#hongjoong angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaslayer · 20 days

Text

home (khj) | one shot.

—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst

—word count: 24k

—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*

—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande

Home.

When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;

Hongjoong.

It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;

The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.

As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.

So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”

“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”

“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going.

“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.

“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.

“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—

“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.

“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”

“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.

“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.”

“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.

“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.

“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?

“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.

“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm.

“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.

“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking.

“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady.

“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.

“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”

“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”

“You sure?” You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”

“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.

So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.

“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”

“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”

“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”

“This is early to you?”

“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.

“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.

“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”

“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall.

“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”

“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.

“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.

“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.

“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”

“How can you tell?”

“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”

“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”

“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.

“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.

“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.

“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”

“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.

“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.

“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light.

“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.

“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.

So colorful, vibrant.

But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.

He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.

So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.

That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.

Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.

“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”

“Just wanted to get some air.”

“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”

“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”

“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close.

Kiss you.

Hold your hand.

“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.

“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“You— wait, what?”

“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.

“A date, hm?”

“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.

“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.”

And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too.

After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.

Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.

That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.

“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”

“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”

“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.”

“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”

“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” He says excitedly.

“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”

“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.

Welp.

You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.

When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.

“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.

“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.

The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.

“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.

“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.

“Are you almost done, though?”

“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.

The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.

So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.

“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.

Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.

“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.

“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”

“Just want a kiss.”

“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going.

And you do.

The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.

His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.

“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples.

“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.

“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?

The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.

His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm.

“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.

Oops.

So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.

He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable.

“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.

“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.

“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”

“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now.

“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.

“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.

“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.

“This is pretty to you?”

“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.

“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.

“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”

“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.

“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.

You definitely slept well that night.

And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.

“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.

“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”

“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”

“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”

“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.

So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this.

All of this.

—SUMMER

“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.

“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.

“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.

“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’

When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son.

But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.

You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.

It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.

“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.

“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.

“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”

“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”

“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”

“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless.

The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property.

You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi.

“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”

“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”

“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.

“He does.”

“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.

“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.

“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”

“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.

A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.

It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way.

You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.

Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.

Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else.

Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made.

“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.

“That’s my girl.”

“You look hella happy with her.”

“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.

“We’re not really talking.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”

“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.

Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.

“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.

“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”

“Joong.” You giggle.

“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.

“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”

“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”

“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.

“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.

“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.

“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”

“In the lot?!”

“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”

“Joong, someone might see us.”

“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.

“We don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

“Feels so good.” You whine.

“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”

“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.

You can’t believe him right now.

“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.

“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.

“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.

“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”

“I do!”

“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”

“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses.

“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.

“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.

“I hate sleeping without you.”

“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.

The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.

Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.

The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.

You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.

You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.

A night without his warmth.

“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.

When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.

Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”

“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”

“That’s not the point.”

“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason.

“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.

“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”

“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.

Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.

But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”

“What happened?”

“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”

“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”

“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.

You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”

“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.

“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.

“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.

“Mingi’s in bed.”

“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.

“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.”

“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.

“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.”

“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.

“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?

“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.

You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him.

Oh, Hongjoong.

You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.

The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.

“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.

“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”

“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

��It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.

“You’re so good to me.”

“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.

Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.

It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.

A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.

A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.

As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.

Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.

And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.

When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.

“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.

“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.

The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him.

You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.

“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.

“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.

But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too.

“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now.

“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”

“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”

“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.

Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.

During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.

Of course.

You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.

And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.

You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.

“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.

“Of course.”

“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”

“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”

“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.

She knows, she knows.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.

“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.

“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”

“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.

“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.”

“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics.

Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad.

“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”

“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?”

“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.

“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.

“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”

“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.

“Yes I do!” He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”

“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?

If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?

“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.

“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.

And it gets you every single time.

You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.

“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open.

Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.

That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.

Things were good, until they weren’t.

There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.

You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.

Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.

tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?

tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.

You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.

“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”

“Not my point.”

“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?

“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.

“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”

“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.”

“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”

“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”

“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”

“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”

“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.

“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“

“To you, maybe.”

“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”

“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen.

“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”

“How is it different?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”

“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”

“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”

“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”

“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”

“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”

“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”

“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”

“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.

“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument.

“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”

“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.

“What happened?”

“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”

“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”

“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”

“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.

“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.

“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.

The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.

“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.

Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—

That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.

But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.

Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.

Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.

But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.

yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument

yunho: they fought again? over what?

wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me

wooyoung: thanks

wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit

He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.

When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.

“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.

“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”

“It was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.

“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”

“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”

“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”

“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”

“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”

“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.

“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”

“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”

“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.

“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.

“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”

“I need to shower.”

“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes.

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.

It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.

“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.

“Hanging up more?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”

“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”

“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.

“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”

“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”

“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods.

“She just needs her friends.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.”

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.

“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”

“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.

“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.

“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”

“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.

“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.”

“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.

“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”

And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.

Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.

The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change.

Not anymore.

“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.

“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”

“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.

“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”

“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”

“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?”

“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”

“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”

“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”

“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.

But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.

“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”

“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”

“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.

“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.

“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.

“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.

You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.

Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?

When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.

You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two.

He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.

“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.

“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips.

“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes.

It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.

Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.

As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.

But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that.

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.

“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.

You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.

So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.

They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.

They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.

You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.

You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.

The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.

When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.

“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”

“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.

“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.

“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.

“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.

“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”

“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”

“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.

Of your home.

“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.

“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.

The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,

Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.

The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.

A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.

It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.

The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’

hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles.

Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.

All of that going to waste.

hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?

tara: yup!

There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it

hongjoong: go 😞

tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.

“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”

“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.

Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.

“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.

When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.

You are.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”

“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.

Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.

But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.

It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.

2 years of nothing.

Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.

But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.

Because did you deserve this? All of this?

It was never about you.

Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had.

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡

—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid

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pyramid-of-starrs · 4 months

Note

hongjoong getting at us mad because we hung out with a different kpop boy group nsfw ?😭idk it came to me because of how atinys make the joke of hongjoong hating how we stan other groups-

Only look at me

Jealous mean Dom Hongjoong x Afab reader

Summary: You get caught by Hongjoong coming back to your home from a late night concert and he has to remind you who's fan you're supposed to be.

Genre: Angst and Smut

Warnings: Acts of possessiveness, begging, kinda toxic but like not really lol

Smut warnings: Rough sex, use of sex toys, oral sex (M recieving), gagging, choking, friends with benefits, mentions of punishment, punishment sex, use of consentual force (Y/N have a preestablished agreement), Mean dom Hongjoong, slapping, cum eating, throat fucking, condom sex, Sir kink??, pain kink??, Humilitation??, Degrading??

A/N: Idk what it is about Hongjoong but like, every fic I write about him he's getting his dick sucked, idk he just deserves that.

Minors dni

You walked into your loft around 3 am, you dropped your clear tote bag, and took off your shoes, the living room was dark, you turned on the light and were startled to see your best friend Hongjoong sitting on your couch with his leg folded over the other and his arms crossed.

"Jesus fucking Christ Hongjoong you scared the hell out of me, why are you just sitting in my house in the damn dark?!" You yelled, still shaken up while holding your fast-beating chest.

"You're coming home late." was all he replied, you didn't ask why he was here again because Hongjoong often randomly appeared at your house every since he got the spare key in case of emergencies.

"Yeah, I was out with my friends."

"Doing what?" He tilted his head slightly. "I'm your friend, your best friend to be exact, why didn't I know about this friend outing?"

"Uh- well, ya know it was... um... preplanned." You scratched your head then tried to slyly slide your clear tote bag behind you.

"That's not your normal purse, why the sudden change?" He questioned.

"Oh um, the place we went to searches bags so I figured I'd save myself the hassle, haha." You awkwardly giggled as you felt yourself caving under pressure.

"You still haven't told me where this place is Y/N." The look in his eyes were like daggers.

"Fine... me and some friends went to the Stray Kids concert tonight." you cracked.

"Oh! How fun! but it's" He checks his Apple watch. "3:47 am Y/N, in all my years of doing concerts I've never known them to end that late." He said sarcastically.

"Well...um." You stuttered and he rolled his eyes.

"Spit it out Y/N"

"Chan saw us in the crowd and remembered me from when you introduced us and he invited us out for drinks and food-"

"Ooooh drinks AND food, well damn you have had a full night huh?" The sarcasm was very evident.

"Hongjoong don't be like that."

"Like what? I just thought you said that you didn't need to see any other group besides Ateez since we are the best. Yet here you are."

"My friend bought the tickets." you sigh.

"And what did you do while you were out for food and drinks until 3 am." His eyes narrowed.

You stood there in silence choosing not to answer and avoid all eye contact.

"Come here Y/N." he stood up.

You walked over to him slowly then stood in front of him.

"Get on your knees." You stood there now listening for a moment. "Now!" You chose not to prolong it since he was already clearly mad, you got down and kneeled on both your knees on the cold hardwood floor, luckily you had on knee highs so it wasn't too bad. Hongjoong got closer to you and stood above you as he looked down on you with his arms folded you looked at him with pleading eyes hoping he would take a little mercy on you. "Get to it Y/N." you knew you were royally fucked. Though you two were only "friends" you and Hongjoong had a few established understandings, one of them being that you couldn't enjoy any other group except Ateez or he could punish you in any way he saw fit. At first, it was things like pinches or forehead flicks but then the punishments started to become things like standing in front of him with your clothes off or letting him edge you for hours on end. You weren't complaining, sometimes you would purposely get caught with another group's albums or merch so that he could punish you.

You started to undo his pants and zipper while trying to maintain eye contact, you pulled his hands down then his briefs to reveal his half-hardened dick.

"I'm sorry Jongie." you said still trying to get out of the punishment, he grabbed the base of his dick and the back of your head and shoved his cock down your throat causing you to gasp audibly, he held his dick there as it pulsed in your mouth.

"I don't want to fucking hear it." He had no remorse for you as he started to fuck your throat, you could feel his dick getting harder and harder as it became harder to breathe from your mouth the deeper he would go. "You shouldn't have done it if you were going to be sorry, now you have to pay the price." He lectured you as you continued to gag on his length while his hips never stopped, his thighs hit your chin, that's just how deep he was going.

"I won't do it again." was muffled from your very occupied mouth and it just irritated him more, he sped up the pace he was going, your throat was already sore from the screaming but him fucking it made it worse, the sting from your punishment was exhilarating.

He kept his grip on your hair with one hand then moved his other hand to your nose as he clamped it closed, cutting off your only airway left to use. "You promise you won't do it again?" he asked. You gagged more as you started to choke from your lack of air, he didn't care, he kept moving his hips to fuck his dick in and out of your throbbing throat. You nodded to his question and he released your nose, you thought you were in the clear until he cocked his hand back a bit and delivered a smack on your cheek, you whimpered around his cock and he returned his fingers to your nose to pinch it closed again. "I can't hear you." he said in a mocking tone. You muffled out a yes that was barely understandable as mascara tears started to run down your face, he released your nose once again and you started to take large breaths through it, he once again smacked your sensitive cheek, the sting was amazing.

"I said do you fucking promise?" He said as he pulled his dick from your mouth and looked down at you with a slightly scary face while he angled your head up to make sure you two made eye contact.

"Yes, I promise." You cried out, and he smiled.

"Good job, stick your tongue out." You opened your mouth wide then stuck your tongue out, he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue and stroked himself a few times before the hot ropes of his cum started to cover your tongue. "Now swallow all of it." You closed your mouth and swallowed every drop of his cum, even licking your lip gloss-covered lips to get the remaining off, you showed him your tongue to get his stamp of approval. "Strip and go to the bedroom, but crawl since you like to bark for other men like a horny little bitch in heat."

"Yes sir." You nodded then reached for your shirt to pull it off while he watched you slowly get naked to tease him, you stood there naked before getting on your hands and knees and crawling down the hall to your bedroom, Hongjoong watched you as he followed behind you, his eyes watching you made you wetter. Your slick spread all over your core and thighs, watching was making Hongjoong eager to drill you, once you reached the bed you sat on your knees waiting on his next command.

"On the bed dog." he commanded, you got on top of the bed, sitting on your knees once again. "Lay on your back with your knees up." you laid back and bent your knees, Hongjoong removed the remainder of his clothes but walked over to the nightstand to get something out of the top drawer, before you could look over to see what he had he climbed on top on you and positioned himself between your legs, he ripped open a condom and you whined. "Shut up, cheater sluts like you don't get to get fucked raw." He didn't waste time and lined his tip up with your sex and put it in. You moaned as he pushed deeper into you, he held the back of your legs and you could feel him holding something hard as he kept a consistent pace inside of you.

"It feels so good Joongie." you moaned.

"Wanna feel even better baby?" He asked with a devious smirk on his face, though you didn't trust him you still nodded your head and closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling, you suddenly heard a loud buzzing sound and as soon as your eyes fluttered back open you saw Hongjoong was placing your vibrating egg right on your clit. By reflex your legs tried to snap closed and you yelped Hongjoong smiled watching you squirm about.

"Fuck, fuck, what, it's too much-" you yelled, he started to go faster while drawing circles on your clit with the egg and biting his bottom lip.

"Aw is that how you were screaming at your little concert?" Curse words and incoherent pleas fell from your lips as he pushed the egg further onto your clit, your head was all the way into the pillow. "What? You can't talk now huh? Spending all that time talking and laughing with them that you're too tired to talk?" He thrust harshly, the tip of his dick hitting your spot hard repeatedly, your fingers began to curl, and you could hear him laughing at you.

"Fuck Joong, Fuck." Was all you could say before your body started to shake, your eyes rolled back as you gripped the sheets hard, your pussy tightened around Hongjoong as liquid erupted out of you, Hongjoong smiled as he looked over the mess he made of you but he needed to push you more, punish you even further. Before you could catch your breath or get cleaned up Hongjoong turned the egg up to full speed and pushed it back onto your clit, you loudly moaned at the sudden fast pace vibrations on your already sensitive nub.

"Please- please, please, please, no more, no more." you pleaded you could hardly catch your breath, especially with his dick still inside you. He started to roll his hips into you until he was full-on fucking you again, you were fucked out and overstimulated as your clit began to ring, you placed one hand on his stomach and he shot daggers at you once again.

"Take your fucking hand away Y/N." He said in a stern and deep voice, you lowered your hand and sat there and took it, the sensation of his dick and the egg was overwhelming but felt amazing. "If you want me to stop, beg for my forgiveness."

"Pleeeease nghhh~ Please I'm so-rry, please, sorry fuck-" You fumbled out, he pressed harder and fucked you deeper by leaning closer, you gripped his back and pulled him closer while your nails dug into him.

"Louder." His thrusting began to get more aggressive as he pounded into you deeply while holding the egg sloppily.

"Please, please, I'm sorry, please forgive me Hongjoong, I'll only look at you forever, fuck everyone else!" You yelled into his ear, and you once again squirted on him and the bed, your tight abused pussy squeezing Hongjoongs dick and this time earning his cum that filled the condom, he cursed as he pulled out and turned the toy off. He rolled and took a seat on the side of the bed to return everything to your night stand then got up to walk to the bathroom to throw the condom away.

You were stuck in your position for a second, as your body came down from your high you slowly started to sit up in the bed. "It's not fair! You know I like it when you fill me up." You could hear the bath faucet turning on before he walked back in.

"Then stop being bad, that's the only time you will get rewards." he leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before helping you out of bed so he could walk you to the bathroom so you two could take a bath together, he always acts so sweet after being a demon. You went in first to pee then swung the door open when you were done.

"I wasn't being bad, I was going to a free concert... then getting free food and drinks after." You mumbled the last part to not rub salt in his wound.

"Well it wasn't free since you had to pay the price with me." you rolled your eyes, he got in first then you got in after him, the hot water soothed your tense body and burned the new scratches on Hongjoong's back.

"Jeez talking like that like I belong to you Joong."

"You do, you belong to me and only me, so only cheer and look at me... and I guess all of Ateez... but I better be your bias!"

You chuckled at him. "Yes sir"

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #atz smut #writenbypyramidofstars #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #ateez scenarios

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starillusion13 · 3 months

Note

can I request a mafia ot8 x reader? where they all kept a secret from her which made her feel betrayed like she wasn’t a part of the team so like she reverted back to her old self (cold, not talking to them at all, being strictly profesional) and each one of them regrets it

CAN WE GO BACK?

Pairing: Mafia! Ateez x f!reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Mature

W.C: 4.2k

Warnings: arguments, regret, trust issues, keeping secrets, mention of death and mafia business and deals, traumas and betrayals.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I swear if I write one more angst fic then I will end up crying a river. I have made this fic a little bit less angst and let me know how it is.

"Where are they?" You asked Mr. Na with balancing the snacks in your hold.

He looked at you with a frown and glanced at the papers. It was afternoon and you thought to meet your boyfriends in the office but they were not there. It's unusual for them to not be there without telling you where they are going to.

You pout and placed the snacks on the table and munched on one of your favorites. You waited for him to reply but he seemed to return back to his work. "Hey! I asked you something and you are ignoring me. You know who I am right?" You asked him in a threatening tone and he was still not fazed by you.

"I can't hear you. I'm busy." He didn't look up from his paper-works and you got mad.

You slammed your hand on the table in front of him and glared at him. He rolled his eyes with a bored look on his face.

"How will I know where are they? And also didn't you have a mission this morning? Why are you back so early and annoying me?"

"Me annoying you. I would never." You faked a hurt look on your face and acted to have a heart attack. "I had my missions and I did well. I was really disappointed that those shitheads were not afraid of me at first but were insulting me more. So instead of letting to have them taste of my precious words, I planted some bullets in their head."

He chuckled, "as expected from you."

"But don't you really know where they are...they are not even picking up my calls." You looked down at your phone, still no missed calls or any messages.

"How will I know about it? You are their girlfriend and if they are keeping something so confidential to them, it can only meant that it's to remain within the family and as you are also part of the family so I hope they won't tell me anything about it." He said and went back to his work.

You are their family.

"But they didn't told you anything like if I return or something and where to find them?"

He glared, "no. But they were pretty much in hurry when they left the place and I thought you knew about it. So don't ask me again."

"Jaemin-" "Don't call me by my name during working hours."

You scoffed, "just now you told me that I'm their girlfriend and now you are raising your voice at me. Also, mafia business is for 24/7 so I can call you anything anytime and anywhere."

Jaemin clicked on a website and replied, " it was good when you were of cold personality and kept your distance with everyone. It's pretty much annoying that you always pick me to disturb and interrupt my works."

"Oh come on Jaemin, you love me too much. And just remember if I return back to that self, it will be only when something like in the past has hurt me again. And I really don't want to be like that again. I like being so happy and free everytime."

You were sad and your words were pronounced clearly that made him understand that he should not have said those harsh words to you. He knew how pathetic and vulnerable your past was but still his work load and you in between made him slip those words.

He patted your head, "y/n, I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean like that. I really love to see you so bubbly. They have totally changed you and to see you happy with them is really the best thing in this building."

"You still don't trust me?"

"No no you are the lovely and the best sister I have got here and please don't mind my words like this. Please don't feel sad."

He was really trying his best to hold back his tears and make you trust him that the little suspicion he had back then when you joined the company had disappeared eventually. He always thought of you as the distraction in their life but now he sees you as a blessing. He is a best brother to you.

"Never. I can't feel sad with you atleast. You are not getting rid of me anytime soon."

A ring from Jaemin's phone interrupted your conversation with him, you both watched the name displayed on the screen 'Sir Yunho'. His eyes went wide and stared at the phone and you clutched yours in the hold.

You urged him to pick it up and put it on speaker. He received the call and you leaned forward to scan the drafts on the computer screen on which he was working.

"Has Y/n returned yet?" The voice from the other end was rough and tired.

"She-" you pressed a finger on your lips and signalled him to not tell them about your arrival. "No she hasn't returned yet, let me ask her."

"No let her be. We will be back soon from the business. If she returns then tell her we are out for lunch." He spoke in a hurry.

The call was passed to someone else. Jaemin was surprised that they just told to not tell you that they were out somewhere and even told him to lie to you. He was watching you how you were staring blankly at your phone.

"Jaemin, what happened?" Hongjoong was angry but still he was trying to contain his anger. The younger boy was distracted and soon collected himself to reply back.

"Oh just, some works are pending so I got distracted."

"okay."

The call was cut and you stood up. He was about to say something to you but you raised your hand making him shut and you turned towards the meeting room. The room which belongs to you too but now somehow it felt many secrets are hidden behind it, from you.

he watched you walking towards the room with lost eyes and tired form. He shook his head at the thought that it was not good whatever was going to happen because it's not a good decision for them to keep this sudden business hidden from you.

Where were they even? Why didn't they tell you about it?

These thoughts were storming inside your mind after you entered the room. Your fingers curled into a fist and threw the vase which was placed on top of the side shelf above which a beautiful family picture with you smiling with your boyfriends were hanging. You glared at the picture.

"Where are you all? Don't you all trust me that you had to keep this sudden business as a secret from me?"

You harshly wiped away the tears from your eyes and looked around the room. It was same as earlier when you noticed before leaving in the morning. You slowly walked towards the leader's chair at the end of the table.

You sat on it and held the armrest tightly. You turned it around to face the wall behind you. The letters on the wall were piercing your eyes which were designed with orange and black LED mini lights, 'ATEEZ'.

Your family.

"Don't you all trust me as your family?"

The more you were thinking about the situation, the more you felt like convincing yourself that you were just overreacting and after they come back from the place, they will tell you the truth and everything related to it but still somewhere you were impatient.

They know that keeping secrets only triggers you but still they chose to do it.

. . .

"Is she here?" Jongho's voice made Jaemin look up from the computer screen.

Jaemin stood up and greeted him and the rest who were chit chatting in the back. "Y-yeah, she just returned right now."

Jongho smiled and said, "you don't have to work on this today. We need this after two weeks so go have some free time with your friends. Don't stress yourself."

Jaemin nodded and sat down.

"Let's head to the meeting room first and she must be waiting for us in the cafeteria." Yeosang's cheerful voice made everyone laugh and there was a warm feeling in their hearts that you were waiting for them.

Jaemin's eyes followed them going to the same direction where you went earlier. Heavy boots clicked the marble floor with dark looks radiating from them but everyone had a small smile resting on their face because of the thought of you.

Seonghwa opened the heavy metal door only to be greeted by broken pieces of fiber scattered on the floors and then he noticed the vase in front of their picture was lying broken.

"Who the hell did this?" Hongjoong's angry voice brought the others attention to the situation.

"Welcome back, Ateez."

Their eyes followed the source of the voice and noticed the leader's chair facing backward to the table. They couldn't see the person sitting on it due to the high rise of the leather of the backrest but the voice was pretty much familiar, the one they crave to listen often, almost every time.

You swiveled around the chair to face them and they noticed you sitting on it with one leg over the another and staring at your phone.

San was last to enter the meeting room and when he closed the door behind him, he noticed the whole situation and the destruction on the floor.

"You look cute when you sit on this chair."

You ignored Hongjoong's compliment and he was surprised that you didn't reply him back. If it was some other time then you would have teased him or said that you always look better than him and then he would have placed you on his lap and proceed with things.

"How did your mission go?" You glared when San went to touch your cheek after asking the question. He thought you were joking so he again raised his hand only to get swatted away by you.

"Sir San, please keep your hands off from me. You should not touch me like this way."

He laughed, " are you putting up a new act again from a movie?"

"Hey let's get some food in the cafeteria." Yeosang said and smiled towards you while approaching you.

You gave both of them a stern look before staring at the man standing across from you in the far end of the table. He was watching you intently.

Hongjoong leaned forward and supported his hands on the edge of the table, "why are you speaking like this? What's with your behavior with them?"

"How does it feel to be the leader and sitting here? Very authentic, right leader?"

Leader...you don't call him this anymore because after the day they turned you into this new personality, you always call them by their name just to feel them more closer. It makes you feel a family with them.

"Why are you asking this all of a sudden?" Seonghwa behind him asked you and you fished your phone inside your pocket of the combat pants and poked the inside of your cheek.

"Why don't you all take a seat? We need to discuss something about business."

Your words were like a business partner waiting for them to make a deal not their girlfriend who was waiting for their return.

No one budged from their place and you rolled your eyes. You stood up but stayed beside the chair and spin it around. Their eyes followed your movements.

"I thought sitting here will make me the leader but I see that's not the case here."

Wooyoung sat in the second chair at the side of the table.

"Where were you all?" You asked.

Jongho scanned the room to see all of them were busy staring at you and so he said, "we were out for lunch." He nodded in the end.

You bitterly chuckled, "from nine in the morning to this later afternoon...almost four o'clock...you all were out for so long. Just for lunch?"

"We were not out for so long." Hongjoong said confidently.

"Of course. But that's not according to my watch."

"Why the vase is broken?" You smirked at Seonghwa's question.

"Ah finally the question I wanted.well, I broke it."

"Why?"

"And if I ask you the same question Seonghwa, why?"

Mingi interjected, "what do you mean by why?"

San was still standing confused beside the chair on the other side.

"I am asking you all again and for the last time. Where were you all?" Your words were so loud and this sudden yell made some of them surprised and others were still staring at you.

Mingi was quick to reply, "as he said we were out for lunch."

"Don't lie to me. If you don't want to tell the truth then shut up." You clenched your jaw.

"What makes you think like that?" Yunho asked and folded his hands above his chest.

"Oh come on Yunho, you told Jaemin to lie to me that you were out for lunch when you were actually on a secret business. Am I right?"

He was surprised that you knew about it. Wooyoung leaned back to his chair and said, "y/n, it's not like that. That's just a simple issue."

"Then why can't anyone of you tell me where you all were."

Jongho cleared his throat and said, "it's better for you to not know about it."

"Do you think of me as a spy?"

"Y/n no we can't ever think of you like that. Even if you did something wrong then we can always talk it out with each other but we will never suspect you for anything." Jongho quickly stated.

Hongjoong's boot echoed in the room and he stood in front of you. You glared at him when he placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't try to manipulate me or try to convince me to trust your lies. You promised me to never hide anything from me but suddenly you all are hiding something from me."

He nodded, "I know but I want you to calm down for me. Please." You scoffed. Another presence made an appearance beside you both but you were yet to notice it but when he spoke up you became more annoyed with the same words.

You pushed away the hand from your shoulder.

"Not always everything can be said to everyone. Sometimes its better to keep some things secret."Seonghwa said and held your hands in his and caressed them a little, "it's for your safety and well being."

He seemed to be calm and contented but deep down he was deeply hurt to see you acting distant with him and not even smiling a bit when he was so near to you. He was holding your hand but he wanted to pull you in a hug.

"We just want to keep you safe, y/n." Yunho stated very slowly and he was sad.

He is always the first person to pull you in a hug and fill you with love and praises and today he would have appreciated you for your success and instead of this dark environment, the room would have filled with laughter when he would have held you up and spin you around in the room.

Mingi stood behind you and prevented you to move away and whispered words to calm you down and to take everything slowly. But you were not in a mood. He was still process the fact that you came to know about the secret business.

You pulled your hands harshly from the grip and shouted which made the person behind you to stumble backward.

"Can you all stop pretending that you all did nothing wrong? If I'm overthinking then let me be like this but you know I hate when my own family hide something from me. It make me feels like I am not trusted. It reminds me of my past."

Wooyoung hesitated to speak anything but still clenched his fist, "no love, we trust you the most. Believe me."

You ignored his words and sat on the chair beside him. Seonghwa was about to say something but Hongjoong held his hand up to make him quiet. The past traumas always triggered you whenever someone lied to you or hide something from you but still he did it.

Rest of them were aware of this situation too. Your words were feeling so distant and you being so hyper was normal for you to act this way. Atleast they should have think about this situation before. You held your head over the table and grabbed your hairs and Wooyoung stared at you with hurtful eyes.

You looked like that old y/n who was with cold heart, piercing eyes and distant space with them. Not their usual y/n with the warm heart, sweet smile and confidence.

Hongjoong was about to pass by you to go towards his chair when he halted in his steps behind you, he raised his hands to pat your head but the younger one beside you grabbed it and glared at him.

"I told you to tell her about the situation but still you were persistent with your decision. Look what you have done." Wooyoung didn't mind to raise his voice at his brother but the leader just nodded to his words and retreated his hand back.

He went to his seat and signaled others to do the same. They all were glancing at you. You were near the leader and San who was across from you was glancing between you and the leader.

He wanted to just pull you towards him and take you away somewhere else just to calm you down and make you feel loved.

When you noticed everyone was seated, you raised your head and blankly asked, "I assume you all to start speaking now. And only the truth."

"We were with your dad and Mr. Lee." Hongjoong started the conversation.

"Don't ever refer that monster as my dad. He is no one to me."

"Mr. Lee's daughter..." he paused and looked around for anyone else to continue and Yunho nodded.

Yunho smiled but quickly erased it when he saw your fuming eyes, "his daughter is engaged to Hongjoong and Seonghwa because once we had a deal in the past to save our organization and today we were there to break the dealership with him."

When the topic finally started. each one of them had a same feelings tugging at their heart. the feeling of regrets. All of them were regretting to keep you oblivion to this.

You scoffed, "engaged?" your eyes took in each of their looks precisely and continued, "so its not about only today. you all were hiding it from me for a long time now. and for how long?"

"it's not like that."

"Yunho, I asked you for how long you all were preparing for this business and when all this engagement happened?" you asked and leaned back into your chair. Mingi was impatiently tapping the top of the table with the back of the pen.

Seonghwa patted Yunho's back when he was on the verge of tears hearing your harsh and cold tone. he gulped and started to reply but his lost eyes were staring at you and you were not even minding his presence and Mingi chimed in, "last year. your da- I mean Mr. Byun offered this deal so that we could recover from the loss we had in the last year."

Yeosang added, "we thought to not worry you about this whole ordeal and we could have solved it without including you and then pretend that we were never in this situation."

"we always wanted the best for you. please don't feel sad." Wooyound said slowly beside you and you rolled your eyes.

"So I have been lied for one whole year. you made my only chance to go in vain. why? you thought I will be a problem in this?" you turned towards the leader "were you planning to get married? why did you have to hide this whole thing?"

Jongho was curious, "what only chance you are talking about?"

you smirked at him, "I could have showed Mr. Byun that I have a family which he never gave me. I could have showed him how powerful I am. I am not the weak one he wanted me to be. I could have proved that I am being loved and trusted as a family." You paused and scoffed, “but I think I was delusional all these times.”

Hongjoong clenched his fist on hearing your words and sighed, "Wooyoung and Yunho wanted to tell you about this but I told them and others to keep this discussion away from you. I didn't want to include you because-"

"because you dont trust me. you thought I will support Mr. Byun when you all were crashing to the ground?"

San quickly denied, "no no. we trust you so much y/n. we thought hearing his name or facing him would have hurt you."

Hongjoong nodded and continued, "it would have been more dramatic if people came to know about your relation with Mr. Byun and that you are a part of us inspite of him being our enemy."

"you see me as your enemy?"

"what? no." wooyoung shouted those words at you.

Seonghwa stated quietly, "I'm sorry. I should not have hide these things from you. you should have been told about this earlier. it's really worse for you to find it like this. but trust me we were scared. how to protect you and maintain our organization."

"you made me feel like an outsider."

"I know we did it in that way." Mingi said and looked down.

"After this I can't trust anyone of you like before. Every time now I would feel like you guys are hiding something from me. I will feel like I am somehow related to your enemy and still like before you have the suspicion of me going against you someday."

you paused and inhaled sharply, "I don't know if you guys trust me or not but I have always trusted you more than everything. I trusted you all and whatever you did was to keep me safe and away from this to not hurt me but...atleast you should have let me know about it. My trust would not have broken like this."

Yunho stood up and walked towards you, he turned around your chair and kneeled down, "please Y/n, please we won't hide anything again from you. please talk to me but don't distance yourself from us."

"you gave me no other option. they were engaged all these times, you all met Mr. Byun often and made deals behind my back without even letting me to get a hint of it. I was blinded by the trust that I never noticed you all were lying to me all these times when you were actually going out not to hangout but to meet that monster and this new girl."

You were blinded by the trust that you never noticed they were lying to you.

Wooyoung hugged you from behind, "We only love you. you are everything to me. I never wanted to lie to you but this was the only option. please forget about this and lets go back to normal."

you removed both of their hands from you and stood up. everyone was attentive to your movements. you glanced at the clock and sighed. you were tired and hungry and frustrated. All at the same time and you felt a wave of anger rising inside you.

"you are not leaving us, right?"

"Jongho if I leave right now then where is the thing called 'we can talk out our problems' but yeah that's true that you have made me feel lose my trust on you all."

you paused and then added, "Are you two still engaged with her?"

"yes." both of them quickly replied.

"get rid of her quickly or I will get rid of her from this world."

Both of them nodded.

they all gulped hearing your words and Yeosang grabbed your hand when you stepped forward for the door. you eyed his hand, waited for him to say whatever he wanted but you didn't look in his eyes. you knew if you look at him, you might start crying but you needed some time to recover from this whole situation.

"I'm sorry."

you knew he was sorry but still you were having so many thoughts that you couldn't still place things right on the places. once your trust is broken, it can't be mended so easily and they knew this. each of them were regretting.

"do you trust me?" your words were meant for all and he nodded quickly. you rolled your eyes and licked your lips.

"the ones who trust me, please follow me to the research room, I have kept the pen drive and file there so I can show you the details of it."

"Will you not eat?" San asked you quietly.

"I am not hungry. Finish the research room process with me and then I need to...I will have some time alone."

you glared towards Hongjoong and Seonghwa and left the room, slamming the door shut behind you. They didn't say anything. after all, it was their fault and you felt betrayed with them hiding things from you for one whole year. Mingi was the next one to leave room to quickly follow you and others sighed.

They need to start to build the trust from the beginning. You wanted to hate them but your trust and love for them was too much to hate them. To forget them as your family.

You smiled towards him and pecked him.

you once said, "how can I trust you?"

he smiled and hugged you, "your enemy is my enemy. our enemy and there is nothing that can come between us to tear us apart. you are the precious and the knot of this family. if someone hurts you, we all will be hurt and get scattered."

“We will never lie to you and there will be no secret between us.”

Was that all a lie then?

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

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bvidzsoo · 2 months

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You belong to me

◿Mobster!Hongjoong◸

TW: cursing, violence, death, gun, suggestive

Word count: 3,3k

A/N: How do I stop the grip Ateez has on me?? What do you mean Hongjoong posts some pictures and I get a story idea?? Ugh, anyways, this is just a short drabble because why is Kim Hongjoong so hot and what is his latest Instagram post of his??

The strobing lights of the club were blinding for a few seconds to the newcomers, their eyes forced to quickly adjust to the dim yellowish lightning and the strong pink, purple, and red led lights. They were strung around the club, overhead, lighting up every area of the luxurious place, but they were the strongest on the stage, where dancers walked around and performed using whatever instrument they preferred as props. Some nights I enjoyed pole dancing, but most nights I liked it when I could improvise, dance freely and get lost to the feeling of the freedom music provided. Perhaps my job of choice wasn’t ideal nor well-liked by most people, especially not by my parents, but it paid well and helped me get by quite decently.

It took a little while to get used to the lack of clothing and the hungry of those watching, but in no-time I found myself enjoying the attention, the cheers, the loud howls after my performances…and perhaps the most I enjoyed was the pay check each evening, and the bills men desperate for attention and the touch of a woman would slip into my thin panties or obnoxiously short shorts. The club was in the high-end of the city, only wealthy and influential men visited, courtesy to Kim Hongjoong. A scarily rich and affluential man, well known for his crazed behavior and dangerous affairs with gangs downtown. He was the boss of the underdogs, the man everyone avoided if possible and only got involved with if only very necessary. He was the owner of the club and he took his job very seriously, treating his employees with respect and care, always checking up on them. Misbehaving wasn’t allowed inside his club, and he punished those who didn’t understand this by using creative methods. I had the misfortune of walking in on him waterboarding a man, saying something about how he didn’t respect his end of the deal, before Hongjoong’s eyes found me and I was ushered out of his office, his eyes conveying a silent warning to stay quiet about what I had seen. And I had no intention of telling anyone what I had witnessed, afraid to meet a similar fate to that man.

Kim Hongjoong was someone whom I feared, but also respected. He was diligent and worked hard, at the end of each shift checking in with his performers, making sure they weren’t forced into doing something they didn’t want, checking their bodies for any injuries. At first, I had assumed that he paid more attention to me because I was new, because he didn’t fully trust me yet, and because he was keeping an eye on me to make sure I was being ethical, but upon closer inspection, I’ve come to the realization that Kim Hongjoong didn’t follow every performers steps with watchful eyes, he didn’t buy them drinks once their shifts were over, and he most certainly didn’t arrange his personal driver to drive them home at the crack of dawn, when the streets were deserted and dangerous for a young woman, like myself, to be walking home alone. And Kim Hongjoong certainly didn’t hold his other performers lower backs as he walked them back to their dressing rooms, throwing clothes at them and demanding to cover themselves up. I had assumed there might have been some favoritism towards me as I drew in clients which were filthy rich, but Kim Hongjoong quickly ruined that thought when I overstepped a boundary and meddled with his personal business. He was quick to threaten me that he’d ruin my life if I went running to the police, making me feel small and stupid for even trying to blackmail him. I don’t know what I had been thinking when I did that, but if Hongjoong had paid attention to me up until that point, after my foolish threat he became overbearing, always two steps behind me, and eyes fixed on me during my shifts. It was scary and irritating at the beginning, but I grew used to it after a year of his unceasing behavior and learned to live with the man’s antics. There were times when we ran into each other at the most random places, places where Hongjoong looked completely out of place adorned in his crazily expensive tailored suit, and sleeked back hair. One of said places was the grocery store across from my apartment complex, completely startling me into oblivion as I had been buying some milk, his reflection appearing behind me in the glass door as I had closed it. What was even more unusual was the way he told me I had twenty minutes to get ready before we’d be going out, to where, he didn’t mention. But it turned out he took me out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. Not many words were exchanged between the two of us during the dinner, but the food had been good nonetheless and neither one of us brought it up ever again.

Tonight hadn’t been any usual, I had walked inside the club around eight in the evening, going to my dressing room and dressing up for the night, doing my makeup and hair. When I pushed the door open an outfit had been laid out on my couch and my eyebrows furrowed as I took in the schoolgirl outfit, slightly uncomfortable having to wear it, but when I noticed a note on top of it and signed as KH¸ I knew I didn’t have a choice but to wear it. And my shift had started out as usual, I was up on the stage and performing by ten o’clock, putting on my best performance and charming men left and right. The cheers were louder than usual and I was requested to put on a second show, surprised by the incessant attention, but not completely bothered as I knew the pay check would be higher tonight. Of course, I didn’t miss the way Kim Hongjoong watched both of my performances, leaning against the bar stool, hip resting against it, and a glass filled with whiskey gripped in his hand as his eyes trailed over my body multiple times, following every move of mine. But the night didn’t stop there, and I had gotten my first ever request for a private performance. The others who I worked with had plenty experience with that, but it had been my first time and I was feeling nervous. Yeji had been nice enough to walk me through the steps of what this meant and what was required of me, and she made sure to repeat the rules multiple times, making me repeat them after her. The private rooms were small and dimly lit, a huge sofa inside with a coffee table in front of it. There was a stereo and a pole in the corner of the room.

The man who had request for a private dance was gruffy and on the older side, but he was well dressed and looked put together as he sipped on his expensive champagne, grinning when I had walked inside. I pushed down my nerves and ignored the slight tremble of my limbs as I thanked the man for the request and stated the rules firmly, reminding him multiple times that he wasn’t allowed to touch me unless I gave him permission, before I put on the music and started dancing, using the pole as well. It felt weird performing for one man only and I found myself uncomfortable as the man watched me with hungry eyes, his grip on the glass tightening with each passing minute, making me hope that the booked time would be soon over. Half an hour wasn’t much at all, but it felt like an eternity, and I had to force myself to imagine the man I was dancing for was someone else…someone younger, someone more handsome, someone who’s smile was crazed and his cat-like eyes burned holes into your skull, gazing deeply into your soul. When the music finally stopped, I felt like I could breathe again, desperate to get out and away from the eyes of the man, who was licking his lips hungrily as I stepped away from the pole and bowed slightly, going up to the coffee table to collect my payment, but as I reached out, his warm hand grabbed my wrist tightly.

“I’ll pay twice as much for a lap dance.” I was stunned for a second as I looked at the man, softly trying to pry my wrist out of his hold.

“You paid for half an hour, sir, I’m afraid we part ways here.” I kept my voice leveled and the man didn’t seem to appreciate what he heard as he scoffed.

“Twice is not good enough for you? Fine, then I’ll pay thrice the amount I just paid right now.” And then, a nasty smirk spread on his lips, as he unexpectedly yanked on my wrist, making me fall onto his lap, “Don’t be shy, baby girl, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

I felt disgust wash over me and I gasped, trying to push myself off him, but he had sneaked an arm around my middle and squeezed me to himself. My skin tingled and my stomach flipped, bile rising up into my throat. I tried to keep the scowl off my face, but I couldn’t help it as my eyes hardened.

“I stated clearly you are not allowed to touch me, so let go of me, right now.” I demanded, trying to push myself off of him again as the man just scoffed and looked at me with an amused expression.

“Really? I think you do want me to touch you, baby girl. You’re just playing hard to get, but you don’t have to do that with me, I already want you badly.” As if to prove a point, he bucked his hips upwards and disgust coursed through my veins and showed on my face as I felt his hard-on, balling my hands up into fists, ready to pound them into his face.

“Release me, right now.” I snapped, voice harsher than ever before as I felt my hands trembling, hating the smug look on the motherfucker’s face as he went to push my hair behind my shoulders, but I quickly slapped his hand away, hard.

“Don’t be rude, I just paid you, bitch.” He hissed and I chuckled.

“And I said let go of me, you old fuck.” I hissed, squaring the man up. Before he could open his mouth to say anything back, I heard the curtain behind me separating us from the rest of the club pulled open harshly, and a familiar voice sounding eerily calm.

“Was the lady not clear enough the first time?” I could hear the sneer in Kim Hongjoong’s voice and I turned my head, taken aback by the dark look on his face, the harsh clenching of his jaw and the handgun in his left hand. I tried not to let my surprise show as I shoved at the man again, but he still didn’t let go of me. It was getting frustrating and I raised my hand and slapped him, momentarily taking him off guard as I swiftly slipped out of his loosened grip.

“You bitch!” The old man yelled and stood, but didn’t get far as Hongjoong pointed his gun at the man, an amused smirk appearing on his lips. He walked further inside the room, with his right hand in his pocket, and came to a stop next to me as I had put distance between the man and myself. He chuckled as his eyes rested on me for a few seconds, lazily looking back at the older man.

“You said you’ll pay thrice the amount? I don’t see the money—”

“And you won’t see it, fucker, I’m not paying this bitch at all.” And the man snatched the money, fallen on the couch now, up with anger written all over his face as Hongjoong chuckled, and suddenly I felt his right arm draping over my shoulders, yanking me into his side. I stumbled slightly and gasped quietly, surprised by Hongjoong’s actions.

“That’s very unfortunate,” Hongjoong sighed dramatically and I felt his fingers rubbing my shoulder, a sly grin slipping onto his lips, “I must demand you apologize to Y/N for disrespecting her and clearly not following the rules.”

The man chuckled and eyed Hongjoong as if he were crazy, “You wish, fucker. This club is a piece of shit, I’m going to ruin you and your shitty ass business.”

“For somebody your age your vocabulary is quite lacking.” The man’s face turned red at the insult, prompting Hongjoong to chuckle as I tried to hide my own amused smirk, staring the old man down. Hongjoong’s hand suddenly started slipping low, down to my middle until it stopped at my waist and suddenly he was looking at me, eyes glazed over with a crazy glint in them, lips pulled into a grin resembling that of a Chesire cat’s, “Tell me, gorgeous, what should I do with him now?”

My mind was blank as I stared into Hongjoong’s deep eyes, getting lost in them, feeling drawn to him as if he were a magnet, “Whatever you wish, Hongjoong.”

A wide, satisfied, grin appeared on his lips as he bit his lower lip, eyes glinting in the dim light, “Anything?”

I gulped and found myself breathless, his expensive cologne invading my senses and his warmth making my skin warm in the best possible way, “You are the boss.”

Hongjoong chuckled and looked satisfied as he turned his head to face the older man, clicking his tongue as he shook his head at him, “Look at you…I hope you said your goodbyes before coming here, because you won’t be doing any talking no more with that foul mouth of yours, you old pig.”

And Hongjoong raised his arm, the safety off as he pulled the trigger, the gun silent, yet still making my ears ring as I jumped in Hongjoong’s hold, squeezing my eyes shut. He had shot the man, pulled the trigger like it meant nothing, as if taking away a life meant nothing to him. I felt myself tremble as Hongjoong’s hold tightened around me and I was being moved, my back turned to the dead man as I felt hands cupping my face, “Open your eyes, gorgeous. Look at me.”

I gulped and took a shaky breath, body trembling as I forced myself to look at Hongjoong, taken aback by the cold expression on his face. He looked unphased, almost content, as he caressed my cheeks, leaning dangerously close as his eyebrows furrowed, he was no longer holding the gun, “Nobody but me is allowed to touch you, gorgeous, do you understand?”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, trying to ignore the stench of blood which permeated the room suddenly, the hairs on my arms standing as my muscles were tense, “Use your words, Y/N.”

“I understand.” I whispered, voice shaky, as I stared into Hongjoong’s eyes, a pleased expression crossing his features. He hummed before suddenly whistling, startling me as Hongjoong released me, but grabbed the back of my head to prevent me from turning around, as if I had doing that in mind. Suddenly, four men walked inside, men I haven’t seen before, and Hongjoong glanced at them and nodded behind me wordlessly, the men springing into action. They walked past us and I realized they were here to take care of the dead man, but we didn’t stick around for longer as Hongjoong suddenly turned and started leading us out of the room and towards my dressing room, making me nervous as I tried to ignore the whirling thoughts that I was witness to my boss killing someone. What if the police come searching for the dead man? What if they question me? I knew Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate killing me too, the thought made it a bit hard to breathe, but I just kept stiffly walking as Hongjoong’s hand slipped to my nape, veering me around effortlessly and away from the curious eyes as he pushed me inside my dressing room and closed the door with a loud slam. I jumped and detached myself from him, putting distance between our bodies as I whirled around, looking at Hongjoong with wide eyes. He was smirking as he leaned against the door, rubbing his chin as he placed his hand in his pocket. I gulped and waited for him to say something, but he just took out his pack of cigarettes and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly. Our eyes locked together and I gulped, suddenly feeling exposed.

“Let’s be honest with each other, Y/N.” Hongjoong spoke up after he took another drag of his cigar, “Will I have to worry about you rattling to others about what you just witnessed?”

I gulped, lacing my fingers together in front of myself, “Will you kill me if I did?”

“Of course.” Hongjoong answered without hesitation and my gut twisted, hands suddenly trembling again. I gulped and nodded, letting him know that I understood.

“Then I won’t say anything to anyone.” I found myself quietly saying, “But you have to promise to help me out when the police gets involved.”

Hongjoong chuckled, and took another long drag of his cigar as he suddenly pushed off the door, and walked towards me, “Oh, gorgeous, do not worry about the police. Even they know not to meddle with my business. This will be our little secret; can you keep it?”

He blew the smoke in my face and I gulped, trying to not cringe from the smell, “I’ll—I promise to keep this a secret.”

“Lovely.” Hongjoong whispered as he threw his cigar on the floor and stepped on it, making my eyes widen as he burned out the carpet, but he seemed uncaring of it as he placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head up, looking me in the eyes, “Private shows are off limits from now on, to everyone. Understood, gorgeous?”

“Yes.” I muttered, and my breath stilled in my lungs as Hongjoong leaned incredibly close, his lips ghosting over mine as he smirked.

“These men will be never able to offer you what I can give you.” And Hongjoong pressed his lips against mine, harsh and hungry as they slipped open while his hand slipped to my neck, wrapping around it as his body was pressed flush against mine. I gasped into the kiss as I felt his tongue pushing past my lips, exploring my mouth, groaning into it as Hongjoong devoured my lips ferociously, walking us backwards. I grabbed the sides of his suit and held onto him, blindly letting Hongjoong walk me anywhere, his sweet taste blooming in my mouth as he sucked on my tongue, my fingers tangling in his black hair, the back of my legs hitting the sofa behind me suddenly. Hongjoong quickly cut the kiss short and pushed me down by my neck, making me look up at him in confusion as he smirked, easing me down into the cushions. My heart was thundering in my chest as his eyes burned with want and passion, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, gripping my thighs as my skin flamed, making me gulp as my hands clenched into fists at my sides, chest heaving. He slowly peeled my legs open and yanked me lower on the sofa, biting his lower lip as his eyes followed the smooth skin of my legs, stopping just where my skirt had ridden up. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked up at me, leaning closer.

“Let me show you how queens get treated, gorgeous.”

Masterlist

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bro-atz · 2 months

Text

friends to lovers to strangers [trope — hongjoong]

inspired by: periwinkle — short story + genesis — smau by @songmingisthighs

word count: 3.3k

content: angst, smut, kitchen sex, gradual heartbreak, ofc joong chooses his career over you, completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: periwinkle was a short story i wrote for my ex-best friend many years ago... i have no idea if this is just as devastating, but i tried my best to make it as heartbreaking as periwinkle. if you ever wanna read periwinkle, lmk and i might just post it here

trope masterlist

It wasn’t romantic at first. It was very friendly. You met Hongjoong at one of your friend’s parties— Mingi loved celebrating the randomest things, and you usually avoided his parties due to said randomness, but you finally went, and that was when you met Hongjoong.

He was very different from what you were expecting. Well, you didn’t know that you were going to meet him that day, but based off Mingi’s personality (and the personalities of a lot of his friends), Hongjoong was the oddest one out. He was calm, collected, watched his limits while drinking instead of downing everything in sight, and he was a lot of fun to talk to.

The first night you met him, you spent a lot of time just trash-talking Mingi and his friends. You didn’t hate them, per se, but it was so easy to make fun of their dumbass decisions, and just reminiscing and sharing stories about them was a lot of fun. Honestly, if it weren’t for Hongjoong, you probably would have never gone to another one of Mingi’s parties.

You and Hongjoong bonded fast. Granted, you only ever talked to him when you met him at parties, but you spent a lot of the time at those parties together. You would drink, share stories about your childhood, and he would drink and tell you thing about his brother, who you grew to like just by hearing those stories of his.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you prodded Hongjoong’s shoulder one night when you were particularly tipsy. “You have my number, right?”

“Yeah, I do. What about it?”

“Why don’t you ever text me to hang out? I feel like it’d be fun to talk during the day, too,” you pouted.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I was waiting for you to text first,” Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s easier to work around your schedule since you work that nine to five as an HR associate—”

“HR director now, actually! I got promoted.”

“Wow! Congratulations,” Hongjoong beamed at you, his gummy smile more of a compliment than his words. “But, see, you’re super dedicated to your job, and my sleep schedule is usually fucked since I spend so much time at the studio—”

“Right! Because you’re a composer,” you said a little too loudly. “Right.”

“But I promise,” Hongjoong took your hand. “Text me, and we’ll make plans during the day.”

“You promise? You promise to actually make plans with me instead of sleep through them like some people?” you asked while nodding your head over to Mingi who was busy doing shots out of the bartender’s belly button.

“I promise.”

Hongjoong stuck to his promise. It was honestly really fucking difficult to make plans with him, but he said he would make it for coffee at least once a week, and that he did. Talking to him during the daytime was a lot more pleasant than you expected. You were a little worried that you enjoyed his company only while you were drunk because you only ever talked to him when you had a couple shots in you, but he proved to be great conversation outside of the party scene as well.

You texted him frequently, asking him if he wanted to go for coffee or watch a movie— anything just to spend time with him. You truly loved spending time with him, and he, you. You had never felt so comfortable with another human being in your entire life before, and every single time you met with him, he just exceeded your expectations further.

“Okay, tell me,” you were on the phone with him trying to make plans. “What movie do you want to see?”

“Sleepless in Seattle,” he responded.

You blinked and frowned. There were many things about his response that threw you for a curve. For one thing, you thought you were going to go to a movie theater; another was that Sleepless in Seattle was an old movie, so the only way you were going to be able to watch that is if you went to his apartment or he came to yours; and the last thing was that Sleepless in Seattle was a romantic comedy, and Hongjoong definitely did not seem to be the type to enjoy movies like that.

“I… Uh,” you cleared your throat. “I have many questions.”

“I’ll be happy to answer them, but it’ll have to be later. I gotta finish this up real quick. Just come to my place by seven, okay?”

You could barely accept his conditions before he hung up abruptly. Sleepless in Seattle in Hongjoong’s apartment it was.

Honestly, his choice of movie was enough for you to get a hint of what he was trying to say to you, but you doubted it slightly when you saw him paying so much attention to the soundtrack, only for those doubts to vanish when he silently moved closer to you, his shoulder pressing against yours as you both pretended to focus on the movie.

“Hey, Y/N, I was curious…” Hongjoong whispered. “Have you ever thought about... You know… How comfortable our friendship is?”

“I mean, I do sometimes,” you admitted.

“And… Do you ever wonder…”

You turned your head and made eye contact with him. Honestly, you never really got a good look at Hongjoong’s face until right then and there. His eyes were slightly widened as he looked at you, and his lips were parted ever-so-slightly to the point where you could catch a brief glimpse of his beautiful teeth— and, God, his perfectly shaped nose. You felt your chest tighten the longer you looked at him, all of the words in your vocabulary getting caught up in the traffic jam in your chest.

Neither of you uttered a word. The credits rolled in the background as your lips pressed against Hongjoong’s gently, his hand slowly reaching up to brush your hair away from your face and tuck the strays behind your ear. He kissed you slowly but sensually, the feeling of his lips encompassing yours making your entire body warm up with what you could only describe as affection.

It was safe to say that your friendship was pretty much shot to hell after that kiss, but it didn’t matter since you found a lover in your friend. People always said to find a friend in your lover, but the other way around was just as good from what you could tell.

“Okay, so for dinner,” you started explaining as you stood in Hongjoong’s kitchen. “I was thinking either pasta or chicken.”

“What about chicken pasta?” Hongjoong asked as he entered his kitchen and stood alongside you, the two of you staring into the refrigerator at the groceries he had left.

“Sure, we can do that,” you mused out loud as you thought about different ways you could pair the two.

“Yay,” Hongjoong cheered quietly before hugging you from behind. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

Hongjoong rocked you back and forth as he continued to embrace you before swaying side to side. You held onto Hongjoong’s arms and closed your eyes as you let him guide this music-less dance. He spun you around and held you as he continued to move around the kitchen and hum a pretty little melody.

He stopped hugging you, his hands immediately searching for yours. He held your hands and began dancing properly with you, the melody from his soul getting louder. He didn’t sing any lyrics, just the tune of the song— a song he was most likely composing. The smile on your face only got wider as you looked at Hongjoong and his cheesy, beautiful grin, little giggles and sighs dissipating in the romantic atmosphere in the kitchen.

Spontaneity was Hongjoong’s favorite thing, which was something you noticed in your friendship with him that only got more intense when you started dating. He loved to whisk you away for romantic date nights, trips to the movies— once, you were craving deep-fried Oreos and mentioned it passively, but he went all the way to your favorite candy shop and got it for you without even batting an eyelash.

And of course, his favorite thing was spontaneous sex.

“Sweetheart,” Hongjoong whispered when the two of you gradually stopped dancing. “Do you want to maybe make dinner later…?”

“Won’t you be hungry after, though?”

“I’m hungry right now,” Hongjoong was quick to answer, his eyes narrowing and his skin slowly reddening.

He grabbed your waist and kept you close to him, his actions still soft, but the intensity in his eyes getting stronger the closer you pressed against him. There was no stopping Hongjoong now. The second you gave Hongjoong a tiny nod, he grabbed your waist and sat you down on the marble dining table.

“Strip, but keep the apron on,” he told you before heading into his bedroom to grab a condom.

You didn’t think Hongjoong had a kitchen sex fantasy, but you weren’t questioning— the look on his face got you all sorts of hot and bothered; so much so that you definitely wanted him more than he wanted you.

Hongjoong returned with the condom on, and the second he stood in front of you, he pushed your shoulder down so that you were laying down on the the surface, your legs dangling off the edge. Hongjoong hovered above you and lifted your apron slightly, his cock barely grazing your clit as he rubbed against the outside of your cunt. Your knees trembled with the feeling, making you hold onto his forearms, your grip on him getting more intense with his every movement.

“Joong,” you sighed out. “I just want you in me already.”

“You and me both, sweetheart, but I don’t want to hurt you,” Hongjoong said, the tip rubbing against your folds a little more vigorously.

Once Hongjoong deemed you wet enough, he pushed into you slowly, your walls stretching slowly, sensually. A pleasureful sigh danced on your lips as Hongjoong’s cock started to give you the relief you needed.

Hongjoong moved his arm out of your grasp so that he could stand upright grab the fabric of your apron and bunch it in his clutches, leaving your breasts exposed as he did so. His hands played with your breasts as he started moving, his waist rolling into yours. He either rubbed circles on your nipples with his thumbs or held your breasts tightly as he kept a steady pace with his thrusts.

You were biting your lower lip and letting out little gasps and sighs the more he explored your body with his hands. The marble of the countertop was starting to heat up under your flaming hot body, sweat starting to cover your forehead and arms. A single drop of sweat rolled down Hongjoong’s temple, and it dropped onto your cheek when he bent over you again, his face near yours as he leaned in close. He had let go of your breasts at that point and held your thighs to push them closer to you, your lower back starting to lift off the countertop and change the angle at which he was thrusting into you.

“Shit, J-Joong,” you stuttered when you felt his cock rub inside you just right, the heat within you starting to build. “Just like that…”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and licked your lips as you looked into his eyes, your lips craving his. Apparently, he read your look correctly because he was kissing you seconds later, a slight smile appearing on his face the more desperate your kisses became. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and unconsciously began to roll your hips into his, the increased friction bringing you closer to your impending high.

It was when Hongjoong slammed his hips into yours with a force you weren’t anticipating did your body tingle all over. You broke off the kiss and moaned loudly as you came, your legs wrapping around his waist and pressing into him as your pussy convulse and get tighter.

“Sweetheart— Shit— So tight,” Hongjoong hissed.

You for sure thought Hongjoong was going to cum, but instead, he pulled you off the table and spun you around so that your torso was pressed into the cool marble and your legs were barely supporting you as he fucked you from behind.

The feeling of your nipples rubbing against the cool surface and the hot friction inside you made sparks appear every time you blinked, waves of pleasure threatening to swallow you. Hongjoong was holding your ass tightly as he thrust exponentially faster while grunting, his breathing getting shallower.

Without warning, Hongjoong wrapped his arm around you and started circling your clit, overstimulating you like crazy. You flung your head back and cried as you came for the second time, this time Hongjoong coming with you, his own groan overpowering your voice.

You whimpered slightly when you felt Hongjoong pull out, the warmth within you dissipating quickly. You slowly pushed yourself up and watched as Hongjoong took the condom off and threw it away. He returned to you and trapped you against the table, his hands on either side of you and a smile spreading on his face.

“Now, how about dinner?” he asked.

You couldn’t think about dinner— all you could think about was how sexy Hongjoong looked in that moment. His eyes were still filled with lust, and you could see out of the corner of your own eye that his cock was twitching. You kissed him and brought your hand to his dick, your fingers lightly rubbing along his length and making him rock hard all over again.

“Let’s just get food delivered,” you whispered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Hongjoong smiled and kissed you back.

His hands ran through your hair and gripped the roots of your hair as his kiss went from gentle to intense with half a second. The string of intense kisses continued as you wrapped your arms around him, your body pressing into his.

He led you to his bedroom, and the two of you laid on his bed as you continued to kiss, your limbs entangling with each other and the sheets below. A small, happy sigh left the man as he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his smile blissful.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Hongjoong.”

Love doesn’t last. Love isn’t strong enough to keep everything from falling apart, and it’s always the little flaws you come to love at first that end up being the reason you can’t do it anymore.

Except, in the case of Hongjoong, it wasn’t a little flaw— it was a huge, glaring one. You’d know about it since the very beginning because he said it himself: his career was everything to him.

Now that the two of you were older, he was putting more time and energy into his music, which meant he was definitely phoning the relationship in. And you wanted to be understanding of him. His career was truly everything to him, but you should be too. After all, the two of you had been dating for a couple years by that point.

“I know that you were in the studio all day, but send a text wouldn’t kill you!” you said loudly, your frustration start to rise to the surface.

“I told you I get no reception in this new studio, Y/N!”

“You could’ve texted me after you got out!”

“I was driving! You want me to text and drive?!”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“That’s what it sounds like to me.”

You huffed and ran your fingers through your hair, your hands starting to tremble with emotion. You tried your best to rationalize your thoughts, but when you were angry, there was no stopping revealing how you actually felt.

“Do you even care for me, Hongjoong? It seems like all you care about is sitting in the studio and rotting away.”

“Hey, you knew this about me. My career is everything,” Hongjoong’s voice got harder, and you could sense a little resentment in his voice.

“What about me, then? What am I to you?”

“You’re someone I love.”

“Love isn’t enough sometimes, Hongjoong. I don’t just need a bread winner. I need a companion or a friend or literally anything else to keep me company. I’m tired of waking up in an empty bed and going to sleep in an empty bed!”

Hongjoong went silent, and you continued.

“I’m tired of being lonely, Hongjoong. I’m tired of waiting for a text back from you. I’m tired of being neglected… Tell me honestly. Are you even in the studio, or are you out with someone else?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you if there’s someone else in your life, Hongjoong.”

“That is beyond the line, Y/N. Being upset with me for dedicating my life to my career is one thing, but insinuating that I’m not actually working and spending time with another person is too far.”

“You seem to be defending yourself pretty hard there.”

“How fucking hard should I be defending myself then?! If I don’t say enough, then you accuse me, and if I say too much, then you still accuse me! This mentality— This is toxic.”

“What?!”

“This is toxic! You’re accusing me of cheating on you just because I’ve been acting the same way I’ve been acting since we first met!”

“You used to text me way more back in the past because if you were texting me the in the past the same way you’re texting me now, then this would’ve never happened.”

Then, you stopped. You changed. You changed. You lost sight of yourself in this relationship, and you forgot that you, too, were a career person, but you put your own life on the back burner for a man. You were a stranger to yourself.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need some time to myself. Just… Leave me alone for a bit, okay?”

Those were the last words you ever said to him. You texted him occasionally to check in on him, but he was still horrible at responding, and after some time, you dropped it. It was over. Neither of you had to officially declare it, but you both knew that it was over.

You focused on your career. While you were dating Hongjoong, you were kind of standing still in your career as an HR coordinator, not really looking to move up the ladder. After you broke up, though, you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into your job, and after about five years, you were up for a VP position. You had bounced between different companies over those years, and finally, you landed that position at a talent agency.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Hongjoong was signed under that talent agency, and you didn’t know that until you started working there.

You were walking through the halls when you saw him standing and chatting to one of the singers under your agency. Your heart sank upon seeing him, and it only got worse from there when you saw their fingers intertwined. His gummy smile which was once yours was now dedicated to the singer in front of him, and eyes sparkled. Your heart officially hit the ground when you saw him glance in your direction, that sparkle immediately vanishing.

Neither of you uttered a word. You cleared your throat and walked past with your head held high, and right before you rounded the corner, you looked behind you to see if he was looking at you, but no. He was in his own world with his new girl.

You were not only a stranger to yourself, but you had become one to him as well.

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noramoons · 4 months

Text

what lies beneath | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren au, artist!reader

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, slight horror themes, mentions/descriptions of food, Family Issues as a plot point (💀)

word count: 13.5k

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

You had been sure of several things before you spent the summer at the beach with your cousins.

One, that you were not an "outside" person. You couldn't stand fishing, you hated lying underneath the sun to tan—you could swim well enough, you supposed, to keep yourself afloat—but that was it.

Two, that there was nothing more embarrassing than being a tourist in a town you'd practically grown up in.

And three, that sea monsters of any kind were absolutely, completely, 100% fictional.

It was fun to pretend as a child, sure—you remember plenty of summers playing in the ocean with your friends, or listening to your uncle tell scary stories to you and your siblings about the creatures he'd seen in his time in the navy or deep-sea fishing—but that was it. Pretending. You knew that just as well as the rest of them did.

Which is why it's now somewhat embarrassing to be back here—spending yet another summer with your extended family, and now seeing your younger cousins now running up and down the side of your uncle's small pontoon boat. "Fish-man!" one of them cries out, pointing towards the water. "I saw it! I swear!"

The other one nods. "He was huge!"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel behind you. "I bet he was! I always heard they like to catch the sides of the waves the boats make for speed—can't get too close, though, or they'll get chomped by the propellers!" He makes a chomping gesture by opening and closing his fist, and your cousins giggle.

"You heard?" you ask, turning around from the seat near the bow. "I thought you always said you'd seen those fish-men with your own two eyes back in the day, Uncle."

He smirks at you. "Those were the deep-sea days. I've never seen any creatures this close to shore, but who knows?" he shrugs, winning at you. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn back around, the spray of the saltwater coming up on either side refreshing enough to distract you from the stories your cousins are now hurriedly making up behind you.

The rest of the day is decidedly less painful; your uncle is considerate enough to let you stay on the boat when he anchors it on a nearby island, so you're able to at least attempt relaxing while your cousins run amuck on the shore. By the time you're finally pulling back in to the dock behind your uncle's house on the bay, you can already see the hues of pink and orange growing in the sky as the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon.

Your cousins make a mad dash for the house once they're within leaping distance of the dock, and you let out an exasperated sigh when you realize it's just you and your uncle left on the boat. You know exactly what that means—all the work's been left to you.

He grins at you. "You remember how to tie her to the dock, don't you?" As if this hasn't been your job on-and-off for the last ten years.

You offer a faint smile in response, but you keep yourself from saying anything negative while you pull out the ropes from beneath the seats, tying them into the knots you know from memory around the poles on the dock. You don't want to complain in front of your uncle—he's never been anything less than kind to you, especially letting you stay at his house this summer out of nowhere when you told him you needed a place to stay for a while, even when it's been over five years since your last summer here. No questions asked, although you're sure he's curious.

You might tell him the truth. Eventually.

His voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. "If you've got it covered, I'm gonna head inside and start on dinner."

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. "What are we eating?"

He smiles at you. "Guess you'd better hurry up and find out."

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don't complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it'll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it's then that you see it.

There's a face in the water—and it isn't yours.

No. You're seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it's not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thoughts out of your head of what you know you couldn't have possibly seen.

When the knot's finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you'd been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as you peer over the edge of the dock—and it isn't your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don't know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren't sure. You're finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It's then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That's strange—you'd been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you've just awoken from a dream. You don't know how you've gotten here so suddenly, but you've definitely moved—you've turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it's gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

Your mind races to find an explanation. You've been in the sun for hours. You must not have had much sleep last night. Your cousins are driving you insane and they've finally pushed you past the brink. One of those, surely, has to be the answer for whatever the hell you've just seen.

It's all you can think about during dinner—you hardly touch the clam chowder your uncle had prepared. He notices the small helping you've poured for yourself when you sit down at the table, and you see him frown out of the corner of your eye. "Feeling alright, Y/N?"

You nod quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine. Think I might've been out in the sun for too long today—I'll probably just get some water after dinner and head to bed."

He nods, visibly relaxing at your words. "Ah. That certainly can happen—I saw far too many colleagues faint back in the day after a long shift. It's brutal, that sun. That reminds me of one particular instance, actually—couldn't have been less than twenty years ago, I'll bet, when..."

He launches into another fishing anecdote, much to the delight of your cousins, while you continue to mentally spiral for the duration of dinner, locked in your own thoughts and what you know you couldn't have possibly seen. Your behavior, however, means your uncle doesn't mind at all when you go up to your room early—and when night finally falls and everyone else has gone to bed, no one notices you creeping back downstairs, either.

You have to know. You'll never be able to go to sleep tonight if you can't confirm whatever the hell you saw in the water earlier.

Your stomach interrupts your thoughts, piercing the quiet living room with an unfortunate grumble.

"Shit," you swear softly to yourself. You're hungry—it's no wonder. You barely ate dinner, and you only picked at a few snacks on the boat earlier. It certainly won't assuage your fears if you scare away whatever that thing was if your stomach growls the minute you step outside.

You quickly grab the first thing your eyes land on out of the first shelf in the refrigator—an apple, before finally striding over to the door and making your way back outside as quietly and nimbly as you can.

You practically run back to the edge of the dock, peering into the inky blackness of the water illuminated simply by the moonlight, only to find your own reflection staring back at you. There's nothing.

And you want to be reassured by that fact. You had to have been seeing things earlier, then—a result of the afternoon spent under the blistering sun, doing things to your eyes and your mind, and yet—

You have to check. You'll just dip a toe in, maybe—you're already barefoot, anyway. Nothing bites at your toe when you do, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting the waves lap at your skin.

Well. You suppose to be really sure, you'll have to get in the water. It feels much better now than it did earlier today, you think as you lower yourself in up to your waist, still holding onto the dock with one hand, apple in the other. You don't remember the water ever feeling this good—this inviting. You wonder what it would feel like to go all the way up to your neck. Maybe even to go all the way underwater, to feel it enveloping every inch.

That last thought particularly entices you, so you let go of the dock, holding your hand (and the apple) above the water while you submerge the rest of your body beneath the waves. You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater. Does it even matter, though? It wouldn't be so bad to stay here like this forever—

"...What is this?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by a muffled voice above you, piercing the silence and suddenly reminding you how long you've been underwater. Panic sets in almost immediately as you kick toward the surface, gasping for breath when your head breaches the waves again, breathing in sweet, fresh air as your arms attempt to tread water.

Well—arm. Singular. Someone else is holding on to your other arm, you realize far too late—the arm that's currently clutching that poor, stupid apple. A hand is wrapped around your wrist, and you feel dread sinking through your chest when your eyes follow the hand back to its owner. Perhaps that dread is why you aren't at all surprised when you once again lock eyes with the creature from earlier, this time his head and chest above water.

He looks at your sputtering form, unsurprised, before turning back to stare at the apple in your hand, head tilting to the side. "What is this?" you hear him repeat. His voice is incredibly raspy—as if he hasn't used it in years.

His lack of recognition towards you is almost irritating—as if he's disappointed that you exist. "...What?" you finally ask.

He brings another hand out of the water to tap at the apple. "This," he says. "I don't know what this is. Tell me."

You're still struggling for breath. "I...I'll tell you what it is if you let me back onto the dock."

He turns back to face you—quickly, head shifting far too quickly for something human. "No," he says, grip on your wrist unrelenting. "Tell me what it is."

Shit. "It's an apple," you say, frustration suddenly blooming in your chest. You're going to die because of an apple. Because you couldn't be bothered to eat your uncle's clam chowder for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you ever get out of this, you swear on every god listening that you'll eat second helpings of every meal that man makes for the rest of your life. "You eat it."

Apparently you eat it to this creature means you can eat it—because he's lunging forward suddenly, bringing his teeth that look much more like that of a shark's than like the teeth in your own mouth onto the apple in your palm, tearing away a bite and swallowing it whole. God, you hope you aren't about to meet the same fate.

He makes a face, turning to look at you. "It's weird."

You heave a sigh. This is insane, you think. Maybe you really did lose your mind earlier on the boat—it's all your cousins' fault. Has to be. Hearing that constant, nonstop chatter about the overseas vacation they just went on (their third this year alone), and the toys the twins got for their birthdays, and the teacher at school they really don't like, has finally made you snap. "I don't know what to tell you," you say. "You said you'd never had it before. And you're stealing—I was going to eat that."

He lets go of your wrist from his damp grasp. "Hmm. You can have the rest of it, I guess."

He has let go of you. Every logical nerve in your body is screaming at you to start swimming, to pedal back up to the dock as fast as you can and scream for your uncle—but you don't. He let go of you. He had just wanted the apple.

You stare at him. You'd been right before—every feature of his is far too sharp to be human. The edge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones—everything except his eyes. They're dark, as dark as the night sky behind you, but they're soft. They hold none of the sharpness of what you can see of the rest of his body.

You think back to the beginning of the day—to the stories of the fish-men your uncle had tried to spook your cousins with as you drove around the inlet. Damn him to hell—he was right.

You aren't sure who you're angrier at—him, for being correct about something so utterly insane, or you, for not being smart enough to realize he was telling the truth.

The creature in the water notices you staring at him. He blinks at you, tilting his head to the side. His gaze hasn't left you for a single instant, but there's something else spreading across his face now, tugging up the side of his lips in a faint smile.

"You aren't afraid," he says now, the rasp in his voice gradually beginning to ebb away.

You notice him watching your arms treading water now, apple bobbing beside you, but you don't say anything about it. You also don't say anything about how he isn't treading water but is still staying perfectly afloat—something else is propelling him to stay upright. And you think you may have an idea of what it is. "I...I don't know. I don't think so," is the only thing you can offer in response. "I don't know what you are."

He thinks for a moment. "A...a siren was what your people called us the last time we went to the surface."

A siren. You'll admit you didn't always pay constant attention in school, especially reading the Odyssey nearly three years ago, but you have a clear enough recollection of what these creatures were. Their entire purpose was to lure sailors to their deaths with their charms, wrecking their ships with a few words of a song.

"We couldn't come up to the surface very often then," he adds thoughtfully, remembering. "Too much of that black smoke in the air. That's what my father said, anyway."

Black smoke? You're confused for a moment before it dawns on you—you distinctly remember your uncle telling you that the railroad used to lie almost perfectly adjacent to the bay his house now resides on, back in the day before they'd decided to reroute the tracks to make room for the neighborhoods they were building. And if the trains the siren in front of you remembers were still billowing out black smoke...

Christ, how old is he, anyway?

"I'm supposed to drown you," he says plainly.

You furrow your brow at him. "You can try, I guess. I used to be pretty good at swimming."

He laughs at that too. The sound of his laugh is unbearably musical—light and gentle and not at all comparable to the rasp his voice had been at first, nor is it fitting for a creature who had just said he was here to kill you. "I almost did. That's how you ended up in the water—don't you see?"

Oh. Fuck. He must have been in your head, practically—convincing you to get in the water. It's what'd he done earlier in the day too, you realize—when you'd gotten in all the way up to your ankles without realizing. "How...how'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "I just hum. Some of my brothers are good at singing, but I think humming does the same thing at a much quieter rate. Harder to get caught that way."

"Does that happen to you often?" you ask. "Getting caught?"

He seems to ponder that for a moment. "No. I...I didn't have any plans on telling you this, but I've never actually drowned anyone before. You've been my first attempt."

You scoff at that. "I guess you're not a very good siren, then."

He stares at you, and you wonder for a split second if you've just made a fatal mistake by running your mouth, like you always do—but the edges of his lips quirk up in a strange smile. "That's not all we do, you know. We were the record-keepers of the ocean, back in the days before that fool Homer decided to only focus on our...occasional people-drowning habits. Once you become known for something, no one really cares what you used to do."

You blink at him. "Sorry, I...are you trying to make me feel bad for you? After you tried to drown me?"

His smile widens. "But I didn't drown you! I decided not to. Because I wanted to know what that was in your hand." He looks down at the apple bobbing in the water between the two of you. "Do you have anything else like this?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Why? Do you want to go through all the fruit in our fridge and take a single bite out of each one?"

He cocks his head slightly at you. "Why would I do that?"

Because it's what you just did, you want to yell at him—but you don't. Some semblance of common sense must be returning to you, now that you know you aren't in mortal danger.

He continues anyway. "I want to go back to our record-keeping ways. I like learning things. I've never spoken to a human before now—I've already learned so much. I know what an apple is. I know how easy it is to tell you to drown yourself."

You try to ignore the way your blood freezes cold for an instant at that last comment—and the way he gives you a knowing look after it leaves his lips. You think you may have a better understanding of what your situation is, now. "So you decided not to drown me because you wanted to know about the apple. You...you're only going to keep me alive if I keep bringing you things that you find interesting?"

But he shakes his head no. "You can go back up to the land now. I won't stop you. I was just suggesting that you'd think about doing me a favor, since I did one for you."

Deciding not to drown me isn't much of a favor—but you keep that to yourself. "You really wouldn't stop me if I went back up the dock? If I never set foot in the water again? Won't you...I don't know, get in trouble with the siren police or whoever you answer to?"

A bemused expression flashes across his face. "No, I don't answer to anyone. We used to travel in packs—and I think some still do, especially in the southern sects of the Pacific, but most of us are solitary, now. I do whatever I want."

“Must be nice," you reply before you can think to stop yourself.

He frowns a little at that. "What do you mean? You're the masters of the world as we know it, aren't you?" There may be a little edge of mocking at the end of that sentence, but neither of you comment on it.

Instead, you take one arm out of the water briefly to try to wave your words away, accidentally flicking a few drops of water on his face—but he doesn't even flinch. "Look—I shouldn't have said that,” you say.

"Who could possibly be telling you what to do?" he asks again. "I'm serious."

Now you do let a small laugh pass your lips. "You'd be surprised."

He just blinks. "Surprise me, then."

He did say he liked to learn. "Listen, I can't—" You cut off your own sentence when you see a light on the second story window flick on out of your peripheral vision. Shit. "I've got to go."

He casts his gaze upwards to the soft light emanating from the house. "I see," you hear him say as you plant your elbows on the edge of the dock, hauling your body back up to the wooden surface. Once you're out of the water, a sudden thought occurs to you—you never even asked the siren for his name.

Who cares? a voice in your head cries out. Your conscience, most likely—whatever scraps of common sense you have left. That thing was going to drown you. You don't need his name; you're never going to see him again.

Well—that you aren't entirely sure of, even if you may not be completely prepared to admit it. As much as you had apparently intrigued him, he had certainly kept your interest too. For crying out loud—he's a goddamn siren. How often did you get to have a sit-down conversation with a sea creature you had been perfectly convinced wasn't real an hour ago?

Even more intriguing, you think, was that air of freedom about him. I do whatever I want, he'd said. You can't imagine the last time anything like that left your mouth—or if anything like it ever had. You're drawn to that feeling of freedom—either out of jealousy or a desire to live vicariously through it, you aren't sure. But you do want to experience it again.

So you turn back around, the question of his name on the tip of your tongue—but it never gets any further. By the time you're looking back into the water below you, he's gone. Had you imagined the entire thing all along, you wonder for a brief instant?

But that thought shatters when you hear a splash to your right, at the very edge of the canal before it opens back up into the ocean, and you see the edge of a long, blue tail flicker in the moonlight before it disappears below the surface.

You let out a short laugh of disbelief at the sight. And the small smile that lingers on your lips—even as you hurry back towards the house, open the back door as quietly as possible, hurry back upstairs, throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, and jump back in your bed in a fresh pair of pajamas—doesn't fade away for quite some time.

Three days pass before you see him again.

You'd run out to the dock three nights in a row after everyone in the house had fallen asleep, peering into the water only to be met with the ripples of your own reflection staring back up at you. Disappointed, you had trudged back to the back porch and snuck back up to your room, lingering confusions about that damn siren swirling around in your head. You won't go check again tomorrow night. That entire meeting with him was apparently a one-time thing. It was a miracle that he'd let you live, anyway—a miracle that you aren't ever supposed to see again.

You still find yourself padding down to the dock on the fourth night—and this time, you aren't alone.

There's an apple sitting on the very last wooden plank on the end of the dock, water dripping off the edge and forming a small puddle around it. You almost let out a laugh at the sight, but it's swallowed by the yelp you accidentally let out when the siren's head emerges suddenly from beneath the surface. He stares at you, unblinking as he hauls his forearms onto the edge of the dock, propelling himself forward to look up at you.

"You're surprised," he says.

You take a breath to calm yourself before speaking. "You're observant."

He blinks once. Twice. "That's for you," he says, gesturing towards the singular fruit on the last plank of wood. "Since I ate the other one."

You look down at the apple, deciding you're safer not asking where he got this one—and then you look lower, peering down off the edge. The siren has pulled himself up to rest against the dock, which means he's only about halfway submerged into the water now. You see his arms, crossed on top of each other to support him resting on top of the dock. You see his chest, his abdomen, droplets of water still rolling down the toned muscles. And you swallow the gasp that threatens to escape you when you finally lock eyes on the dark blue tail that begins past his waist, swishing back and forth as it glistens with every beam of moonlight it reflects.

If he knows the cause of your sudden amazement, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he speaks again. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

You manage to pull your eyes back up towards his. "I, um...I realized I never got your name the other night. I figured you didn't just go by 'siren.'"

He smirks. "No, I don't. But I've never had to say it out loud before, like this." He thinks about it for a moment. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong. "Hongjoong," you repeat.

You aren't sure if it's the moonlight playing tricks on you, or if his cheeks really do twinge a shade pink at the repetition from your lips. "What's yours?"

Now it's your turn to smirk a little. "You won't, like...gain some kind of terrible power over me once you know my name, right?" You think you remember reading about the fae having that kind of ability in school, but that was ages ago. And at the time, you didn't think you'd ever need to remember information about creatures you were certain didn't exist.

The siren—Hongjoong—shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I can look into it in our historical records though, if you'd like."

You shake your head quickly. Probably better off not knowing.

But you do tell him your name, and he smiles too. "Pretty," he says, and you think you understand how someone like him could talk someone like you into walking off a boat—but the thought doesn't scare you the way it might have the other night. He's so beautiful, you're realizing—almost impossibly so. To hear him say he thinks you're pretty, or at least your name is, almost makes you want to laugh.

Hongjoong pulls you out of your thoughts when he taps the space on the dock next to the apple with one hand. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Oh. "Oh!" you say, bending over to pick up the fruit. "Sure. Thank you for bringing this to me—" and then, before you can stop yourself from the most sudden and peculiar act of boldness in your entire life so far— "do you...I don't know, want anything in return for it?"

He seems taken aback by your proposition at first, but only a moment passes before that soft, self-assured grin appears across his features again. "What would you want to give me?"

Christ. Why did you say that? "Well—um..." You glance down at your shoes with wet sand still caked to the sides, the green charm on the end of one shoelace, the fraying ends of the jacket you'd hastily pulled over your shoulders before walking outside tonight, before you see—

You quickly work it off of your wrist and hand it over to him. "Here," you say, sitting down at the dock's edge and handing Hongjoong the bracelet you've been wearing since you came to your uncle's house this summer. "You can keep it."

Hongjoong takes the bracelet delicately from your outstretched hand. He peers at it in the moonlight. "What is it?"

"It's a bracelet," you explain. "You can just wear it on your wrist for decoration—it doesn't have to mean anything. This one, um...it was actually from my parents, but believe me—it doesn't mean anything," you finish, trying (and failing) not to let that all-too-familiar drip of malicious venom back into your voice at the mention of the people who raised you. Who bought you this bracelet—a week-late birthday gift from your mother who had missed it while she was on a 'girls trip' in Italy. And yet, you still turned out like this—

Hongjoong continues studying the bracelet, poring over each individual charm. If he notices your attitude about your parents, he doesn't say anything—but after that first conversation you'd had with him, you think he may understand what you mean anyway.

The silence is starting to make you drowsy, so you move to stand back up. "Look, Hongjoong, I'd better head back. It's late. Will I, um—" Why does he make you so nervous now? "Will I see—"

"What are you bringing next time?" Hongjoong interrupts.

You blink. "What?"

He taps the bracelet with one finger. "I'll bring something else the next time I see you, if you bring something too."

He had said he liked to learn. "Okay," you say. There's a sudden warmth in your chest at the thought of seeing him again, even despite the cool breeze suddenly drifting off from the sea. "When will you be back?"

Hongjoong tilts his head to one side, thinking. "The next half moon. It should be in a few nights. I'll need time to find something good for you," he says, grinning.

You can't fight the grin that tugs at your own lips. "I'll be here, then."

You think about how the first two weeks of your summer had dragged by. Every day had felt like an unending loop of babysitting your cousins while your uncle went to work, of making an effort to laugh at said uncle's intentionally not-funny jokes, of picking up groceries and running errands and getting lost in the monotony of the mundane—but the second half of your summer is the complete opposite.

Going out and meeting Hongjoong by the end of the dock goes from a once a week occurrence to a nightly routine. And it doesn't stop at just bringing each other different little trinkets and knick-knacks and snacks that you find—you and Hongjoong both discover that you're better conversationalists than you'd previously thought. The two of you find yourself talking for hours about anything you can think of; you learn that Hongjoong's family is several times larger than yours, and that sirens swim further south when the water gets cold in the winter ("the same as everything else in the sea with any sense," he points out). And you tell Hongjoong about you, about all the summers you spent here with your older siblings when you were all still children, about the nights you snuck out with them and went to the gas station for ice cream—both of you hanging on each other's every word.

You find yourself looking forward to seeing him all day. You're in far better spirits than you were at the beginning of the summer, your uncle teases on several occasions, but you can't find it in yourself to be bothered.

You probably could try to make it slightly less obvious, though. After nearly a month of spending almost all your nights with Hongjoong, you find yourself one midsummer day back on the pontoon boat with your cousins and uncle, looking for an island to go for a picnic on—just like you had been that day you'd first seen him. You still keep to yourself on the bow of the boat the same way you did at the beginning of the summer, but your thoughts are full of nothing but the siren, now. You'd found an unfinished scrapbook of you and your siblings from years ago in your uncle's garage last night, and you're practically beaming at the thought of showing it to Hongjoong tonight. You wonder if he'll be able to pick out which one is you in the photos if you don't tell him. Maybe you'll—

"There's something in the water!" one of your cousins cries out, pointing towards the right side of the boat.

You practically shoot out of your seat. "Where?" you ask, rushing over to her side of the boat.

She blinks up at you, caught off-guard by your sudden enthusiasm. "Um...right next to the boat." She points again with a shrug. "There was a face, but it's gone now. I swear I'm telling the truth."

You nod, giving her a knowing grin. "I believe you."

Her eyes widen, a smile growing across her own features. "You do?"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel of the boat behind you. "You mean your reflection, bub?"

Your cousin shakes her head quickly. "No, it wasn't. It was something else, I know it."

Your uncle looks back and forth between the two of you, landing his gaze firmly on you. "Well—if you see anything else, you just let me know. It's almost the end of the summer, you know," he points out. "I've kept you all under my watch this long—I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

The little girl next to you nods before going back to her seat with the rest of your cousins, but you stay planted at the side of the boat for a while with them.

It's almost the end of the summer, you know.

What's been wrong with you for the last several weeks? Befriending a siren, of all things—where did you think that was going to go? Did you think you'd get to pack him up in your suitcase with everything else and take him home? Stupid, you think—you've been completely, utterly stupid. It's the only explanation for it.

No—that isn't entirely true, either. You may have been foolish, thinking you could keep a friendship with a siren, but that wasn't the only place those feelings were coming from. You've been distracting yourself, you realize now. You're trying to run, still—from the very same thing that led you to stay with your uncle this summer for the first time in years.

Maybe you've had your fill of running. It may be time to try facing the thing you've been avoiding all summer before it's too late—which is how you find yourself alone in the kitchen later that night, holding on to your uncle's home phone with one hand while you read her number to yourself off of your own phone (you're fairly certain she won't answer if she recognizes your number on her caller ID).

You almost hesitate before punching in the last number to dial and sealing your fate, but your uncle's words float back to you again. It's almost the end of the summer. What do you have to lose now, anyway?

You finish dialing the number.

She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" She sounds slightly out of breath, as if she'd ran to catch the phone before it stopped ringing. The thought gives you a momentary sense of hope—maybe she won't hang up on you immediately once she realizes who's calling.

You take a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom," you say, slowly. "It's me."

She's silent for a long, long time—but she doesn't hang up. "...Oh," is the first thing your mother says. "I thought this was your uncle calling." You hear her take a breath, hesitating on saying what you know she's about to say. "I guess that's why you called from his phone, huh?"

You know there's no point answering that. "Mom, I...I wanted to talk to you, since the summer's almost over. I thought we could possibly talk about, um...about me staying at home for a little bit before school starts—or maybe coming home during winter break."

There's another long period of silence—and like the fool you are, you allow yourself to hope, for a brief moment, that she won't say exactly what you've known she was going to say the minute you dialed her number. "Hmm...no, Y/N, I don't really think that's a good idea." Your heart sinks, but she continues to push the dagger (that you practically handed her by making this call) further into your chest. "You know what—it's not really a good time right now, anyway. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"

"Listen, Mom, I'm—"

Click.

She's hung up.

You told yourself earlier you wouldn't cry if she did this (you knew she was going to). And yet—you still can't fight those tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids, threatening to spill over. As you try to blink them away, your gaze is drawn towards the back window—towards the head of blue hair you can just barely see at the end of the dock, waiting expectantly for you already.

God. You cannot talk to Hongjoong right now—but you can't just blow him off entirely, either. You'll make something up, tell him you've gotten sick and can't see him for a few days, and hope he'll just forget about you and find some other human to trade apples for bracelets with.

You pad as quickly as you can down the end of the beach to the dock, peering over the edge to see Hongjoong's dark eyes looking up at you. "I can't talk tonight," you say sharply. "I'm sorry."

Hongjoong frowns. "What's wrong? Did you forget to bring something? It's okay, you know. I don't mind just talking to you. If you want."

Of course that's what he's concerned about. "No," you say, somewhat shakily. "I just can't, alright?"

You move to turn around, but the siren is a step ahead of you like always. He lunges forward onto the dock, grabbing ahold of your ankle with a strength you hadn't known he'd had. You think, for a moment, that if he had really wanted to drown you that day—he could have. "That's not good enough," he replies firmly, but his gaze softens the minute he sees your face closer. "I want to know what's wrong. Please."

It doesn't take much pleading from him for you to succumb to his wishes, so you relent, turning back around and sitting down on the edge of the dock. Hongjoong props himself up with his forearms before pushing the rest of his body up onto the dock, sitting upright and facing the sea beside you, just like you—something he's never done before. Only the last few scales on the edge of his tail just barely brush the water. "Tell me," he asks again, gentler this time.

So you do.

"It's my mother," you tell him, slowly. "Both my parents, really—they planned out me and my brothers' lives from the moment we were born. We were all supposed to be doctors, or lawyers, or scientists—something to make a ridiculous amount of money for them, just like they did for their parents. It was the only way to make them proud. They sent us to private schools and paid for expensive tutoring for years to ensure it, and they only spoke to us when we did well. They didn't want children—they wanted trophies. Things they could show off to their friends who were just as selfish and conceited as them. And they got them with my brothers—they did exactly what they were supposed to. Graduated law school or got their doctorates or PhDs, and now do nothing except work and get filthy rich. I'm the last one to fulfill what my parents had planned out for us. But I guess things don't always work out the way you planned," you add, somewhat bitterly.

Hongjoong keeps his gaze fixed on you. "No," he says, as gently as the water lapping at your ankles. "They don't. And...you don't want to do what they want you to."

You nod. "That's right. I don't. I think I should get a choice in what I make of my life, not slaving away forever at something someone else picked out for me. To do something of my own volition. And I told them so—and they told me I'd be on my own, forever, because of it."

"What do you want, then?" he asks.

You feel tears brushing against the edges of your eyelashes again. "It doesn't matter," you say, trying to keep your voice as steady as you can. "I'm screwed as it is. I have enough money saved for this semester of college, but they've cut me off entirely. I tried to call and make an attempt to patch things up tonight, but she wouldn't even listen to me. I'll be coming here every other semester to work, save up for the next semester, and stay with my uncle. I'm extremely grateful to at least have him on my side, to have someone who will allow me to stay with them—but I don't know if I'll ever get to see my parents or my brothers again. And I knew that would happen," you admit, voice definitely shaking now.

"I knew that was the choice I was making when I told them I didn't want to just be a stupid trophy for them to display, that I wanted to make something worthwhile, that I deemed worthwhile with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy and that I was taking the harder route, but I thought I'd be able to just cut ties with them. Go no contact, and all that, but it...it's hard, Hongjoong," you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks. "So fucking hard. And it's so stupid. Even after all this, after she's told me she doesn't want anything to do with me, now that I've chosen to 'waste my life away' and she 'doesn't know who I am anymore—' I still care what she thinks of me, for some stupid reason. She's still my mother—God, what am I supposed to do?"

Hongjoong turns to you almost instantly, cupping your face in both hands, and the sudden touch alone almost makes your tears stop falling. "Nothing stops the flow of the sea," he says, quietly. You want to move your gaze, to move your head away so your eyes aren't locked onto Hongjoong's so intensely, but he keeps you there anyway. "You just have to keep moving through it. With it. I think it's the same with your mother. It won't immediately be better tomorrow, just like how the sea isn't immediately perfectly calm after a typhoon—but it will be better, eventually. A little bit every day, as the waves return back to their normal rolling patterns."

"You don't think it's stupid?" you ask, quietly. "That I'm still so desperate to hold on to my mother, even if she's practically already thrown me away?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "Nonsensical, maybe. But not stupid. I don't think there's anything stupid about reaching out for someone who's taken care of you. My family has always been spread across the oceans—no matter where I go, it seems, I can find someone. I think it would be a much harder life if I was told none of them wanted to see me ever again. I'd feel stranded. And I haven't lived the same life as you, so I don't know what the exact circumstances are like, but I don't think it's a stupid aspiration. Just slightly nonsensical—but I think I'm realizing that a lot of things you do—that humans do," he corrects, "are that way."

That makes you laugh, even as his words settle into your ears and you begin to feel a kind of lightness in your chest. His world is so different from yours, you think. You're almost jealous of it, in a way.

And still, when he says things will be easier, eventually—you believe him.

"What is it that you want with your life?" he asks.

You laugh a little again. "It's cliché."

Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. "How would I know what your clichés are?" His hands are still firmly cupped against your cheeks.

Now the smile that ghosts across your face is real. Genuine. "Art," you say, quietly—as if you're afraid of admitting the truth even to him. "I love drawing—always have. It's all I've ever wanted to do. It used to be my escape when I came here in the summers with my family; I'd sneak away from everyone and paint on the beach for hours until my uncle would call for dinner. I begged for paint sets as a kid for birthday presents—even stole a set of charcoal pencils from the art room in middle school once. The teacher let me keep them even after finding out," you add, laughing a little. You bare your soul to Hongjoong, the parts of you that you've tried to squash for years but have failed to completely erase—like charcoal marks on a piece of paper that just won't quite go away.

He seems to ponder this for a moment. "Could you draw me?"

You laugh, feeling like a dam of relief is beginning to break within within you. He knows what has practically been your deepest, darkest secret for your entire life, and he doesn't want to shun you forever for it. "You know, I've always heard that's the one thing you aren't supposed to ask an artist."

Hongjoong blinks. "I didn't know that." There's only a single beat of silence before he asks, "Can you draw me anyway?"

"It won't be very good," you say with a shrug, smirk still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I've never been very good at portraits. Landscapes and still life are easier for me."

He moves one hand to wrap around your wrist. "Try anyway."

The tenderness of the action coupled with his words—blunt as always, but reassuring in a way you've never known from him, never known from anyone—is enough to cause tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes again.

This time, Hongjoong notices, moving his free hand up your cheek to gently brush them away before they ever have a chance to cascade past your lashes. You see him sniff once, then look back up at you—realization dawning on his face.

"Salt," Hongjoong whispers in awe. "There's a piece of the sea in you, too."

That dam inside you breaks.

You meet his eyes, dark as the bottom of the ocean—feel the cool grip of his hand wrapped around your wrist and his fingers resting gently on your cheek, and you feel the pull towards him like the magnetism of the Earth's core.

When your lips land on his, it doesn't surprise either of you. It's a chaste, careful kiss at first. Hongjoong takes only a moment to breathe, forehead touching yours so lightly you almost wouldn't know he was there, before pulling you back to him and pressing his lips against yours again.

You've never experienced anything like it before—the tenderness of his hands on your skin, the softness of his lips on yours, his warm breath skating across your jaw. It's like he's everywhere, taking over every sensation—but not at all like that first time he had met you and influenced your thoughts. You feel fully in control right now. You're the one who's let him in.

If this is what drowning feels like, you think, you'd never complain.

You taste salt on your lips when you wake in the morning, and the sensation immediately sends a flurry of butterflies through your chest. A smile tugs at your mouth before you can even think to hide it from yourself.

Had last night even been real? Hongjoong reassuring you, kissing you so gently that you thought you might melt right into the water below the two of you—God, how could it not have been real? You could never have dreamed something like it.

If your uncle and cousins notice your uncharacteristically chipper mood at breakfast, a stark contrast to your melancholy behavior at dinner the night before, they don't say anything—but your uncle does look surprised when you offer to help load the cooler and towels onto the boat for the day.

"I've enjoyed having you here for the summer," your uncle tells you later that afternoon, when you've dropped anchor on a nearby island and your cousins are eating their lunches peacefully—the only time of the day you find that they're quiet. "Reminded me of the old days, with your brothers. It's been good to have you here."

You smile at him. "I've enjoyed being here," you admit, even if he doesn't know all the reasons why. "Thank you for letting me stay the summer. I really, um...really appreciate knowing there's someone who has my back."

His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. "Listen, Y/N. I know it's hasn't been easy after what happened with your mother—I don't know the whole story, but I'm not old and senile enough yet to not know something's up. But you'll always have a place to stay here. I want you to know that."

Your heart jumps. "Thank you, Uncle," you say. "You've always gone out of your way to make this feel like home for me, and you did the same when my brothers were here too. I can never thank you enough for that. And I—"

He just waves your words away. "That's what family does, you know? I've always felt like a bit of a black sheep living out here—compared to my sister, anyway. She always had big plans for all of you. But I've wanted this to feel like a good place for you, and your brothers, and now your cousins too—no matter what. Even when you all would sneak out for late-night gas station runs back in the day...or whatever it is you're doing now," your uncle adds, pointedly.

Your stomach twists. "I've...been taking moonlit strolls. It's helped me relax, with everything going on."

He doesn't seem convinced, however. "Honey...you know, you can always—"

But he's interrupted by one of your cousins shouting. "Jay won't give me the binoculars back!"

Your uncle frowns. "Jay, let your sister have a turn. Only fair, you know."

Jay crosses his arms, tucking the binoculars under one elbow. "No way! Every time Bianca uses these, she keeps telling me she sees somebody staring at her in the water."

Bianca scowls, lunging for him. "And I did! Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean I didn't."

Him.

After what your uncle had just said about your moonlit strolls, you restrain yourself from running over to the edge of the boat immediately like the other day—but your eyes still scan over the water ahead of you hurriedly.

You can see your uncle's gaze flicker back to you out of the corner of your eye, hesitating for a moment too long, before turning his attention back to the twins. "You guys have seen more stuff on the horizon in the past month than I saw in twenty years on the sea," he quips, forcing a tight laugh. "Might need to get you kids back to living in the city soon if you're seeing this many things in the water—not everyone's made for the sea life," he adds.

The knot of worry tightens itself a little tighter in your gut, and not for the last time this summer.

You still smuggle your sketchbook down to the pier once night falls, slipping out the back door with it tucked securely under your arm.

Hongjoong, of course, is waiting expectantly for you, peering up at you from the edge of the dock. "Is that for drawing?" he asks, and you can hear the twinge of excitement in his voice.

Your heart does a little backflip in your chest. "Yes," you admit, a little more sheepishly than you'd meant to. "Do you know how you want to pose for it?"

He thinks for a moment. "Can I sit up here with you? I want to be close to you for it."

Oh—now there are serious acrobatics going on within your chest. "Sure," you say, grinning as you sit on the far edge and watch him scoot up to sit beside you, leaning on the support beam at the very edge of the dock.

You gaze at him for a moment after flipping open your sketchbook and finding an empty page. His tail practically shines in the darkness around the two of you, moonlight reflecting off of each dark blue scale. His torso looks practically sculpted by the gods—arms and chest full of just as much unearthly beauty as his face, jawline sharper than the tip of the pencil you're sketching him with.

Not for the first time, you think to yourself how beautiful he is.

Hongjoong's cheeks turn the fairest shade of pink as you continue to stare at him, but he doesn't say a word as you begin your initial sketch. You find it slightly difficult to get the right shape of the tail flicking against the edge of the water beneath you. "Can I ask you a question?" you say instead, putting down your pencil for a moment.

Hongjoong blinks. "You've asked me questions for weeks, now."

You laugh. "This is a different one. I...I think one of my cousins saw something in the water today. When we were on my uncle's pontoon boat. Any chance you might know something about that?"

His cheeks turn pinker than before, but he doesn't flinch. "I suppose I might."

You can't bite back a grin. "Are you...following me, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong frowns a little. "I wouldn't call it that. I've...just been in the area. Keeping an eye on things. Not just you."

"Just at the same time as me."

"Right," he says, clearly relieved. "Exactly."

Your grin widens.

Hongjoong points at your sketchpad. "Are you finished with the drawing?"

You laugh a little, picking your pencil back up from beside you on the dock. "No, not even close. I've never drawn anything like you before—but I love a good challenge."

He seems somewhat pleased with this admission. "Will you show it to me once it's done?"

“Of course," you tell him, and he beams. That smile—God. You only hope you can put even a fraction of the way it makes you feel back onto the paper in your palms.

Your uncle corners you in the kitchen after breakfast the next morning. You feel yourself panicking inwardly at first, thinking he's going to continue pressing you on your "moonlit strolls" conversation from yesterday—but he just informs you that he's planning on a big seafood broil for dinner tomorrow night, as a send-off for the summer. And more importantly, he wants you to pick up a few pounds of shrimp from the seafood store in town today.

It's been a while since you ventured that far back into town—God, probably since the very first week of summer. And now your uncle is preparing a feast for the end of the season. You've never known time could pass you by this quickly.

That thought lingers as you ride your uncle's bike down the boardwalk and across the bridge, gradually making your way onto the mainland. You've put off thinking about what will happen once the summer comes to a close since that night you called your mother—but it's an inevitable fact that you'll have to leave, obviously sooner than you think. How can you even begin to bring that up to Hongjoong? Does he know, already, somehow? Will he be disappointed that he can't obtain any more knowledge from you and dip back into the sea, never to be seen again?

Your racing mind quiets somewhat when you realize you've made it to the seafood store—or shack, as it's always been affectionately known. You gaze for a moment at the neon sign outside, realizing that "THE CRAB SHACK" only has a few lights that actually work. "T E CR B S H C K" is what the sign displays now.

You remember that the lights didn't work when you were here years ago, either. The whole bottom row of neon was always out, meaning that the sign only read "T E CRB." You wonder if there's a meaning in that—that the sign was broken then and broken now, just showing it in different ways.

Or maybe it's just a neon sign for a seafood shack, and your suddenly gloomy mind is searching for meaning where there is none.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, park your bike, and make your way inside. The smell of seafood is nearly overpowering the minute you step through the door and doesn't fade for an instant, even after you've collected your pounds of shrimp in bags and make your way to the register in the very back. You wonder if the employee behind the counter even smells the seafood anymore, or if he's completely accustomed to it now.

He clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, God—how long have you been standing here? "Are you ready to check out?"

"Yes! Yes," you say hurriedly, laughing at yourself. "Sorry. In my own head this morning."

The cashier laughs good-naturedly in reply. "It happens." He looks down at the bags of shrimp after weighing and typing them in. "You visiting a friend here or something? That's quite a few pounds of shrimp—and I don't think I've seen you in here before."

You nod. "I'm staying with some family on the other side of the bridge. We're doing an end-of-summer broil tomorrow night."

He grins at you. "Can I come by if I only charge you for one of these?"

"If there's any leftovers," you reply coolly. "My cousins are pretty ravenous."

The cashier just laughs again, handing you the bags. "Fair enough. You have a good day, now."

"Same to you," you tell him absentmindedly—because you've noticed something in the open door behind the cashier. It's probably not meant to always be open, as it leads to a boardwalk out to the sea. Another Crab Shack employee is lining up a few crates of stock not yet loaded into the store. A couple canisters of fruit, three or four crates of sodas—and at the very end of the boardwalk, you think you might just see a head of blue hair peeking out of the water.

Shit.

You wonder as you quickly make your way out of the store, as you duck under the Sea You Later! sign at the exit, as you pedal the whole ride back over the bridge and back onto your uncle's property—a trick of the light, maybe? (When has that ever been the case this summer?) Will Hongjoong even say anything about it tonight, if it was him?

He does, of course. When evening falls and you make your way down to the dock, you haven't even taken your pencils out of your drawing bag before Hongjoong is pulling himself up beside you, gazing at you intently.

"What was so funny?" he asks, in a tone so innocent you almost think he's being genuine. "I want to know."

You make an exasperated face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hongjoong."

"The man in the store today," he answers plainly. "In the apron. You laughed at something he said."

"Nothing," you say. "I was being polite—I promise. He was the one trying to make jokes about inviting himself over. Not nearly as funny as he thought he was."

He isn't quite satisfied with that. "Did you know him before?"

"No," you tell him. "I was just in there getting shrimp for my uncle to cook tomorrow."

Hongjoong frowns. "I could've gotten you shrimp. There's plenty around that cove near the bridge."

You laugh. "I appreciate the offer—but where would I have told my uncle several pounds of live shrimp came from?"

He frowns, thinking for a moment. "The apron man wasn't too bright, I think," Hongjoong says. "I saw him come out onto the boardwalk not too long after you left—almost fell over trying to help the other apron man pick up those boxes."

His words hang in the air for a beat. Then two. "What would you have done if he had?" you ask, partially teasing and partially serious. "Drown him?"

Hongjoong ponders that. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"For what? Talking to me?" you ask, somewhat incredulously. "What were you doing watching me in the middle of the day, anyway? Just 'in the area' again?"

He crosses his arms indignantly. "I didn't plan to. I heard your laugh when I came up for air, so I wanted to know what was funny." He seems to pause on that for a moment. "You're almost a siren yourself, in that way."

Now that makes your heart stop—maybe more than he had intended it to. You have to hide the smile that threatens to creep up the edges of your mouth. "So you really aren't going to drown that poor cashier? Or me, for talking to him?" you ask, still only partially teasingly.

Hongjoong's face softens slightly at that. "I don't think I ever really intended to. Not from the moment I saw you."

You wonder, for a split second, if he can hear your heart thundering in your chest—if he has any idea what kind of effect he has on you, siren abilities or not.

He seems to have an idea of your thoughts, either way—because he reaches for your hand, intertwining it with his. "I want to show you something."

You stare at him for an instant too long. "Where?" you ask, nervous laughter accidentally escaping you. "In the water?"

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Of course."

You give him a look. "Hongjoong—I don't know how far this is, but you know I'm not nearly as good at holding my breath as you are."

Hongjoong laughs a little at that—that bright, airy, musical laugh that almost instantly sets you at ease, reminding whatever sane parts of you are left that he's still a siren. "Don't worry," he says plainly. "I'll make sure you can breathe."

Just as always, there's no malice in his tone, no hint of a hidden plot behind his eyes, although you wonder if you would even know if there was, skillful siren that he is. Regardless, you squeeze his hand in yours and let him lead you off the dock and beneath the waves, taking one last gasping breath before your head slips underneath.

Hongjoong keeps your hand in his, tail swishing as he leads the two of you further beneath the surface—the scales across it continue to reflect moonlight as brightly as if you were still above the water, giving you just as much visibility in the dark water as if you had a flashlight with you.

What's a flashlight?

You nearly let out a yelp before you remember the two of you are underwater. That was Hongjoong's voice, no doubt about it—and it was in your head.

You can talk to me this way too, you know.

It's like he's invaded your head—his thoughts are suddenly yours. Can you always hear my thoughts? you wonder. If that's been the case all along—

But you can just barely see Hongjoong shake his head in front of you through the darkness. No, you hear him say. Only when we're here, like this. Do you need air?

God, you definitely, definitely do—the shock of Hongjoong's voice in your mind had completely distracted you for a brief moment from the lack of air in your lungs. It's nothing at all, though, compared to the shock you feel when Hongjoong cups your cheeks between his hands and presses his mouth to yours.

He's kissing you.

No—he's not, you realize suddenly. He's breathing into you, pushing air down your lungs and filling them up until you feel like you can breathe again, despite being completely submerged beneath the water.

Hongjoong pulls away after a moment. Good? he asks.

You nod—you're slightly embarrassed now, especially now that you know he could hear your confusion in your head.

And especially considering the smirk you can see on his lips right before he turns back around to push the two of you further through the water. He's well aware of the confusion he's caused.

Hongjoong only has to give you air two more times before you finally arrive at what he had wanted to show you—and it nearly takes your breath away once more.

It's a shipwreck. A massive one, sitting completely undisturbed at the bottom of the bay. The ship has three broken masts, some of the sails slightly submerged in the sand with several of the cannon openings peeking out at you, which you know can mean only one thing.

This ship is hundreds of years old. One that had clearly gone down in a fight.

Hongjoong beams at you taking in the scene. My cousins did this, you hear him say, and you nearly laugh at the clear pride in that declaration.

You think about your own cousins, playing pirates on the beach while they throw buckets of water at each other, stomping over sandcastles and leaving childlike destruction in their wake. Yeah? you finally ask. Sounds like something my cousins would do.

Hongjoong stares at you thoughtfully for a long time after that—you wonder, for a brief moment, if you shouldn't have compared your family to his in this way. You're just about to formulate a thought to apologize when you feel his lips on yours again, one hand on the back of your head while the other cups your cheek gently.

You stare at him, confused once more when he pulls back. I didn't need air, you tell him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He stares right back. I know.

Hongjoong waits to see the realization on your face before he touches you again, clasping your chin between two fingers gingerly. He's giving you a chance to push him away, if that's what you want.

It isn't.

You hold his face in your hands when you press your lips to his this time, and you can practically feel the relief emanating from him in your own mind. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as he can. Everything else—all your fearful thoughts about the end of the summer from today, your suspicions about your uncle, your constant stress about your mother—all fades away past the point of existence, and in that moment, there is nothing but you and Hongjoong at the bottom of the ocean.

"Sure you don't want to go out on the boat today?" your uncle asks the next morning. "It's your last chance for this summer."

But you shake your head again. "I got pretty sunburned across my back yesterday," you fib. "I'll watch the house here until you all get back. Do you need me to run any errands for you while you're gone?"

He doesn't quite stop himself from narrowing his eyes at you. You've been out in the sun enough times this summer that the half hour you spent in the backyard watching your cousins' impromptu performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday shouldn't have burned you at all. And you know he's fully aware of this. "...Don't know how many times I've told you kids to wear sunscreen," he says after a moment. "And reapply."

"I know," you wince. "I'm sorry. I'll put some lotion on it after breakfast."

"There's some in the closet upstairs with aloe," he informs you. "That usually speeds up the healing process for me."

"Good to know," you tell him. In truth, the only thing you plan to do while everyone is out of the house is work on your drawing of Hongjoong. You've solidified the outline, gone over it with an ink pen, but you're still trying to decide how to place the shading. You want to show the finished product to Hongjoong tonight—your last night of summer. You've put off that dreaded conversation with him until the very last minute—but you know you two will have to talk about what happens two nights from now when you're across the country, moving into your dorm room for your first night at college.

At least—you think you will be. There's a mad fantasy, of course, of staying here, of sneaking out to see Hongjoong every night for as long as you can, of running away with him somehow to some island where no one will ever bother the two of you—but it's just that, a fantasy, and you know it. Even if the entire summer has felt like a fantasy in its own way.

You don't know how that conversation will go tonight. But you want to at least be able to give this piece to him, regardless of what happens.

You're hunched over your sketchpad for hours, messing with the combination of paints for your watercolors until they're just right (or at least as satisfactory as you can get them). The scales on his tail are the hardest—you want so badly to show how ethereal they look with the moonlight reflecting off them, making him look like he's glowing from the waist down. You lay down a base color first and paint over it with different shades of blue and green, creating several different layers until you're pleased with the color's result.

Your work on the contours of his face and torso comes much easier, and the full painting is almost completely dry by the time you're heading back outside, moon high in the sky to greet you as you step onto the dock.

Hongjoong is waiting for you too, forearms resting at the edge of the pier. You roll the painting into a cylinder shape as you walk down to meet him, but you know he knows exactly what it is.

He grins. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admits, immediately, and you feel an entire enclosure of butterflies fluttering through your chest at the statement.

But you steel yourself. Take a breath. "Before I show it to you," you say, "I want to talk."

Hongjoong nods. "The end of the summer. Right?"

You raise one eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"

"I heard you talking about it. With your uncle, that first time that your cousin spotted me from the boat." He grins a little at the recollection. "I heard him say there wasn't long until the end of summer, when you'd be leaving, so—I imagined this conversation would happen soon."

You exhale, slightly relieved. At least you wouldn't have to break the news of your sudden departure to him. "And how did you imagine this conversation?"

He takes a breath now. "I know I can't ask you to stay here. That's not fair to what you want—to the choices you've made with your own family for being able to make your own life. But I was thinking—"

"Y/N!" You hear a voice cry out from behind you.

You'd recognize the sound of your uncle anywhere—and you feel your blood practically freeze over in your veins. "Get back here. Now!"

You turn around quickly, trying to block the view of Hongjoong from your uncle—but it's too late. And as you turn to face him, you see that he's come prepared for this exact situation—a shotgun raised to his shoulder now, eyes peering down the barrel pointed at you, and a long fishing spear beside him on the dock.

"Uncle," you say, as calmly as you can. "Put that down. Please."

"Get back here, Y/N," he says, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Get away from that thing right this minute and get out of my way."

You take a shaky breath. "Uncle, please let me explain. He's—"

"I know exactly what that is!" your uncle spits, pulling back the safety on the shotgun with a loud click. "A goddamn monster. You have no idea what those things do," he says, voice cracking. "I've seen men—good men, my friends taken from me, by its kind. Yanked right off our ship's railing and into their waiting mouths. It's nothing but a bloodthirsty animal that—"

"Stop!" you interrupt him with a shout, surprising yourself with the tenacity in your voice. You feel Hongjoong's hand wrap around your ankle, probably trying to tell you to stop—but you can't. You won't. "He's not a single thing like that. His name is Hongjoong. He's never even drowned anyone, let anyone killed and eaten anyone, Uncle. You have—"

"It's got you under it's spell," your uncle says, horrified. "Oh, my poor Y/N. I'll kill this nasty beast and free you from this trap."

You practically scream the next time you open your mouth. "No! You can't!" There's tears streaming down your face now, and the intensity of your emotions must be a surprise to your uncle, if the look of shock on his face is anything to go by. "Uncle—I'm begging you," you plead, sobbing. "I'll do anything. Please, please don't hurt him. He's my friend."

Something strange flickers over your uncle's features. He drops the barrel ever so slightly from being pointed at you. "Your friend, huh?"

You nod as you choke back another sob. "I love him." It's the first time you've admitted it—to yourself, let alone out loud—but you know it's the truth. Has been for longer than you've been aware, most likely.

That admission causes your uncle to drop the barrel entirely, holding the shotgun down in one hand and letting his other arm rest at his side. "My Y/N," he says, after a moment with a sigh.

"I've always wanted the best for you. I lived with your mother for eighteen years growing up, up until she met your father and had you and your brothers. I know how...how demanding she can be," he says with a laugh, one you don't reciprocate. "I know her tendencies all too well. She's my sister, and she'll always be my sister—but that doesn't mean I think she's a good person. I've tried to show you that there's a different path in life. That you don't have to do things her way. This...isn't what I thought you'd do," he says, laughing emptily again. "But I would never want to do anything that would hurt you on any level close to what I know she's caused you."

Your uncle swallows. Takes a breath. "I swore an oath," he says, steadier now. "In the navy. When I see anything like this, when any of us do—I'm honor-bound to report it. The local unit will be over here in under half an hour. Maybe even sooner."

You feel yourself holding your breath.

"So," he says, sighing as he meets your gaze down the dock. "You two...had just better not be here by the time they show up."

Before you can say anything in response—or perhaps before he can change his mind, your uncle turns on his heel and walks back towards the house.

You turn back around to face Hongjoong, sinking to your knees—and the minute you do, you feel tears streaming back down your face again.

He immediately pushes himself up onto the dock, grabbing hold of your face and brushing away the tears the instant they fall. "Y/N," he whispers. "You didn't have to do that. I...I love you. I would've gladly taken a bullet from your uncle if it meant you'd be safe."

Your eyes well with tears again, a shaky laugh leaving you. "Shit," you whisper back. "I don't—I don't know what to do, I just...just wanted to show you this stupid drawing," you say, laughing shakily. "And now I've ruined both of our lives. I'll never see you again."

"No. You haven't," Hongjoong says firmly, squeezing your cheeks in his hands.

You grab hold of his wrists. "Hongjoong—you have to get out of here. You...you said you have family everywhere, right? Go anywhere else. Please."

"No," Hongjoong says suddenly, straightening up the instant your hands wrap around his wrists. "Where did you say that school you were going to for your art was?"

You tell him. "It's on the coast, but it's not nearly as close to the sea as we are here, I—"

He interrupts you again. "I'll find you."

You let out an unbelieving laugh. "Hongjoong, there's no way—"

"I'll find you," he repeats, hands still cupping your face firmly. "On the name of the full moon that night you found me—on that stupid apple that led me to you. I'll find you. And then, you can let me see that drawing."

He leans forward, his lips pressing against yours in a messy kiss—all teeth and salty tears and hands squeezing too tight, or maybe not tight enough—before he lets go of you, pushing himself off the dock and into the water. You see one flick of his tail before he descends deep beneath the surface, and it's not long at all as you sit there, chest heaving and cheeks stained, before the waves are gone and the sea stills, and it's like Hongjoong was never there at all.

Fall semester has left you busier than you could have ever dreamed. You've never done this many sketches in a week, never tried this many different techniques at once, never spent this many all-nighters on a single project—but you'd be lying if you said you weren't still enjoying every second of it.

Your job keeps you plenty busy, too—your roommate had been kind enough to put in a good word at the campus library and gotten you a job in the coffee shop on the first floor. You're taking as many shifts as you can, but the pay isn't bad, all things considered. You may not have to take a semester off after all.

But the diving club keeps you almost busier than both your work and assignments combined. You've already logged more hours than any of the other freshman, and some of the upperclassmen, too. If the club captain has noticed how you're always late packing up after a dive, she hasn't reprimanded you. Maybe she's noticed the unique shells you seem to always come back with, or the skip in your step as you pack up your scuba gear, rolling a shiny bracelet over your wrist—or maybe she's noticed something else, entirely.

After all—last summer, you had been so sure that there was nothing like Hongjoong living below the water's surface. Of course, that didn't mean other people didn't already believe otherwise.

a/n: happy holidays !! i hope everyone is staying warm and healthy and having a lovely week so far <3

and finally…this title escapes my wip list 😭 y’all. i have been working on this on and off since late 2021—sometimes you can have an idea, have absolutely no inspo to write past halfway through, and then write 5k in one night. 💀 no such thing as a perfect project ofc but i do hope you enjoyed this oneshot! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 🫶🫶 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore @fireheaurt

#hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong fic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #hongjoong oneshot #ateez fic #beck writes ✍️

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treausre-fiction · 2 days

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Fan Favorite; KHJ

Y/N was a simple girl so to say . She had dreams just like any other girl in her 20s who enjoyed fangirling over different things whether that was the latest makeup release or her favorite KPOP group having a comeback , she lived a more simple life but still dreamed about her name being big in the stars . With a turn of events with a fan and celebrity line being crossed , Y/N finds herself in a 18 year long situation.

(YBSFN) - Your Best Friends Name

* Readers note ; Chapter 5 and onwards will now be containing more sm*t and darker content *

Chapter 5 ; Sweetheart

Still in disbelief that he was talking to you your mind felt like it was running trying to find a response .

“ (YBSFN) is just more of the social one , I just kinda lay back you know “ you murmured while looking at the floor .

You see Hongjoong shift his weight and squat down in front of you while meeting your eyes . Usually you felt embarrassed when talking to guys and always looking down at the floor .

“ I like eye contact when talking” he asserted while still keeping that same smile on his face . You always knew why he was the leader and how assertive he could be but even outside of being a leader his personality alone was so dominant.

The blonde hair , the smile , the jawline , his eyes … your mind wondered scanning his entire body seeing him this close to you .

“Y/N HELLO?!?! I’ve been calling you for the last 10 minutes” (YBSFN) nearly yelled . You snapped yourself out the trance you were in and walked over to her . (YBSFN) wasn’t stupid , she saw how Hongjoong was talking to you , the way you looked at him and truthfully she wasn’t gonna be a cockblock simple as that .

“Wooyoung told me their hotel isn’t too far from ours and we were gonna hang for a bit , you wanna come ? No pressure” (YBSFN) explained softly . That’s something you did appreciate about (YBSFN) is that she never pressured you .

Before she could say anything else you agreed to go .

That’s how you found yourself in the position you were in now . Between Kim Hongjoong and a wall and him in the crook of your neck in his hotel room . You hadn’t even had your first kiss yet before this and always pictured a fairytale first kiss but something about Hongjoong made you forget about all of that.

His scent almost felt addicting and touch lingered on your skin , maybe it was you being a virgin or him just knowing how to touch someone properly that had you hooked but you could care less right now .

“H-Hongjoong wait w-wait” you muttered while trying to suppress any other possible sounds from coming out of you. To be completely honest you were embarrassed to let out any moan so keeping your lip between your teeth was a lot easier. He looked up eyes slightly hazy which only made you feel more weak .

“Hmmm” he hummed

You debated saying the next words that came out your mouth but you also felt it was right to do .

“I haven’t.. never .. you know-“

“You’re a virgin?” He asked eyebrow half raised . Your silence enough was your answer.

“It’s okay , thank you for trusting me . If you get uncomfortable and want to change your mind it’s okay” he reassured stopping his movements . He felt genuine not like the frat guys they show in movies who make you feel bad for not sleeping with them.

In the back of your head you felt like you shouldn’t have been doing this but at the same time it only felt right .

He didn’t pressure you into doing anything for him for the first time , he wanted to only give to you . His words rang in your head the whole night

“No man will ever make you feel as good as I did tonight sweetheart”

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i-luvsang · 10 months

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want to kiss you — kim hongjoong

1.2K MILESTONE EVENT ☆ CLOSED gn!reader , fluff, lowkey angst (someone’s pining), best friends to lovers!au , cw : like i said, major pining, truly idiots to lovers, unedited , wc : 0.6K , hEH here you are orion !!! eughhh i’m not the most confident at writing joong so i hope you enjoy !!! love you lots <333 @nebulousbrainsoup

when you told hongjoong you had a question for him, this is not what he expected.

“how do i know if i have a crush on someone?” your tone is genuine and curious, innocent even, and it makes hongjoong’s heart begin to beat fast, like it does when you absentmindedly slip your hand into his.

“uh…,” he struggles to respond, taken aback.

“is that too weird to ask? i just kinda realized i wasn’t really sure… and well… you’ve dated people before, so i thought,” you trail off, suddenly growing a bit shy.

“no! no, it’s not weird,” he jumps to assure you, thinking about the way that, just a little bit, he lives for the way your expression becomes relieved, a small smile finding its way to your lips. his heart lurches again at the utter trust in your eyes, the trust he knows is reserved just for him. somehow, that trust is his saving grace, what makes him yours, while also feeling like everything that damns him to the hell of “friend-zoned.” he wonders who’s on your mind. san, maybe? the two of you have grown close since he introduced you, he recalls.

the soft whisper of a breath leaving your lips, a sound imperceptible to anyone but him, pulls him back to you, to the way he hasn’t actually answered your question.

“well,” he begins, carefully choosing the words for you, “you can’t stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they’re around, and then you want to– why are you looking at me like that?”

you tilt your head to the side. “like what?”

like i’m the one you can’t stop thinking about, he thinks. “nevermind.”

“well?” you urge him on. “‘then you want to’ what?”

hongjoong clears his throat, trying not to think about what he really wants. about kissing you. “then you want to… well, hold their hand... kiss them.” he stares straight into your eyes as he says this, not even trying to hide it. looking at you like you were looking at him. like he can’t stop thinking about you, like he feels strange when you’re around, like he wants to kiss you.

you’re silent for a moment, taking in his gaze and all of the weight behind it. “why are you looking at me like that?” you echo his words from moments ago.

“because i want to.”

“want to what?”

he almost says it. i want to kiss you, like a mantra, said over and over again in his head. but he can’t do that because what if you didn’t mean that look. what if it isn’t meant for him. what if your gaze of pure want is for someone else.

“yknow, joong, that sounded like you were flirting with me.” and at that he almost bursts, because yes! that’s exactly it. he was flirting with you, but he can’t admit to that.

and yet, your look continues to say otherwise, and he knows you so well. he knows that your face tells him the truth every single time. he knows that, if that look weren’t for him, it wouldn’t be on your face, not as you gaze into his eyes, not when you added a hint of “tell me you love me” to your voice when you said those words.

he calls your name, soft and firm, as if something is pulling at his voice, something like desperation. “…i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

“flirt with me?”

“yes,” the passion, the pleading in his voice surprises you, but only for a moment, because he is passion and you know that all too well.

“that’s good. because i think i have a crush on you,” you’re breathless as you confess. he almost laughs at that; you’re so goddamn adorable.

“well, that’s good,” he echoes, “because i definitely have a crush on you. and i’d really, really like to kiss you right now.”

591 notes · View notes

yeoblurbs · 6 months

Text

Weakness

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

angst to fluff drabble-ish

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reader cusses a lot, hint of a FWB relationship with Hongjoong, that’s all I think. sorry for any typos!

You tilt your head up as you take another shot of the alcohol in front of you. your eyes are bloodshot red and you frown when your tousled hair gets in your face, blowing it away with a pout.

your phone vibrates beside you but you can’t bring yourself to check, knowing who it is. well, it doesn’t truly matter if he’s calling anyway, you’ve heard enough.

the bartender, San, his name tag reads, looks at you with slight concern and perhaps if you weren’t so utterly in love with the hard-headed man blowing up your phone, you’d use Sans concern to distract you.

a push on your shoulder has you turning to the side, ready to tell them off, and fuck. it’s Hongjoong's one and only best friend, Park Seonghwa. if you ran out now then maybe he wouldn’t be able to catch you.

Seonghwa seems to read your mind as he gently grabs your wrist once you turn, “Can we talk, please?” and fuck x2 because Seonghwa didn’t deserve any animosity from you, even if he was best friends with the man you’re upset with.

you sigh in defeat, before giving him an awkward smile, “What did you want to talk about, Seonghwa?” you think you deserve an applaud for the steadiness of your voice.

he frowns as he analyzes your face, and you hate that you’ve brought one of the kindest people you’ve met to look so unhappy. he exhales quietly before taking a seat next to you.

“Please, just talk to him.” Seonghwas voice leaks desperation, but unfortunately for him, you’re too tired to care.

“I’ve spoken to him enough. Clearly, I’m nothing more to him than a distraction he needs when he’s stressed.” you turn to seonghwa with a bitter smile, “His words, not mine.”

Seonghwa’s brows furrow further, “I know, I know. I understand that you’re upset, and you have every right to be!” his face smooths out as he glances at you with tired eyes.

“But… He regrets it a lot, y’know?”

you deflate at his words, before downing another shot, loudly placing it on the table in front of you. “Well, that’s just too bad, Seonghwa. I can’t handle his mood swings forever.”

you rise from your seat, smoothing out your dress as you place your purse on your shoulder, “It was nice talking to you, but I’ll be taking my leave now. Please tell your friend to leave me alone.” Seonghwa nods with a defeated sigh, and with that, you turn, eyeing the exit that is ten feet away.

because this was the end of it. whether Hongjoong liked it or not, his words sparked something within you. you wanted love; pure, irrevocable love, and Hongjoong was never going to give you that. you commend Seonghwa for trying, but you’ve given up. fighting for love was exhausting, and you’ve been out of fuel for a while. the crash with your relationship with Hongjoong was inevitable, and as you walk towards the exit of the club, you feel the familiar ache that came with loving Kim Hongjoong.

but you want to heal, and healing means no more loving those who do not wish to be loved.

except the moment you reach for the door, a hand pulls your arm. you stumble at the abrupt stop, turning and falling into someone’s chest with an “Oof.”

you look up with a glare, ready to tell the person off for grabbing you, until you find dark eyes; familiar, dark eyes.

an unbelieving scoff bubbles out of your throat, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Hongjoong?”

you move to put distance between the two of you, but his arms move to wrap around your waist, holding you firm but gentle. the feeling makes your heart stutter, though the glare on your face does not give it away.

“Y/n… wait, okay?”

he looks absolutely ravishing. gelled back dark hair, narrowed eyes and silvery jewelry lined up his ears. he’s clad in a black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbow with dark pants to match. you want to slap him for looking so attractive.

you squirm in his arms, though he does not let up, “Wait for what, you fucking asswipe. Let go of me.”

he frowns at you, face moving closer to yours as you lean back. “Please?” he says quietly, and you wouldn’t have caught it had he not been so close.

you hate the way your movements falter, body subconsciously relaxing in his embrace. you hate the way your heart picks up at the close proximity, never getting used to his presence even if you’ve seen him in more intimate settings. but most of all, you hate your lack of strength. because the truth was, you were weak when it came to Kim Hongjoong. and that was no less true now.

you huff, arms crossing, “Fine. But not here, let’s go outside and talk.”

he graces you with a smile, perfect teeth coming into view and the sight makes you want to melt into a puddle. fuck him and his simultaneously hot yet cute face.

Hongjoong’s arms unwrap themselves from you, and you find yourself missing the warmth. he grabs your hand next, swiftly intertwining his fingers with yours as he pulls you to the exit.

you find yourself in the alley next to the club, leaning on the brick wall as you cross your arms. “So, talk.”

Hongjoong stands before you, looking rather nervous as his hand rubs the back of his neck. “How have you been?” he asks hesitantly. you want to slap him for the nth time tonight.

“Fine, until I saw you. What do you want, Hongjoong, and don’t waste my time.” your brows furrow, eyes coated with fury as you watch him bite his lips as he thinks of what to say.

“I have feelings for you!”

your breath hitches, arms uncrossing, and falling to your sides in shock. of all things, you were not expecting him to say that.

you have been enamored with Hongjoong since the start, but he suggested a ‘no strings-attached’ relationship between the two of you causing you to believe he would never feel the same way. and after your fight two days ago, you had completely given up on him. you cannot fathom hearing him say this now.

he unbuttons the top of his shirt, tugging at the collar as his cheeks heat up. he looks to the side, “I realized after our last night together… and I completely freaked. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.”

you watch him with parted lips, and your chest feels warm when you watch the tips of his ears turn red.

“I’m really fucking sorry for everything I said. I woke up with you in my bed, and I realized I wanted that forever and I just… got scared. I was wrong, you aren’t just a distraction; you’re so much more. You mean so much to me it’s terrifying.”

he walks closer to you, hands cradling yours as he brings them to his face, kissing the back of each one gently. “But I don’t care anymore. A life without you is more scary than anything else.”

he seems sheepish as he looks into your eyes, “And I understand if you’re angry, but I would really like it if you could give me another chance.”

you deadpan at him, “Are you done?”

his face drops, looking heartbroken as he nods, unsure.

“Good.” you murmur, letting go of his hands and watching the despair take over his face until you grab his cheeks, pressing your lips to his.

he lets out a surprised sound, hands grabbing onto your shoulders before he reciprocates, sliding his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. he walks forward, pushing you towards the wall as his head dips, deepening the kiss and squeezing your waist. your hands wrap around his neck, sliding into his hair and ruffling the previously slicked back strands.

he pulls away first, and you want to whine. you look up at him with an angry glare, though all he does is chuckle and lean down to peck you once more. your lips chase his, but he moves his face swiftly, head dipping towards your neck as he kisses the skin softly. “Let’s take it slow this time, okay? I want to care for you properly.”

you sigh, wincing slightly as he nibbles on your sensitive skin, soothing the sting with a small lick. “Okay, then why the fuck are you doing all that?”

he brings his head out of your neck, laughing. “Alright, alright, i’ll stop.”

you huff, “I never said to stop, but whatever, let’s go.” you move to turn around and walk away, but his arms immediately grab you and pull you into his chest. you sag into the warmth as you huff once more, “What is it now?”

he kisses your temple, and you feel his chest rumble with another laugh. you don’t see what’s so funny, but you smile at the sound of his joy regardless.

“Just wanted you to wait for me. Let’s go, I’ll take you home.”

Hongjoong drops you home, walking you to your door with a kiss on the lips, and a promise that he would make you happy. so perhaps in the end you did fight for love. you loved, you fought, and you hurt. but as you lay in bed and your eyes begin to close, you realize you don't mind the outcome of your fight.

after all, your weakness didn't have to be a weakness any longer; he would be your strength.

a/n: little drabble while i continue to write my soulmate AU hj fic:>

unofficial tags: @scuzmunkie :>

#ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong angst #hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff

253 notes · View notes

tainsan · 8 months

Text

misfits IX

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: physical fights, anxiety, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, character death, suicidal thoughts and intentions

⇥ word count: 7.2k

⇥ a/n: in this chapter it may be very triggering to those who have gone through abusive, suicidal, life threatning situations. read with care please. i love you all!

⇢ masterlist ⇠

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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Making your way towards school, a sense of unease settles within you, noticing that the usually bustling entrance appears strangely vacant. Only a few faces pass by, and a heavy silence hangs in the air, contrasting starkly with the usual lively atmosphere. Your footsteps echo in the quiet corridor as you head towards your classroom, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. Suddenly, a group of girls rush past you, their voices filled with excitement and urgency. Initially, you try to ignore their chatter, focusing on reaching your destination. However, a particular snippet of conversation seizes your attention, causing your heart to skip a beat. The words spoken are like a thunderclap in your ears, freezing you in your tracks. Unable to resist, you strain your ears, desperate to catch any further information. Their voices carry a mix of shock and speculation, creating an unsettling tension in the air. The words they speak seem to hang in the silence, seeping into your consciousness and intensifying your growing sense of dread. Your heart pounds in your chest, a combination of fear and curiosity gripping you.

“Apparently the whole friend group was being vicious to her, her brother just found out and is going to sort that piece of shit out.”

Your world threatens to crumble around you, the words of the girl echoing in your mind, panic surges through your veins, propelling you into action. Without a second thought, you sprint in the direction where the two people vanished, your heart pounding in your chest. With each stride, your determination intensifies, fuelled by a mix of fear and concern for your dear friend's well-being. Rounding a corner, you are met with a disturbing sight—a crowd of people gathered in a tight circle, their collective energy palpable. Anxiety grips your entire being as you push your way through the throng, desperately trying to reach the centre of attention.

Amidst the sea of faces, you hear a heart-wrenching cry, instantly recognizing it as Hwa's voice. Panic tightens its grip around you, urging you to hasten your steps. Finally, at the front of the crowd, you witness the harrowing scene before you, a confrontation between Hwa and another student named Dae. Hwa lies on the ground, blood trickling from his broken lip, while Dae stands over him, seething with anger.

Protective instincts kicking in, overwhelming your senses as you attempt to break through the circle of onlookers. Determination fuels your efforts, urging you to reach Hwa, to shield him from further harm, and to remove him from this dangerous situation. But just as you're about to reach him, a restraining hand grips your shoulder, digging into your skin, effectively holding you back.

Turning to face your captor, you recognize him as one of Dae's friends, a knot of frustration and anger forming in your chest. Desperation fills your voice as you plead with him to let go, to release you so you can help your injured friend. The intensity of the moment heightens, with emotions swirling in a tumultuous mix of fear, anger, and the unwavering desire to ensure Hwa's safety.

“You are a piece of trash, Park.” Dae speaks, his voice echoing around the hallway.

“Leave me alone, please.” Hwa’s voice is broken and trembling, causing tears to fall from your eyes, still urgently trying to free yourself from the grip you are being held in.

“Did you and your friends really think you could get away with hurting my baby sister?” Dae growls, his anger evident as he grabs Hwa by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up to meet his face.

“Please, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Hwa exclaims, his voice still as soft as it has always been, tears falling from his eyes.

“Look at you playing dumb.” In a harrowing display of cruelty, Dae continues to taunt and assault Hwa, revelling in the encouragement of the cheering crowd. Horror overtakes you as you witness the repeated acts of violence, unable to bear the sight of your friend being subjected to such brutality.

A primal scream escapes your throat, a desperate plea for the torment to cease. The sound reverberates through the air, carrying with it the depth of your anguish and the plea for mercy. Every inch of your being is consumed with the need to protect Hwa, to shield him from further harm. Summoning all your strength, you manage to break free from the grip that had held you back, propelled by a surge of adrenaline. Falling to your knees at Hwa's side, you cradle his head in your trembling hands, tears streaming down your face in anguish and disbelief.

In that moment, time seems to stand still as you take in the sight before you; one of your closest friends, someone you have grown to love, now bearing the physical scars of this vicious assault. The weight of the situation settles heavily upon you, powering a mix of anger, sorrow, and an unwavering determination to protect and support Hwa in any way possible.

Gently, you caress his bruised face, your touch an offering of comfort and reassurance amidst the chaos. Your voice trembles as you speak softly, vowing to be there for him, to stand by his side through the pain and the healing process. Unconditional love and unwavering loyalty radiate from your every word and touch, as you silently vow to do whatever it takes to ensure Hwa's well-being and seek justice for the injustice inflicted upon him.

“___.” Hwa exclaims, anxious as to why you have appeared here, involving yourself in his drama, wanting you to get as far away as possible from here.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“What have we here?” Dae questions, confused as to why you of all people would come to Hwa’s rescue.

Gaze lifting towards Dae, a surge of anger courses through your veins, fuelling a fierce determination to confront the source of your friend's suffering. The sight of him, callously laughing at Hwa's pain, ignites a burning rage within you.

“Fuck off Dae.” Your voice is bitter, threatening the man to stay away.

The laughter echoing around you intensifies the flames of fury within you, driving an indignant rage that propels you forward. The collective amusement of the crowd only strengthens your resolve to shield Hwa from any further harm. With a surge of determination, you crouch down beside Hwa, carefully slipping your arms underneath his shoulders. Your touch is gentle yet firm, as you lift him off the cold ground, cradling him in your embrace. Every movement is executed with utmost care, your focus solely on safeguarding him from any additional pain. The weight of Hwa's body against yours serves as a reminder of the vulnerability and fragility of the person you hold dear. Your protective instincts surge forth, serving as a shield against the cruelty that surrounds you.

Burning with a commitment to defend and nurture, you cast a defiant glance towards those who have found amusement in Hwa's suffering. The fury in your eyes mirrors the flames of indignation that rage within your heart. With determination etched upon your face, you steadily navigate through the crowd, disregarding the laughter and jeers that continue to echo in the air. Your focus remains solely on Hwa, your every movement calculated to ensure his safety and well-being.

“So, the mute girl finally decided to speak up. It’s a shame you are such a bitch, you are actually quite pretty.” Dae taunts you, his disgusting eyes scanning you up and down as if he is checking you out, making you feel utterly gross.

“Fuck off.” You repeat, pulling Hwa with you, away from the crowd.

“You are not going anywhere, sweet cheeks.” Dae exclaims, walking behind you and pulling on your hair harshly, causing you to topple backwards, Hwa falling with you, yet he manages to keep standing.

Your body collides with the unforgiving concrete floor, a sharp pain courses through your back, causing you to wince in agony. The impact steals your breath away, leaving you momentarily stunned and vulnerable. Yet, amidst the throbbing ache, the sound of Hwa's concerned voice calling out your name breaks through the haze. His worry for you fills the air, intertwining with the growing fury that consumes his being. Ignoring the pain that reverberates through his own body, Hwa crouches down towards you, taking your body into his grip, offering support and a lifeline in this moment of despair. With a grateful nod, you reach out to accept his hold, the touch of his warm skin bringing a sense of solace and reassurance.

“I’m okay.” You manage to whisper, Hwa helping you to your feet, you groan, your back extremely painful from the impact of the flooring.

“Look at this cute couple, guys.” Dae exclaims to the crowd, causing the crowd to erupt with noise. Satisfied with the reaction, Dae turns back to you and Hwa, who is fuming with anger.

“Why do you look so angry, Hwa?” Dae mocks the nickname you so tenderly call him, causing the boy who you call your closest friend, to see fiery red.

Before one can fully grasp the unfolding events, Hwa swiftly delivers a powerful punch directly to Dae's jaw. As a result, Dae finds himself sprawled on the floor, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, and struggling fruitlessly to regain his composure. Hwa, on the other hand, displays remarkable composure, seemingly unfazed by the barrage of punches aimed at him. However, the moment the focus shifts to even the slightest concern for someone else, an overwhelming surge of rage consumes Hwa, overpowering his entire being.

"Let's get out of here," Hwa whispers urgently, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos. His grip tightens around your hand as he swiftly navigates through the frantic crowd, leading you towards the school's exit with a determined stride. Together, you sprint relentlessly, propelled by adrenaline and the instinct to seek refuge.

The clamour gradually fades away as you finally reach the entrance of the familiar warehouse you've frequented all too often lately. Your chests heave with exertion, breaths coming in ragged gasps, as you find relief in leaning against the sturdy door. The coolness of its surface against your clammy skin provides a momentary respite, offering a soothing contrast to the intensity of your pounding heart. Caught between physical exhaustion and a whirlwind of emotions, you struggle to discern the source of your frenetic heartbeat. Is it the aftermath of the sprint, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, or the lingering fear and anxiety from the harrowing fight you just narrowly escaped? The answer eludes you, blending seamlessly into the complex tapestry of sensations enveloping your trembling body.

“Are you okay?” Hwa questions, turning towards you, extremely concerned about you, wishing you had never got involved. Yet, he is tremendously thankful for you in this moment, for saving him from the horrific situation.

Concern etches itself into your voice as you exclaim, "Are you alright, Hwa?" Your hand instinctively reaches up, cradling his face in your grasp, delicately tracing the contours of his wounded lip and cheek. The injury, crimson and inflamed, accentuates the intensity of the moment. Time momentarily halts for Hwa as your tender touch lands upon his cheek. A rush of warmth floods his face, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. His heart skips a beat, entangled in a chaotic symphony of emotions, as the focused attention from you amplifies the intensity of his feelings.

“What were you thinking, throwing yourself in there?” Hwa exclaims, getting slightly angry at you for involving yourself in something so dangerous, and getting hurt in the meantime. However, the second he sees you flinch at his tone, he relaxes a little, taking your hand in his, trying to calm the storm in his head. Gently, he pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he caresses the back of your hand, the action causing your entire body to flare up in intense heat.

“It was dangerous, ___.” Hwa sighs, disappointed in you, yet also relieved for your defensive actions.

“You’re my friend, Hwa. I would do it again just to keep you safe.” You admit, eyebrows furrowed, worrying deeply still about the cuts adorning the man’s face in front of you.

Before you can utter another word, the comforting strength of Hwa's arms envelops your waist, securing you in a protective embrace. His voice, laced with vulnerability, reaches your ears as he confesses, "I was terrified they would hurt you, angel."

The endearing nickname, coupled with the sudden intimacy of his hug, weakens your knees, and sends a surge of electricity through your veins. Your heart, already racing, defies logic by quickening its pace even further.

Reluctantly, Hwa withdraws from the embrace, his gaze locked onto yours. In the depths of his eyes, a plea resonates as he implores, "Please promise me you won't put yourself in danger like that again. I can't control myself when it involves you." Once more, Hwa pulls your body closer to his, melding you together in a warm and tender embrace that emanates comfort and security.

“Let’s get you home.”

The journey to your house unfolds in a serene tranquillity, accompanied by the gentle rhythm of footsteps. Hwa, against your repeated protests, politely takes charge of your backpack, cradling it as if it were a precious burden. You can't help but steal glances at his side profile, where the remnants of the recent altercation have left their mark. Anger courses through your veins, directed at Dae for daring to tarnish Hwa's ethereal innocence with intentional harm.

As you near your street, you inform Hwa that you can manage from here, urging him to attend to his own injuries. Reluctantly, he relinquishes the bag, his eyes brimming with concern and adoration. A radiant smile illuminates his face as he salutes you playfully, a display of unwavering loyalty and obedience. He assures you with firm determination that he will follow your instructions, his promise hanging in the air like a tender pledge. With a mixture of longing and regret, he begins to retreat, heading back towards the familiar warehouse where his trusted friends await. Your gaze remains fixed on his diminishing figure, his silhouette merging with the shadows as he disappears around a distant corner. A sense of joy lingers within you, replaying the cherished moments etched in your mind—from the embrace that enveloped you in warmth to the tender words that danced upon his lips. It leaves you feeling both exhilarated and flustered, the blush of anticipation gracing your neck and cheeks.

Approaching your house, the remnants of your elation dissipate, usurped by a sudden shift in atmosphere. The front door, usually a barrier between the outside world and your home, reveals itself to be slightly ajar. A sense of unease settles deep within you, coiling around your heart. Despite the flicker of apprehension, you summon courage, attributing the cracked entrance to your mother's recent onset forgetfulness. The familiarity of the surroundings tries to lull your concerns, offering a fragile shield against the encroaching shadows. With cautious steps, you enter the threshold, the weight of uncertainty bearing down upon your shoulders, overshadowing the comfort of the familiar walls.

Traversing the long hallway, flashes of bittersweet memories dart through your consciousness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions that have always remained disturbing. These fragments of the past merge with the present, clouding your thoughts and leaving you in a state of introspection. With a determined stride, you make your way towards the living room, driven by the anticipation of reuniting with your mother, who likely seeks solace within those walls.

Her absence from the world, outside her locked bedroom has persisted for weeks, a sorrow-laden isolation that followed the tragic loss of your younger brother a few months ago. The weight of grief has clung to her spirit, rending her heart and soul, leaving her shattered and desolate. It's with a mix of excitement and trepidation that you approach the living room, knowing that beyond its threshold, you might find your mother, either silently engrossed in the flickering glow of the television or consumed by tears as she clings to a photograph of your departed sibling.

A sense of hope swells within you, lifted by the faint sound of her cherished soap opera resonating through the closed door. It reverberates louder than usual, yet its amplified volume fails to stir any concern within you. Instead, a profound contentment washes over you, your heart brimming with the simple joy of being able to witness your mother's face once more. With a smile adorning your features and an unmistakable sense of anticipation fuelling your every movement, your hand reaches for the cool touch of the metal doorknob. You turn it, unlocking the gateway to a reunion that holds the promise of comfort and the potential for healing.

“Mom, I missed you…” You voice trails off as you take in the scene in front of you, falling to your knees, your life feeling like it’s being ripped out of your body, a shriek ripples from your throat as you crawl towards the body of you mother, hot tears starting to stream out of your eyes like a waterfall.

“Mom, this isn’t funny, wake up. Please, I need you.”

---

On the day of your mother’s funeral, you barely make it out of bed, let alone to the shower where you spend almost an hour in, just sitting on the cold tiles, your knees brought to your chest as you let the scorching hot water cascade down your body, not even paying attention to the way it tingles and pains your soft skin.

Looking into the mirror in front of you, you see how pale and lean you have gotten, your cheekbones starting to become prominent on your features, your eyebags incredibly noticeable due to the extreme lack of sleep. Nothing some concealer cannot fix.

The ceremony is long and tedious, your heart heavy with grief and your spirit fractured by loss. It's your mother's funeral, a day that should have been filled with support and unity, yet you find yourself standing alone, abandoned by the one person who should have been there. The one person who should have shared this painful moment with you, gone. Anger wells up inside, a flood of emotions threatening to spill over. How could your own father not bother to show up? The absence feels like a betrayal, a harsh reminder of the fractured relationships that have haunted your life the past few months. With each passing minute, your anger intensifies, fuelled by the profound disappointment that you carry in your heart. Yet, amidst the rage, a quiet determination takes hold, a vow to honour your mother's memory. Even if it means doing it without your father.

Standing there, your eyes transfixed on the sight of your mother's coffin being slowly lowered into the earth, a numbness envelops you, seeping into the depths of your being. The world around you begins to blur, as if a fog has descended, obscuring everything except the weight of loss that hangs heavily upon your shoulders. It feels as though the ground beneath your feet has vanished, leaving you suspended in a void of sorrow. Every ounce of energy seems to have been drained from your body, leaving you devoid of purpose.

The thought of attending school, completing exams, once a mundane routine, now feels impossible. The weight of grief renders you incapable of leaving your bed, the covers becoming a reserve for your shattered spirit. The outside world seems too vibrant, too demanding, as you struggle to find the strength to face each day.

The days blur together, spent in the quiet solitude of your room, where tears mingle with memories, and sorrow becomes the only companion that seems to understand your pain. You feel your entire body, soul, spirit breaking into thousands of pieces as reality truly dawns on you. You are alone. No matter how hard you try, she cannot escape the haunting image etched into your mind, the lifeless body of your mother, forever frozen in time. It lingers in the depths of your thoughts, an unwelcome presence that refuses to leave.

Every blink of your eyes replays the scene, as if you are trapped in an endless loop of agony. The image haunts her waking hours and infiltrates her dreams. Each time you close your eyes, the vivid details resurface, the stillness of your mother's form, the paleness of her skin, the emptiness in her eyes. The weight of this image, like an anchor to your soul, threatens to drown you in a sea of despair.

You have not seen your eight friends since the fateful day of the fight in school. In the midst of uncertainty, you find yourself hovering on the edge of anxiety, not knowing if your new friends are thoroughly searching for you. Your mind becomes a whirlwind of questions and doubts, each thought spinning faster than the next. Are they frantically combing the city streets, calling out your name in desperation? Or have they been caught up in their own lives, oblivious to your absence? You yearn for a sign, a glimmer of reassurance that they are actively searching for you, that they haven't forgotten you amidst the chaos of their daily lives, the rumours starting to claw at their backs. The nagging uncertainty tugs at your heart, and you begin to wonder if you truly hold a place in their thoughts, or if you are slowly fading into the backdrop of their existence, just how it always seems to happen.

After hearing nothing from you for almost two weeks, it’s then when they conclude that you must have heard the horrendous rumours and for some reason, believed them. It broke them harder than it did when the rumours first came out. You are leaving them, even though you promised to stay by their side, crushing their entire souls. Not being able to come up with any other solution, they decide it must be because of the deadly rumours. The conversation Yunho had with you the night it all started, rings like an anthem in the tall boy’s head, “We will get this sorted, Yuyu.” As Yunho stands in the empty warehouse, his heart shatters into countless pieces, and he struggles to comprehend the sudden disappearance of the person who had captured his soul. The pain bites at him, seeping through every fibre of his skin.

In the wake of your absence, his once soft heart transforms into a frigid block of ice, encased in an impenetrable wall. The warmth and tenderness that once explained him now give way to walls that rise, brick by brick, shielding him from the pain of vulnerability. He retreats into himself, wary of letting anyone come close enough to inflict further wounds upon his already battered spirit. The echoes of your absence reverberate within, as he navigates through the world with a guarded heart, vowing never to allow himself to be hurt in such a profound way again. You are not who you said you were.

----

In the hushed darkness of the night, the city streets unfold before you as an uncharted path. Grief etches deep lines of sorrow on your face, your footsteps heavy with the weight of loss. Fresh from your mother's funeral, the ache in your heart resonates with every breath you take. You walk aimlessly, your tear-filled eyes fixed on the cold pavement, a sudden movement catches your attention. A young child, full of innocence and joy, frolics, and giggles in carefree abandon. But life's capricious nature intervenes, the child stumbles, tumbling to the ground with a startled cry. From the shadows emerges his mother, her arms outstretched in swift reflex. She cradles the fallen child, comforting him with gentle whispers and soothing caresses. The tenderness of the moment pierces your already fragile heart, intensifying your grief as you realise you no longer have anyone to rely on when you fall. A wave of anguish crashes over you, overwhelming you in a storm of sorrow. The stark contrast between the warmth of a mother's love and the void that now engulfs your existence feels unbearable. It magnifies your loss, leaving you feeling adrift in a world that once held such a vibrant life.

Darkness cloaks your spirit as you continue your solitary journey through the city. Each step deepens the ache within, a constant reminder of the irreparable void that has fractured your world. Within the twinkling city lights, tears blend with the shadows. Carrying the weight of your mourning soul, longing for comfort in the midst of the deep emptiness that envelops you. The city becomes a silent witness to your pain, as you navigate the night, seeking relief in a world that seems barren of such comfort.

Finding yourself walking up the endless flights of stairs, there is determination in your steps. Of course, the elevators are out of service, you grumble under your breath, but not finding it in yourself to get angry. It’s when you reach the top floor that your true intentions dawn on you, and for some reason, you aren’t even upset at your decision. Opening the door, you are met with the cold winter air of the outside, tickling and numbing your nose. Snuggling deeper into your coat, you slowly trudge your way onto the large rooftop, the view showing the entirety of the city. If you weren’t so emotionless, perhaps you would find the view beautiful.

You know your intentions. You intend to carry out the raging thoughts in your head. However, you let your mind be silent at this moment. Allowing your mind to truly see the view. At least your last view is a beautiful one. The lights of the city and surrounding buildings illuminates the rooftop in many colours, almost making rainbows around you. Strolling closer to the ledge, you rest your hands on the railing, it being icy to the touch, letting it cool down your burning hands.

This is it. This is all it took. Finally, the endless torment from the universe got to you. You thought you were stronger than this, truly, yet you must have overestimated yourself.

Just as you lift your leg to climb past the railing, you hear a sob sound from your left. Whipping your head to the left, your gaze locks onto a man standing perilously close to the ledge, a mere twenty metres away. Panic courses through your veins, electrifying your senses as you witness the man lift his leg, poised to climb over the railing. Instinct takes hold, overriding rational thought, propelling you into action.

With an adrenaline-fueled burst of speed, you sprint towards him, your footsteps resounding with urgency. Each stride is propelled by a desperate determination to reach him in time. As you draw closer, your hand reaches out, gripping his arm with a fierce strength, forcefully pulling him away from the ledge. The intensity of the moment disrupts your balance, and you both tumble to the ground with a resounding thud. As you gather your bearings, you cast a worried glance at the man beside you, relieved to see him on his knees, away from the precipice. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, momentarily easing the grip of fear that had held your heart captive. However, as your gaze settles upon his face, a chill of dread sweeps over you, causing fresh tears to spill from your eyes. In that heart-wrenching moment, a torrent of emotions crashes over you as you recognise the boy in front of you.

“Hwa? What the hell are you doing up here?”

Hwa's emotions ripple across his face, a spectrum of fury, realisation, and hurt unfolds before you, each expression chipping away at the innocence that once defined him. Your heart shatters, the pieces scattering like fragile glass, as you witness the profound transformation that has gripped him. The radiant glow that drew you so close to him has disappeared, leaving only fragments of its former shine. His features, usually animated and vibrant, now resemble a mask of emptiness. His gaze, locked on you, conveys disbelief and disbelief, struggling to comprehend that you stand before him, having just witnessed his desperate attempt to end his own life. Tears stain his face, tracing trails on his reddened cheeks, while his eyes remain bloodshot and swollen from the storm of emotions within him. It is a devastating sight, one that pierces your very core.

In that moment, the strength that once buoyed you crumbles, reducing you to a sobbing mess. The weight of the situation bears down upon you, threatening to drown you in a sea of sorrow. Your heart aches with a fierce empathy, as you see the depths of Hwa's pain laid bare before you.

Recognizing the anguish in his eyes, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. The tremors coursing through his body reverberates through your own, a testament to the intensity of his suffering.

“Leave me alone,”

“I’m not leaving you, never.”

“You already have ___.” Hwa cries out, his heart searing even more from the pain of having you next to him, seeing him so vulnerable.

“I never left you, I am here Hwa. Please tell me what is going on.”

“It was my dad. He paid Ryu to tell everyone that we hurt her. Because of me, my friends are going through hell, this is all my fault.” Hwa’s voice is muffled by the skin of your neck, his tone choppy and fast, stuttering on his words, the air not able to reach his lungs. Trembling, Hwa attempts to speak once again, his voice quivering with raw emotion as he strives to articulate the depths of his devastation. However, the weight of his suffering proves overwhelming, constricting his throat and stifling his words. He gasps for air, a desperate, guttural wail escaping from deep within him. You find no room for anger, for your attention is wholly devoted to your friend, cradling his fragile form within your embrace.

“Why would he do that, Hwa?” You pry him for answers, anything so you are able to comfort him, to know what has his entire soul breaking down.

“Because I chose my mom over him. I hate the way he treated my mother and he can't bear that his only son, the heir to his dumb company, refused to take his position. All because of me, he is ruining our lives.”

The mere thought that Hwa's own father could inflict such cruelty and depravity upon his own child sears through your consciousness. It awakens a violent stream of rage, yet you suppress it, knowing that your immediate priority lies in comforting and supporting Hwa in this extremely vulnerable moment. With unwavering determination, you hold him close, his body seemingly devoid of strength as you envelop him in the warmth of your presence.

“Shh,” you stroke the back of the man’s head, trying all you can to calm him down, knowing all too well how extreme and messy his emotions are right now, the smallest things being able to set him off into another fit of sobs.

“I’m sorry, ___, I should have never involved you with us.” The grip Hwa has on your clothes is strong, as if he is trying to ground himself.

“Hwa, it’s okay. You have given me a family; you have made me the happiest I have felt in a while.”

“Please don’t leave me. I thought, we thought you had left us.”

“I’m sorry, Hwa. I won’t leave you ever again, I promise.” Your embrace around the man tightens as you bring him closer to your own body, needing the comfort just as much as he does. Gently pulling away, you look Hwa in the eyes once again, “please don’t leave me, you cannot die Hwa. You have so many people here who care so much about you. You have so much to live for.”

Reluctantly, Hwa nods his head, tears still falling down his swollen, red cheeks. Again, you pull him towards you, this time he is able to fully reciprocate the hug, his arms wrapping strongly around your waist, resting his head onto your shoulder, silent cries falling from his drained lips. For what feels like hours, you allow Hwa to weep into you, allowing him to let all his emotions out, the bitter winter air freezing the two of you, yet your body feels like it is on fire. The thoughts of your own demise, slowly seeping from your mind, your focus only able to be on the person held in your tender embrace. As you speak, you notice the subtle change in Hwa's demeanour. The tension in his shoulders easing, and his breathing becoming less laboured. You can see a flicker of light, a glimmer of hope, begin to illuminate his tear-stained face.

Time seems to stand still as the two of you remain locked in the intimate bubble, shielded from the outside world. In that sacred space, you vow to be his anchor, his sanctuary amidst the chaos. Gently wiping away his tears, you brush away the remnants of sorrow that cling to Hwa’s cheeks. With every touch, every caress, you intend to fill his brokenness with warmth and tenderness. Slowly but surely, Hwa begins to respond to your affection. His grip on despair loosens, and a twinkle of gratitude dances in his eyes. Sitting together, enveloped in a cocoon of shared vulnerability, your hearts beating in sync, amidst the shattered fragments of Hwa's anguish, you feel your bond growing stronger than ever before.

The situation feels almost surreal, like a poignant twist of fate. Here you are, providing comfort and solace to someone who was on the brink of ending their own life, even though you yourself had come to the rooftop with the same haunting intention. The irony isn't lost on you, and in this juxtaposition of emotions, you find a glimmer of understanding.

You offer your words and support, a profound realisation washes over you, a sense that perhaps the universe has a hand in this moment. It's as if it's gently nudging you, reminding you of the value of your own existence. With this realisation comes a newfound determination to embrace life, regardless of the hardships it may present.

You make a promise to yourself right then and there, a vow to keep living, to persevere through even the darkest of times. The weight of your decisions becomes palpable, and you internalise the significance of taking control over your own life. This is your journey, your path to navigate, and you're resolved to make choices that reflect your will to live.

Amidst the gravity of the situation, the exchange of comfort and support takes on a profound meaning. The connection you share with the person you're comforting underscores the intricate web of human experiences, reminding you of the complex nature of life's struggles and triumphs. As you extend a lifeline to someone else, you inadvertently extend it to yourself as well, reaffirming the powerful impact of compassion and empathy in the face of life's challenges.

---

The next day, you went to the warehouse, knowing the group would be there around this time. Desperately needing to clarify to the eight why it is you suddenly disappeared. They deserve an explanation, you know it wasn’t right of you to suddenly vanish, but you have a feeling they would understand if you gave them the true reason for your childish behaviour. Chuckling slightly, you know the captain of the group would scold you for calling your actions immature, knowing he will tell you that people can deal with anguish in many bizarre, different ways.

With a mix of curiosity and hope, you gingerly push against the creaky, metal door, revealing a dimly lit interior that holds countless secrets. A flickering ray of sunlight pierces through the cracks in the worn-out roof, rays of light to beam onto the dusty concrete floor. The air carries a faint scent of aged wood and memories.

Your eyes adjust to the gloom, you expect to find the familiar sight of your companions gathered in their usual meeting spot. But as you step deeper into the vast space, your eager smile begins to fade. The echoes of your own footsteps being the only sounds that reach your ears, creating an eerie backdrop to your growing unease. The once vibrant walls, now marked by time and neglect, stood as silent witnesses to the absence that fills the room.

Darting your gaze around, searching for any trace of your friends. The chairs and couch where you had shared heartfelt conversations and wild laughter stood empty, their positions untouched since the last encounter. The remnants of forgotten games and unfinished projects lay scattered across the floor, a bittersweet reminder of your bond. Yet, your friends are nowhere to be found.

Panic mingles with confusion as you comb through the deserted warehouse, your heart sinking with each unanswered question. Did they leave in a hurry? Was there something you had missed? Your mind races, questions bounding around your head, desperately trying to work out the mystery that lies before you. Examining every corner, every shadow, desperately hoping to catch even a glimpse of your friends, to hear their familiar voices or see a glimmer of their presence.

However, the emptiness persists, only amplifying your loneliness. It feels as though time has frozen within these walls, leaving you suspended in a world that has suddenly grown cold and desolate. The warehouse, once a beacon of friendship and shared adventures, now serves as a persistent reminder of her friends' mysterious disappearance.

Just like that, they disappeared without a trace. You searched everywhere you could for them, the skatepark you heard Woo talk about, the record store their captain had bragged about almost every day, the specific part of the park with white flowers that Yeo liked to bring you to, the ice cream shop which they all went to almost every single day. There was not a single trace of them. The only memory being the beaten-up brown couch in the abandoned warehouse, which now appears to be officially abandoned.

---

After a long and tiring day at school, you wearily walk through the bustling streets, your mind preoccupied with the usual worries and trivial concerns.

Since the boys mysteriously disappeared from your life, the torment you endured at school escalated to vast heights. The once-familiar hallways transformed into a battleground of constant jeering and merciless bullying. Day after day, the piercing insults and hurtful taunts relentlessly rained down upon you, leaving wounds that ran deeper than you ever imagined possible. Each cutting remark, every malicious laugh, further numbed your spirit, suffocating any remaining ember of joy within you. The weight of the cruelty you faced settled upon your shoulders like an unbearable burden, crushing your spirit and leaving you questioning your worth. As the days turned into weeks, the pain only grew, carving a ravine within your heart that seemed impossible to bridge. The constant onslaught of humiliation chipped away at your resilience, leaving you more vulnerable and isolated than ever before. The vibrant colours of life dulled as you retreated into a shell of self-preservation, shielded from the outside world by a thick armour of numbness.

In the midst of this relentless storm, you found yourself sinking deeper into the depths of despair, your emotions gradually numbed by the unending cruelty. The once-bright spark of hope that had illuminated your days dimmed, overshadowed by the darkness of your daily torment. Yet you remember the promise you made yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you are suddenly jolted from your trance as a stranger appears before you, an unexpected intrusion into your world. Instantly, a primal instinct surge within you, gripping your heart with fear. Taking an instinctual step back, your eyes narrow warily, as your body tenses in self-defence.

But as your gaze scrutinises the stranger, a peculiar realisation washes over you. There is an undeniable gentleness emanating from him, a warmth that belies his unfamiliar presence. His eyes, though unfamiliar, carry a glimmer of understanding, as if he holds some secret knowledge. Cautiously intrigued, you find yourself leaning in, allowing curiosity to momentarily overshadow your initial apprehension.

“It’s ___, right?” The stranger's voice, when it finally reaches your ears, bears an uncanny familiarity and you find yourself wondering as to how he knows your name.

“My name is Bumjoong, I know your friends…”He speaks of your eight friends, their tender nicknames rolling off his tongue with an intimate familiarity that sends shivers cascading down your spine. A chill dances along your skin as the realisation dawns upon you – this stranger knows them, knows the depth of your connection, and knows your place within their intertwined lives.

With a mixture of trepidation and longing, you listen intently as the stranger, now revealing himself as a relative of ‘Captain’, begins to unfold a heart-wrenching truth.

“I am not quite sure how to break this to you, but they have passed away.” He delicately confesses that your friends have passed away, their spirits departing from this earthly realm.

A surge of desperation engulfs you, as you plead with the stranger, your voice laced with a mixture of hope and despair, yearning for answers that might provide solace or healing.

“What? What do you mean? What happened?” your voice is desperate as you plead for one answer, anything.

However, the stranger, though understanding the turmoil within you, stands resolute in his silence. Your pleas fall upon closed lips, his reasons for withholding the details shrouded in mystery.

“I’m sorry ___, truly. You’re going to be okay.” Is all he says before slowly fading from your presence, leaving you alone with the weight of his revelation, a tempest of emotions rages within you.

“It's not true.” You say to yourself, over and over, tears falling freely from your face.

For months on end, you wage a war against the harrowing news you received. Denial becomes your refuge, a desperate attempt to cling to the belief that your friends are still alive, that their laughter and shared moments have not been extinguished. It becomes a battle fought within the depths of your own mind, as you fiercely defend the hope that they will one day return, that this cruel reality can somehow be undone.

Yet, as the relentless passage of time weaves its threads, your resistance begins to fray. The fortress of denial that you have so painstakingly built crumbles, unable to withstand the unyielding weight of truth. Slowly, hesitantly, you open yourself up to the possibility that your beloved friends have truly departed from this world. The bittersweet tendrils of acceptance seep into your consciousness, searing your heart with an indescribable ache, as you embark on a gruelling journey through the depths of grief. With each passing day, you learn to navigate the relentless waves of sorrow, gradually embracing the harsh reality that your cherished friends are no longer with you, their presence forever etched in your memories and the ache of their absence ever present in your soul.

They are gone.

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