds which felt like minutes since you uttered those words, I knew I had to say something as I stood there looking like a complete fool playing with the straps of my bag, so with trembling lips, I spoke,

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨?” I titled my head, voice laced with my usual cockiness - only for you.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭”

That’s all it took for my words to slip out like second nature, “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭”

I hadn’t expected much of a reaction considering you were used to my antics from school where I wouldn’t miss a chance to flirt and fluster you although this time I caught sight of the faint flush on your cheeks causing my grin to widen.

Trying, and failing, to cover your reddened cheeks, you looked at me in annoyance before rolling your eyes where they landed on the books I held “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘚𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩?”

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯’ “ it felt just like before, when we were both back in school, arguing over anything and everything.

How I missed those years. The days when I’d ask you for a pen only to leave teeth marks on the end just to see what reaction you’d give me that day or the times where I’d sit behind you in class and plait your hair without your knowledge only for you to storm your way towards me at the end of the day and scream at me for making you look like an idiot. Even though to me, it made you look prettier, impossibly so.

“𝘗𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪, 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰?” You spat out, venom in your tone as you brushed past me, presumably walking towards your class.

“𝘐’𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶!” I turned my head and raised my voice causing an echo to bounce from the walls. We both knew I meant what I said but for two different reasons. You probably thought I just wanted to get in your pants, oh how wrong you’d be.

The next few weeks went by just like that, with San religiously keeping to his routine of annoying you or in his eyes; flirting.

After all those years of having to put up with his relentless bullying and confusing actions you thought you finally escaped. You thought he’d gone with that scholarship he was offered, anyone would take that chance — it was a free ticket out of this crap neighbourhood.

And now not just was he no longer taking that stupid scholarship but he’d also chosen to attend the exact same college you had — which was your ticket away from him.

He’d take any opportunity to make your life hell with his burning stare, looming figure and overpowering confidence, his head was stuck up his own ass more than half the time, always thinking he could get any girl he wanted with just one compliment — granted, you never physically saw him with any other girl but oh could you imagine and the rumours weren’t much help either.

And to hell if you reject his advances, which in this case — you had, suffering years worth of teasing and hair pulling. Even going as far as to ‘accidentally’ kick a multitude of footballs your way on more than one occasion — it was safe to say you never used that path as a shortcut ever again.

But what made it more infuriating was his inhuman good looks. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn’t. Not when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes that begged for forgiveness, that he didn’t mean what he said.

But it didn’t matter, he’ll never know. You just have to get through 3 years of college and you’ll be free — again.

Although that apparently seems too much to ask for when the Choi San made it a constant habit to follow you around like an attention deprived dog with his constant snarky comments and confusing actions.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your lecture there he was in all his damn glory, Choi San, waiting for you.

He claimed he waited for you so he could walk you to class which baffled you at first but then came the comments. You came to the conclusion that he only followed you to taunt you. Whether that be on your outfit, hair, makeup or attitude that day.

“𝘠/𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱!” When you finally thought you caught a break, your hopes came crashing down once more. San was nowhere to be found when you left the lecture hall and seeing an opportunity, you quickly skipped in the opposite direction hoping you’d somehow avoid him.

Clearly you were given false hope when you saw a dark haired figure barrelling his way through the crowd of students. You probably would’ve looked the other way had he not been screaming your name the entire way.

Maybe if you slowly turned around and faced the lockers he wouldn’t see you.

Another hopeful thought crashing down when you felt the weight of an arm on your shoulder.

“𝘠/𝘯~ 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘩𝘶𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?” San said with a clear pout on his face causing your own to turn away.

“𝘠𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵” that’s all it took for San’s pout to grow deeper, almost making you feel bad.

Almost.

“𝘈𝘩𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦! 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘶𝘩?” The answer was plain and simple, no. You had no intentions of opening your heart, no less to San of all people. Why would you?

Even after the many confessions you received from San, you took them with a pinch of salt, pinning it down to his usual taunting.

Taking my silence as an answer, San continues, “𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵~”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦?” Sure a cat cafe sounded nice and all but with the person I despise the most?

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘰” this almost made me chuckle at the absurdity. Did he honestly think that you two were friends?

Was that what this was to him? Friendly banter?

Turning your head towards him, prepared to reject his ‘kind’ offer when you were faced with those puppy dog eyes of his,

“. . . 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦”

Which led to where you were now, sat in a cafe opposite Choi San surrounded by cats — granted that was the sole purpose of the cafe.

Every detail in the room was meticulously attended to, and every item seemed just so. The furniture had been placed exactly where it needed to be for maximum efficiency and aesthetic beauty, the many shades of pink offsetting each other perfectly while never vying for the same attention from customers. Even the rugs were stylishly arranged in a geometric pattern that made them appear as if they had always belonged there.

Calico kittens scampered across tabletops as others lounged lazily over armchairs, basking in streams of sunlight that shone through wide windows looking out onto city streets below. It was truly an oasis from everyday life.

While San sat with a smile stretched across his cheeks as he swayed side to side with a cat balancing on his lap, you were sat there with a looming cloud over your head and dark expression plastered on your face.

“𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰!” He was practically jumping in his seat with excitement, the poor cat was hanging on for dear life.

Seeing how happy he was, was almost contagious. I nearly let a smile slip at the mix of expressions on his face, it was kind of — cute.

The Cat Cafe was a bright and airy establishment, with high ceilings and tall windows to let in as much natural light as possible. A wall of shelves held toys, treats, and supplies for the cats that roamed freely throughout the cafe. There were cozy couches dotted around where visitors could cuddle up with friendly felines or watch them play from afar. Soft music wafted through the air along with faint smells of coffee brewing behind rigid plexiglass barriers meant to keep both customers and cats safe during their interactions.

The boy, usually so cocksure and self-assured, seemed to have taken a step back into himself. His confident manner had vanished as if someone flipped a switch; his shoulders hunched inward with shyness, and he glanced away from me frequently.

There was something hesitant in the way he spoke now that we were alone – almost like whatever impenetrable armor of arrogance that usually surrounded him had unexpectedly dissolved away in my presence.

“𝘞𝘩𝘺’𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺?” I said, cutting the silence.

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘯𝘰?” How in the world did Choi San come to the conclusion that we were friends?

Baffled, I stared at him for a second or two, “𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸?” This seemed to make San nervous, confusing me even more.

This reminded me of school again, where he would pick on me but then follow it up by pulling out my chair for me or lend me a pencil when I miss-placed mine. Choi San was confusing, that’s for sure.

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. . . 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 — 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺” really?

“𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺?” I voiced out loud, followed by a blank expression.

San just sat there, his eyes locked onto the cat on his lap as he mindlessly twirled it’s fur around his finger and a nervous look on his face, “𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 — 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘥”

We were abruptly jolted out of conversation, as we saw the waitress standing in front of us with our orders – two plates laden with French toast and maple syrup. She carefully placed them on the table between us before giving a polite nod and turning to leave.

As she disappeared from view, I turned my attention back towards my thoughts.

I knew who he was talking about — Kang Yeosang, the perfect schoolboy, or at least as close to perfection as one could get. His grades were exemplary, never less than an A on a report card, and he had mastered every lesson within minutes of it being taught.

But it wasn’t just his intelligence that made him so admired — he was also blessed with the face of a model and stature unlike any other boy in class. Friendly and well liked by all who encountered him, he could do no wrong in anyone’s eyes; even teachers seemed to favor him above others when discussing matters relating to academics or conduct.

That’s what made me like him so much.

I remember San starting a fight with Yeosang — over what I don’t know. But it was big enough to grab nearly the entire school’s attention.

That fight made me hate San even more after Yeosang took it upon himself to avoid me at all costs, as if I had the plague. What could San have told him to cause him to avoid me like that?

Allowing my curiosity to take over, I voiced my thoughts, “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺?”

As if what I said offended him, he quickly whipped his head up, “𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮? 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦”

I could practically see the steam seething from his reddened ears before he continued, “𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮” he grumbled.

San was a walking mass of contradictions—the kind each and every one of us has tucked away somewhere. On the outside there was an air of confidence, but on the inside lay a rich vein of jealous insecurity.

His intense eyes glimmered as he talked about Yeosang, even as his furtive glances betrayed him. There is never comfort in knowing that someone desires what we cannot have; watching San I felt like it had been magnified to its fullest potential for him.

“𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨-“

“𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘐’𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥”

His chocolate-brown eyes were blazing with unspoken emotion, a heat that seemed to penetrate my skin from across the room. His jaw was set firmly in a line of anger and he clenched one hand into an angry fist at his side as if it had suddenly become unbearable for him not to be involved or acknowledged. “𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦”

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦”

It was almost as if he’d been living two lives in parallel; the version I saw and the one of hidden jealousies. Jealousy that he had kept tightly locked away, like a closet full of secrets. Until now. The rage in him seethed with such force it felt sudden yet inevitable, at once both foreign and all too familiar.

His expression was open and vulnerable, like he was afraid to lay himself bare before me.

San’s hand tightened around the cat’s fur which he quickly moved to the drink he had in front of him as if it became all too real, his feelings and emotions now in the open for me to see.

So caught up with my thoughts, I barely caught the whisper that left San’s mouth, “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘠𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦. . .”

The guilt was like a leaden weight on my heart. For once in my life, I felt something other than anger and resentment — remorse for someone who had treated me badly. It felt strange but strangely liberating to accept that he was now sat in front of me, shifting in his seat as he released his pent up anger he kept hidden for all those years.

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺,” San’s head shot up from looking at his mug, clearly surprised by my apology, “𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺”

Now shifting in my own seat , the pounding in my chest was relentless, and with each pulse I felt like it would burst.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 “

If I was told that I’d be sat in a cat cafe in front Choi San while we apologised to each other for all those years, I’d laugh and walk off.

All I could do was stare at him. The Choi San, the star of the football team and my biggest rival, apologising to me.

“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺-“

“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶”

That’s all it took for us to waste what was left of the day talking about anything and everything followed by the occasional apology while we moved to the floor to entertain the cats.

He watched me with an inscrutable expression, his gaze trained on me as if transfixed. It felt strange, almost alien to have him watching like that without any verbal judgements or harsh criticisms accompanying it.

I fiddled with the cats’ ears and nuzzled their heads for a few moments before glancing up at him again; he hadn't moved an inch from his position – still sat next to me studying my movements as if he couldn’t believe this was how we were interacting: civil and non-combative.

He reached forward to stop me from petting the cat, taking my hand firmly in his. Then, gently turning me towards him, he looked deeply into my eyes with an intensity I hadn't felt before and quietly said “I meant what I said before,” his words hung in the air between us like a challenge: An unspoken conversation that needed no further input or explanation; only acknowledgment of something greater than ourselves. “𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶”

“𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘠/𝘕. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵”

© KOISHIRO 2023 do not repost/edit/copy/translate my works.

↳ a/n: idk where I was going with this —

— 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘹𝘰

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[lilhwahwa]

heart swindler - J.WY (Part 2)

PART 1 

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ part 2: After Wooyoung takes you home from the club following a claustrophobic episode, you grow paranoid at the threatening texts sent to you by an anonymous  person. The following week you are extra careful but find the worst of your fears becoming reality. With no one to help you, only a coincidence keeps you and your nephew safe, for now. 

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Female Pronouns Conwoman reader! x Conman Wooyoung! Enemies to Lovers. Angst. Fluff. Smut.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ smut themes in the future parts. Mentions of drug abuse. Abusive parenting. Violence. Bi? Wooyoung? Stalking. Slowburn!. Conning? More to be added... This is fiction and does not represent the real idol. 

proof read? - no

words: 8.1K

tags:  @bl3ss3d-curs3d @mayosgrises @k-queen @starrysvn @harusoraa @chiefbananaearthquake @leeknowsalot @toxicccred @yunhorights​ let me know if you want to be added or removed!

MASTERLIST 

---

To say that the new week started on a fresh note would be a lie. Since receiving the anonymous text message, you found yourself becoming hyperaware of details and people in your surroundings. You glanced over your shoulder when walking Jisung to school in the morning and cringed away from your phone every time it pinged with a message.

You considered letting the matter go. It isn't your first time receiving empty threats from men conned by you or their loyal-to-a-fault wives. Most of those threats were nothing but empty words of anger and frustration. Yet, nobody had ever personally come looking for you, let alone sent you a picture from outside your hotel room. Each passing hour of your days sparked dark thoughts that possessed your brain about strangers breaking into your home or sneaking up on you, or worse, on Jisung. Soon enough it is as if your body went into survival mode, planning safety precautions for any situation and scanning rooms and roads for exit routes.

Your paranoia lead you to the decision that it would be the right time to access your emergency cash stacked away in one of Hongjoong's safety deposit boxes. Stepping into LUX on a weekday felt wrong. The calm atmosphere was nothing compared to what it usually was on a Saturday night. First of all, no people were crowding you. There was a sense of security knowing you could be left alone. This instantly brought you back to the memory of Wooyoung carrying you out of the same place you now stood. You tried to avoid thinking back to that situation, seeing as it only reminded you about the sudden overwhelming anxiety caused by crowds. It is human nature to enjoy your personal space, after all. But of course, you couldn't be promised that freedom when you are a con woman. Your breaths were cut short from your lungs, each inhale followed by a burning blaze of anxiety as it settled like a barbell on your chest. Was it really claustrophobia? You refused to assume or even admit that crowds make you anxious. Your work relied on persuading people and standing out in crowds. So how could it be that you are so afraid of it all? And so suddenly?

“Hey Bullet” Hongjoong greets, taking long strides across the polished marble until you meet halfway on the empty dance floor. The hue of the lights is warm and soft, unlike the strobing effect arranged on them during parties. The whole club felt more like a New Orleans-themed old-fashioned jazz bar, decorated with the occasional strip pole here and there that added to the unique aesthetic blend.

“Hongjoong, thank you for meeting me today.”

“Anything for you. Are you perhaps having a shortage of customers lately?” Hongjoong raises a brow as you round the corner of LUX's bar, slipping into a hidden staff area. You mimic Hongjoong's expression. What did he mean? Had he also noticed the number of clients Wooyoung had been bringing in, or was your luck running so low that Hongjoong managed to take note of your pathetically desperate attempts at talking men up?

“Seeing as you are taking some of your emergency money out, that is” he is quick to add once he notices the distant look on your face.

When you first stumbled into Hongjoong’s club, he encouraged you to put away some emergency money in a safe deposit box storage at the club both for his and your safety. It was a good plan seeing as stashing cash in one place could show itself to be risky. If you were to be robbed, all your savings would disappear instantly. And seeing as you have a contract with Hongjoong, you could only guess the businessman also felt safer knowing his partners left some of their money with him as a deposit and promise they would pay their part of the deal. If not, well, they could kiss their earnings goodbye.

Hongjoong pressed his thumb onto a smooth scanning pad which activated the intelligent technology to validate his fingerprint almost immediately. He unlocked the steel door leading into yet another covert room. The room behind the door held multiple large safety deposit boxes. The only other time you had been in here, was when you left the money behind.

-

Your high heels click against the dark marble floor as you hesitantly navigate towards the bar where Hongjoong had instructed you to wait for him. You had visited some clubs in the city area, but none could compare to LUX. Rumour spread that it was one of the hardest clubs to get into which made it much more desirable. Before you even moved to the city centre, dreaming of getting into a place like LUX was a common theme of conversations among acquaintances at your old clubs.

The place lived up to its expectations. A large sign spelling “LUX” is on display on top of a glass, high-rise building, shining light blue as if it was made out of diamonds which is guaranteed to catch any passerby’s attention both day and night.

After standing in line outside, an exclusive elevator takes you to the 10th floor where a bouncer checks your information again. You wouldn’t blame anybody if they told you it felt like going through security control at an airport, but that’s what made LUX so exclusive.

If the inside of the club could be described in one word, it would surely be prestige. Marble floors shine from being squeaky clean as the many professional lights give the room a warm and alluring red hue. Even during the day, Hongjoong made sure to keep a certain vibe inside of LUX.

The bar catches your attention immediately. For a second you wondered if the bottles of alcohol were floating in thin air but then recognized that they stood on shelves made of thin glass. Behind the bottles, water ran down a marble wall to feign a calm waterfall that was accentuated by colour-changing lights behind it.

“Sorry for my delay, I will be seeing Mr Jung out now.” A voice cut through the room as Hongjoong appeared from behind the bar with a man following behind him. You immediately recognized the man. How could you not after his name spread through hushed whispers of customers and employees at various clubs, including smaller ones you had visited for work? Both men and women shamelessly spoke about wishing to cross paths with him, hoping they would possess unique traits that would stick out to him and make him stay. You were inclined to laugh whenever people deluded themselves with such ideas. Seeing people fall for a man in your industry was not uncommon, they are arguably the best charmers. But, getting them to commit? You would be luckier buying a lottery ticket than ever getting a conman to be yours.

You nod your head at the man politely, wondering if he had been working at LUX for while or if he was just starting. Whatever the answer was, there was no good answer. Having Wooyoung as competition would be hell and for a second you wondered if you should pack your bags and move over to another club.

"This is your new "bullet" you mentioned earlier?" Wooyoung asks, eyeing you from head to toe as if you weren't standing right in front of him. You furrow your brows. What had he heard about you? You clear your throat, hiding the sudden wave of insecurity flushing through you.

"Yes, and she will be quite the star, correct?" Hongjoong sends a reassuring smile your way, making you almost want to childishly stick your tongue out at Wooyoung as Hongjoong shuts his sarcasm down.

"I hope so" you reply silently, not wanting to show any uncertainty, but having Wooyoung stare you down wasn't a straight confident boost either. You would have to work on handling his...quirks.

Wooyoung chuckles, shrugging it off as if there were nothing to worry about. And truly, he did believe that. "Don't forget who your real star is, Kim" Wooyoung smirks, cocking his eyebrow at Hongjoong when the elder turns to look at him. Hongjoong clears his throat as the two share a knowing gaze, and you wonder if there is something deeper between the men that you had missed observing. You awkwardly look around the club as Wooyoung finally makes his exit. Despite the open space around you, he chooses to brush his body against you as he leaves, lips turned up in a cocky smirk as he disappears out of sight.

"See you soon" he called out behind him, and you were unsure if he had meant it for me or for Hongjoong, but you knew both of you would be seeing him around anyway.

--

"You are doing alright though, right darling? Wooyoung isn't giving you a hard time is he?" Hongjoong asks as he walks you over to the elevators. You aren't surprised at mentions of the man, seeing as you work together. But something about Hongjoong's tone made your stomach flip slightly. Why were they so familiar with one another?

"No, we're all good" You plaster a fake smile, yet your thoughts jump to possible scenarios of how Hongjoong got familiar with Wooyoung. From innocent scenarios such as getting introduced by friends to ones where they shared a bed. You weren't sure why you cared that much anyway, it's not like you are in any situation with Wooyoung, but the heavy disappointment still sinks to the bottom of your abdomen. "Well, I'll be going so...thank you for the help" You step into the elevator, eyes meeting Hongjoong's as he carefully looks over you with his usual, calm, expression. His eyes seemed to search for an answer to an unanswered question, but he let it go, for now.

You press your bag close against your side as you walk outside, throwing your arm out to attract the attention of a taxi. You had to get back to the hotel and start looking for other options. Moving places this quickly was not the ideal plan, but seeing as your location had been disclosed, you had no choice.

As you reach the hotel, you pay the driver and scramble your way inside. Your eyes scan the proximity of the lobby for any suspicious individuals, the anxiety brewing in your stomach as an unpleasant chill runs up your spine when your brain flashes unwelcomed violent flashes in front of your eyes. You shake it off and take the elevator up to your floor. Perhaps you had been overthinking it too much. It was already lunchtime and you would have to find a new place, pick up Jisung and go grocery shopping. Going back to LUX at night was an option seeing as any extra cash would be helpful. Yet with the factor that your ankle is still healing and the thought of leaving Jisung alone as you work, the idea was quickly erased.

You open your front door, shuffling inside. The sun was bright and lit up the beautiful wooden furniture of the luxurious hotel room you called home. You put your bag down on the couch before suddenly freezing in your spot. The sun. A shiver runs down your spine at the realisation. You could see the sun. Why would you be able to see the sun if you closed the curtains before leaving? That was one of your many safety precautions. Forgetting something like that was not a possibility.

You turn around to face the door again, an intuitive feeling ushering you to leave the room immediately. You decide to listen and step towards the door but it was too late. You hear it before you see it, the squeak of rubber from shoes against your floor as a pair of arms wrap around your torso, trapping your arms to your sides as you start trashing around.

"Let go!" you cry, heart banging against your ribcage with harsh thumps as the adrenaline inside awakens your fight-or-flight instinct. You trash your head and body side to side, trying anything to loosen the tight grip on you.

"Shut the fuck up" you pick up from the person behind you. Your knees grow weaker as you struggle to stand. As a scream began to leave your mouth, a large palm covered your lips to muffle the sound. Sharp breaths through your nose keep you conscious and you realize the person now only had one hand around you instead of two. This opportunity gives you a momentary advantage as you push yourself forward as if losing balance and manage to hook your ankle around the intruder's leg. With a last burst of energy, you manage to land a hit to the intruder's side with your elbow, sending him off balance. When you feel the slightest relief of pressure on your body, you make a sprint for safety.

With shaky hands and wobbly legs, you manage to unlock the door as the person groans in pain behind you. Yet you never turn to look at whoever it was, deciding that running out to the lobby to find any living person would be the best option, seeing as your floor was empty. You wonder if the pain you inflicted would last long enough for you to escape.

Your chest heaves up and down heavily as your body shakes from adrenaline and shock as the elevator door allows you entrance, fingers repeatedly hitting the button for the first floor. Light thumps and a squeak from sneakers could be heard closing in from the hallway, and for a second, you wondered if you had failed to escape. Surely your luck had come to its lowest. With mere seconds left to spare, a black shadow picks up speed and sprints towards the elevator, but the doors close in the nick of time, separating you from the intruder.

The floor in the elevator seems to swallow your body, feet sinking into the floor as you lean on the railing for support. The muscles in your legs spasm from the adrenaline wearing off as the realization of what had just happened caught up to you. Anxiety seeps through your pores and is distributed to your chest and abdomen, making it harder to take a proper breath. The fears you deemed as stupid and irrational were suddenly very real. You clench your trembling fists, desperately seeking a source of comfort, but your hands are slick with perspiration.

You aren't sure which way to run as the elevator doors part with a soft ping, reaching the lobby The security office is right around the corner outside of the hotel. The receptionist on shift was just a young girl who probably wouldn't hurt a fly. A coffee shop is opened right across the street, surely the intruder wouldn't cause a scene there, right? You look over at the other operating elevator as you sprint out from the one you had taken. Would he still be after you? Maybe he'd give up and-

"Oh you are here, I was going to look for you since you forgot your-" what was that? The voice was so familiar, and as you turn to look, you see that you are coincidentally running into Wooyoung. You couldn't stop your legs from moving, seemingly uncontrollably as you walk straight into his body.

The man who you once wished would disappear from your line of sight, was now suddenly the only beam of hope you held onto. His facial expression changes in a matter of a millisecond, so quickly you manage to miss it. His hands grip your arms to stabilize your body as he watches your eyes hysterically run around the room, chest heaving in obvious panic. What the fuck was going on? "Do you feel unwe-" he starts.

"Please we- please take me away from here-" you manage to push out words on the little air you had left in your burning lungs. You would curse yourself for showing such desperation in front of your proclaimed rival. But tears pricked at your eyes as you realize that if don't leave right away, you may not make it out unharmed, or even alive. A ping of the elevator doors opening sends a shiver down your spine, and your whip your head to check whether the intruder was catching up to you. Wooyoung follows your gaze but finds a family of three exiting the tight compartment.

"What's happ-"

"Please, we have to leave, just- please" You beg breathlessly. Though hesitating for a second, unsure whether to question you now or do as you request, Wooyoung accepts that an explanation could wait. He wraps a protective arm around your waist to support your floppy body and sets course to his car parked by the entrance.  

You couldn't seem to make your legs walk, awkwardly hanging onto Wooyoung as he supported your weight on the walk over to his car. The same car he had taken you home in just last weekend. You sink into the leather seat, eyes on the hotel entrance to see whether the intruder would come out that way. Would you even recognize him? What if it wasn't a man?

Wooyoung snapped you out of your thoughts as he plopped down into the driver's seat. He wasted no time driving off. You were thankful for the silence that settled over you as Wooyoung drove you to a place he deemed safe. You didn't even think to question your location, putting your trust in his hands. As if it was how it was supposed to be. You notice stray raindrops hitting the car window, eyes following the race between the oval shapes. As they disappear from sight, you look up to follow another race and repeat this until the light drizzle, turned into a pour.

Wooyoung's intuition to observe, caught glances of your shaky hand clenching around a tiny bit of your shirt, probably to calm down. He glances over to you staring out the window with a blank expression. Neither of you has said a word since you left. The tension in the car was becoming palpable, and the rain only seemed to amplify it as the drops violently knock against the window of the car.

The silence stretches on, and you begin to feel like it's suffocating you. You fidget in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The rain continues to fall relentlessly and you can feel the tension in your shoulders mounting as you think of what to tell Wooyoung. The truth? A white lie? Your paranoia went as far as to believe he was in on the evil plan at one point.

"Would you like to stop at McDonald's?" he asks as he spots the bright yellow sign through the heavy downpour. He was uncertain why he offered, but since ordering it last, he thought it might cheer you up. Not that he cared to cheer people up for fun, but it slipped out before he could stop to think twice. It came out naturally. Almost as naturally as it was carrying you out of the club in his arms. Or wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you stable.

Yet his words brought on another anxious reminder. Whilst his intentions were pure, he was oblivious that the fast food had been for Jisung and not you. Jisung. He was still in school. Alone and oblivious that the life he had before leaving for school would not be the same again when you pick him up. How would you even pick him up? There was no way you would willingly leave your somewhat safe spot with Wooyoung, but you could not leave Jisung exposed to the intruder. You had to tell Wooyoung. Fuck whatever he would think of you.

"No, but there is somewhere we have to go. Please" you look at him as you speak up, eyes silently begging to not ask further questions. You knew you had asked a lot of him. Hell, he had helped you this past week more than your own family ever had over the span of your life. Wooyoung's eyes met yours, melting into the gaze as thoughts seemingly teleported between your minds. For a long moment, you just stare at each other, neither of you speaking. It's as if words would break the spell that had been cast between you.

Then, Wooyoung reaches for his phone, unlocking it before handing it to you without a glance. You eye him carefully and take the phone into your hands, noticing that the maps application was selected. A warm feeling of relief and gratefulness settles over you as you type the address to Jisung's school without another sound. Wooyoung follows the GPS to the selected location. As stoic as his face seemed, his jaw was tight with worry and theories on what had happened. It had to be something serious for you to end up asking him for help. He wasn't clueless about the dynamic of your relationship if one could even call it one. You so desperately asking him for help already created a picture of what type of situation this could be.

As the car comes to a stop, you realize the overwhelming amount of explaining you were about to do. Both to Jisung but also Wooyoung. The car is as silent as ever as you gather yourself, preparing to step out. Your hands were still shaky, but your heart rate had slowed down, leaving you with a faint weight of where it had banged against your ribs as a reminder.

"Would you like me to go in with you?" Wooyoung breaks the silence, yet his mind was becoming louder with new questions. A school? Why the hell were you at a school? Was this a family matter?

You realize that as much as you'd like to get Jisung by yourself, the little voice in the back of your head reminded you that the intruder could be a psychopath who was now stalking you around the city. Even the rational part of your mind seemed to agree seeing as the break-in you were so paranoid and worried about, did end up happening.

You nod quickly, your body reacting faster than any words leaving your mouth.

"Yes please"

Wooyoung doesn't need to be told twice as he gets out of the car, eyes staying on you as if you'd disappear. He wouldn't call it worry, but something about seeing the pure terror in your eyes as you clung onto his arm desperately sent unpleasant jolts down his spine. He didn't ever want to see that look on your face again. Whatever this behaviour was, it was certainly not something you'd ever seen on Wooyoung before. His seductive and teasing nature would never suggest that a much more stoic and...nurturing character hid inside of him. Of course you didn't expect him to march around in a button-down with his chiselled, toned chest and collarbones all oiled up as he lands all women and men in the ten-mile radius. But you had never seen him calmly cooperating and seemingly sympathetic to your struggle.

The faint smell of cafeteria food lingered in the silent corridors as most classes were in progress after a lunch break. You thankfully remember exactly which room Jisung would be in after lunch and knock on the wooden door. You look behind you to see Wooyoung observing your moves almost like a bodyguard. And frankly, he could become one with how safe you felt. You hear the teacher's voice pause as she opens the door. You recognize the elderly woman with glasses too big for her face as Jisung's English teacher. You had heard stories about her cats and weird obsession with crocheting from Jisung as he begged you to let him skip class early in the morning.

"Hello, I am here to get Jisung. I am afraid I forgot he has a doctor's appointment today that I completely forgot about" You offer your best smile, eyes scanning the room for your nephew. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in as he sits there in one piece, eyes lighting up as he catches a glimpse of you.

The teacher nods and turns to call on Jisung to collect his things. You feel curious eyes linger over you but on a day like today you couldn't give two fucks. Jisung scatters to collect his things, as if being in the classroom for even a second longer would suffocate him.  

"Hey buddy," you say shakily, quickly coughing to cover your nervous tone. Jisung embraces your torso, happily mumbling how he couldn't wait to go home as the teacher shut the door. Although Wooyoung seems stoic, his jaw clenches in shock as he tries to keep his reactions at a minimum. A child?

"Are we going home? Do we have food? The cafeteria had those weird gummy spaghetti again and I didn't eat it..." Jisung whines and turns to leave but soon notices Wooyoung blocking his way. The younger looks up at the man and bows slightly, thinking he was a teacher or somebody here to get their kid.

"Jisung- this is um, my friend Wooyoung. He is kind enough to help me pick you up today and take us-" You start introducing the two but your face drops as you realize you had nowhere to go. The hotel was the last place you'd go, especially alone. You didn't have an apartment and the only place you could think of at the top of your mind was LUX, which is not the right place for a child. "Um-" you struggle, eyes scattering away from Jisung's gaze to think of a lie.

"-To my place for a sleepover. We came to get you earlier so we could go get some food and become closer buddies, you and me. How does that sound?" It is as if something takes over Wooyoung the second he sees the pure confusion on Jisung's face. Hearing you stutter lies to him to keep him oblivious to whatever was happening. It reminded him of his baby brother and how any child should have the right to an innocent childhood, away from the fuck ups of this world. Wooyoung squats down to Jisung's height and holds an open palm for him. "I'm Wooyoung" and as soon as his name is out of his mouth you see the charming smile back on his lips. As if somebody had yelled "action".

The little boy looks back at you, eyes suspicious and if you weren't so worried about your well-being, you'd chuckle at how much he picked up from you. Small quirks and comments from your daily diary. You nod with a small smile, reassuring him it was alright.

"I'm Jisung" he exclaims and places his small hand to drown in Wooyoung's. Even as the older smiles, you don't miss the glance he shoots your way as Jisung happily trots towards the exit.

"We have a lot to talk about" is all Wooyoung says as he follows the younger boy out the door. You freeze in place for a second, watching the scene as if it was the calm before the storm. You take a deep breath and exit the building to catch up to Jisung, who was getting buckled into the backseat by Wooyoung. You did in fact have a lot to talk about.

-

Wooyoung was well off, that was a fact that had engraved itself in your mind since the day you met him. Not that you had any evidence to prove it other than the Prada shirt he'd wear or the van Cleef watch on his wrist. Yet you still find yourself looking around the penthouse apartment in awe. Of course, that jerk had to get a penthouse, he probably even has a playroom to go with it to feed his god complex - is what you would say if you had been here on another occasion, whatever that might be. But having nowhere safe to go and being offered a penthouse really doesn't leave room for complaining.

"This place is huge! Is that Seoul Tower?" Jisung screeches as he runs to look out the tall windows displaying the city. You'd tell him off for his behaviour, but something about seeing him so cluelessly happy calmed your heart. Wooyoung follows the boy, standing behind him to see what he saw. The height difference between them looked almost...adorable? You clear your throat and pick Jisung's backpack off the ground, placing it in the spacious living room.

Wooyoung's interior choices scream rich, modern bad boy protagonist. Whites and blacks along with marble accents. Is he a Christian Grey fanatic?

"Just because you got off school earlier doesn't mean you're free. Get your homework out" you call out to the boy who freezes and almost pretends he doesn't hear you. He'd try that trick but frankly, he's too embarrassed in front of his new buddy Wooyoung. Jisung silently walks over to you and reaches for his backpack. Wooyoung watches the scene with uncertainty. A lot of questions run through his mind, the biggest one surprisingly being your safety.

"Let's go, buddy, the sooner you finish the quicker we'll get to play. You like PlayStation?" Wooyoung palms Jisung's shoulder, patting it in comfort as he shows the younger to the kitchen, which seemed bigger than your old hotel room.

"Set your books here while me and your um..." You catch Wooyoung's eyes, only now realizing he must've thought Jisung was your son all along. You quickly step in.

"Auntie and Wooyoung will just talk about what to eat, get your book out and start okay? I'll come to check your answers soon" You hope Wooyoung catches on but still, you owed him an explanation. Whether it was the full one or a slightly tweaked one.

You didn't need to find an empty room to speak, because merely walking over to the staircase going up to what you assumed were bedrooms, allowed your privacy.

"I owe you an explanation" you speak lowly, unsure of where your confidence had run off to as you couldn't seem to look up at Wooyoung. "Look I don't know how I got tangled up in all of this and why you out of all people involved but I just, I have to say that I-" you struggle to explain, finger locking and squeezing into a palm as your brain seemed to handpick flickers of the attack and of you fainting at the club, flashing them in front of your eyes. 

"Jisung is my nephew. He's been with me since my sister almost killed him and herself" You finally look up at Wooyoung whose face is ever as stoic, but this time you notice that no matter how hard he tried to withhold a reaction, his eyes did not follow. They twitched in worry as they intensely focused on reading every expression associated with your words "I think the guy at the club, who knew my name. I think he's targeting us. He- I was attacked and there is no way I can go back there. I don't even know if I can go outside right now. Fuck- for days I've been paranoid and watching my eyes step but-" the words come out by yourself before you can stop them. And once they start, they don't seem to finish as you go into a frenzy. Your body just couldn't handle it all anymore. Always be responsible for everything in your life, by yourself. Is it really that bad to need support? Even if it was from Wooyoung. What spurred you on more is that he didn't interrupt you. It frustrated you that he didn't act like an asshole even though you needed his help. It all angered you because it would add another problem to your neverending list; you growing fond of him.

Wooyoung reaches out to place his hand on your arm, sort of awkwardly yet so comforting without much effort. You really shouldn't have had a moment of weakness in front of him. For all you know, he could have cameras in his house, recording your breakdown and your secret nephew. Your heartbeat grows quickly as you realize your mistake of ranting and you turn around, as if not seeing him would help you in any way. The familiar cold sweat of panic sweeps over your palms and raises a ring in your ears.

"You were saying?"

"I- I can't stay here. Thank you um, Wooyoung but we can't stay here it was nice of you to offer-" You turn to offer the man a sweet smile but something tells you that this time, the show you put on wasn't close to good enough. And that was enough.

"Calm the fuck down" Wooyoung growls low and sternly, never raising his voice in case Jisung would hear. As much as he wanted to argue in disbelief about what you said when he had offered his home to you and your nephew, keeping you safe and driving you around, something else fueled his argument.

"Don't even try to pretend to be alright or whatever it is you do when you act like some "bullet"” he quotes in the air. "You need help so take it. If I wanted to hurt you, it would've been done ages ago. I'm not that petty and have enough money if you haven't noticed. I chose to help you but now you have to tell me what is going on because I don't have patience for bullshit or whatever crap you're trying to pull right now." And that is the moment you met the real Wooyoung. Not the foxy character at the club. Not even the one who drove you home. It's hard to admit that oftentimes you end up falling for the characters and masks other colleagues put on only to be reminded that they're also real people. This was a serious conversation and fuck, if you really are getting fucked over by him he really is a good actor.

You catch your breath, nodding slowly. Please don't be bad..please don't be bad you silently pray on the inside. You just really needed someone. And if it had to be Wooyoung then so be it.

"I'm being followed. I- I can't trust anybody and you must understand why. I don't have an apartment because moving around is safer. I got a message on my phone threatening me and then...today...when um-" you feel your throat thicken and Wooyoung didn't need further explanation that what you were talking about was the cause for your frightened eyes and desperate grip on him that he couldn't seem to shake off. One he knew too well.

"Breathe, just breathe okay? I know we aren't exactly...best of friends but I don't have intentions of hurting you" he hushes, recognising the rush of panic in your eyes. Those shiny eyes that he'd catch glaring at him from across the bar as he chatted up a client. He wouldn't admit it, but your reactions amused him more than his targets most of the time. The raw look of hatred and hunger for revenge stirred his stomach in exciting ways. When he'd look back and catch you flipping him off when he left with targets was something he even looked forward to. It was never something he took offence to...though maybe he should have.

But instead of the passion, your eyes were wide with terror. They were tired and silently pleaded for help even if your conscious mind didn't mean to make it seem that way. And how could Wooyoung stand watching your eyes become so dull?

"Just- stay here, for Jisung's sake. Figure out what you need and see it as a favour if it makes you feel any better." he finally concludes. Why was he agreeing so easily? A brief moment of silence settles between you. It was tempting but something about this was just too easy. How could one go from barely talking to living together? He is a conman still, and whatever sincerity he might show might just be a planned scheme to mess with you at your most vulnerable.

"Don't overthink it" Wooyoung says and doesn't let you answer as he turns to find Jisung again. Perhaps he didn't want to bruise his ego by becoming so available. Or he just couldn't stand looking into your eyes for a second longer. Whatever it was, it was settled and he has a new task. To help you.

"How does ordering food sound? Maybe we can plan to cook something later instead?" Wooyoung's tone is softer as he addresses Jisung. You hear it from a distance and wonder if he was experienced with kids. If he assumed you were a mother then what if he was...no, now you're reaching for something that isn't true. But why is it that a rock weighs down your chest at the thought of somebody being close enough to Wooyoung to create a family together? You had just stepped foot into his apartment. Apart from him being a con man, there was nothing you knew about him that could increase your attraction to him. Well apart from the physical at least. And if him calming you down from a panic attack and offering his home wasn't enough, seeing him interact with Jisung made it harder to believe all the paranoid lies you made up in your mind about him.

As the day progressed into night, the atmosphere seemed much lighter. You sit comfortably in the corner of Wooyoung's couch as he and Jisung yell over one another, PlayStation controllers in hands as they frantically push the colourful buttons. You were satisfied with just sitting ---there enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Not Before long Jisungs eyes were struggling to stay open. You lock eyes with Wooyoung who seems to have noticed the boy dozing off with the PlayStation controller in his small hands.

"Ji-" you start but Wooyoung raises his hand to stop you from disturbing the younger's sleep. A small smile makes it to your lips at the thoughtfulness Wooyoung displayed. One side of you still reminded you to stay doubtful of his intentions. Sure, he was nice. But this came out of the blue after your little accident at the club. Certainly, people don't change during such a short time frame. You were rivals just a mere week ago.

You stand up as Wooyoung switches the game off. It was a silent agreement to move carefully to not wake Jisung up and as you reach down to pick the sleeping boy up, Wooyoung drives your hands away and instead sweeps the boy into his arms, carrying him over what you assumed was a guest room. The atmosphere that had settled over the apartment was calm and safe. Seeing Jisung in Wooyoung's embrace made your heart skip over a beat as you imagined how this would be if it was routine. No, why would this even be one? You follow Wooyoung through the maze that was his apartment and into a guestroom. He places Jisung on the bed, covering the sleeping boy with a fluffy blanket before nodding towards the door. With silent steps, you make it out of the room without waking Jisung.

"Thank you" your voice is barely a whisper, stuck in your throat from being so silent. You find your way back to the living room but Wooyoung doesn't stop walking, instead walking up the staircase with the expectance that you'd follow.

"If you are showing me to a room you don't have to, I can very well sleep with Jisung-" You stop right in front of a door, one of few existing on the floor.

"You can sleep where you want, but I'm sure sleeping in your clothes wouldn't be too comfortable now would it?" Wooyoung's words are barely heard as he mumbles. He seemed deep in thought about something ever since Jisung went to bed. He doesn't turn to look at you as he opens the lock to his safe space. His room. Judging by how Wooyoung usually would act at the club, his room must see multiple visitors every night. Nobody assumed that on the contrary, it was the only privacy he had left, hidden away from anybody to discover apart from you in this moment.

"Oh yeah- I'm sorry to ask this much of you really- I will bring some of my clothes. Or I'll buy some-" You realize that with the way you're imposing your stay on him and nervously try spit out anything that made sense. "-Only if it's okay that I bring some stuff I mean I don't have to stay here if you don't-"

"Lord, you really can't hold that tongue of yours when you're nervous, have you noticed?" But instead of sounding irritated, Wooyoung's lips are turned up at the corners in a cocky, familiar to you, smirk. "I offered and already told Jisung you'd stay so, take it while I'm being nice" he shrugs, unsure of how to really explain to you that he wanted to help. It's not like he could explain his own sudden interesting in volunteering, not even to himself fully.

For the first time ever you feel a heat settle at the apples of your cheeks, burning as Wooyoung turns around to rummage through his closet. You manage to look around his room. Although clean, it had its own unique messiness that added to or maybe explained Wooyoung's personality. His bed was somewhat made and recent clothes were stacked like a small hill on the back of a chair. Something about it only seems comforting though. It seemed real and like Wooyoung. It was safe. A fresh scent of bergamot and what you assumed was the natural smell of the man lingered in the air, poisoning you deeper into a state of attraction. He looks good, he dresses well, he flirts well and now he smells good too?  

'He's barely above average height' you tell yourself, trying to find excuses that could convince you that this attraction was clouded by loneliness or desperation for something. But even then did your insides not give up their reaction to Wooyoung as he turned around with a shirt and some shorts in his grasp. They weren't folded, but they looked clean.

"Here, wear this for tonight and tomorrow I'll get someone to pick some things up for you and Jisung" he offered, moving closer until he stood in front of you. For someone with average height his magnetic energy sure was large, towering over you as it radiated from him. Especially from his piercing eyes. You hold your breath the second your eyes meet. You can't show him emotions, he'd see right through you and the confusing feelings you had developed for him. If he came just a step closer he would probably hear how your heart had started banging against your ribcage. The hue from a bedstand lamp accentuates the protruding veins on his toned forearms, bobbing whenever his arm tensed up.

For a second, your brain blanks out. Over the years working with men, you had learned to grow accustomed to their looks, affections and flirty ways. It had to be done in order to fully have control over them and complete your job. Whilst there were cases where staying evenminded was difficult, there had never been a case where a man could affect you so deeply just by existing in the same room as you. At some point, there would have to be a man that would successfully slither his way into your heart. Whether it was you growing up or just being a romantic, you knew it was bound to happen. Denying it would be childish. But could it be now? And could it really be with Wooyoung?

"-Unless you want to sleep naked of course" his comment is what brings you back. Wooyoung was now right in front of you. Did you really blank out that hard?

With a scoff, you take the clothes from him but find no strength to move. It's as if one look was enough to keep your body still. You wonder if he feels it too. The tension from the car, the accidental grazes of skin and now this. Blond hair really suits him you think, even more now that his golden skin is glowing so close to you. The urge to lean in and touch him itches at your hands and makes your body tense. As if the only thing that could relax the eager muscles is to finally touch him. You bet his skin is smooth and warm. But the rational voice in your brain reminds you that it would be risky. He could be playing you all along. The reminder of being careful makes your body shift. You look away from him then, scared that if you looked any longer that he'd take control of you. Just like you did to your victims. Just like he did to his. Would it really be that bad though?

"You're doing it again" his voice comes out hoarse, as if he also was struggling within. "You're torturing your brain with unnecessary thoughts". If he was this good at reading you already, what would happen if you stayed with him longer?

There's a long, silent pause.

"How could I not?" you whisper, as if speaking louder would break this moment. You see Wooyoung raise his hand up towards you and in the next moment, its warmth touches the skin of your cheek. Your lips part as breath escapes and you immediately look back at him. Whatever he was thinking about, must've been challenging to overpower. His brows knitted together as his Adam's apple bobs each time he nervously swallows. These were the only indicators giving you hope that maybe he felt something more.

Without saying anything, Wooyoung instead darts his eyes down to watch his thumb soothing circles into your skin. His own skin is slightly rough but it only affected you deeper with every trace. You carefully wrap your hand around his wrist, or at least whatever you could fit into your palm. Without another thought, you press his hand deeper into your cheek, eyes closing to enjoy whatever this moment was. You needed this. He made you feel calm and the past week had been nothing but the opposite. Whatever his intentions were, you decided it would be worth it.

"Look at me," he says lowly, voice thin as if he also feels the need to savour the moment carefully. You open your eyes, reconnecting the gaze and you're unsure if you're dizzy or if he had moved closer but you swore that just one move forward could put your lips onto his. Was this really happening? How could you ever bear seeing him at the club again if you let this happen? With a deep sigh and anxiety rising in your chest, you push his hand away from your cheek, instantly regretting as the warmth disappears.

"I'm tired from today, Wooyoung. I'm going to change and sleep" You force the words out and it's almost obvious by how monotone your voice sounds. Wooyoung clears his throat and looks away from you, nodding slightly to himself as his eyes fixated on a random object in the room.

"Good night, bullet" The nickname coming from him sounded unnatural. You felt like a stranger then and cursed yourself for ruining the moment. But it was for your and Jisung's safety.

"Good night" you whisper and exit his room, gritting your teeth harshly in hopes that it would take tension off your chest. Could you take it back? Turn around and kiss him? Would he accept it if you tried? He was right, you really had a tendency to torture your brain with thoughts.

You change into the clothes he had given you and slide into bed next to a sleeping Jisung, still in his clothes. You don't bother waking him and turn to lay on your side, closing your eyes as you tried focusing on any sound or smell. You blame it on being tired, but slowly reach your hand to bring the fabric of Wooyoung’s shirt up to your nose, inhaling the detergent and the natural smell in his closet. One of the scents that was usually mixed in with his cologne. A small smile spreads over your lips as you play over the fresh memory of him cupping your cheek. He looked at you as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Yet his eyes never held any expectation over you. He never crossed a line and seemed to sense the exact amount of what was needed. And you wanted it more. He is successfully swindling your heart.

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [Jeong Yunho] - Masterlist

By: noonaishere (main blog: symphonyofmars)

Fic type: social media au / traditional

Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: music industry setting, musician/producer, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, running from the past

Warnings: overbearing parents, verbal abuse, sexual harassment

Status: Currently updating

Updates: Thursdays and Fridays at 12pm EST

Synchronously posted with Online/Offline (any asterisked (*) chapters means they’re shared between both fics)

[intro post explaining y/n and t/n]

SYNOPSIS:

T/n has always loved music, though her experience of it wasn’t always the greatest. Forced by her parents to learn the violin - almost purely to climb the socio-economic ladder - she’s since forged her own path. She auditions at Wonderland Entertainment and becomes one of their studio musicians, but how will she deal with seeing her ex-best friend who also happens to be contracted under the company?

Also, how does t/n’s existence connect to y/n, someone she’s never met?

🎵 main cast

Chapters:

🎵 Prologue | a long time ago… in a town far, far away…

🎵 one | “local celebrity”

🎵 two | mahler

🎵 three | emperor nero

🎵 four | come meet the kids

🎵 five | duck and cover

🎵 six | his feefees were a little hurt

🎵 seven | homework

🎵 eight | give her my number

🎵 nine | canard et couverture parte deux

🎵 ten | a date?

🎵 eleven | the fight scene at the end of the count of monte cristo

🎵 twelve | we never talk

🎵 thirteen | youtube recommendations

🎵 fourteen | calendar man

🎵 fifteen | a ✨godsend✨

🎵 sixteen | no ducking nor covering

🎵 seventeen | he’s got pipes

🎵 eighteen | thinking about hats

🎵 nineteen | it is still apples

🎵 twenty | i know exactly who you are

🎵 twenty-one | busking

🎵 twenty-two | he got an audition or something

🎵 twenty-three | best friend

🎵 twenty-four | garage band

🎵 twenty-five | it’ll be worth it

🎵 twenty-six | more like “drone strike parenting”

🎵 twenty-seven | interrogation

🎵 twenty-eight | it’s over

🎵 twenty-nine | more like constipated

🎵 thirty | maybe

🎵 thirty-one | JUPiTER

🎵 thirty-two | no horses in space

🎵 thirty-three | Crom3r

🎵 thirty-four | punk rock

🎵 thirty-five | what a feeling

🎵 thirty-six | do we need a hot air balloon?

🎵 thirty-seven | gotta let the fans know

🎵 thirty-eight | i’ll bring the wine

🎵 thirty-nine | girl’s night

🎵 forty | that’s a no on the hot air balloon

🎵 forty-one | new kids

🎵 forty-two | splash fight

🎵 forty-three | a recluse and a traitor

🎵 forty-four | merch drop

🎵 forty-five | lol i’m screencapping

🎵 forty-six | do you know how to do cubes?

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🎵 seventy-seven* |

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🎵 ninety-seven* |

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Epilogue 1

Epilogue 2

Epilogue 3

Epilogue 4

Epilogue 5

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵

[fics-lovebot]

enemies to lovers, academy rivals and work rivals are ugly tropes idc

LIKE??? I need him to be obsessed with me from the gET GO, I don't want none of that "we hate each other" shitt

[mazeinthemiroh]

kill them with kindness

Pairing: San x female! reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, angst, happy ending

Word Count: 3.4k

Requested?: yes

Warnings: cursing, the reader is the mean one, very angsty, mentions of passing out, mentions of alcohol

Summary: San's strategy to counteract your mean comments involves being his usual, kind self. But there's only so much he can bear before you push him to his breaking point.

Author's Notes: Finally finished this one. It's super, duper angsty so if that's your thing then you'll definitely like this one. Please let me know what you think, I really hope you guys enjoy <3

"You really suck at this game, San."

It would be a usual occurrence for you to go around to the dorms. Yunho usually invited you round the most, being what you would consider a best friend. That's how you had gotten to know the other boys, and slowly you became a big supporter of the group, getting to know and love all of them. Well.... most of them...

"It's my first time playing! Cut me some slack," San mumbled softly in response to your little remark, his eyes unwavering and unmoving from the screen in front of him. His gaze was fixated on the PC screen as you and Yunho watched him. To be fair to him, they had just bought this game this morning, so it's not like San had any chance to practice. It's unfortunate that he couldn't make it even past the first round.

"Ahh, this is unlike you Sannie," Yunho chipped in, slurping back a big gulp of his beer, "you are usually better than this."

"Yeah, yeah," rapid clicks could be heard from the PC's mouse as San spammed it with his finger, gritting his teeth as he fully concentrated on the screen.

The words 'game over' appeared in big, bold letters on the screen as San sighed and sunk into his chair. He was frustrated with himself, he always was when he tried something new and he doesn't get it right the first time. He was a perfectionist. The laid-back, humble persona was his usual appearance, but he still had this charge inside him to do better, be better. Perhaps be the best. If he didn't meet up to that standard then, what was the point?

"Take a rest you've been playing that for ages. Do either of you want a beer?" Yunho asked as he stood up, traipsing his way out of the room and into the kitchen.

San spun around in his chair and faced you. His pout was replaced with calmness. He knew he shouldn't get too down on himself for stupid things like this, so he decided to just let it go.

"I thought you were supposed to be good at everything."

There was something quite venomous about your voice. Something about the words you had chosen. The sharp thorns of your tone seemed to bounce off the walls and wrap around San's head, digging into his brain as your words fully sunk in.

He was so in awe, so taken aback. The sheer audacity that exuded from your presence was enough to drive him mad. The shock of your words visibly affected him, eyebrows arching upwards in hurt, in confusion, in curiosity.

"Well no," San exhaled a chuckle, not sure if you were being serious by your backhanded comment, "I just try my best at everything, that's all."

San looked at you intensely, with waiting eyes. He shrugged off your comment. Well, he shrugged off all your comments. All that you had made before, during the game, or before he even started the game. He shrugged off all the little comments you had made from the moment you met him.

Kill them with kindness: that's his motto.

"How does it feel when trying your best just isn't enough anymore?"

San felt like he was falling into a void. A black, endless oblivion of self-doubt, disbelief, and uncertainty. He blinked innocently. Your comments were deeper than a mere video game. All your comments were. They were deeper than all the surface-level stuff you made them out to be. It's like you were playing with him. Toying with his insecurities from day one. Was he that readable? Could you just tell from the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he presented himself and interact with others? Could you tell from the look in his eye, the small, naive sparkle in his pupils? Could you tell by the way he breathed, in and out, inhale and exhale, that he was filled to the brim with insecurities? And he'd tried so hard to cover it. And he'd made a big deal to never show it. But was the mask he wore, the confidence he demonstrated, the smile he wore on his face day by day not enough to fool you?

His left eye twitched slightly. Then he smiled down at the carpet beneath his feet. He didn't want you to win this. You weren't going to win when you were playing so dirty, not on his watch.

"That just means I need to try harder."

There were not that many people who had the privilege of being allowed to go backstage at an Ateez concert. And yet here you were, watching them from the sidelines, supporting them as they ran through choreography after choreography.

There was something you couldn't deny about San: he was an amazing performer. He pours his heart and soul into each and every performance. Each flick of the hand, each turn, each intricate foot movement and line placement and physical interaction with the other members; everything he did all had a purpose. His technicality was on point. His facial expressions matched every song each time: the longing in his eyes at the end of their Take Me Home performance; the happiness and joy beaming from his smile in Dancing Like Butterfly Wings; the anger and rage etched into the lines of his face when dancing to Guerilla. Precise, detailed, perfect. He never, ever missed.

You almost felt proud of him. Well, it was hard to express exactly what you felt for him. There was no reason to hate him. No reason at all. He had been nothing but kind and good to you, even when he had every reason not to be. And now, watching him here, pour his heart and soul out all over the stage, there was something in his eager, determined eyes that made you think that, matched with his kindness, he didn't deserve the brunt of your unexplained feelings for him.

As they closed their concert with their last performance, the cheers of the crowd sounded exhilarating. You waited backstage to praise them, tell them how well they did, and perhaps show San a little kindness through all the work he has done.

They came off breathy and sweaty. Mingi and Yeosang downed five bottles of water in the space of two minutes, which you didn't think were possible. Hongjoong and Wooyoung flopped onto the empty sofa outside their dressing room, and Jongho soon followed. Seonghwa breathed out a long sigh as he tried to regain his breath. But there was no sight of San. Where had he disappeared to?

Yunho approached you with a beaming smile,

"Ahh you did so well Yunho, your dancing was insane I loved it so much," you embraced him in a gentle hug as he wrapped his arms around you in return.

"And you Seonghwa. Your voice is getting more and more angelic each time you go on stage," you said as you let go of Yunho. They both chuckled at your comment and said their thanks, before heading off to get changed out of their concert clothes.

You couldn't help but wonder where San was. He was with the group at the very last moment, but then he disappeared somewhere.

Just as you thought this, San emerged from the swarms of staff that surrounded him. Most of his staff were beautiful girls, totally fitting the beauty standard and perfect in every way. Heck, they could even be idols themselves if they pursued that dream too. It was hard to watch as they constantly praised him and said how well he did, and even made him smile. An exhausted, heavy smile, but a smile all the same.

He excused himself as he broke free from the crowded back area, a water bottle in his hand as he practically inhaled the drink. He saw you standing there watching him as he continued to breathe heavily.

"Asthma?" You joked playfully. Or, at least, you hoped it came across as playful.

San was frowning already. You had caught him at a bad time. "Maybe it's the fact that I have performed 30 performances tonight, don't you think?" There was a sharp edge to his voice, one that you should've taken as a warning.

But you didn't.

"Maybe if you didn't over-perform you might not be a mess right now."

".... What did you say?"

You gulped slightly at his more dangerous tone now. The air around you felt cold. "I... I just said that maybe over-dancing might not have been the bes-"

"Over-dancing? Over-performing? This is my job, y/n!" San raised his voice defensively. You had never heard him yell before, it was extremely frightening. "I give 100% of myself or nothing. You know that. I did not just pass out and completely collapse from exhaustion just for you to criticise me!"

Your eyes widened. Oh fuck, you thought, that's where he was.

He sunk back down on a chair behind him, still trying to catch his breath. The shouting wasn't going to do him any favours.

"Take it easy, San," a high-pitched voice tuned in to the conversation. One of his staff, a bright-eyed, pretty-looking girl had passed him a water bottle and smiled at him. "Thank you," San managed to breathe out and smile back at her before she left to help the other members.

You rolled your eyes slightly. At the girl, at San, at yourself? You couldn't tell. It was probably all three.

"Don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only nice to her because she's nice to me," he was snarling his words now. "I made the mistake of treating you the same, but you didn't deserve it. You never did. I don't know why I even bothered with you"

It felt weird, having the same energy you had once given him suddenly reciprocated. You didn't know what to do, how to feel. You just stood there in silence.

"I know your bitter, twisted soul doesn't even care that you've upset me. Or care that I passed out," San raised his voice again, his chest heaving up and down with effort. His energy was sapped already but he still spoke with such vigour, such authority. His passion never ran out."You're so shitty, Y/N. I can't believe you."

"San I didn't kno-"

"Just save it! I can't believe Yunho would ever hang around with a bitch like you," his eyes were filled with hurt and pain as his hand fell on his chest. He was struggling to breathe again, more than you had ever seen before. Tears started pouring down his cheeks. He was stressed, frustrated. Broken.

Your mouth fell open as your words were choked out. You had no idea what to do. You watched as his staff scurried back to where he was sitting, making sure he doesn't pass out again. They didn't seem to know what went down, or what had occurred between the two of you.

As you backed away from the now crowded room, you could still catch sight of San's eyes through the bustle of his staff.

Devastation. That's what he's eyes told. Betrayal, hurt, hopelessness. And it was all your fault.

A couple of weeks had passed since the Ateez concert. You hadn't seen any of the members, not even Yunho. Not because they didn't want to see you, oh no. It's because you didn't want to see them.

You didn't want to be reminded of the night you broke San.

Dwelling on it was too hard, but you knew you needed to confront him at some point. You knew you needed to apologise.

Which is why you finally responded to Yunho's texts. 'Why don't I see you these days? You ok?' So San hadn't told his roommate about the incident. Part of you was so relieved at this thought. You didn't want your relationship with the other members to be tarnished by your stupidity. You needed to fix this for good.

But still, there was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Maybe he thought you were avoiding him. Or phasing him out of your life. That simply wouldn't do.

So you typed on your phone, vigorously, and told him everything. You had no idea why and had even less of an idea as to how he would respond. As you finished your big paragraph, you sent your little confession to your best friend, praying he would understand.

It was agonising, being left on read for what? Ten minutes? It was probably two but it felt like an eternity to you as your eyes tried to distract themselves on pillows, an empty cup of coffee on your bedside table, your coat that you threw on the chair yesterday when you couldn't be bothered to hang it up.

A reply came.

'So, what's your plan?'

He knew you so well. He knew you were torturing yourself about this, so much so that you started isolating yourself. He knew you needed to break free from the guilt.

So you told him how you were going to change all of that.

And here you were, sitting at the coffee shop nearest to KQ Entertainment. It was further away from your house but more convenient for San, of course. Which you hope would work to your advantage.

You stared down at the empty coffee mug as you held it with both hands. You had already gone through two coffees but felt like you needed two more. But you weren't going to apologise to San while you're bouncing off the walls, filled to the brim with caffeine.

And here he was.

You watched him as he entered in. He took off his red scarf and black coat and held them neatly in his arms. A flurry of hair laid on his head, messy, confused, and dare you say... adorable? His eyes were a dark, cosy pool of coffee that you could swim in for hours. The snug light of the coffee shop lit his features like a warm hug on a winter's day, his face fitting comfortably with his surroundings.

He walks slowly in, scanning the coffee shop in search of someone. Before he lays eyes on you.

Noticing the hesitance in your smile, he returns no kind welcome, but rather wears an expression that can't be named. He was expecting to meet Yunho here, but he came to realise that he wasn't going to see him after all. You gestured for him to come over, and at first, he considers walking right back out and leaving. There is something in those sparkling, guilty eyes of yours that makes him want to hear you out.

He crosses over from the other side of the coffee shop, towards you. There is a light flutter of hope in your chest.

"Hi," you say in a small, mouse-like voice. You almost scoffed at how pathetic you sounded, but that can wait until later. San sits opposite you, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Umm," you cleared your throat and fiddled at one of the sugar sachets you had torn open before, "I just wanted to... umm... apologi-"

"Are the hot chocolates here any good?"

"Huh?" You blinked at his interruption, "umm yeah I think so?"

"Nice, I might go get a hot chocolate," San fiddled around his trouser pockets to try and whip out his wallet.

"No no, it's on me. My treat," you swiped your card in front of him, smiling weakly, even though he didn't bother looking up at you.

"I might buy 10 hot chocolates then," he sniffed, reaching over to grab your card. He made no effort to get up from his seat though. Instead, he fiddled around with your credit card in his hand.

"So you got Yunho to ask me to come here so you could apologise to me? Is that right?" You had no idea how someone's voice could be so soft and yet so chilling.

You nodded in response, not looking him in the eyes. You couldn't.

"I knew you wouldn't of come if I asked you."

San hummed, eyes fixed on you. There was a softness in his gaze now. A tenderness he once had for you despite all your harsh comments and icy words.

"Well," his voice sounded lighter now, "that's not necessarily true..." He faded off, still fiddling with your card in his hands.

There was an awkward silence shared between the two of you. Neither of you looked at each other, and neither of you knew what to say. But you felt it was best for you to speak first. After all, you are the reason all of this was happening.

"You see, San," you coughed to clear your throat again, shifting awkwardly in your seat, your tone becoming forcefully playful, "I'm much like Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice-"

"Never read it," San retorted bluntly.

"How have you nev- never mind," you shook your head, not wanting to get into another petty argument for no reason, "the point I'm trying to make is..." You finally look up at him with glossy eyes, trying to read his features. Meeting your gaze, he stares silently and waits for you to continue.

"I have trouble expressing my emotions for someone who is completely and hopelessly out of my league," you became visually uncomfortable as you struggled through your words, "I don't know what to do with someone like you. How can you impress someone who is already impressive? How can you be attracted to someone who is so attractive? How could you be loved by someone who is loved by everyone?"

San perked his head up fully, intrigue glistening in his eyes.

"So I guess I just pushed you away to avoid disappointment. I didn't want to hurt myself with my own feelings so, I hurt you instead..."

You stopped yourself from going on, feeling like you said too much already. A tear started pricking at your eyes as you realise just how much you had confessed to him, becoming extremely vulnerable and exposed. This was not part of the plan.

"I have always liked you, Y/N," his voice was like a lullaby, a gentle, caressing sound that reached your eyes enough to cradle you to sleep. "I liked you even before I met you. Yunho would tell me all about you, all the things you helped him with and have done for him. What type of person you are. He told me it all." He lowered his head again, "so when you were consistently horrible to me, even after trying to be kind to you, I felt it didn't make sense. I thought to myself 'This is not the same person Yunho described to me.' And seeing how you got on well with the other members, I thought that I was the problem."

Nodding, you could no longer raise your head from its sunken position, as guilt overtook you once more.

"You were never the problem," your voice cracked slightly, "it was always me. I don't know whether I was jealous of you, or whether I had just... fallen for you," you wrapped your arms around yourself, "all I did know was that I didn't understand the feelings I had for you. I was scared of my feelings for you."

It's all out now. No turning back. No rewind button or time machine to rebuff your final confession. But by that time you didn't care.

And neither did he.

A small tear slid down your cheek as you set them free. Doing this in a coffee shop with people around, what were you thinking? You sniffled a little and told yourself to get it together.

Until a soft hand wiped the stray tears away; San's hand. It was as if he collected the tear to store away somewhere precious, but rather, it had absorbed into the heat of his skin. You opened your eyes when you felt him cup your cheek, using his thumb to wipe any more stray tears as he looked into your watery eyes. A small, forgiving smile pulled at his lips. It was inexplicable. You were almost overwhelmed because you couldn't understand his generosity, his sincerity, his natural kind-heartedness. There was so much you didn't understand about him. But he didn't care at all.

"Let's try to understand your feelings. Together, this time."

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗two

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ3k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

You slowly turn around, praying and hoping it is not one of your employees but you are met with a tall man wearing round glasses. His hair is brown-black with blue shades at the ends and honestly, it suits him well.

Your eyes form an obvious question mark as he grins lightly offering his hand and says, “Hi, I am Song Mingi, Joongie’s assistant and friend.”

“Joongie?” you question him as he slightly racks his head not understanding why you are so lost, before realising his own mistake.

“Oh I meant Mr. Kim,” he clarifies as you nod your head rapidly and shake his hand. He offers a light smile before asking again, “The ‘darling’ matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, your Mr. Kim has a habit of flirting as you already know probably,” you reply with an easy-going smile. Mingi looks like a soft person with all that height which you find very endearing.

“I guess so,” he replies quietly before bowing as you bow back and he takes his leave inside the room where Hongjoong is.

You bit your lips trying to resist a smile as you walk back slowly towards your own office.

Mingi narrows his eyes and enters the room to assist Hongjoong keeping a mental note to ask when he has ever flirted with anyone that deeply. He forgets. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

“What’s got you giggling so much like a teenager?” Seonghwa groans as you roll your eyes. If he wasn’t your friend from college you would never have his nagging ass around. Okay, maybe his organising and cleaning abilities are like yours too. Overly frantic!

“Did you know Kim has a sexy but cutie assistant?” you ask him as he narrows your eyes at you.

“No, I didn’t, is this because of him?” he asks pointing at your smiley face.

“Maybe,” you sang lightly, pushing yourself back into the chair as Seonghwa let out another sigh.

Your happiness is short-lived as your office door swings open and Hongjoong walks in with some sheets of paper in his hand. You abruptly pull your giggling self up and sit straight, staring at him with daggers in your eyes.

“Have you ever heard of, oh I don’t know, knocking?” you scream the last part of the sentence. Nonchalantly removing his beret, he put it down on your table before thrusting his sheets towards you.

“Zip it, princess, you weren’t doing anything highly confidential,” he replies.

“How do you know that?” you retort, your mind fogging with clouds of anger at the pet name. Princess, darling, what’s next sweetheart? You are getting extremely impatient at this man now.

Seonghwa pops a biscuit in his mouth which he had stolen from the tea that was served to you and watches the increasing banter amusingly unfold between the two of you.

“I know because your room blinder is up, princess,” he replies smirking as a horrifying look crosses your face. Your blinders are up, that means-

“Yes, I saw you kicking your feet in the air and giggling like a teenage girl around her crush,” he deadpans as you groan, slumping your head back down on the table.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong doesn’t further probe into the topic, except throwing an amused smile your way. He clears his throat lightly and says, “Those papers contain the designs I have made, ask your models if they are comfortable with wearing them.”

You look up, scrunching your eyebrows at him as he gives you a non-plus look on his face. You look down at the papers with his words replaying in your mind. No designer has ever cared for what the models want, let alone asking them after making designs.

“Wait, you made these in a week?” you quiz looking at the eleven sheets of paper as he shrugs but you continue, “And I think you counted wrong, there are ten models, four male and six female.” Your eyes stick to a design inside that was an upgraded version of the gown you had gawked at on the first day he came. The colour also is changed to lilac from baby blue.

“Oh, my mistake,” he says swiftly and you nod, looking at the other designs. The way he had made the bold designs look strikingly different and the softer designs look oddly extraordinary using elements from various places made you speechless.

“You’re talented as hell,” you whisper out accidentally and then hope and pray he didn’t catch that or else the teasing for the next one and a half months will be endless.

“What was that again?” he asks playfully as you scoff biting back the smile and trying to hit your face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Photoshoot days make you extremely nervous. What if a model falls sick? What if a light breaks down? What if even one camera starts to malfunction? And the worst fear of all, what if the outfit design gets ruined?

It makes you more nervous than models and you have absolutely no idea why. Seonghwa had once said it was because you knew how once when the company under your dad almost went bankrupt because a minister’s daughter threatened to sue the company for molestation accusations. Even though the truth was that she was the one flirting around, the fear on your dad’s face that day showed you how the world works.

You tap your feet impatiently waiting for the shoot to start and soon you feel another presence beside you. Seonghwa was talking with the photographers in front and Hongjoong was out there fixing and checking the model’s outfit for the last time. You looked beside you and saw the handsome man, Song Mingi standing.

“Oh hello,” you greet bowing and he bows back and your mind flashes back to the first meeting with Hongjoong where he had thrown all formalities out the window.

“Are you okay? Your hands are shaking badly and you are fidgeting,” Mingi says his deep voice messing up your brain.

“Yeah,” you breathe out throwing a smile his way and looking in his eyes. Beautiful hair, brown eyes, tall, deep voice, respectful, and observant nature- could he be any more perfect? How did a devil like Hongjoong end up having an angel for his personal assistant?

The love song playing in your head suddenly made a screeching record sound as Hongjoong’s annoying tone cut through the air, “Mingi can you please check the models whilst I keep notes from here beside the director and our very beautiful CEO- nim?”

You take in a sharp breath as you see Mingi leaving and before you could even open your mouth he whispers, “Damn, if you stare at him with those heart eyes, his girlfriend will kill you.”

“He has a girlfriend?” you say it louder than you expect, looking at him in shock and unfortunately for you, a few of the sound and light officials look at you with questioning eyes.

You give them a small smile gaining back your cool before looking at a smirking Hongjoong saying, “You are not very subtle, are you?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you grit out and turned to look at the photoshoot that started already.

“Make me,” Hongjoong teases as you glare at him with fire in your eyes. Shouldn’t he be paying attention to the models? Or does he trust Mingi that much, yes, of course, everyone should trust that beautiful boy, and no, he has a girlfriend, you have to stop thinking about him.

“Look at that, I am so handsome that you can’t keep your eyes off me,” Hongjoong grins as you gasp. How dare he?

“In your dreams, Kim,”

“I dream about a lot of things.”

“Oh god.”

“You say that in my dreams too.”

You whip your head at him watching his lopsided smile and scoff. “Seriously?” you ask with disbelief evident in your face. Your ears felt like burning at the outrageous comment he just made. Like it has been a month only.

“Control your hormones, Kim, you ain’t a teen,” you reply as he cocks his eyebrows at you.

Slowly he leans in as you widen your eyes and try to go back but the camera stand leg hits your shoe. He looks into your eyes once before whispering, “Trust me, I am controlling myself a lot.”

He moves away, eyes fixing on the monitoring screen as you look into the distance. Your breath still feels erratic, his words repeating in your brain like some kind of spell. In all that whispering you believe he had glanced at your lips for just a fraction of a second, but surely you were tripping.

Not in this universe did Kim Hongjoong look at your lips.

And you definitely did not like that jerk of a human.

You did not.

Even if he makes you feel breathless.

You did not. Maybe it’s a thing that will pass. He just looked good today. Maybe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

After the shooting day, your schedules with Hongjoong had increased. The pictures have been released and blown up instantly. Various private and public interviews, press conferences, and media highlights kept the two of you busy. Most of the conferences had you two in the centre, speaking from both sides of the story.

Seonghwa made you write the words you will say under his surveillance because according to him you were “too stubborn” and “will say shit indirectly about Hongjoong” in your speech if he did not keep it under check.

You would not go that far you assured him, but he just would not trust you. Such a mom.

The same speech you repeated over and over again, changing the way of saying it in every interview. The words you had written weren’t a lie at all. You did find him talented and his designs out of the box but that fed his ego way too much.

He would ask you a question in every interview for example, “Oh you found that thing I used different, I see” or a “Well, of course, you liked it” and indulge in what the interviews called ‘playful banter’ as you would give him murderous look and he would just smile.

The week had ended quickly and you knew how the next few weeks you had to be busy again for the upcoming show and ramp-walk in Paris. You huff out a short breath as you silently clean up your office desk. Today's interview took an increasingly long time, and you just want to go home and dip yourself in a hot bath.

You zip up the chain of your handbag and redo the lipstick a bit before checking the mirror and applying some foundation under your eyes. You never know where cameras are and you certainly don’t want to be caught in any other state other than the “always fresh” or else articles are just a picture away.

Suddenly you hear a slight knock and think it is the security before letting out a forced but cheerful, “Come in.”

You turn around as your eyes meet the person you didn’t know could knock. “Did you learn how to knock? Also, I am tired, why are you here now?” you groan as looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Chill, I just wanted to drop by, I finished the paperwork and saw your light was on,” he replies as you shake your head.

“Always keeping a lookout for me or what?” you joke and he doesn’t answer choosing to smile instead and look sideways.

"I did think you would get me a binder for designing the clothes too?" Hongjoong asks and cheekily smiles before adding, "Darling." You roll your eyes at him, a stark contrast coming to your usual composed and calm behaviour as a CEO, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

You turn around in your heels ready to leave when he calls out, "Close the drawer on your left, darling."

Oh for fu- heaven's sake!

"Don't call me that," you nearly snarl at him and an innocent-looking smile etch his face as he comes closer to you and you stare back wishing your eyes could bore holes in his body.

He is simply insufferable.

"But you like it, when I call you that," his tone hints at light mocking as he continues, "Loosens up your uptight behaviour." You gasp at him feeling a bit offended and whisper out, "I hate you."

"Do you now?" he presses his lips together, loving how you are riling up. He has always loved to rile you up, balancing his comments well so that they don't become offensive but do tease you and he has been having an excellent time doing it.

He has a pretty face, your mind registers and your eyes lock with him, silently agreeing with your mind. He does have it, with his long lashes, two-toned hair falling on his forehead and soft lip- What is wrong with you?

You visibly shake out of your trance when you realise how close you and Hongjoong have come while talking.

Hongjoong's breath traces on your face and the room falls quiet with silent anticipation and even though your eye might be playing tricks but you did notice him steal a quick glance at your lips before looking up at your eyes again. Your breath feels slow and your eyes roam over his face and the moment feels like forever and somewhere in the back of your mind you wish it does.

The trance is broken as Hongjoong's phone rings and he jerks muttering a silent curse before moving away and picking it up while you widen your eyes and scurry out of the room.

What the hell just happened?

You pick up your bag and he turns around, walking out the door while you lock your office door since Seonghwa left early. You both had a quiet elevator ride, his familiar deodorant filling up the closed space. Neither of you talk nor would look at each other.

You feel thankful about it because god knows what you have spewed if you did. Walking outside you fish out your phone to book a cab while he takes out his keys.

“Woah, how did Miss Organised forget her car keys?” he giggles as you look at him glaring playfully. Of course, he is back to normal.

“I didn’t forget it, I gave it to my cousin earlier who wanted to impress a girl,” you breathe out as you remember his pleading face and promise to bring you as his plus one to a football match he is invited to.

Not that you can’t buy your own tickets, but going for free is always a different kind of fun.

“That is so old-school,” Hongjoong scoffs as you let out a laugh.

“Maybe, but he is eighteen, so I let him be,” you grin and then look back at your phone to see several car symbols roaming around the location.

“Well, I will drop you off,” Hongjoong voices out before he can stop himself and he is himself surprised when your head whips towards him.

“What if you kill me and dump me somewhere? I can’t trust you,” you gasp dramatically and he rolls his eyes.

“Please, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the day you hogged up half my pudding in the changing room,” he reasons.

“I was hungry and it was not half,” you whine as he stares at you.

“It was half, and no, do not say the piece between quarter and half, ‘cause it was half,” he shut you up raising his fingers and putting them on your parted lips.

He stares at your figure which is only slightly shorter than him as you stare back before he coughs and pulls his hands back and you look away licking your lips.

“Do you want the lift or not?” he asks again after a few seconds as you decide there is no harm in accepting help from him anyway. So you nod your head to a yes and you both head towards his car.

The car ride is mostly silent, a soft Lany song playing from the radio as you look out at the city lights lighting up the way. You felt them glittering the highway as Hongjoong followed the route you had explained earlier.

You look back at Hongjoong driving, the wind hitting his parted hair and the white part shining lightly under the streetlights. Okay, maybe he did make that work well. You see he has changed, probably in his office, you figured, and was just wearing a simple hoodie over the same jeans.

“Can’t take your eyes off me?” Hongjoong teases you without even glancing and you narrow your eyes at him before looking away as he giggles lightly.

“Do you ever stop talking?” you retort and he steals a quick glance at you before eyeing the road again.

“Do you ever stop being uptight?” he asks.

“Yes, sometimes I just want to leave all these and drive away anywhere my mind takes me to,” you sigh looking away and seeing the blinking traffic lights.

“I thought you didn’t like being spontaneous,” he adds on, though his tone had become increasingly softer compared to the earlier teasing and you look down at your hands.

“It’s not that easy, you know?” you reply as he hums lowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

After some moments of quiet pondering you look at him. You felt your brain function abnormally as you couldn’t help but find him ethereal as the orange streetlights lightened up his face. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation that made your heart beat faster and let your eyes linger long on his side profile and his eyes that were trained on the road ahead.

Suddenly you say, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. loving it rn lolol .ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[mingigoo]

hi sie!! i'm happy to see that your requests are open and would like to request something myself c: 1. seonghwa 2. roommate au 3. prompts 11 and 17 4. with spice please 🙏 thanks so much! i rly appreciate you and your writing even if you can't get to this 💕

I hope you like this!!! really enjoyed writing this one :)

— sleep-talker || p.sh (m.)

“You know you sleep talk?” 

“Stop looking at me like that.

🌊pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x roommate! Seonghwa

🌊 summary ⇢ when you and your friends decide on a trip to the beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you "hate" the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it.

🌊 genre/au ⇢ roommates au, vacation au, one bed trope, forced proximity au, smut

🌊 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, wet dreams, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, PDA, "enemies" to lovers, one-bed trope, teasing, jealousy, intense tension like holy hell

🌊 word count ⇢ 10.2k words

🌊 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts (please let me know if I forgot you!)

masterlist

ateez masterlist

“Are you for real right now?”

Spring break. A time for rest, relaxation, and lots and lots of sex.

And now, your plans of being a whore for the vacation were ruined.

“Yes, y/n. I can't afford another room just for you to have to yourself,” Hongjoong, your older brother, mumbled as he stuffed the last bit of clothes into his luggage. “You’ll have to room with Seonghwa. San and Wooyoung already called each other.”

He zipped up his suitcase and stood up to leave, but he couldn't get off that easily. “Please, Joong. I’ll do anything. Cant I just room with you and Mingi?” he hastily made his way out of his room and into the living room, trying his hardest to get away from you. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No blanket, just the floor. Please.”

He turned to face you, a confused expression on his face. “Why are you so adamant about not staying with Hwa? What did he ever do to you?” he asked you, genuinely curious. The truth is, he did nothing to you personally. Maybe that was why you hated him, because god, if he gave you the time of day, you would pounce on him like a cat in heat.

You groaned, running a hand through your messy, unwashed hair. “Because he’s a dumb ass jerk that gets everything he wants.” 

Hongjoong laughed at you and turned away. “It's only a week, y/n. He’ll probably spend most of his time in our room, anyway. Just bring a book to read or something to distract yourself.”

As if reading is the thing you'll be focused on if you were in a room with him. Oh Nah, you'll be wishing he’d walk around shirtless and hoping he somehow takes a shower and walks out with nothing on—

“I hope you're packed and ready….” Joong trailed off as he looked at your messy exterior, and stifled a laugh. “And if you're thinking of getting laid, you might want to shower.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, having no drive to shower. You'll get one when you get there. It's not like you were that stinky.

“Shut up, dickhead.”

You stood on the sidewalk of your apartment building, Hongjoong’s little yellow Geo Tracker sitting there lookin’ all cute. However, the tiny thing only had five seats.

There were six of you.

“Welp looks like I can't go! What a shame, what a shame,” you sarcastically yelled out, tossing your hands in the air exasperatedly.  “Have fun without me!”

“Shut your mouth, will you?” Hongjoong groaned, tossing your luggage into the “trunk” or whatever it was. “It's only a ride to the airport. You can sit on someone’s lap for ten minutes.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why am I the one that has to do that? Wooyoung is like the size of my arm. He can do it.”

Joong shut the trunk with force at your comment, totally disregarding you. “Hop in,” he said. “Enjoy shotgun while you have the chance.”

You got in reluctantly, even though you were very excited about the beach itself. Your excitement was short-lived as you approached the devil’s lair.

“Stay here, I’ll go help them,” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead as he put the car in park. 

You nodded, your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't mind the rest of the group— San and Wooyoung always knew how to make you laugh, and Mingi was absolutely eye candy. You wouldn't mind sitting on his lap on the way to the airport.

Just as you got comfortable with your head resting against the window, the door abruptly opened, causing you to nearly fall out of the vehicle. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell—” your words got caught in your throat as you met eyes with Park fucking Seonghwa. “Oh, it's you…”

He stood there, his thin torso draped in a sheer white top and his long, lean legs covered in a pair of black pants. You swallowed your drool like a schoolgirl, making sure he never knows how you think of him.

“What?” you raised your eyebrow, not moving an inch and not even reaching to unplug your seatbelt. “This seat’s taken, buddy.”

He snickered, his lips mockingly curled up in a sneer. “Oh, aren't you a sweetheart? Now move, I called shotgun.”

“Well, I did first.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No.”

“Yes—”

“Neither of you are getting shotgun,” your brother laughed from behind Seonghwa, San and Wooyoung giggling like the goofs they are next to him. You still didn't move, even as Joong approached and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. “Y/N, please help me out here.”

You debated on throwing a fit, but knowing that it would just cause more problems, you sighed and pushed yourself out of the front seat. Now standing on the curb of the sidewalk right in front of Seonghwa, you tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was intense—it made you envision what it would be like in bed, looking down at him from above, and how his eyebrows would knit together in pleasure. God, you needed to get laid this vacation, or you were going to be suffering from delusions.

Without warning, Mingi pushed through both of you, interrupting your staring contest.

“We better go, I don't want to listen to their bickering any longer,” the tall boy huffed as he plopped himself in the front seat, a proud smile resting on his lips. 

San sat in the backseat on the right, Wooyoung next to him in the middle. That left either you or seonghwa to fight to the death for that last seat, but you knew how this was going to end.

And it wasn't going to end well.

—

“You comfortable, y/n?” your brother called from the driver’s seat, looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

You frowned so deeply you could've sworn your face was permanently stuck like that.

There you were, in the back of the car, in the most uncomfortable seat ever. Seonghwa groaned underneath you, his bony body not offering you any wiggle room. You didn't answer your brother, you were certain your expression was enough of a response.

You adjusted yourself on Seonghwa’s lap, looking out the window for any distraction. As you moved, you felt him move his hips, and you had to shut away your filthy thoughts about him as soon as they came. Between his movements and his groans, your stomach was knotting in something more than butterflies.

The car was filled with conversation, however, you and Seonghwa remained quiet and in your own little worlds. As the others bantered, you pushed yourself up further on his lap, grimacing as you heard him let out a grunt in your ear. 

And then when his hands gripped onto your bare thighs, you were the one to gasp.

“Stop moving,” he whispered in your ear with haste, almost like a sneer. You kept your vision forward as his breath danced in your ear. “It hurts.”

You swallowed hard. “Oh? Is your little dick that sensitive?” you whispered back, smirking. You moved again, this time on purpose, feeling his bulge through his pants. You kept your cool, ignoring his shaky breaths from behind you. “Are you that happy to see me, Hwa?”

“Shut your mouth or you won’t see the sunrise,” he hissed, but his voice was weak. 

The ten-minute ride felt like an eternity as he breathed underneath you, your mind constantly thinking about how hard he was getting underneath you and how sweet it would be to turn around and face him to see his reaction to you.

You looked to your right, seeing Wooyoung with a knowing smile on his face. “What?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, letting out a giggle. “Just that you both seem…cozy.” 

You slapped him on the shoulder, your movements causing Seonghwa to wiggle underneath you.

“Dammit, Y/N I told you to stop moving,” he seethed, his grip on your thigh tightening. Hongjoong looked back through the mirror, worry in his expression.

“Everything okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes before focusing on the road once again. “We’re almost there, only about a minute or two.”

“Ten-minute ride my ass,” you mumbled, and as you entered the Airport, you should've known that there were going to be speed bumps on the way in….

The shitty old car hopped over the bump, feeling like it hit a huge boulder. You bounced up, not held by any seatbelt, landing hard, right on Seonghwa’s family jewels.

“Fuck,” he cried, tossing his head back against the headrest. Your hands were now holding onto his legs for dear life.

“Joong, will you slow down for those things? Some of us are suffering back here,” you said, to which seonghwa started laughing.

“You're telling me.” he scoffed.

“Okay okay, I just have to park. I have no idea how this works….where the hell is the long-term parking—”

“Probably over there,” Mingi pointed in the opposite direction.

“No, no, I think it’s—”

“I can't take this anymore!” you cried out, leaning forward to assist Hongjoong since Mingi isn't helping. “There's a huge sign in front of us. How can you miss that? It spells it out, dammit.” you huffed, throwing yourself back into your “seat.” This time, he didn't let out a single groan, probably just as fed up with you as you were with him.

Finally, Hongjoong found the lot and parked the car, and as soon as it was stationary, you tossed yourself out of the vehicle like there was no tomorrow. You knew that you couldn't last a minute more on his lap, because if you did, you would be so tempted to turn around and make out with those painfully pretty lips of his. God, he made you so mad. Ever since you met him, there were only the same thoughts circulating round and round. 

Dirty thoughts.

Seonghwa crawled out of the car like a decrepit old spider, his long legs holding up his body with grace. You bit your lip, looking down at where you were sitting on him. Quickly, you looked away as he noticed your gaze, and ran away to go help the others with the luggage.

You weren't quick enough to miss the achingly attractive smirk on Seonghwa’s face.

Why did he have to be so….. libidinous? He was like a wild animal, able to take the lives away of his prey with just an expression.

No more seonghwa on the brain—it was beach time. You were certain you could find someone at a bar to sleep with later, and it wouldn't be Hwa.

Not now, not ever.

—

You got lucky with the plane ride.

Your seat buddy was Mingi, and Hongjoong knew how much you like your window seats.

Mingi nearly slept the whole flight, his head rested against your shoulder. He snored a little, but it didn't matter. The gentle giant had a place in your heart, so he could do no wrong. 

You often stole glances at Seonghwa across the aisle, his head bobbing up and down as he fought his tiredness. He was so much more likable when he was sleeping, but that was definitely due to the fact that he couldn't stare at you with those entrancing eyes or run that mouth of his.

You were the only one awake by the end of the flight. It was difficult for you to sleep in public places. It didn't feel right. So you would fight off sleep as hard as you could and distract yourself with anything around you.

After the fiasco of leaving the plane, you anxiously trailed behind Hongjoong through the busy airport, pushing past loads of people who had places to be. Thank goodness you were able to leave the airport without a fuss, even if seonghwa was nearly breathing down your neck as you exited.

Luckily, the ride to the hotel wasn't far—and there were more than enough seats for all of you. You distanced yourself from Seonghwa, ignoring his hellish gaze.

The hotel you were staying at stood tall, facing the gorgeous blue ocean for a perfect view. You shut your eyes as you took everything in, smelling the saltiness and the warmth of the air. You smiled to yourself, but your delightful moment didn't last long.

Seonghwa bumped into you purposely, digging his shoulder into yours before walking past you toward the hotel entrance. “Hey, what was that for?” you growled, a scowl on your face.

“You were in the way,” is all he said, not even bothering to turn to face you as he spoke. He continued walking, his beautiful silhouette showing through his sheer shirt. Oh, you wanted to tear it off of him so badly.

You let out a huff of air, but then followed your friends into the building, knowing the end was near if you had to share the room with your snack of choice.

Hongjoong went up to the front desk as you and the boys stood near the doorway, waiting for him to check us in. It didn't take him long, and soon enough, he was walking back over, key cards in his hand, and a bright smile on his face. “All checked in! This’ll be our home for the next week.”

San grabbed his key card first. “Are we all on the same floor? Like in a row? It would be no fun if I had to actually put on clothes to go on the elevator.”

“Yes, San, we’re all on the same floor.” Hongjoong held in his laugh, already clearly enjoying his time away from reality. You stood angrily with your arms across your chest next to seonghwa, who didn't look any happier than you. “And will you two brighten up? You’re killing the vibe.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up at the boy next to you. His dark hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, sticking to his forehead like it would if he were sweating. You gulped, thinking dirty thoughts once more before regaining your peace of mind. “I’m not doing anything. It’s all him.”

“No, it’s all you, not me.” he retaliated.

“You’re the one that got a hard-on from me just innocently sitting on your lap.”

“You were purposely shoving your ass on me like a freak—”

“You are ruining the vacation already—”

“Annnd we’re not doing this again,” Mingi sighed and then gripped onto your arm to pull you towards the elevator. 

“Let’s go, we got bars to get wrecked at.”

—

“Oh, hell no.”

You dropped your luggage as you entered your room for the week, staring at what was in it.

Or lack thereof.

One bed—a queen, maybe, sat in the middle of the room. A chair was tilted by the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony, and a lamp stood in the corner. It was cute, of course, but you thought this couldn't get any worse.

Seonghwa walked past you into the room, setting his suitcase on the floor by the chair. “Don't worry,” he hummed, his voice low. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I–” you paused, taking in a breath before continuing. “You can sleep on the bed, I ain't that mean.”

“So you think I’m going to let my best friend’s sister sleep on the floor?” he laughed, but it wasn't out of humor. “That’s funny. I’d get my ass beat.” He sat down on the floor, stretching out his long legs before opening his suitcase. “Just forget about me like you usually do and take the bed.”

You had no snarky remarks to throw at him this time, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever. You sighed, sitting down on the bed with a thud. “Okay, fine. Wake me up when we are going to leave.”

“Yeah yeah,” he snarkily replied, too focused on his luggage in front of him. You shut your eyes slowly, holding on to your consciousness a little longer, before drifting off into a sleep that would cause an unexpected uproar a few hours later.

—

After your amazing nap, you and the boys found your way to a beach bar, sand filling the floor and loud music playing in the background. You took your rightful spot at the bar, sitting right next to Wooyoung, who was already chugging a fruity margarita. 

“You should try this, Y/N,” he let out a satisfied sigh after he finished his gulp. “Tastes like fucking unicorns and rainbows.”

You laughed. “Sounds divine, but I’ll pass and get my whiskey sour.”

He grimaced. “Ew, you should spruce it up a little bit sometimes.”

San sat down on the other side of him, a fancy glass in his hands as well. “Yeah, you’re kind of a bore.”

“San what the—”

“She is, isn't she?” Seonghwa hummed from behind you, and of course, sat his ass in the chair right next to you. You groaned, ignoring him once again, although it was quite hard to not drool as he gulped his beer, his throat bobbing as he drank it.

Fucking hell.

You looked around for any sign of your brother to save you, and once you saw him, you cringed, turning right back around to face the bar. “Dear god, can't he keep his dick in his pants for five minutes?” you shivered, trying to think of anything else other than your brother making out with a random person. 

Seonghwa looked back, a smirk on his face as you ordered your drink. “Hypocrite. Just last week I walked in on you with Mingi in the chem lab,” he snickered, his midnight eyes catching the neon lights behind the bar. “Your tongue was so far down his throat I swear I—”

“Says the guy who I caught watching porn freshman year in the computer lab—”

“Here’s your Whiskey sour,” the bartender awkwardly interrupted, but thank god he did. You quickly chugged it, finishing it within a minute of getting it. He gave you another right away, and you downed that one as quickly as it came. He was cute, a little on the scruffy side, but definitely a good one-night. You gave him a look, feeling accomplished as he smirked a little before serving someone else.

“Maybe you shouldn't drink so fast, y/n,” San murmured from Wooyoung’s side, his strong arms holding his weight against the table. “You get drunk really quick on an empty stomach. Remember what happened last time? You have a bad habit of trying to kiss everything you see.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, setting the empty glass down on the bar. As you did that, you felt the warmth of the alcohol fill your body. “What? Who did I kiss?”

Seonghwa laughed from the other side of you while you focused on San.

“Me.” San blinked. “Tongue and all. But not just me, you kissed the statue outside our campus. You know, that really rusty one?”

You gagged. “Ew, no. stop. No, I didn't.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Seongwha piped in, sipping on his third or fourth beer. “And then you threw up on my shoes when I brought you home.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, taking his beer right out of his hands. “Phew, thank god I didn't kiss you,” you shivered, bringing the bottle up to your lips. After you started chugging it a little bit, Hwa ripped the bottle away from you.

You felt your vision start to sway from the alcohol. You loved the feeling of being drunk—just hated the hangovers. Right now though, you wanted to get wasted and go home with a stranger. The hangover will be tomorrow’s problem.

But seonghwa had to just run his mouth once again.

“You know you talk in your sleep, right?” He laughed, a full, humorous laugh. He tossed the bottle to the back of his throat and then continued to laugh at you. “Something about how awful the airplane food was and how drinking milk reminds you of cum.” he grimaced at the last part, but a playful smile still rested on his face. “God you are explicit.”

Your cheeks flushed, looking anywhere but his direction. “I do not sleeptalk.”

You looked to Wooyoung and San for help, but they looked dumbfounded. “I wouldn't know, y/n, I never slept with you,” San smirked, smiling deviously at you. “Unless you’re down with that, I’m all for hearing you sleeptalk in my ear all night.”

“Yeah, me too,” Woo played along, knowing he was just doing it to tease you. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was trying desperately to embarrass you in front of the hot bartender.

“God, it’s so annoying, I wanted to rip my hair out earlier,” he smiled devilishly, his teeth even brighter than normal under all the neon lights. “I thought I couldn't hate you more, but you proved me wrong.”

You looked straight ahead, ignoring Seonghwa’s goofy smile. “Whatever,” you huffed, resting your face on your hand, your elbow holding up the weight. You watched the sexy bartender notice your stare. He smiled and walked over to you.

“Need another sour?” he asked, his cheeks pinched with dimples. You had your eyes set on going home with him, and you were going to follow through with it. Seonghwa can stay outside for the night—or watch, it didn't matter to you. 

“Actually,” you pondered, blinking slowly as the alcohol hit your system even harder. “I’ll take a vodka and Sprite. Grey Goose.” you hummed, watching him nod with a smirk on his face.

Seonghwa chuckled, but you were too focused on your mission to hear him blab about how much he hated you over and over again. Soon enough, that damn grey goose hit you harder than anything. Your eyes fluttered after your second glass, your vision fuzzy, and your heartbeat racing. 

You let out a heavy sigh, unable to remember your original mission.

“Hey,” you coughed, your cheeks burning up from the toxin. You looked around the bar, only meeting Seonghwa’s eyes…..oh…they’re so pretty. “Where did everyone else go?”

He was facing you, looking at you through those sparkling irises of his. He took in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, your brother left with that girl he was making out with earlier….San and Woo left not too long ago to go to another bar, and Mingi….” he paused, watching your expression change when mingi was mentioned. “Mingi went with them.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Why’d you stop at mingi like that?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why’d you look like that when I mentioned him?”

You sniffled, feeling a burning sensation in your throat from all the vodka. “What do you mean?” you were too messed up to defend yourself. You didn't even know your expression changed.

“You looked…different when I said his name.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his dreary tone. “Pfft. Hwa, do you think that just because I slept with him once that I have feelings for him?”

He frowned, his eyebrows knit with confusion. “You slept with him? Mingi?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Just once, though.” Oh god, you officially couldn't think straight. Why were you even telling him this? “But that was it.”

He looked at you with an unknown expression, flattening his lips. “So you just sleep with anyone, huh?”

You scoffed. “Well, no, not usually.” you bit your lip, looking at him without knowing how you were looking at him. “I kind of always wanted you, but I didn’t understand why, so I ignore the feeling by sleeping with other guys.”

“That makes no sense, y/n,” he spat. “What are you saying?”

You rolled your eyes, drunkenly gripping his broad shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Awh, shut it, Hwa. Haven't you ever felt that before?” you paused, not realizing how close you were. His eyes were sharp, and his lips parted. “Wanting someone you can't have? Knowing that they wouldn't want anything to do with you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze piercing into you sharply. “You’re drunk, y/n,” he paused, looking at you intently before shaking your hands away. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Oooh, don't tempt me, baby,” you poked his chest, giggling as he stood up off the barstool. You were completely oblivious to the fact that you just admitted to wanting him, but it didn't seem like he took it seriously. 

“Get up,” he huffed, gripping under your arms and lifting you off your chair. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his waist. You held onto him tightly as he reached into his back pocket to grab money, tossing it onto the counter with a glare at the bartender. 

“Enjoy your night,” Seonghwa growled, holding onto you, and made his way towards the hotel with you clung to him.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, a giggle under your breath.

He grunted, pulling you along with him. “What?”

You sniffed. “Can I kiss you?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Why?” you mumbled, shoving your face into his chest.

“Because it’s your drunk habit.”

“So would you kiss me if it wasn't?” you asked, completely obliterated. There was no way you were going to remember this in the morning. 

He didn't answer you.

“Come on, Hwa,” you moaned, stopping and gripping onto his collar in front of the hotel. You looked up into his eyes, feeling his intense gaze cut right through your intoxication. You needed him. Needed him bad. “Just once. God, just once.”

“I…” he swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides, crying out to touch you. He kept them away, even if he didn't want to. “Not now. Not while you’re drunk.”

You blinked slowly, watching his lips flatten into a frown. “Does that mean you want to?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair aggressively. “Please just….let’s get back to the room and get you to bed.”

You groaned, but complied, following him into the hotel and into the elevator. The ride was silent, Seonghwa standing in the corner, farthest away from you, his breathing slowed. You stared at him, leaning up against the wall.

“I really hate you,” you mumbled, glaring at him. He was too sexy, his hair messy, his eyes dark, his long legs taller than a skyscraper. You only admitted your attraction to him when you were drunk, but you couldn't deny the pull you had to him.

He looked up at you, his starry eyes looking from your legs, up to your hips, over your breasts, and finally to your eyes. He took in a sharp breath, biting the corner of his lip.

“I hate you too,” he whispered, his vision low.

And in what world would the words I hate you cause someone’s heart to flutter?

The elevator dinged at your floor, and after a moment of longing stares, Seonghwa gripped your arm and dragged you out. He held onto your drunken body as he searched for his keycard, and once he found it, you tumbled into the room together. 

Your back was pressed against the wall, his arms caging you in on both sides. His forehead was on yours, and you were able to feel his hot breath against your lips.

“Oh,” you hummed, your hands subconsciously dancing at the hem of his t-shirt. You watched his throat bob anxiously as you looked into his eyes.

It took everything in him to move away. He coughed awkwardly and then nodded toward the bed. “Come on, you need to rest.”

“Mhm,” you murmured, unable to move in a straight line. You kicked off your sandals, and pulled off your shirt with ease, leaving you only in your bra and that skimpy skirt seonghwa was looking at all night.

He watched as you walked, holding his breath without meaning to. 

As you neared the bed, you reached back to unclip your bra, but you couldn't reach it. “Hwa?”

He was looking at the floor. “Hm?” 

“Can you…” you paused, giving up on trying to get it off. “Take this off of me? It’s really uncomfortable.”

He blinked, his eyes wide. You couldn't see the confusion in his expression, but you heard the shakiness of his tone. “W-what? Your….bra?”

“Yeah.”

He didn't say anything else. He slowly walked over to where you were, and as his fingertips traced the middle of your back, you shivered under his touch.

He unclasped the hook, but held on to both ends of the bra, afraid to let it drop. “It’s done,” he whispered, backing up slightly.

You dropped the bra onto the floor and then reached to take off your skirt. As you slid it down your hips, you heard seonghwa nearly trip over his feet trying to turn away.

“Do you…always sleep naked?” he asked you, looking anywhere but where you were. You were way too drunk to care about what he sees, but you were also too tired to try. You fell onto the bed, your arm covering your breasts and your underwear still on.

“Fuck, y/n,” Seonghwa huffed, finally looking over and doing everything to not look where he shouldn't. He gently reached for the blanket, tossing it over you in one swift motion.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling his presence loom over you. He brushed away the stray hairs on your face and made sure you were laying on your side. 

“.... I’m so screwed,” he muttered, giving you one last look before walking into the bathroom and turning on the cold water. 

A cold shower, especially knowing that there was a beautiful, nearly naked girl in the bed just outside the door. 

The cold water ran down his body, giving him a rush of pain. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, biting his lip as his attraction to you only worsened. 

—

After his attempt to cleanse his messy thoughts, Seonghwa stepped out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips. He hesitated before looking over at you, and after he got a good look at your pretty face, he made his way to his luggage, rooting in there for a t-shirt to toss on.

“...seong…hwa,” you moaned. 

Moaned. 

“....y/n?” he whispered, maybe thinking you were awake and needed something. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but that sounded too….sensual than just a normal tone.

“I…ugh,” you groaned, “don't stop, please. H…Hwa.”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, dropping the clothes he had in his hands, eyes wide.

“Seonghwa….”

Okay, that was the third time. You were most definitely dreaming about him….

“Oh…my…god.” Hwa gulped, cautiously standing up and backing away as far as he could from you.

Little did he know how detailed your dream was.

—

His hands snaked up your bare hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were on your ear, biting, teeth clashing against your skin. 

He thrusted into you, hard, his hips buckling as he moaned. You cried out his name, back arching, nails scratching. He fucked you hard, his forehead against yours, and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“You like that?” he whispered, his tongue sliding into your mouth before you could answer. His sweat fell on your cheek, and you moaned out his name once more. You weren't sure how you got here, how this came about, or anything. All that mattered was that you were finally with him, the man you always thought you hated.

“…hwa,” you moaned, “fuck me harder.”

And as he slammed into you with even more force than before, his lips crashed onto yours, his black hair blocking your vision. You wanted more, and more and more—

“Y/n,” 

“Just shut up and keep going,” you cried out.

“Y/N!”

You shot awake, gasping for air as your back hit the headboard. You breathed heavily, realizing that you were dreaming about all of that and that the real seonghwa was standing in front of you, shirtless, with an expression you weren't quite sure you’d ever seen before.

“Seonghwa, what—”

“S..stop it. Don't say my name,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but your body. He quickly tossed a t-shirt at you—his t-shirt. “Just put this on. The guys are down getting breakfast, so we gotta go.”

He quickly walked to his own luggage and grabbed a shirt for himself. You watched him as he tossed it on and slid on his shoes, and with one last awkward glance at you, he left the room in haste.

You were too scared to look down, hoping that you still had underwear on. You weren't too sure if that was a dream or not, but given the way he acted, it made you even more confused.

You felt the wetness between your thighs, clenching them with a sigh. You stood up, tossing on the bra that was laying on the floor as if it was thrown off of you.

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you made your way to the breakfast area on the first floor, immediately noticed by Hongjoong. “There you are! I was worried you weren't going to—” he stopped, noticing the shirt that was way too big on you. “That’s the shirt I got Hwa….”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, shoving a bagel into his mouth to distract himself.

You ignored him and sat down across from him and next to Mingi. You looked up, meeting eyes with the man you thought so filthily about, seeing a swipe of cream cheese on the bottom of his lip. You held back, knowing that it’ll just send you into another spiral if you pointed it out.

But when he stuck his tongue out to lick it off, you felt the tingle in your stomach once more, thinking back at the dream you had, and how his tongue caressed you in more ways than one.

He met eyes with you, his lips parting slightly. His gaze was much different than it ever has been. You've never seen him so….lost. His expression was conflicted, his eyes not leaving your lips.

Wooyoung smirked. “Did you guys fuck or something? What’s with the mood?”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong yelled.

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious,” he shrugged.

“We didn't. Keep dreaming,” Seonghwa muttered lowly, taking another bite of his bagel.

Hongjoong huffed. “I don't want to imagine my sister and seonghwa in that way…that’s super weird.”

“Why?” seonghwa questioned, his tone serious. You looked at him, confused as to why he cared. It seemed like everyone else was just as confused as you. “Ahem, I mean…uh, is it that hard to imagine?” Seonghwa’s voice was shaky, his gaze hopping from Hongjoong to you.

It made your brother laugh. “Well, yeah. You guys hate each other, right?” he took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It makes no sense for you to even see eye to eye, I couldn't imagine you two in any type of relationship. Maybe her and Mingi, out of everyone.”

Seonghwa dropped his bagel face down onto his plate. “Why Mingi? What’s so special about—”

“I’m right here guys….” Mingi tried to interrupt, but Seonghwa shot him a dangerous glare, causing the gentle giant to hold his tongue.

Hongjoong looked around at the boys awkwardly and picked up his fork to continue eating his eggs. “I’m just saying.”

This was too awkward. You kept stealing glances at Hwa as if he were a magnet. You assumed he felt similarly, because every time you looked, your eyes would meet, and then you would awkwardly stare for a moment too long before looking away.

And when he got up to get more food, you got up, too.

“We need to talk,” you whispered, coming right up next to him as he put a muffin on his plate. “Why are you acting weird?”

He sighed and continued to add food to his plate. “I’m not acting weird.”

As he moved to get a drink from the drink machine, you continued to follow him. “Did I do something wrong yesterday?” you gasped, holding a hand over your mouth as he still ignored you. “Did I kiss you? Dear god, I hope not—”

“No, you didn't,” he said quietly, walking back over to the table.

“Something must have happened, seonghwa—”

He stopped, nearly causing you to bump into his back. “Don't.” he paused, taking in a sharp breath, looking over his shoulder at you. “Don't say my name.”

You frowned in confusion, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked away. You couldn't remember your antics yesterday, but maybe you made him uncomfortable by sleeping nearly naked—he hated you, so you could only imagine how irritated he was.

“Listen, if it was because I was naked, I'm sorry—” 

Everyone at the table looked up as you spoke, including seonghwa. He looked shy, a blush on his cheeks, and he sat down quickly and stuffed the muffin in his mouth.

“Naked?” Mingi laughed, looking from you to seonghwa suggestively. “Sounds awfully smutty, Seonghwa.”

“We didn't—” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “Nothing happened with us.”

“Mhm, okay,” San smirked. “Whatever you say. Anyway, we have a whole day out planned, so you two better get back to your normal selves or we won't have any fun.”

You really needed to talk to seonghwa, but it seemed like you'll be busy the whole day with the boys—and he didn't seem to be very interested in talking to you, anyway.

You tilted your head in curiosity. 

“What are we doing?”

—

The day was eventful.

First, you went to the beach. Seemed innocent, until Seonghwa took off his shirt and got all soaking wet, sending you in a mess of thoughts and a mess below. He would look over at you, and wouldn't look away, paying intense attention to your body in a skimpy little bikini. 

When you went to talk to him, he body-slammed you into the ocean, and normally you would've fumed, but this time, you enjoyed his hands on your bare skin. 

After the beach, you walked along the boardwalk of shops and lots of food. You grabbed a popsicle, licking it without a thought, but when you felt an intense pressure on you, you looked over to see seonghwa looking at you with an expression you've never seen on him. His eyes were focused on your lips, his own lips curled up as he bit them. You continued to eat your popsicle, but couldn't stop looking at him.

When you tried to bring up last night, Hongjoong came over and took the rest of your pop, running away from you like a child.

At dinner, you sat at the far end of the table, as far away as possible from Seonghwa. It wasn't intended, but now there was no way you could talk, as everyone would hear your conversation.

You ate, feeling defeated. Maybe you should just forget about it.

It was still daylight after dinner. As the guys conversed about what to do next, San and Wooyoung decided to go their own way and walk the beach, which was just their code word for “shopping” for girls. Hongjoong agreed with them, shocking you since he was always hell-bent on not going off a schedule. You assumed he was just going to meet that girl he was with yesterday, but whatever, it just meant that you could be left alone with Seonghwa.

After those three left, it was only you, Seonghwa, and Mingi. Hwa stood with his hands in his pockets, awkwardly looking around as you stood outside the restaurant. Mingi was even more awkward, looking at you before speaking.

“Um, I’m just gonna go with Woo and San, so,” he breathed, looking to seonghwa now. “I’ll see you guys back at the hotel tonight.”

“Okay, Mingi,” you smiled. “See you later.”

You watched him leave and then looked at the boy standing next to you.

“So,” you tried to initiate conversation, but seonghwa started walking in the opposite direction from where everyone else went. You followed. “What should we do?”

“I’m going surfing,” he said blandly. “I don't know about you, though.”

“I’ll come with you,” you smiled, finally catching up to him. He let out an aggravated groan as you walked close to him. “Do you even know how to surf?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, of course, I do.” 

“I’m just saying,” you noted, shrugging as you followed him. “You’re too….dainty. I feel like if you fell off you’d break every bone in your body.”

Seonghwa didn't react in any way you were hoping he would. Instead, he kept walking silently, until you reached the part of the beach where the surf shack was. Wetsuits were laid out, ready to be picked up, and surfboards stood tall through the sand and against the building. You stared in awe as you approached, seeing that there was no one else here but you two.

Finally, alone at last. 

“Grab a suit if you’re gonna do this,” he pointed to them, raising an eyebrow when you stood there anxiously. “What? Don't you know how to surf?” he mocked.

You kicked at the sand, your hands behind your back. “Pff. yeah, of course, I….no. I don't.” you pleaded with your eyes sweetly, despite all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him. “Could you please teach me? Pretty please?”

He held his own suit close to his chest as he looked down at you. “Why should I?”

You stepped closer to him, causing him to step back cautiously. “Because I’m pretty?”

“Oh honey, who lied to you?” he joked.

“Please, Seonghwa?” you stressed his name, hoping to break him. You watched his eye twitch as you said it, reminding you of earlier when he told you not to say his name.

“Seonghwa seonghwa seonghwa seong—”

“Okay, fine! Jeez,” he huffed, tossing you a suit, only for it to hit you in the face. “Get dressed.”

You walked into the shack with him, going your separate ways at the locker rooms. Everything went smoothly until you tried to zipper the suit up, only being able to get it halfway. You pondered on asking seonghwa for help or completely turning into a contortionist, but after failing to do it yourself, you gave up and left the room to ask him.

Seonghwa stood amongst the surfboards, his lean body looking delicious in that surf suit. You nearly drooled looking at him.

“Hey,” you started, slowly approaching him as he picked out a board. “Can you help me zipper this?”

He turned to you, his expression conflicted as he saw you. You turned around, showing your exposed back, causing him to clear his throat. “O..okay.”

His delicate fingers brushed against the skin of your back, nearly causing you to shiver. You felt his breath hit the back of your neck as the zipper moved up and up until he zipped it completely.

“....There,” he said, swallowing. “You’re all good.”

He didn't move his hands until you pulled away from him, turning back around to face him. The silence was deafening, so you decided to break it.

“Seonghwa, about last night, what exactly happened—”

“Let’s just get started before the sun goes down,” he interrupted, looking anywhere but your eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

That was good enough for now. You watched him try to pick out a board, but he seemed extremely nervous. After a good bit of time, he grabbed a pink one, causing you to smile. Pink suited him so much, more than he’d probably like to admit.

“Let’s start with some basics,” he spoke smoothly, tossing the board down onto the sand. “Get on it. On your stomach.”

You lay down on the board, looking up at him for more directions. He taught you how to paddle with your arms, explaining that you'll have to dive under the waves sometimes if you were okay with doing that. You couldn't look weak now, especially not to him. So after the little training lesson, you were finally in the shallow water, sand already in every nook and cranny of you.

“Try to keep balance,” he said, his voice raspy. It wasn't the time to turn you on, but of course, he could do it just by his voice. “Keep your chest up.” his hand caressed your back, down your spine.

You looked up at him, his wet hair dripping down his face. You held back, as much as you could, from pouncing on him.

But when you fell off the board and got stuck underwater, you’ve never seen him so concerned before.

He grabbed you under your arms, pulling you back up and holding him to you while you coughed. You were perfectly fine—maybe a little too much water in the ears, but it was the least of your worries. What you cared about was the look on his face and the way he caged you to his body.

“y/n?” he rushed his hand over your face, pushing away your drenched hair so he could see you. “Are you okay?”

You coughed, blinking away the salt that infiltrated your eyes. Seonghwa noticed your distress and gently rubbed your face with the pad of his thumb. 

“Don't rub your eyes,” he pushed your hand away, still not letting you go from his embrace. “You'll make it worse.”

“It hurts,” you mumbled, causing his look of worry to worsen. True, the salt started burning your eyes, but you couldn't get enough of his caring touch—maybe because he’s never shown this side of himself to you.

He took in an anxious breath as he looked around. “Maybe we should get back to the hotel,” he spoke softly, the sound of water filling your senses as you looked at him. 

Everything about his appearance aggravated you—from the way his midnight hair draped his face, dripping with water down his cheeks, to the way his normally judgemental eyes seemed gentle and sweet. He looked kind, the type of man who would worship his lover like a queen, and all the time knowing him, you tried your hardest to only see him in a negative light.

Now, as he held you in the cold, sparkling ocean as the sun was setting, all you saw was your reflection in his eyes and all you felt was the undeniable pull to be with him. To touch him. To kiss him. To tell him that maybe, just maybe, you’ve always had a piece of him in your heart.

“Seonghwa, I…” you paused, ignoring the burn from the salt water. You watched his lips as they slowly parted, his eyes wide as he picked you apart. They looked at you differently, like they never looked at you before, and you wanted him to never stop looking at you. 

The distance between the two of you was nonexistent—you saw every drop of water on his skin, and you were certain he was able to gather the meaning behind your gaze. If he did, he didn't say anything—he only looked back at you with those entrancing irises of his, a look you’ve never seen from him. He waited patiently for you to finish your sentence, but you had nothing else to say.

As your lips neared his, you heard his breath get caught in his throat, and you felt his embrace tighten around you. You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling, hoping that he would be the one to lean in and meet your lips.

He didn't. 

Instead, his hands trailed down your back, the pink surfboard still floating next to you despite being forgotten. His breath was shaky as he touched you, but the moment ended too quickly as he shook himself out of his trance.

“I um, we should, you know,” he nodded towards the beach, even though you weren't too far out. “We should get back to the room.”

You slowly blinked at him, watching his expression stay the same despite the change of mind. He coughed, letting go of you, but then he grabbed your hand and the board before pulling you to shore.

The walk back was quiet. He didn't let go of your hand until you got back to the surf shack, and he reluctantly let go knowing you had to change.

You both were silent as you looked at each other, but the ache in your chest convinced you to break this tension.

Before you entered the changing room, you quickly turned back around to face seonghwa, who still stood with that….sex-charged expression on his face.

“….Stop looking at me like that,” you hummed, your chest heavy as he breathed in deeply. He looked at you with those bedroom eyes of his, half of his wetsuit already off. He looked deadly, which didn't help your desire.

He swallowed hard but tried his best to remain calm. “Like what?”

You took a step closer, reaching back to your zipper to pull it down just a little. You shrugged it down your bare shoulders, making sure he got to know that there was nothing else but you under that wetsuit once again.

And when you got as close as you could, you said the words you knew would be life or death for him. 

“Like you want to fuck me,” you shrugged, acting all cool even though you were falling apart by the second. You were lucky you were at the surf shack at such a late time of day, and that no one else was here except you. 

He choked on air, stepping away from you until his back hit the wall. You noticed how his chest rose and fell as he breathed in, and how delicious it would be to just lick him all over….

“I…” he gulped, but his eyes lingered on your shoulders and the curve of your breasts. “I don't know what you mean?”

You smiled through your haze, mind focused on getting to the bottom of his sudden change of attitude towards you. You reached out, gently guiding your hand down the plain of his chest, down his slim, but muscular waist. Oh, you couldn't get enough of him already.

You smirked. “Then tell me why you’ve been eye fucking me all day, or at least what happened last night, so I can understand.”

He blinked fast, looking from your lips, down your neck, to your bare shoulders. 

“You…” he took in a sharp breath as your hands trailed down his body. “You sleeptalk.”

“I know that already,” you whispered, looking into his captivating gaze. 

He leaned forward slightly, veins popping in his neck as he strained against his judgment. “I mean, you…kept moaning my name. I…I couldn't take it anymore….I can't take it anymore. Every time you speak I just want to fucking shut you up with my mouth for fucks sake.” he huffed, subconsciously gripping your hips as he grits his teeth. “You so annoying, so damn annoying, I can't—”

“Then take me,” you spoke against his lips. “Fuck me. Just like you did in my dreams.”

His forehead pressed against yours as you pushed him further against the wall.

“And how did I do that?” he growled, his fingertips tugging at your wetsuit. “Was I rough? Gentle?” he paused, lips pressed to your neck. “Did I make you say my name, or was that all you with that filthy little mouth of yours?”

You couldn't speak as his lips glided down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked on the skin there, roughly, causing you to suck in a sharp breath and run your hands through his dripping-wet hair.

You moaned, biting his earlobe. “I want you to tear me apart.”

He smirked against your skin, his eyes finally meeting yours. 

“Rough it is, then.”

Without warning, he bit his lip hard as he pulled your wetsuit right down to your ankles, the water from his hair dripping onto your bare shoulders. He nearly growled as you stood in front of him, naked as ever, his gaze darkening before gripping the back of your neck to pull you to him.

As he sucked on your neck, you pulled down his suit with aggression, not quick enough for the hunger in both of your souls. His hot breath tickled your skin, his hands clawed at your hips, and his lips begged to kiss yours as you shoved him against the wall once again, skin on skin. He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing from your breasts to your waist, to your lips.

You gripped onto his hair, staring into his eyes for a moment before you locked your lips with his, tasting the saltiness of the ocean and the sweet warmth of his saliva. Your tongues fought for their lives, dancing as you deepened the kiss. Foreheads slamming, hands invading space. It was all over for your sanity the minute his long fingers glided against your core, his middle finger finding your clit and rubbing gently. His kisses were rough as his fingers delicately touched you, fueling the fire within you even more than it already was.

“Seonghwa,” you moaned against his ear, causing him to move his hand faster with a grunt. “Push them in me.”

He hissed, his eyes rolling back into his head as he pulled his hands away for a moment, only to suck his fingers in front of you before shoving them into you, curling them up inside you. You arched your back against him, crying out as his lips found yours once again.

He kissed you deeply as he made love to you with his hands, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside of you—but it wasn't enough. You bit his lip sharply as he fingered you, causing him to hiss in pleasure. “I need your cock in me. Now.” you licked his jawline, watching him squirm in your embrace. 

His cheeks were flushed red as he looked at you, his eyes looking as if he were intoxicated. “I…fuck,” he sucked in a breath, kissing you as his fingers moved faster and faster. “Okay.” 

As he pulled his fingers out of you, he licked them once more, his eyes on yours seductively. 

“You taste so good.” he moaned, his mouth parted. He then lifted you up, walking you over to the table of waxed surfboards in the middle of the room. Shoving everything off with one hand, he threw you onto the wood, causing you to let out a little grunt.

“You’re so sexy,” he leaned over you, slamming your hands above your head before silencing your moans with a rough kiss. “So fucking sexy, you have no idea how long I wanted to shove my dick inside you.” His words were like gasoline to your fire, causing you to cry out in a whimper for him to do exactly what he said he would do. You kept your mouth shut as he tugged you to the edge of the table, lining up his hard-on to enter you.

After a look of longing, he spit onto his fingers and rubbed them onto his cock and your heat, his chest falling and rising with his heavy breathing. He then buried himself inside you, deeply, causing your breath to hitch. He was even bigger than your dreams, tearing apart your expectations of his skills. You tried your best to free your arms from his hold, but as he moved in and out of you, you had lost the desire to escape it. You really liked the feeling of his fingernails tearing into your skin.

“Ah,” he whimpered, his hips rocking quickly, his eyes shut tight. His thrusts were deep, not slowing down for a second.

Your legs curled around his shoulders, his one arm holding your hands and his other piercing into your ankle. He grunted as he pumped into you, tearing at your insides, feeling him fill you up. “Hwa,” you groaned, back arching in pleasure. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He grunted in response, speeding up faster as his hips slammed into yours. You felt him quiver inside you, precum dripping into you without a care. You loved the feeling, you didn't care about the risks in the moment. 

You climaxed without warning, your legs tightening around his head. He kept muttering your name over and over again against you, kissing the skin of your ankles as he continued to fuck the living shit out of you. You started to see stars as he nearly cracked your spine, and right before he nearly came, he flipped you over onto your stomach without ever leaving you.

Your face was shoved against the wood of the table, the sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses. You cried out his name as he gripped onto your hips, moving faster as his own orgasm came close. His lips met the small of your back, his fingers gripped your ass with haste. 

“I’m going to come,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “Can I come in you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Come inside me.”

As if your words stirred something within him, he immediately moved in shorter movements, his grip on your ass tightening as his orgasm came. His breathing shallowed as he came into you, filling you up with his cum. You let out one last moan as you felt his warmth, and he kissed the back of your neck as he finished.

He pulled out of you slowly despite how rough he was—he could've been rougher, but you didn't want him to think of you as the insane slut everyone thought you were.

Even though you only ever slept with others because you couldn't have him.

And now…..what comes next?

He helped you sit back up to a normal position, and when he saw the dark, purple bruises on your neck and collarbone, he gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry,” his fingers gently brushed against your hot skin as if he didn't just totally destroy you. “I kind of….went crazy, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him in a daze, both your cheeks blushed in embarrassment and enjoyment. “I like crazy.”

He paused, standing proudly in front of you with that delicious body of his. You sighed in contentment, a lazy smile on your lips. “I dreamt of this. Literally.” you reached out to him, pulling his lips down to yours. He kissed them softly, opening his mouth wide as he made out with you. You didn't want to pull away, but as the thought of you both having sex in a public surf shack came to your mind, you pulled away quickly, startling him.

“Um, so,” you laughed awkwardly. “Should we head back now? We are kind of in a public place….”

Seonghwa looked around, smirking as he leaned forward on the table, kissing you once more. “It was kind of thrilling, not gonna lie.”

You leaned into his embrace, his hands caressing your back romantically. “So,” you whispered against his lips. “We should get back. And this time, you better sleep in the bed with me.”

“Oh, baby, I plan on doing more than just sleeping.”

—

After countless rounds of ‘sleeping’, you ended up waking up late in Seonghwa’s embrace, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder as he held you. He quite literally rocked you all night long, and you even discovered his love for reverse cowgirl—making him come within two minutes of the fifth round.

Now, as you lay in his arms while he slept, you finally felt content. He was all you ever wanted, even though your words said otherwise this whole time of knowing him.

“Hey,” you turned around in his embrace, pressing your lips against his forehead. “Seonghwa.”

“Hm?” he grumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking open to meet yours. 

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “We should get up. The others are probably waiting for us in the lobby.”

“Ugh, why?” he groaned, holding onto you tighter. “ I don't want to leave this bed today. Or ever.”

You giggled, pecking his lips. “Come on, Hwa. I really would like to get a tan on the sand today.”

His eyes were wide open now, but he blinked slowly from his sleepiness. “We barely got any sleep,” he huffed, shoving his head into your shoulder. “And I can't kiss you in front of everyone, I can't wait the whole day to touch you.”

You grinned chaotically.

“Who says we have to hide it?”

—

“Dear lord,” Wooyoung huffed, sitting with his arms crossed at the beach. “Are they ever going to stop and come up for air?”

Your friends sat on towels on the sand, while you sat on Seonghwa’s lap as you made out with him. His hands gripped your face as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, both of you having no care for those around you. 

“I knew this was going to happen,” San mumbled with a smirk, elbowing Wooyoung playfully. “Just let them have their fun. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Pfft,” Woo scoffed, looking at how seonghwa touched you.

 “I always thought I would be the one tapping that.”

“Wooyoung shut the fuck up.”

[serendipityunho]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 | 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Genre: enemies to lovers au, smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers au Pairing: fuckboy(ish)!Seonghwa x Reader (fem.) a/n: masterlist coming soon since this consists of ten chapters, meaning this is going to either end in sunshine and rainbows or misery and tears.

“You may be the one heartbroken, but don’t you ever forget who made you the happiest you’ve ever been these past few months. Don’t you DARE forget that I was the one who stayed by your side when everyone left you behind. Because I never forget about the people that cared for me the most...” the passion behind your voice burned with a stream of salty tears flowing down your face. The longer the silence Seonghwa paid you, the more it just hurts the back of your throat trying to control waves of tears.

“I’m sorry, you can’t heal a heart you didn’t break in the first place,” Seonghwa looked down at his feet with sorrow, leaving you speechless with what all he had to say.

“Because you’re not letting me! What kind of friend-” 

“We’re not friends.”

“What?” Your heart sunk at those words. Did these past six months mean nothing to him? 

“We were never friends. Just because you chose to do something for me, doesn’t mean we’re friends.” Seonghwa angered, raising his head to look at you with a frown, lips pressed tightly together as his fingers fiddled.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Get out,” Seonghwa interrupted, standing up from the couch across from you with eagerness. 

An endless rotation of emotions flushed throughout your body. Anger, resentment, regret. It made no sense how Seonghwa could say all those things with such ease, as if the two of you didn’t spend the entirety of your time together, happy.

“You know what, Seonghwa?” You stood your ground, staring at him dead in the eye with the same furrowed brows, suppressing the emotion that controlled your tears.

“No, I don’t want to hear it-” Seonghwa grabbed your arm before attempting to drag you to his door, disregarding what you were about to say.

“You love me don’t you?”

It was an endless silence, losing yourselves in the pools of each others eyes. Seonghwa’s grip on your arm softened as he stood there, aimlessly. There was a reason why he started pushing you away, you noticed the pattern during your time being friends with him. 

“I do.”

Copyright © 2022 serendipityunho All rights reserved

[locallixie]

once in a lifetime — seonghwa

[⚔️] — The Emperor killed you then, with a sharp slash of his sword to your neck like he thought you did to his heart. Revenge found itself behind the passing years, until you would meet again, in another life.

⇀ genre ; smut, mature, angst, suggestive, reincarnation au, historical au, modern au, school au, emperor!seonghwa, noble!reader, baseball captain!reader, lovers-to-enemies, past lovers, fem-to-masc!reader.

⇀ warnings ; dacryphillia, first time, praise kink, major character death, violence, slight gore, minor language, suggestive behaviour, marking, weapons usage, execution, misconduct, sexual assault.

⇀ word count ; 2.5k

There was an old saying, 'The beautiful usually have a bad fortune'. The Emperor already had an unmatched beauty, his face gleamed with charms of loyalty. His mistress, was like a Greek oil painting, there was a reason why he chose you over thousands and thousands of belles in the land.

You, an only child of your mother and father, the only daughter in the entire bloodline. Your father brought your family's name to nobility, with his wise and high social status as he spent years climbing the ladder. A noble, you were, a blessed life you were given since birth.

Your family was thrill when sending you into the palace, with the idea of taking a spot in the Emperor's heart. From just a plain noble, you would bring great honour to your family by becoming something more. You deserved so much more for being a gift from above to your parents.

You painted your lips a scarlet red, your eyebrows plucked and drawn, your cheeks was lightly blushed. You must admit, the beauty standard when using makeup was off when it came to you. It didn't enhance your beauty like its many uses, you looked better without having to paint your face like how artist painted their paintings with sorrow.

The palace was grand and enchanting as the words that were spread across the country. A line of women from everywhere, from the countryside, near the sea, the town. You stood still, patiently waiting for your turn to come.

The outfit you wore was a tradition, but it was a pain to wear it under the harsh sunlight, as it radiated brighter it got hotter. You were sweating in your attire, your makeup was slowly dripping off your face.

You groaned, wiping off the beads of sweat on your forehead. You weren't allow to tie your hair up, you were must to keep it down for the Emperor. Would this man even be worth your time, you understood that he was the Emperor of the whole country yet would he live up to his people's expectations and assumptions of him?

You were wise like that, always thinking and working out your thoughts. Unlike most people who only cared for the fortunate chances, they were quick to be disappointed.

By the time you reached the palace, the nightfall already visited. You stepped into the palace as stars and the luminous moon shone against your back. Though you weren't as excited to meet the Emperor as much as some young women was, your heart still beat fast in the enclosure that was your chest.

"Your highness, I am [Y/N] of the noble [L/N], it's the greatest blessing to be in your presence." You introduced, bowing on the floor to him.

The Emperor gazed at you with cold eyes, unimpressed by your existence. You looked up, face-to-face with him was scary for everyone, including you.

The Emperor turned to the side, "Maid, go fetch this poor maiden a bucket of water, her makeup is ruining my interest." You were in shock by his sudden sentence, offended but yet to show outwardly. Though he was handsome and full of grace, his mouth seemed to only spit out uncivil words.

The maid with her back weak and frail figure, dragged a heavy bucket full of river water in front of you. The water was cold, instantly numbed your fingers. Using your hands, you washed your face. Your reflection faded as the water became a dark and unpleasant colour. Now with nothing coated your face, bare and natural in front of the Emperor.

"You look so much better without anything caking your face. Your eyes, your lips, your nose are a sight to gaze at." He was captivated, by you no less. Your bare face was a first, your figure dressing up in traditional costume, your hair down and combed.

He stood up from his throne, walking to you. The distance in status clearly showed, how he stood tall and straight while looking down at you crouching self on the wood floor. You were a noble, just a noble.

Lowering himself to your level, he held your chin with his hand. Looking you up-and-down, right-to-left, closely studied your face.

He let out a sigh, "What a shame, you got a mole that tainted your beauty." Indeed, you was born with a mole on your nose bridge, which didn't highlight your features according to the standard. But everything have its pros and its cons, for you, was the mole on your face.

The Emperor smiled, "[Y/N], was it? You can call me 'Seonghwa', our paths will cross more than we expect." He gave his hand to you, wanting you to take it. You hesitated at first, not wanting to dirty his hand with your wet and stained ones from the makeup you cleaned yourself off.

But at how intimidating he looked, you couldn't seem to deny. He pulled you up, standing as his eyes couldn't look away from you. Walked away without another word, you stood still like statues, not knowing how to react or what to say. You turned around, meeting the sight of the Emperor sending everyone else away.

"You have charmed me, young maiden." He sat back on his throne, "Tell me, what are you looking for here?" Seonghwa questioned, full of unknown intentions.

You tilted your sight to the floor, "I...Right now I don't have an answer that would satisfy your wonder, but you will know the reason for my arrival some other time, my great."

"I suppose, very well then, go get clean up." He sent maids your way, "I'll be waiting for you in my chamber." The Emperor disappeared without another word, the scent of him that left behind as remembrance, the scent of blooming jasmine flower.

You followed the maids, it seemed like you would be spending the night here. Your family, you would miss. They guided you into the bathtub to bathe, the water that was cold touched your skin. One washed your hair, two cleaned your nails, three bathe you with their hands.

They draped your body with finest silk, wearing a nightgown many maidens dreamt of. A last outer layer they put on you, the sheer coat that dragged on the floor. In the mirror, you looked as if you were royalty.

Finally, they walked you to the Emperor's chamber, where he study and slumber. From then on, you were on your own. You knocked gently on his doors, too, knocking the doors to his heart.

A single word, told you to come in as it rang from the other side. Seonghwa sat on his bed, patiently waiting for your presence to enter his space. He looked up to find you, standing there looking all dolled up for him.

"Though I have seen and study many beauties of the world," He gazed in a sensuous sense. "I've never seen a beauty like you before." He complimented.

You bowed, "You're too kind, dear Emperor. I must humble myself before you." Your eyes showed full of warmth and welcome.

"My dear, come sit down beside me." He guided you, holding your hand softly as he pulled you closer. You sat down, not sure of what his next move was.

"Will you let the flower bloom tonight? Let the yourself be one with the stars?" He questioned, his eyes watched you intently, every little movement of yours was carefully examined by him. A hawk-like gaze, where his eyes gleamed with danger and poise, able to kill someone with a single glare of an eye.

You hesitated yet still gave him a answer, "Yes, I'll let you have all of me tonight, great Emperor." You would let him have you entirely, nothing else belong to you, you were his to love and toy.

Seonghwa smiled, "Splendid." He leveled you down, laying you on the bed.

"Please, be gentle." You whimpered out.

Seonghwa pulled the string the held your outer coat together, "My dear, I'll treat you like the most gorgeous flower in my garden." Your coat dropped, exposing your bare, scandalous shoulders. He pressed his lips on yours, holding it close as he moved against you. Soft and velvety, the adjective to accurately describe his lips. As he pushed his tongue in, teasing you with his teeth.

Another layer removed from your body, stripping you off completely as your wonderful figure excited him. Your curves, and naked skin, the scent of lavender of your clean figure.

He peppered marks claiming his possession over your, translated through love marks and bites. You moaned, lacing your fingers through his hair. The moonlight shone his chamber, peeking into the sight of two star-crossed lovers.

"My dear, you are what my life have been missing, it must be a blessing from above to receive a beaut like you." Seonghwa praised, kissing the mole on your nose bridge.

"I think the stars shine brighter when you came, my world never gain so much meaning as for it to seem so dull and repetitive." He placed his lips on your breasts, holding them in his hands.

You couldn't say anything, lost in the pleasure that you worked nothing to receive. Yet it felt so deserving, the Emperor's affection was your goal and you stole it without sympathy. Many would kill to be in your position, as the great Emperor Seonghwa was to help you bloom.

He entered you, your wet cunt clenching around him tight. His shoulders which you held and cried on, your voice rang all throughout the palace for everyone to be aware of.

"Seonghwa—! I—" You bled, the deep red like roses that dripped slowly. You finally lost your most precious thing, to the Emperor, he took it from you like plucking flowers in gardens.

Your tears slid down your flushed cheeks, the mix of pain and pleasure, a euphoria that felt guilty to love. "My dear, it would be all over soon." He told, kissing your temple as the beads of sweat trickled your whole body. Your heart pounding loudly as a janggu, beating against your chest a passionate drummer performing.

Your cunt pulsed, the ecstacy arose out of the blue. It moved from head to toes, you dug your nails into his back, crying his name 'til your throat was sore and tired. Reaching your high, you came in a pinkish mess of blood and seeds. His love spilling out of you, loving the wonderful expression on your pretty face. Your eyes half-lidded, a streak of blush spread across your face, lips parted.

He pecked your forehead, "Your heart is with me, and mine is with you."

Not quite noble but not yet Empress, you could be count as one of his mistress, you, he adored the most. You were special in his eyes, one of a kind. Both wise and beautiful, the ones above spoiled him with the existence that was you.

"My dear, you look breath-taking like always." He placed the hair pin through your hair, a gift to show his admiration for you. You were his absolute favourite. Life like this was like a dream, a dream that you never want to wake up from.

But how quick a dream turned into a nightmare, a wrongdoing that wasn't you who did it. The other mistresses sabotaged you, tainting the love the Emperor had for you. They were jealous, their jealousy burned like fire and the flames burned you.

"You disgusting harlot! You repulsed me!" He screamed, his frustration and wrath.

You cried, tears coated your pretty eyes. "You must hear my plead—" You tried, but immediately shut down by him.

"Hear you?! I have no reason to be listening a pathetic excuse from the likes of you!" How much he actually loved you, you would never know, the jealousy that blinded his sight. A claim so unjustified, made by selfish desires.

He ripped the sheer fabric that draped your skin, the unfamiliar article of clothing that angered him. "Is this what you sell yourself for?!" He torn your dress, everything was forcefully stripped off of your body. Naked and shameful before his presence, the Emperor left you crying and in distress.

Death was what to come, he stripped you off your own life as you were prepared for execution. The sharp blade stood menacingly in front of you, you tears reflected on its shiny surface. A slash through your neck, courtesy of the Emperor himself, you head flung off your neck leaving trail of blood. It rolled on the ground, an instant death.

Before your due date, you begged him to have mercy on you. On the floor crying below his feet. The love was false and forced by unnoticed, you never asked to meet him, you only did this for your family. The faith you must face was heart-tearing.

—

"Seonghwa! You're so slow, walk faster!" Hongjoong complained, already being ten steps away from him. He ran through the corridor, trying his best to keep up with his friend.

Seonghwa panicked, no trace of Hongjoong could be found, he was lost in this huge school. He wasn't a student here, Seonghwa went to a normal high school for people with medium income, he was only here to support his friends' new band.

Hongjoong, who was familiar with this place while not being a student, accompanied him. Now without his trustful guide, he was completely lost inside a large labyrinth called 'school'.

"Hongjoong! Hongjoong, where are you?" He furrowed his brows, still nothing, no reply, no Hongjoong. Walking for another while, searching for his friend, he came by a field of green grass. The sun was vibrant and blinding, he squinted his eyes as he gazed at its beauty. Then the blooming nature, so many colourful flowers that decorated the scenery. Seonghwa had a appreciation for beautiful things, people, nature, ideas.

He was knocked to the earth ground, falling on his backside. "Get out of the way!" A bat swung before his face, hitting the baseball that came flying at his direction.

He jumped, a baseball bat inches away from his face. "You must be fucking stupid to pull a stunt like that. Who are you, I've never seen you before?" A boy stood in front of him, the look in his eyes cold and uninviting.

You, the captain of the baseball team, was skilled in baseball like it should. Trained since you were little, having outstanding physical attributes and a fast reflex, you were popular with both girls and guys. Someone came and disturbed your team's practice, you were the one to dissolve the situation.

"I don't go here, I'm a friend of Choi San from year eleven." He answered, while you were skeptical of him.

A member of the team called you, you turned you head to the voice. That was when he saw it, a scar on your neck that was prominent and very visible. He knew who you were, but from where? From here? Or another life?

"Whoever you are, get lost and let my team practice in peace." You tightened the grip on your bat, walking away without another say. He huffed, of how rude you were acting. You were attractive but had a nasty personality, at least to his view. Especially like that mole on your nose, how it tainted and enhanced your beauty at the same time.

Once in a lifetime, you were lovers. Now you were nothing more than a couple of foes. He killed you then, now you would take your long awaited revenge.

[ballerinainskzville]

Improper affairs - Hyunjin one shot

Summary: after being on the front lines, Hyunjin, the heir of your enemy kingdom, makes his first public appearance since his return. Hyunjin who’s also to blame for making your affair with him public.

“Y/N, people are looking! Stop that!”, your older sister, the heir to the throne of Kingdom Meawath swats your arm.

“Let them. The only good thing about this corset is that it makes my chest extra perky”, you grinned at your older sister. Her eyes behind the golden mask narrowed and she shook her head. “You seriously spend too much time with the maiden’s sons growing up”, she just commented.

“Felix and Han had more fun up their pinky than you ever could have in your whole body. Sorry, my grace”, you mumbled and looked away from your sister, looking around the ballroom for familiar faces behind the masks. This masked ball was to formally announce the engagement of your sister to the heir of the kingdom Jonasya, the handsome prince Bangchan. He had visited your kingdom multiple times before and was the best match you could have wished for your sister.

“May I have this dance with you, your grace?”, a voice grabbed your attention and you looked at the owner of the voice, a tall boy standing in front of you. “Oh, prince San. It’s so nice to see you again”, your sister exclaimed. Your spine straightened and you smiled eagerly, slipping your gloved hand into San’s. San was the second son of the kingdom of Aleleria, your neighboring kingdom. And he was also your childhood crush. Which your sister was aware of.

San led you to the dance floor, joining the other dancing couples. “I had no idea that you’re already back from the fronts. You didn’t write that you’d return soon”, you said as you began to turn, walking the steps among the line of girls. San’s smile widened as he followed the moves. “We wouldn’t have returned soon if Hyunjin and his troops didn’t come in time”

Hyunjin.

Prince Hyunjin, the heir of Haleweth.

Your enemy kingdom.

Haleweth was the only kingdom that didn’t go along well with the rest of the kingdoms.

Prince Hyunjin was the sole heir to the most powerful kingdom. Prince Hyunjin who had been your first in so many ways.

Your first kiss.

Your first scandal.

Your first person who warmed your bed.

Your enemy.

He had used you.

He had toyed with your emotions and lurked you into his trap only to let you slam into the cement of public shame when people found out. To let the people talk about your improper behavior of adultery instead of the growing commotions in his court.

And you hated him for it.

As much as your heart had longed for him, all the blooming feelings were replaced with fuming hatred and you feared being forced into a marriage with him to save your reputation. But then problems on the fronts shook the attention of the kingdom and gossip and talks had died down. Along with them the possibility of an arranged marriage between you two. You had been sent into exile by the request of your father until talks in your court also stopped and this was your first public appearance in over a year.

People had been talking left and right but San was treating you the same. You were the same girl you had been before everything went down.

“I’m glad to see that you made it back home safe. And that you were successful too”, you told him.

“It’s only thanks to the strategic leading of Hyunjin. He saved our lives out there”, San replied.

Hyunjin here, Hyunjin there.

Could there be one day when you didn’t hear that infuriating name?

“May I steal your partner, San?”, a voice cut you off in your spin, and you ended up in the arms of-

“Hyunjin?”

“Y/N”, he grinned down at you with his cocky attitude.

“Get lost, you disgust me.”, you hissed through your teeth, still following the dance steps as you were in the middle of the dance, all guests watching you. You felt the pairs of eyes glued on your skin.

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you”, he whispered and his hand slowly moved up from your lower hip, his fingers tracing the silhouette of your body.

“I mean it. You had your fun, go find another doll to break”, you purposely stomped on his feet in the dance and he suck in a breath.

“Did you do this on purpose, your grace?”, he pinned you.

“You’re the smart one, you tell me. But no, keep it to yourself. I don’t ever want to see you again”, you bumped his shoulder as you walked away from the dance floor. Out of the ballroom. Just away from the people. From him. Once you arrived at a staircase, you stopped, heaving heavily. You couldn’t properly breathe with your corset, it was too tight. Your vision blurred as the humiliation crept up your throat, how dare he just dance with you after all the pain he caused you? It was always the girls that were blamed to fall into the sin of passion, never the man. His reputation was barely scratched whereas yours was tainted, ruined. It took you a lot of convincing of your father not to be married off in secret to an older noble widow man.

“This is all because of him”, you choked out with tears, trying to reach for the straps of your corset. Your fingers trembled as they couldn’t get a hold of the straps. “I’m going to murder him, I swear I will”, you sobbed, holding onto the rail of the stairs case as the tears began to roll down your face. Everything was too tight, too dark, too much.

Suddenly the tightness around your chest began to loosen and your lungs filled with air. Did the corset magically fall apart? “You’re dreaming of murdering me, huh?”, a voice walked over the exposed skin off your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“You can go back to the front lines and die, I couldn’t care less. I’d celebrate it when they would announce that you have passed”, you whispered, your back still facing Hyunjin. He had followed you. Has he witnessed you breaking down? You wiped away the wetness of your cheeks, your mask covering up the smeared makeup around your eyes.

“Such a wicked pretty mouth you have. Let me see it”, his hand caressed the side of your waist. Hyunjin had loosened the straps of your corset, you now realize.

Could you aim a perfect punch into his gut if you turned around? You had the urge to do so, even if you never raised your hand before.

“Y/N”, he called out and took a step closer.

You turned around and faced him. You refused to turn small in front of him, he had taken away from you.

“Why did you follow me?”, you looked into his strikingly gorgeous face. He had a scar on his eyebrow. There was no other evidence that he had been in battle.

“Why did you dance with San?”, he asked in return, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why do you even care? You made it clear what your intentions were with me. San at least has good intentions and doesn’t care about my reputation of mine”, you spat out.

“I had to manage my court”, he simply said. With no remorse or regret.

“Go manage your court affairs somewhere else, I have no interest in being part of your play”, you took a step back off the stairs but Hyunjin’s arm shot out, holding your wrist.

“Let.me.go.”

“No”

“Your grace, be kind enough to let me walk away with some dignity”, you glared at him through your mask.

“Never knew you were aware that kind words existed too, Y/N”, he said and reached out with his other hand, taking down your mask. Exposing the vulnerability of your emotions to him.

“Lying is easy when it comes to you but you should know it better, Hyunjin”, you rolled your eyes and looked away. He stood there silent and instead took a step down, closing the space between you two.

You could hear the fading sounds of the ball in the background but his close presence dizzied you. You hated it. You hated him.

“Did I tell you how much I hate you?”, you breathed out as his fingers again trailed down the side of your waist, settling on your hip. “Tell me each wicked word you think of when you think of me, Y/N”, he said and leaned in, stopping mere inches before your lips.

“We shouldn’t be here”, you whispered barely.

“I know”, he breathed out.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”, you gripped his belt to steady yourself.

“I know”, he murmured before both your lips met.

[lilhwahwa]

heart swindler - J.WY (Part 1)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ part 1: Moving back to a capital city seemed exciting enough but it also brings competition in your field. You work hard to provide for you and your nephew but business is harsh and your rival, Wooyoung seems to be having a streak of good luck. Wooyoung’s streak was not your only problem as you find yourself bumping into strange a man at the club, you have a feeling it is not the last time you’ll be seeing him either. 

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Female Pronouns Conwoman reader! x Conman Wooyoung! Enemies to Lovers. Angst. Fluff. Smut.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ smut themes in the future parts. Mentions of drug abuse. Abusive parenting. Violence. Bi? Wooyoung? Stalking. Slowburn!. Conning? More to be added... This is fiction and does not represent the real idol.

words: 7.8K

tags: @bl3ss3d-curs3d​ @mayosgrises​ @k-queen​ 

MASTERLIST

---

The night club was jam packed this Saturday night. You could recognize some rap song blasting through the bass-boosted speakers, blurring out the sounds of people around you. The clubs in the central area had no motivation in making a good mix for the night, rather re-using anything that could be considered loud and sexual enough.

At least the bass is alright here you thought as your eyes scan over the crowded dance floor from a balcony on the second floor. Some nights you felt like a hawk hunting for prey. Your eyes had been trained to see through the sharp strobing lights which helped you speed things up.

There were often times you wondered what name to put to your career. Some people from your past would scream conwoman…

Your eyes scan the gray and black newspaper as a small smirk spreads over your lips.

“Young woman conned man out of half a million dollars, read page five”

You quickly flip the light pages of the newspaper before landing on the page where you were met with the pathetic face of the said man. Asshole, he was the one who offered you the money anyway. That job was way too easy. He only went crying about being conned after his poor wife had received the anonymous message from you to her phone;

Anonymous: This is how much your husband loves you *image*.

You admit, that move was a little too asshole-ish even for you. Usually you would keep out of your target’s private life but it was simply sweet karma after hearing the bastard speak degradingly of his wife who had fallen ill and been hospitalized. The audacity men have. Damn you could even say you took some pity on her. That’s how you justified sending the video of him on his knees in front of you, worshiping you as if you are some greek goddess.

Anytime now…you thought and the loud chime of your phone ran through the luxurious hotel room just a few seconds later. You smirk and reach over to answer.

“Hey there sweetheart” you tease, holding the phone up to your ear as your eyes wander over the artwork hanging on the walls in the room. Many of them portrayed naked lovers, making you roll your eyes at the stereotypical art. You don’t even flinch as a loud voice curses you on the other side.

“I will kill you, you fucking bitch. You ruined my marriage- my career! I trusted a fucking conwoman” the older man that had so unfourtnarely been your previous target, curses in disbelief.

The words didn’t affect you anymore, hell you were in the luxurious hotel room thanks to his money to begin with, he could curse you all he wanted.

“Well, learn not to fuck women other than your wife, thought I doubt she will let you near her again” you replied with a dry chukle, hanging up to block the number. Time to change phones…

Other times people recognized you simply as a tactful business woman who occasionally used men for money. You usually prefer this title anyway.

LUX, which was the name of the club you had settled on for tonight, was one of your favorites. It has beautiful architecture with many well-built bars spanning over three different levels, but that was not why you liked it so much. Neither did you really care about the club’s entertainment which consisted of half-naked girls dancing on poles spread around the first floor.

The reason LUX was your favorite was rather obvious. Anybody who entered, either had straight connections to the owner or was packed with millions. Both of those options ultimately meant that most men in attendance could give you what you were looking for; money.

Hongjoong, the owner of the place, allowed you to do business in the club in exchange for a friendly percentage. While you normally shrink away at the idea of sharing your profits, you have to remind yourself that without him you wouldn't even have access to a place like LUX.  

After what felt like hours, you spot a man sitting alone on a bar stool on the first floor. White button down shirt, a golden watch on his left wrist that reflected off the strobing lights and a half empty drink. Perfect.

Time to act. You make your way down the spiraling staircase that connects the three floors at LUX. You feel the blood being squeezed out of your feet thanks to the tight high heels you wore. They were at least a size too small, but you were determined to show off the fancy brand in hopes of catching attention. You suck it up and soften your mischievous expression into a softer, more innocent look. Men and their pathetic instinct to act as protective heroes.

You make your way over to the first-floor bar, not too close to the target you had picked out. Only a few seats were taken by the counter, most people having found a dance partner for tonight.

It was obvious when people turned their heads as you walked past and you had to keep yourself from smirking at the fact. At least with the act you were putting on.

You lean over the bar right to the side of the man who was sitting by himself, looking around as if trying to look for the bartender who was not present. Sighing dramatically, you look over at the man only to find he had acknowledged your presence.

With pouty lips and knitted eyebrows you wait for him to give you a friendly smile before moving closer.

“Excuse me, would you happen to have a phone charger? My friend left me here on my own and my phone has run out of battery” you offer a crooked smile, hoping he’d fall right in your trap.

Up-close, your target looked to be in his late thirties. This category was either a hit or miss. Some were too aware of your antics from earlier experiences, some totally oblivious.

The man ran a hand through his slicked back, brown hair, dimples popping as he smiled and leaned closer to yell over the blasting music.

“I don’t, but you could borrow my phone?” he suggested and you rolled your eyes in your head. You were rather impatient tonight, your last payment had been longer than two months ago and your savings account was drying out.

“Oh, I can’t remember the number though and she has my purse too- oh lord how will I get home?” You sound alarmed, acting panicked as you start glancing around the room, fingers intertwining as you fiddle in front or your victim who frowned with worry.

“Look dear, maybe I could just call you a taxi back home? And tomorrow you could meet up with your friend?” The stranger suggests. His intentions were nice for sure, but he didn’t seem to glance down at your red dress even once since you approached him.

“Would you do that? You are-” you begin with an innocent smile before somebody steps closer to you, shifting to stand between you and the stranger.

“-I’m back. Ready to go, pretty?” the voice makes you freeze. You clench your jaw to keep composure and not lose your shit in front of the whole club. The voice laced with honey belonged to someone you were more than familiar with.

You look up and lock eyes with him. Jung Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, who’s jet black hair now was dyed a shade of platinum blonde, looks down at you with his plump lips lifted into a signature smirk. He was well aware of what he had just done, and undoubtedly took great pride in interrupting your attempts at his target.

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, lacing it with spite that you were certain he could feel even if telepathy wasn’t a thing.

The man to your side stands up from his seat and smiles shyly, looking down at you as he hovers tall.

Pick somebody your height, asshole, you mutter in your head, wishing that Wooyoung would somehow hear it.

“I am afraid I have to leave, good luck getting home darling” the man comments politely as Wooyoung wraps an arm around the man’s waist. The men walk off towards the staircase and you could only imagine Wooyoung had the third floor full of private VIP rooms in mind.

Before disappearing out of your sight, Wooyoung glances over his shoulder at you with a mischievous smirk, shooting you a wink. You cock an eyebrow at him before flipping him off, middle finger adorned by the diamond your last target had been fooled into buying. It was always a game of show off between people who did what you did. And Wooyoung was one undoubtedly one of the best, to your dismay.

You take a seat on the barstool, slouching over as you decide to give up for the night. Truth be told, you were getting tired of this business. Having sleazy and naive men give you money was one thing, but entertaining them had slowly been eating away at your nerves and patience over the past year.

While the benefits of a successful job looked extravagant to anybody on the outside, the endless nights of guilt and feeling dirty after a job was not something one can ever be prepared for.

“The usual, bullet?” the bartender snaps you out of your thoughts by calling your nickname. You made sure that nobody ever found out your true identity. Switching names, ID’s and phones often to ensure the feds always were a step behind you.

You smile bitterly at the bartender and nod. It was alright, you thought. The weekend wasn’t over just yet.

~

The following night you are bending closer to the mirror as you trace the tip of a red lipstick over your lips as a finishing touch for tonight’s look. You made sure to switch up dresses, not wanting to risk being seen in the previous night’s outfit. The high heels from yesterday were switched for chunkier thigh-high boots, which complimented your black dress.

The dress in question was what one could call a lucky charm. You have been able to secure many deals whenever wearing it, hence why you created the belief that it would somehow make you luckier and keep you safe. Whatever the science behind such beliefs was, you just needed something to keep adding fuel to your hopes for the night. Tonight was Sunday, the last day of the weekend and your last chance of the week to secure a deal that would ensure stability for the upcoming future.

Honestly, you did not really give a shit about how you’d end up surviving a month without a deal. You could crash at an acquaintance's place. Or get some quick cash by selling a designer bag or two. But as your eyes meet a pair of soft, brown ones staring right at you through the full-body mirror, you are suddenly reminded of the reason why you keep trying.

You turn around, eyes landing on the young boy sitting at the edge of the hotel-room bed. The child was watching you get ready in silence, never interrupting or questioning what for.

“Y/n, do you really have to leave tonight too?” Jisung mumbles, looking down at his chubby fingers as they impatiently roll and fiddle over one another. You stay silent, gaze shifting to notice how he was growing nervous by the way his feet swung and hit the edge of the bed or the way his lips twisted outwards into a pout.

With a sigh, you take a seat beside him on the soft bed. Your hand reaches to grab his smaller one, squeezing it in reassurance. Although Jisung had just turned six, he was a lot smarter than most kids his age. He knew that the life you both lived was not ideal and he was humble and never took things for granted when you managed to bring in a lot of money.

You remembered how tiny he was when your sister first brought him over. She had taken something again, you weren’t sure what but her addiction seemed to grow stronger. The excuses of being busy or tired and needing help taking care of her only son, Jisung, only rolled in as soon as she had gotten a glance of you being responsible enough to take care of him. You were barely an adult when that happened, having to take care of a child throughout your late teens was not something you desired either. Shivers still run down your spine when you remember the night Jisung was to move in with you.

“Auntie? Can you please come get me? Mommy is scaring me” a tiny, familiar voice whispers. You were barely awake, eyes stinging as you lifted your phone from your ear, the bright screen blinding your sleepy eyes. You weren’t sure if you were dreaming still, your body engulfed by the warm and heavy blanket in your bed.

“H-hello?” Jisung whispered again and you finally realized that it was no dream. You were on a call.

You glance over to your night stand, the time reading 1:22AM and you wonder why Jisung was awake at such a time. And most importantly, how did he manage to call you using your sister’s phone?

“Hey buddy, what happened? What is mommy doing?” you ask gently, trying to mask your scratchy morning voice to not scare him further. Truth be told, as soon as the words “mommy” left his lips you could guess what this would be about, but you surely were not prepared for it to be as severe as it ended up being.

“Mommy is- mommy said she has to free me. She said I could meet daddy in heaven if I let her” he whispers, as if the call to you was a secret. As if he was hiding. “-And I wanna see daddy but mommy has a knife and I remember auntie said I can’t touch a knife” although he stumbled over his words and grammar, you did not need any clarification. You sit up in bed, throwing the covers off your body with such force that they end up on the floor. Never in your life had your heart dropped through your whole body so fast and ended down at your heels. It was as if a shock wave went through your body, sliding a heavy brick over your chest until you couldn't breathe properly. She had really gone insane now.

“Listen to auntie, baby. Where are you right now?” you ask as you reach for any clothing that could cover your body, never even sparing the pieces of fabric a glance as you rush to pull them onto your body.

“The toilet-” he mumbles but his voice is cut off by a gasp as you hear noises over the phone. Loud thuds make Jisung cry out and for a second you thought there was no way you would make it in time to see your nephew again.

“Lock the door baby, auntie is on her way, okay? Don’t hang up the phone” you command, leaving your dark bedroom, mind awake but body sloppily moving from exhaustion as you fumble with the stubborn lock to your apartment.

You weren’t sure how to get to your sister’s place. It was a twenty-minute car ride away and at this time no taxis were out by the worn-down neighborhood you had been living in for the time being. That is how you committed your first crime, legally speaking. Your eyes catch the tall street lamps shining straight down onto a row of bicycles, all alined perfectly and strapped to a metal bicycle stand. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe, you weren't sure what was. No guilt was ever felt as your eyes landed on a bicycle with a missing lock. It was way too tall for your body, the seat reaching way past your torso. But you were determined, you had to leave now and it wasn’t like you were stealing because you wanted to. You'd return it as soon as you’d be back, with your nephew.

“Auntie is coming, I’m coming to get you. Don’t open the door until I’m there” you breathe heavily, throwing your phone into the basket attached to the front of the steering handles as your feet push off the uneven ground to gain momentum and get the wheels spinning. You barely reach the pedals when you sit down on the bicycle seat, legs long enough so that your toes could push the pedals and keep rolling down the poorly-lit streets. Your lungs burned as you kept pushing your legs to work the pedals quicker. You could make out some sounds coming from the speaker on your phone as Jisung asked how much longer you’d be.

“Almost there, auntie is almost there baby” you yell, hoping he’d hear you even when harsh wind hit you as you turned and navigated the night to your sister’s house.

“Y/n?” Jisung’s voice cuts in, pushing the flashback back into the depths of your brain. You blink quickly and look over at him, meeting his gaze as he stares right at you with his questioning eyes. Jisung looked a lot like your sister, round shiny eyes and healthy curly hair, both colored by a combination of auburn brown. Yet he was very different from her. He was mature for his age, but also very sensitive and caring. He had experienced things he really shouldn’t have and you sometimes worry about the effects it could have on his future.

“Sorry buddy, I zoned out” you chuckle, playing it off as a goofy smile spread over your lips. You reach up and mess up his curls to get a high-pitched giggle out of him.

“You know that I have to work. But I promise to be back as soon as I can. I'll even bring you a burger” you raise a knowing brow at your nephew who’s lips now part slightly at your promise. Of course he’d be sold at the mention of a burger. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Now tell me the rules one more time” you tell him as you stand up from the bed, grabbing a small crossbody bag to hang it over your shoulder. This was routine every time you went out and left him all by himself. Something nibbles at your heart when you realize just how lonely Jisung must  feel while you're gone, but you convince yourself you were doing it with his best interest in mind. And since you were leaving him all alone in a hotel, he may as well learn to stay safe.

“Don’t leave the room. Don’t open the door, even for staff and if they ask why I’m alone, I say my parents are out for dinner. Call you only in emergencies. Call the police in serious danger-” he lists the rules one by one, holding up his chubby fingers to help him hold count. You nod in affirmation. “Well done. Now be good, I will be home before you even know it” you lean over to place a kiss to Jisung’s forehead, stealing one last glance at the boy as he watches you leave with a small pout on his lips.

~

Sunday’s were not half as busy as Saturdays. The line of people outside was barely stretching down the sidewalk when it usually went all the way around the street. You make your way to the front of the line, never facing the people who vocally complain about you cutting in line.

“Hey Mark, new suit today?” You send the bouncer a charming smile as he recognizes you, nodding with a pleased look.

“New dress today, bullet?” the tall man winks and you roll your eyes playfully, passing by him and into the storm of loud music and people.

Today you decide to change your tactic, moving straight to the bar instead of making your way to a higher ground and picking a target out. You silently thank yourself for wearing boots instead of a tight pair of heels like the previous night.

The music blasting today was rather calmer than yesterday, a mix of RnB and reggaeton setting the mood to your advantage. Before you could take a seat you are suddenly interrupted by a body stepping in front of you. You look up at the man, raising your eyebrows at him before rolling your eyes and stepping aside to move out of his way. Yet the stranger follows, stepping right after you to block your way.

“Move” you say bitterly, wondering what the asshole’s problem was. He didn’t look much older than you and he wasn’t dressed to impress anyway.

“Y/n wasn’t it?” he says and it takes you everything not to react. Nobody in this area should have enough information to even know your name so why was this man in front of you saying it so proudly? You were careful not to expose the way your stomach squeezed for a second.

“Wrong person, buddy. Now move” you roll your eyes and this time push the man away with force to make yourself comfortable at the bar. You don’t turn around to check whether he was still after you. After a tense minute of waiting for something to happen, you sigh in relief. Maybe he had seen you years ago and recognized you but either way, you could not engage with anybody who threatened to expose you to the feds.

The bar was even emptier than yesterday, all people migrated to the dance floor but hey, at least Wooyoung seemed to be missing too, to your luck. He must've been successful with picking the right target yesterday, maybe he would have already left the country and was spending nights on a resort somewhere across the globe.

The bartender brings over a welcome shot of some liquor and you down it almost immediately. Chatting up people at the bar didn’t seem like the right tactic and you once again found yourself changing your plans last second as you stood up to disappear into a crowd of dancing people. The club wasn’t fully packed and you were sure that tonight, you would be able to handle the people around you. You notice the way people move in waves, eyes closed as their bodies sway them side to side to the music which means bodies start bumping and pushing into you the deeper you go. As much as you’d love to give in and just relax for once, you look around to spot any man decent enough to try hitting on.  

Recently you have noticed a downfall in targets, downfall in successful deals and overall bad luck in business. You knew larger cities would have other workers of your field, but was it really that bad? People familiar with you named you bullet when you first started conning. You were quick, silent and lethal just like a bullet. But it seems as if your reputation was slowly going downhill as more and more nights left you empty handed or worse, beaten to a target by Wooyoung. You didn’t even notice when he had moved cities, started going to the same hunting places as you and now even stealing your targets right in front of you. 

Back where you started, everybody had their own place to perform business at, always resulting in getting at least one successful deal a month. But it seems the capitals have no rules. Whoever reaches first, keeps the target.

You lose track of time as the bass of the music travels through your body with a buzz, successfully throwing your concentration off course as you give in and sway to the enchanting music. Whatever happens tonight, you were not going to beat yourself up for not getting a deal, yet another week in a row. It feels good to not have to worry, but you have gotten way ahead of yourself as your eyes shoot up once a pair of arms wrap themselves around your torso from behind.

Suddenly, you are hyper aware of your body. The humid air in the club made it no easier to breathe, your chest rising dramatically to gasp for air as panic set in. You trash around and turn around in the embrace to face whoever had approached you from behind, eyes wide from the initial shock. You are met with a familiar face. The asshole from earlier stood in front of you with a cocky smile. Your hands fly up to push at his chest, yet to no avail. He had trapped you.

“Why so surprised, did you think I wouldn’t find you again?” He speaks over the music. His hands are locked behind you, pushing on your back to close the gap between your bodies as he practically glued your chests together.

“Let me go '' you yell over the music, heart beating harshly against your rib cage and you wonder whether you would start hyperventilating in a club full of strangers.

“You could at least dance with me” he answers and before you can reply, he moves to forcefully sway your bodies to the music and you can’t put your mind as to why he would go to such lengths to get you. The fact that he had so surely said your name earlier only fueled the anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach. You try to take a good look at his face but the strobing lights were throwing you off your guard, making it harder to see the man and also remember to keep yourself from going into an anxiety attack.  

“I said, let-”

“-Let go off her” another voice cuts in from behind you, loud and clear. You don’t put much effort into identifying whoever was stepping in, just wondering how much longer you could keep breathing. Soon you feel lighter. You watch as the man’s arms swing back from your body as if somebody had forcefully pried them off.

You take a step back to free yourself from the proximity of the stranger but instead bump into another chest. You whip around, still in panic as the crowd around you seemed to quickly be closing in, every voice ringing in your ears. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair and as if on command, your body determines it safe for a time out. Your knees grow weak as your brain goes completely blank with bright white light blinding your vision.

“Fuck” Wooyoung mumbles, hooking his arms around your torso to keep you from hitting the ground completely.

“Fuck off” he barks at the man who watches with a blank face, nodding to himself before raising his arms up as if to indicate he was innocent as he disappeared into the crowd. With the man gone, Wooyoung's problems did not lessen. With determination, he squats down to wrap his arms around your upper thighs before lifting you off the ground and onto his shoulder. He makes sure to pull down on the elastic material of your dress, not wanting to expose you to the people around. Thankfully everybody seemed to be busy dancing or drinking, never looking twice in his direction as he carried you outside.

The line outside of the club had dissipated by now, it was way too late for people to keep entering. A queue of taxis were lined outside by the sidewalk, patiently waiting for customers to start rolling in but Wooyoung had other plans. He walks across the well-lit street filling up with people dancing and singing still as they come out of multiple packed clubs for fresh air.

Soon, he is at the parking lot he used whenever he took his own burgundy Mercedes to a night out. He unlocks the car and opens the passenger seat to set you down in it, making sure your body leaned against it comfortably before sighing. He catches his breath, allowing for questions to roll in. His most obvious one, why the hell had you passed out so suddenly? And who was the guy at the club trying to get to you? The question he refused to acknowledge though was why he had even gone up to help you in the first place. His mind convinces him he was merely being a decent human being, it’s the least he could do after snatching multiple deals right from under your nose.

The faded sounds of people shouting and music coming from the clubs is what slowly brought you back, eyes fluttering as the chilly wind grazes your exposed legs. It was silent now and the people from the club weren’t crowding you anymore. You catch the sight of a cream-colored car interior and suddenly realize you were not at the club anymore. Sitting up straight you immediately look around to get an understanding of your surroundings. The car door was open, so you were not being kidnapped. How did you get here?

“Geez, calm down, you’d think I was kidnapping you or something” Wooyoung snickers, seemingly having similar worries as you. He steps forward to reveal himself to you, unsure of  how you would react to his presence. Both of you weren’t really celebrating the fact that you had settled on working at the same club. Would you tell him off for what happened yesterday? And many other nights before that? For the first time in his life, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

You look up at him, somewhat surprised that out of all the people that could have helped you, it was him standing in front of you. Small recollections flow back to you and you manage to piece together that you were in Wooyoung’s car after you so gracefully collapsed in the middle of the dance floor at LUX. You clear your throat and stretch your legs out of his car, standing up to face him.

You open your mouth to say something but you realize you were not sure what smart comment to insert in such a situation. Wooyoung's eyes look at you blankly, and you wonder if he thinks he has successfully caught you in a weak moment. You couldn’t allow him to even think such thoughts.

“Thanks for the help” you say, but curse yourself as your voice comes out thin and light. “But you didn’t have to. Don’t you have new money to spend?” you sure sound like a jerk. But rather a jerk than letting Wooyoung think he was superior to you.

“You can never just admit I helped you and move on with a simple ‘thanks’, can you? Besides if it wasn’t for me, who knows what that asshole would have done. Who is he even?” Wooyoung is quick to defend himself, his chin lifting higher as each word comes out quicker than the other. You notice how easily heated he becomes when he speaks yet for some reason it stretches your lips upwards into a humored look, which you of course quickly hide.

“If I knew him, do you think I'd react the way I did?” you roll your eyes, hoping that if you ignored the first part of his sentence, he’d forget about it as well.

“Forget it, since you don’t want help, you’re welcome to go” Wooyoung raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to act.

“Fine, good night” You spit but as you whip around to storm off, your foot catches the edge of the sidewalk, sending you flying down onto the asphalt ground. You catch yourself on your palms, wincing as the rough ground scratches your knees and if it wasn’t for your boots, you are certain you would have torn your skin apart.

Wooyoung is surprised to see your body sprawl over the ground below him and steps closer to get a strong grip around your arm, pulling you up effortlessly.

“Ow that hurts!” you yelp at his grip, standing up only to feel shocks of pain shoot up through your left ankle and up your calf. You look down at the dirty material of your boots and wonder how long it would take before you settle down on the sidewalk and just let all your frustration out.

Wooyoung sighs dramatically and instead snakes an arm around your waist, holding you up as you lift your left ankle off the floor to stop the pain.

“I don’t need your help, good night Wooyoung” he mimics a high-pitched voice, face grimacing as he mocks your earlier words. You stay silent, clenching your jaw to keep you from saying something you’d feel guilty for later at night. Besides, you needed the help for real this time and he was the only one around.

“I can give you a drive home, but I expect you to at least thank me. Sincerely” he offers, holding your waist tightly. Wooyoung subconsciously moves you closer until your side is pressed against his and you are suddenly aware of his scent. You couldn’t make out each individual ingredient in his cologne, but your mind settles that it's a mix of bergamot and musk. It is surprisingly not too strong and you hate how well it suits him. You wonder if he would notice you moving closer to catch another whiff of it, but decide against it. Men like Wooyoung shouldn’t be complemented, their ego would get too big and you had enough of his already.

“So?” he speaks up, the hand on your waist giving you a small squeeze to remind you that he was awaiting an answer. You bite down on your tongue before your ego gets the best of you and just chirp out a dry “please”.

For some astronomical reason Wooyoung is not in his usual cocky mood, but you tell yourself not to get used to it. He simply nods and carefully helps you sit down in the leather passenger seat of his car again. Shivers erupt over your bare arms when Wooyoung removes his arm from around you, suddenly realizing how warm he had felt against your skin. You push the thoughts towards the back of your brain, not wanting to overthink the matter. You get comfortable and buckle your seatbelt, observing the details of his car as he shuts your door and moves to get in from the driver’s side.

As Wooyoung focuses on starting the car, you finally have time to look him over closer. His hair was dyed blonde, that you knew already. But what you had failed to acknowledge was the way it made his golden skin glow brighter, accentuating it in a way that you hadn’t noticed before. He wore a button down with cheetah print and you wondered how anybody his age could pull it off, yet he made it seem as if it was made solely for him. The first three buttons were unbuttoned and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes down the vein on his neck that disappeared into his prominent collarbone. You let your eyes glance just a little further down to sneak a peek of the smooth skin that was the beginning of his chest.  

“You done staring me down? I need your address” Wooyoung mused, never turning his head as his eyes focused on the road ahead. You catch the way his lips tug into a small smirk and you ball your fists in your lap to keep you from cursing at him. Of course you had been wrong to think he would be free of his cockiness.

“The Imperial Hotel” is all that leaves your mouth as you turn to look out the car window, refusing to catch yourself loosening up and trailing your eyes over places where they shouldn’t be.

“The Imperial Hotel?” Wooyoung repeats, tone low and and curious. “Are you really broke enough to stay at a hotel?” he asks but realizes his mistake right after the question came out in a way that he didn’t intend for it to. “I mean, don’t you have a place?”

You snort, eyebrows raised as you turn to look at him, arms crossing over your chest. Who was he to question you like this?

“I don’t have a place because I like the anonymity. I like moving around so I don’t need a place” you bark back, hating how you felt threatened by his attitude. Not that you would admit it. “Besides I don’t have to explain anything to you, just take me there.”

Wooyoung stops at a red light, using the opportunity to raise a questioning eyebrow as your eyes meet. His gaze is challenging.

“Take you there?” he repeats your words, each word coming out of his mouth as if you offended him.

“Please” you mumble.

“Much better” he drives off with a pleased grin. The next moments you find yourself in silence, to your surprise comfortable. You listen to the sound of the wheels moving against the asphalt at different speeds as Wooyoung drives. For a moment you feel a warm feeling of what could be dejavu in your chest, as if this has happened before. As if driving together like this was something you did often. Your eyes catch a bright red and yellow sign and you are suddenly reminded of Jisung.

“Wait!” you yell out suddenly, making Wooyoung slam on the breaks as he looks over at you with a concerned expression. His sharp brows are knitted together as he questions you.

“What? What happened?” he breathes, seemingly awaiting something much more serious than the question that comes out of your mouth.

“Could you um, go through the drive through?” you ask carefully, nodding to the fast-food sign right off the freeway.

“Do you realize you just made me slam on my breaks and potentially crash my new car just for Mcdonald’s?” he snaps, immediately checking the mirrors behind him for traffic which was empty seeing as the time was about to hit three am. He clicks his tongue but follows your request, turning to drive up to the restaurant.

“Don’t you have food at home?” he grumbles as you lean over his seat to get a glance at the menu screen outside his window. You support your hand on the center control between your seats, stretching as far as you could over him.

Wooyoung’s gaze shifts to your face in front of his, eyes narrow as they jump over your features and the way you concentrate on the menu. He hesitates but slowly brings a hand forward, warm fingers pushing back a rogue strand of hair behind your ear in order to clear your view. You are busy ordering Jisung his promised burger to notice, voice loud and clear as you speak to the employee over the microphone.

As soon as you’re done placing your order you turn your head to look at Wooyoung, it would be nice to ask if he wanted something since he was nice enough to drive here. It was the least you could do anyway.

You blink in surprise at how close your two faces are. Close enough to feel his shaky warm breath on your cheek. His eyes immediately fall to your parted lips as he swallows harshly. You take notice of this, your own eyes following his actions as you watch the tip of his tongue peek out to brush over his lower lip, wetting it. His lips glisten in the harsh lights situated outside the fast-food restaurant, illuminating the skin.

“D-did you want something too?” your voice is almost a whisper as you speak, slowly sinking back into your seat as if whatever just happened would go unnoticed. Wooyoung bites down on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as an answer before he drives up to the window, seemingly unbothered. You press your back against the heated seat, wondering why your heart suddenly had picked up its speed. At this point in your career, you always found yourself around men, none of which made you nervous simply by existing so close to you. Wooyoung’s expression seemed sour, jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

A part of you wondered if this was a part of his game that he played with his targets. In which case you’d totally understand why he scored successful deals nine out of ten times. You weren’t sure if you wished for another moment like this or if it was that lone single shot of alcohol you had taken at LUX coming back to make you overthink, so you decide against thinking at all. You are tired, that was the true excuse.

The rest of the drive continues in silence. Yet somehow your earlier plans to overthink had betrayed you as your brain jumped at anything you could connect to Wooyoung. From how you first met, to how you had seen him work his targets, to right now.

“We’re here” Wooyoung announces, stopping by the entrance of the obviously fancy hotel. Even though it was late night, a doorman stood guard and you kind of felt bad for him. You unbuckle your belt and shift to move but sudden pain shoots through your ankle again.

“Fuck” you mumble and look up at Wooyoung who was silently watching you struggle.

“Don’t tell me I have to carry you inside too” he says, wondering why he even bothered helping you if it would have taken so much time. Yet never truly complaining because he honestly hadn’t minded it all that much.

“If it burdens you that much, I’ll just hop on one leg” you scoff, if he chose to help, he might as well go through with helping you all the way to your room. But the Mcdonald’s take-away bag suddenly reminds you that Jisung was in the room and there was no way Wooyoung could find out. “Help me to the elevator at least?” and as Wooyoung opens his mouth to cut you off, you add a silent “Please”.

Wooyoung sighs and gets out of the car as a way of agreeing. He walked around the front before opening the door for you. Shivers run down your spine when the cold air hits your legs but you choose to stay silent, knowing that if you would complain it would only turn into endless bickering between the two of you.

You place a foot on the ground, lifting your hurt ankle up and Wooyoung immediately leans closer to reach for you inside of the car. One of his arms sneak under your thighs while the other wraps around your back, lifting you up into his embrace with ease before shutting the car door with his foot. You stay silent as you let him carry you, eyes trailing back to the golden skin peeking out of his buttoned down shirt once again. Since when is a tiny piece of exposed skin something to be shy of? Your eyes trail further up, running along his neck and sharp jawline. You weren’t sure why you were so keen on disliking him, maybe it was in fact that he was too pretty and that he was aware of it.

Wooyoung sets you down by the elevator. It was as if any time you spent with him, whether it was in the car or him carrying you inside, was over in a few seconds and you felt somewhat disappointed as a weight settled in your lower abdomen. Even though you found yourself surrounded by men almost every weekend, there was none that you had sincerely liked. Then, do you like Wooyoung? Probably not. He simply caught you in a weak moment and that was all. You will probably not hear the end of his heroic actions next weeknd at LUX.

“Well... you’re welcome” Wooyoung teases, straightening up as he pushes the button to call on the elevator. The doors open immediately and you dread leaving him. Wait, dread was too strong of a word.

“Thanks” you reply, putting on a poker face to make sure he wouldn’t crack your ego any further. Wooyoung snorts lightly at your attempt at thanking him, but decides to accept it.

“Well then, see you next weekend, honey” he shrugs and turns to leave, raising his hand above his head to wave goodbye as he walks off. Dick, can’t even face me when he leaves, you think and stumble into the elevator, hissing as painful shocks shoot up your ankle.

“Don’t say it like that, people will think you are someone to me” you raise your voice, knowing he’d be able to hear it.

“And am I not, honey?” he glances over his shoulder but just then, the elevator doors separate you as they trap you into the tight compartment. You sigh, shaking your head to yourself.

The elevator was surrounded by mirrors and you catch yourself staring back at an expression of a teenage girl who had been out on a first date with her crush. Only as you look at yourself do you realize your cheeks had heated up and your lips were pulled up into a tiny smile.

You quickly furrow your brows again, trading the smile for your usual scowl to seem unaffected by anything, or anyone.

The elevator gives a metallic ding to indicate you arrived at your floor. The number 13 stands out in golden numbering, how ironic.

You assume Jisung is asleep because nobody greets you as you enter the hotel room. Throughout the year of living together, you’ve mastered the technique of going into rooms almost soundless. As if you're a mouse sneaking in to steal a piece of cheese. Finally you are away from any watching eyes. Finally you do not need to think about the way you act and what to say.

Your cellphone comes to life as it lights up the hotel room and you curse, hopping towards it on your only useful leg. Who is even awake at this time? Could it be…Wooyoung? No, you can’t expect him to even know your number. And even if he did, why would he text you?

You slide the message open and see an attachment. The number was unknown and you wondered if somebody had sent you a drunk text by accident. You open the image. It does not even take two seconds for you to register what it was. The number 13 stood out in gold and the background wall was a warm beige, just like the one on your floor if not the exact same one. You furrow your brows before a text bubble pops up.

“You got away too quick tonight, thank your little boyfriend for that. Next time, it’s over for you”

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thank you for reading. i haven't written for ages and had this idea for the longest of times. i hope you are here on my writing journey and see me evolve but also have fun reading this word. all feedback is welcome because i want to improve as best as i can. are you looking forward to part 2?