#kind of a soulmate au? not explicitly

[bananakarenina]

20 + rukebox

i can feel you dreaming of me

she dreams of the melody first.

julie molina walks through her waking life as normal, and when her eyes flutter closed there's a song in three-part harmony always floating through her mind.

well. maybe not through her mind--it almost feels like the song is her mind; it's not just something she's thinking of, in this dream world; it *is* the world. the notes swirl around her like fog and like wind, and the very sound pulses from her skin. it's as if she's a walking melody when she's here in her dreams. the music comes from the very core of her.

it's the most beautiful she's ever felt ever in her entire life.

for awhile it's just her, a melody humming on the breeze. and then one night: there's a counterpoint, bright and sharp, and it cuts through the fog like a beautiful burst of light.

i found you, it seems to say, a thread of pure joy pulsing through. i found you!

you found me, julie sings back, with her whole self.

another night there's a thrumming low rhythm instead, and julie knows it's not the same counterpoint as before. this feels like going for a walk on a sunny day, a bounce in her step and her heartbeat in her chest. it makes her feel like dancing, and she does, and the rhythm itself seems to grin somehow, and something else lights up inside julie like the pulse of fireflies on a summer night.

a lot of times the counterpoint melody and the rhythmic bass come together, and with julie they make the most beautiful sounds she's ever heard. a three-part harmony with chords that couldn't possibly be real, but the thing is.

the thing is.

now, when julie wakes, she's hearing music everywhere she goes. not on store radios, not in her earbuds, but something is humming along with her very life, and every day it's getting louder, more insistent. there's a melody, and bass, and even drums now too; entire songs unspooling in her mornings and in her nights.

flynn just says she's glad julie has her music back, after rose.

but julie knows that's not it. or at least, that's not all of it. something is coming to life inside her--something she thought was gone, yes, but also something she didn't know was there.

it happens one ordinary day. a tuesday, maybe, or a sunday afternoon, a soft slow day in the middle of january, but it's los angeles, so the sun is shining and it's a perfect day to walk along the shores of silver lake and daydream.

and then she hears it. hears them.

"i still think something is missing--"

"come on, luke, it's a good song, what could possibly be--"

"i just think--back me up here, reg--there's another vocal line, i just can't--"

julie's running. julie's spinning and running and there's a band on the boardwalk stage, three boys, bass and drums and guitar, and they're beautiful, and that melody in her soul rings so loudly she can't help but--

rise through the night you and i we will fight to shine together

the guitarist looks up first--his eyes are piercing and bright, and julie knows: it was his countermelody. it was his, and her heart sings.

the bassist, next, and his smile is familiar and warm as fireflies.

"oh, boy," the drummer finally says, and julie can't help but grin at him, too. he looks exasperated, but in a fond way, and when julie laughs it feels like a symphony in her chest.

"it's you," the guitarist says.

"i found you," julie says.

and when they all sing together it goes like this:

bright forever

#okay so the peterpatterlina thing is a little metaphorical #but trust me that it is there! #peterpatterlina #rukebox #kind of a soulmate au? not explicitly #dreamworld au

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 19

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 

word count: 40K (yeah....i promise it doesn't feel like that much!)

warnings: cursing, lots of casual drinking, mature content, angst, mutual pining, a shit ton of sexual tension, slight jealousy, making out, kissing, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, reference to depression, some self-blaming, whipped! hyunjin, a lot of fluff

a/n: this is definitely one of my favourite chapters, and ends with an arc I've been looking forward to for a while. it's a very hyunyn centric chapter, which is why i love it. i honestly could have worked on this chapter forever, because there's so much i wanted to include, and i hope you like the finished product. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read, and some light music to match. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the warmth of the apartment, battling the cold from the outside where he’d left the door open. His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”

It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak. You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?

You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction. He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too. You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”

“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”

Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”

Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him. His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched you. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”

“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened. You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He blinked at you, voice raising in his prolonged disbelief, “Wait…What are you talking about? What do you mean, you’re going home?”

You had no clue how to explain this to him, you suppose it was out of nowhere…but what did he expect? Right at that moment, Jeongin finally caught up to you on the sixth floor, and he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees, panting, “I have no idea why I just ran up all those stairs.” He straightened up, finally noticing Hyunjin, “How did you get into the building?”

Hyunjin looked back at him as if this was the last of his problems, stating bluntly, “I pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just come into a stranger’s building, what the hell, dude” It should have been expected that Jeongin, obviously was unaware of and possibly didn’t give a fuck about idols. In any other circumstance, you might have found it funny. Hyunjin frowned at him, “I’m not a stranger. She knows me.”

You sighed, “Jeongin, I’ll be down in a minute. Thank you for getting the taxi.” Jeongin was still suspiciously glaring at him, then looked at you, face immediately relaxing, “Okay. The drivers really hate waiting, so I suggest you go soon, Y/N.”

Your decision was suddenly settling in and becoming more real. You gave him a nod, “Right. I’ll get going then.”

You stepped past Hyunjin, brushing his shoulder, and a part of you was satisfied that he didn’t have as big of an effect on you as he used to. You didn’t stop dead in your tracks because of him. You’d decided what you would do, and nothing Hyunjin could say would change your mind. It seemed like he was still catching up to this new information you’d dumped on him. His face was in disbelief as you passed him, and you hurriedly descended the stairwell. If you stopped to think about this decision, you might regret it, or you might cry, and you weren’t going to let either happen. The front door was in sight, and chills ran up your skin the closer you got. Your head was pounding with the weight of this hurried decision. You won’t regret this. You couldn’t. Daejon was your home, and you needed to be there.

Through the fog of your thoughts, you heard Hyunjin call your name. At first, your name sounded like a realization, and then it was more in desperation. The taxi waiting for you honked loudly, and you paused at the front door. Hyunjin’s footsteps were loud in the atrium, and he was running down the stairwell. He was running to catch up to you. It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do. He could fall or trip. That was the only reason you stopped, turning around in frustration, “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”

He gripped the rusty railing, and his coat flew behind him as he caught up to you, breathless, “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me?”

“It’s stupid to run down the stairs. What were you even thinking?” You frowned, heart calming down at seeing that he was okay.

“I’m not thinking.” His teeth grit together, and he was still breathing heavily, voice hoarse, “I don’t understand. Can you just please talk to me?”

“What part?” A sorry laugh escaped you, “I told you. I’m going back home. That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He reached out, grabbing your arm to stop you, “No, but why?”

You weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Of course not. “I don’t know Hyunjin. There’s nothing in the city for me to stay for. Why are you even here? I thought you said you couldn’t be a part of my life.”

Hurt flashed across his face, which you couldn’t even comprehend. How could he be hurt right now after he’d pushed you out this whole time? You’d been in the same city as him for months, yet he never reached out to you, or apologized. He couldn’t just suddenly want something else when it was convenient for him. 

“But…what about the classes? What about Kim Jieong? He wouldn’t want you to leave.” He knew nothing about your time in the classes, he had no right to question you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, and all the emotions you suppressed came up. Just then, the taxi honked again, and the phone in your pocket started buzzing too. You looked at the caller ID. Felix was calling and you picked up, eyes on Hyunjin’s briefly, “Yes, Lix?”

“Have you left for the train station yet, love?” He was concerned, so full of care for you. Your heart softened, and your voice dropped as you held the phone tightly to your ear, “No, I’m on my way. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“It’s getting late. I’m worried about you.” He spoke. Hyunjin was staring at you as you took the phone call. Your gaze briefly flickered over him. Even now, after running down the stairs and walking through a freaking snowstorm, he looked like some kind of angel. There was snow all over his coat and his hair. His nose and cheeks were dark pink, and his lips were still bitten raw. “Don’t be worried. I’ll be home soon,” You mumbled, calming Felix’s tendency to worry about you. Felix had an unspoken excitement in his tone, “Okay. Love you. See you soon.”

You swallowed, highly aware of the man in front of you, “Love you too.” It’s as if those words changed the atmosphere. Hyunjin’s tense shoulders dropped as if resigning to a chosen fate. When you hung up, pushing the phone into your pocket, Hyunjin spoke, “So you’re just leaving? That’s it?”

“Yeah. What would you want me to do? Say goodbye? Maybe I would have, if I still had any way of contacting you,” You said. A taunt and petty jab, sure, but it was also the truth. Hyunjin wasn’t there when you needed him, so why was he here now?

He closed his eyes in regret. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it was the truth. After all, you two were practically strangers right now. You didn’t know what was going on in his life. You didn’t have any of his information. Yet he was here, in your apartment building. Curiosity tickled you, and you tilt your head, “Why did you even come here tonight, Hyunjin? Did something happen?”

His eyes pierced through yours, “I… wanted to talk to you. I would have come before, but… I’ve been traveling all month, I couldn’t help it”

“Right. Japan. Must have been nice.” 

You were aware you sounded like a bitch, but that was the only way you could distance yourself, so leaving him behind would hurt less. Except that would only work if he let you leave. He grabbed your arm again, pulling you close, “Y/N… what’s going on? Please…tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes seemed so sincere. He seemed so sincere. And concerned for you. Your heart squeezed in worry. He must be so confused. If you really wanted to hurt him, you would leave right now with no explanation. It would show him how you felt, how it felt to be on the other side of things, to be cut off like this. But you weren’t him, so you’d at least try to offer an explanation.

“Hyunjin…” Before you could continue, the cab outside honked twice impatiently, and you realized all your suitcases were in the trunk. If the driver got pissed and drove off, your stuff would be gone too. Not that there was anything you still cared for in it. But you panicked, “Fuck…I would like to explain, but I don’t have the time. He’ll leave, and all my stuff’s with him. I’m sorry, you’re too late, Hyunjin.”

His face dropped into despair and that was all you had time to register before you turned away, walking out the door. The taxi was parked right outside with the engine running to preserve warmth. The apology was already on your lips, “I’m sorry sir. I got held up.”

The driver looked pissed as hell, and he glanced at you from his window, “You’re heading to the station? Because it seems like you’re wasting my time.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” 

He rolled his eyes, slurring words, “Either get in, or take your shit and get out”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” 

Oh god. 

Hyunjin had followed you out, obviously having overheard this. You turned to him, “I got this, okay? You don’t need to—”

“Dude, I have other customers too!” The guy yelled at him, clearly pissed by how Hyunjin talked back, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Hyunjin was staring at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You didn’t know how he’d react. You’d never seen this side of him, and you reached out to him, “Hyunjin, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t”

He bypassed you, stepping up to the guy, leaning in to rest on the driver’s side window, “How much?”

“What?” The guy spat back.

“How much does she owe you?” Hyunjin repeated in a calm tone. The taxi driver was eyeing him back, “For this nonsense, three hundred thousand won”

You almost laughed, “What?”

“Okay,” Hyunjin replied, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He took out his credit card, and handed it to him calmly, “Please open the trunk”

The guy also didn’t seem to believe it, and he was wide-eyed, grabbing Hyunjin’s credit card to swipe it. And then with ease, Hyunjin grabbed your suitcases, pulling them out and settling them down on the curb.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you have a good night,” Hyunjin said to him, still in a calm voice that contrasted with the drivers’. The guy looked up at him, “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”

And then he drove off in a plume of smoke and snow.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” 

You’d been too shocked to process the state of things. Hyunjin looked back at you, the ever-present image of calm, “Can we go inside?”

You stepped up to him, in disbelief, “No, no, we fucking can’t. That was my ride. Why did you just pay him off? And three hundred thousand won? Are you insane? He completely ripped you off! And why the hell are you making decisions for me?”

“If you really want to go, I’ll drive you to the train station, but I’m not letting you get into a car like that, he seemed wasted.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “You’ll drive me to the train station?”

“Yeah, I will, if it means you’ll be safe.”

“From how you’re acting right now, you seem pretty wasted too.”

“Look.” He suddenly said, “Kairi told me you haven’t responded to her texts in a week. She got worried—”

“And she sent you here to check up on me? Kairi should know better.”

Hyunjin ignored your jab and continued talking, “And clearly she was right to be worried, because you’re moving out in the middle of the night in a freaking snowstorm!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not really.” You stared at him, hugging yourself tighter. The snow was coming down heavy, wind building up so you could barely even hear each other. He seemed unaffected by every attack of yours, “I know you don’t…but… she’s worried about you. The least you could do is tell her what’s going on.”

You glared at him, “So you’re only here for her, right? If I call her right now, you’ll leave?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing, “No…I’m worried about you too. I…don’t understand.”

Of course, he was worried now, the only time it seemed to matter the least. You were freezing, and the time for leaving seemed to have come and gone. You could book another taxi, but the snow was only growing, and there was still time for your train, so it wouldn’t make any sense to stand outside in this terrible weather. So you said, “Yeah. Sucks not to know things, doesn’t it?”

Hyunjin ignored the taunt yet again, and picked your suitcase up, “Can we please just wait inside?”

So, you didn’t argue for once and let him follow you back inside. It was just a matter of time, but this meant you’d need to have an actual conversation with Hyunjin, and you were dreading that. 

“You live on the top floor?” He asked, looking up the atrium. You took your bag from his hands, “Yup. I’ll take that.”

“What, no” He didn’t let you, pulling it back, “You’re not carrying that up.”

It wasn't even heavy but you gave in, too tired to protest, letting him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You were so annoyed that you only just realized that this meant he’d see where you live. You suddenly felt embarrassed. The stairwell was rickety and shabby. Your apartment was so small, it felt like a joke. And he’d see it. Maybe this was a bad decision, but it didn’t matter anymore what he thought. He probably already thought terrible things about you. He certainly wouldn’t have ignored you for months if he didn’t.

You pushed open your door, and he stepped in tentatively. There wasn’t really much for him to see, yet his eyes traveled across the entire space and all your furniture as he took it in. He’d never even seen your room in Daejon. So he must think you live like this all the time. Poorly and with no taste. It was laughable how different you two were.

“No art?” He questioned, staring at the empty, barren walls. A pang hit you as you realized, “I got rid of it.”

He glanced at you, eyes wide, “Oh.”

You sat on the armrest of your couch, facing him, and he still stood at the threshold, processing your apartment. He seemed weirdly fascinated with it and asked, “Can I come in?”

“You’re already like, halfway in, so yeah” You mumbled. He stepped inside, for real, shutting the door behind him. This all felt so insane. Hyunjin was in your fucking apartment. Why? You thought you’d got rid of all the anger in you, but you certainly hadn’t. Your conversation with Minnie and Jamie came back to you too. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her. Is that why he was interested in you again? That’s probably why he was chasing you again.

“So…um, I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but what about your friends? Kairi…and the people from your classes. Do they know why you’re leaving in the middle of the night?”

You stared at him, observing his expressions. If you told him about Kim Jieong, you’d have no idea how he’d react. You mumbled, “No. They don’t. It doesn’t concern anybody but me.”

He nodded slowly, hurt flashing through him, “Okay. Can…we talk about something else then?”

You crossed your arms, unsure what he even meant, “Yeah. We can talk about how my train leaves in three hours, so I have to be at the station before then.”

He swallowed, “You’re…not going to show me around your place? This is the first time—”

“From where you’re standing, you already saw all of it,” You replied, feeling embarrassed despite not wanting to care. He nodded, “Oh. So…you sleep on the couch?”

You let out a dry laugh at that. Obviously, he was right to assume that based on what you said, but it was still funny because it could have actually been true. You’d been so stupidly fucking desperate for the city you’d have literally slept on a park bench if you had to. Hyunjin frowned at your laughter, “I…I was just asking. Sorry”

“No, I sleep in my bed, which is in my bedroom and I don’t really see why you’d care about that, so…can you cut to the chase and tell me why you came to my apartment in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm?”

He swallowed, resting his head against your front door, “It wasn’t snowing when I left…”

“Oh, right. That’s inconvenient for you. You wouldn’t have come if it was.”

“No, I still would’ve come.” His eyes narrowed, “Please…just…can you talk to me normally?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I understand that you’re pissed at me, but I just want to have a conversation. I came here because I was worried about you. I would have come sooner if I could, but with my work it’s impossible. So please…can we just talk?”

No, you couldn’t because if you 'just talked’ to him, you’d remember how crazy in love with him you still were, after all his repeated rejections and ghosting, and not wanting you. You changed the topic, “You know that cab driver ripped you off, right? That ride isn’t worth that money.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “I know. But…he was drunk, and it’s not safe for him to drive anyone. With that amount, he wouldn’t have to take any more customers for the night. It’d be enough for the week.”

So he was still kind to everyone except you. Even to your wasted taxi driver. Good to know.

“There. I answered your question. Are you going to be answering mine?” He spoke, for once matching your fervor and energy. You stared at him, “Which question? You asked me, like ten.”

He sighed, stepping away from the door, and closer to you. He was so tall, he really did make your apartment seem small. He was almost as tall as your couch. You gripped the sides of the armrest, looking up at him. His face traversed many expressions like he was struggling with the right thing to say, and then he spoke, “Are you okay?”

You chose to be honest, chewing on your lower lip as you admitted, “I will be when I get home.”

His face fell, like he’d been expecting something else, and his whole body seemed tense. You suppose it was a valid reaction because this had been your dream, so he couldn’t possibly understand why you were running away. “But…”

“But what?” You asked, looking up at him, not wanting to leave any breathing room for emotions because now was not the time. If you went down that spiral, you’d never come back out, “It’s your turn to answer now. I still can’t understand why you’re here, after our conversation in the car.”

He contemplated for a second, looking away, and then back at you, saying, “I came here to make sure you were okay… that’s why I got on the first flight back home.”

You stood up, staring at him, “Flight back from where?”

“Bangkok.” He stated, a tinge of embarrassment in his features, “We had a schedule there…a show, but Kairi told me that you hadn’t responded to her texts, she was really worried…I had to come back.”

You stilled, and he surprised you for the first time that night. “What about the others?”

“The rest of the band is still there.” He spoke, “I just… couldn’t wait”

“You…took a flight for this?” You were having trouble processing this. He nodded, resignation and disappointment in his voice, “But clearly I should’ve come sooner.”

For a second, you allowed yourself the luxury to wonder if things would be different, had he come sooner. If things had been different, had he never left you at all. You couldn’t even imagine the other side of things — a reality where he stayed with you all this, and maybe all those bad things wouldn’t have happened to you. You couldn’t blame Hyunjin for everything that went wrong in your life after he left, but it sure seemed convenient to blame him. A myriad of thoughts overwhelmed you. He was confusing you too much. You needed to get out of this city, far away from here, and it felt like you were suddenly leaving with no good memories. Hyunijn was looking at you so deeply, so you swallowed your pride, “Can you do me a favour, Hyunjin?”

“Anything. What is it?”

“Can we just…stop by the Atelier before you take me to the station?” You asked, hoping he would oblige you in this last request since he seemed far too eager anyway, “Please.”

“Oh. Okay.” Defeat sank into his shoulders as he realised you had indeed made up your mind. Maybe he expected to hear something else from you. He didn’t protest though, because he had already agreed. In deafening silence, he led you to his car, which was parked around the block. When he opened the trunk, you saw his own suitcase. A simple black suitcase. He really had just come from the airport. It shocked your heart in a way you’d craved for all this time. When Yeonjun had come home to make up with Hana, you’d wished that someone would love you that much, to fly across the country for you. And Hyunjin did even more than that. He flew from another country… Yet you didn’t know what to make of it. He only came because Kairi was worried for you.

He carefully placed your bags next to his, as if anything was fragile in them but your clothes. He was uncannily quiet as he drove you, and you had nothing left to say. You watched the passing skyscrapers, and craved for the quiet of the mountainside back home. The Atelier wasn’t too far from your place, and he already seemed to know the way.

“So why are we here, Y/N?” He asked, as you both stared up at the towering glass building that was home to your classes. Seeing it now in the dark, it was one of the prettiest buildings you’d seen, built like art, for artists. You remember seeing it on the front page of the brochure you’d found years ago, and it had decided the trajectory of your life. It was still snowing, flakes falling on the two of you, and it was so cold in the parking lot. You owed him an explanation so you spoke, “This last week, I was working on a painting. It was becoming something really special, but… I forgot it in the classroom. I’d like to take it with me when I go.”

“Oh.” He simply nodded like it made all the sense in the world, not questioning this stupid request, and followed you to the front door. Obviously, nobody was here. It was after hours, and no security guards were in sight. You stared at the revolving doors, trying to figure out a plan. “Is it locked?” Hyunjin asked you, sounding impatient in this weather, “You don’t have the access card?”

If you entered the building with your keycard, it’d send a notification straight to Kim Jieong. That’s how he’d known you were here the last time. The memory sent you a shudder, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into him. You bit your lip, “Wait. I’m thinking.”

The cold was making you do stupid things, like shifting closer to him, so your shoulder would brush his. Simple body heat. Even through your thick coat, and his, the touch sent a flutter to your stomach. Hyunjin glanced at you as you did that, and his lips were becoming icy cold, “Well… it’d be nice if you could think faster. I wouldn’t want to die of hypothermia before you figure it out.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden sass in his tone, “Are you done?”

“Give me your keycard, let’s just go in.” He let out a breath, fog leaving his mouth. You frowned, not wanting to explain the whole story, “I don’t have one. It’s deactivated.”

“Okay…” He sighed, looking around the facade, “Is there another entrance we can use?”

You thought over his words. You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You shrugged, hands deep in your coat pockets, “The back door.”

“Well, why don’t we just use that?” He asked. You shot him a tight smile, “It’s technically off-limits.” It was the emergency stairwell. You’d heard enough lectures about it, but you didn’t care right now. That was the only way to get into the building. You’d just have to suck it up. “I’m going to have to…technically break in.” You stepped ahead. His eyes widened, and he reached out to stop you, “What?”

“Only technically. You should probably go back to the car, because if someone comes here, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It could hurt your…reputation.”

“No, it could put us in jail.” He stated matter-of-factly, and the cold must make him more sassy or annoyed or something. You didn’t have time for this. You sighed, crossing your arms, “That’s exactly why you should wait in the car. I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll grab my stuff and come.”

He let out a forced laugh, and there was a shiver in his voice, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be quick,” You reassured him. He stared at you, deadpan, “You’re not going in there by yourself.”

You frowned at his displaced concern, “It’s just an art school, Hyunjin, nothing’s going to harm me in there”

He glanced up at the towering building that did look kind of ominous right now, “You don’t know that. I’m not taking any chances.”

You felt frustrated because he was only protesting and not offering any solutions, “Well, you’re not stopping me, Hyunjin.”

“No, I’m coming with you.” 

“What?” You scoffed, “I’m breaking in. If somebody finds out, you’re going to get into trouble—” 

“I don’t care.” He interrupted you harshly and then took a breath, repeating, “I don’t care if I get into trouble. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” 

Your eyes widened, watching him. Did he really not think of the consequences? He spent all his life protecting his public image, and now he was willing to risk it for you? His words sent an unpleasant feeling down your spine. He cared. He cared about you to the point that he was okay with being caught. That was a new kind of feeling you couldn’t process. All this while, you’d prioritised Hyunjin’s needs and the consequences in his life because he was so much more important than you. This was new.

“Are you sure?” You asked. He glanced at the building and then around the abandoned parking lot as if he was seriously reconsidering this absurd request. You saw the hesitation in his posture, his lips parting as if to say no he was only joking, and he would never do something as stupid as this. Then his eyes landed on yours. They flickered over your face, the cold in his gaze melting into strange tenderness, “Of course I’m sure. I can’t let you go alone.”

“Fine.” You nodded, breath coming out in a cold puff, “We should be quick.” He followed you to the back of the building, the big glowing EXIT sign, and the notice that read, ‘This is not an entrance. Please use front door access’

You sucked in a breath for good measure, pushing the door open, and when no immediate alarms rang, you stepped in. Hyunjin followed you into the darkness, and you switched on your phone's flashlight to guide you. You were still shivering. There was no heating in here, and he asked, “Now what, Y/N?”

“My class is on the top floor,” You whispered, just in case someone was in the stairwell.

“I’m guessing we can’t use the elevator?” He deadpanned. You gripped the handrail, “Yeah. Using the elevator’s too risky. If someone’s still in the building, they’d realise.”

“This painting must be really important to you.” He spoke, following you up the stairs into complete darkness. The Atelier was fancy, but this stairwell…was not. It was industrially exposed, the sound of a loud generator buzzing and a flickering light above you. There was a constant banging sound that you guessed was from the pipes in the wall. You tried not to overthink this situation, where Hyunjin was breaking and entering with you in your dream academy. Each little sound was putting you on edge. You heard him mutter, “This is really creepy.”

Over your shoulder, you peeked at him. He had his flashlight turned on too, and it shone into his face, dark shadows over his jaw and lips. “Are you afraid?” You asked. He shook his head, “Let’s just get this over with, Y/N.”

You climbed the rest of the floors in silence, preserving your voice and breath. It was still freezing in here, and you did feel bad that you’d dragged him along for this. But out of everything, this was the least he could do. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come here alone, not after what happened the other night with Jieong. You were glad he insisted to come with you, even if you never would have expected him to in a million years. Finally, you reached the landing for the highest floor and stopped to catch your breath. There was a door marked ‘Rooftop Access’, that led to the greenhouse-studio. 

“Do we exit here?” He asked, reaching out to the knob. As he pulled the door open, light flooded the stairwell from outside. The lights in the studio were usually always turned off, but if they were on.… The cogwheels in your brain clicked just in time.

“Stop!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back towards you. He stumbled, losing his balance in the dark and you steadied him. He braced himself against the wall, unintentionally pressing you to it.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide.

“The lights were still turned on. That means someone’s in there.” You breathed, heart racing fast. You could have easily been caught. You weren’t really worried for yourself because you had nothing to lose, but Hyunjin…you really didn’t want to get him into trouble, even if he was completely okay with the consequences. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh. Okay”

He stepped away from you, and you could hear his heartbeat. “You scared me” He mumbled, after a while. He reached up to fix his messy hair, moving it out of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were scared of the dark, Hyunjin.” You mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not. I’m…scared of people yanking my arm suddenly in confined spaces.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You touched his arm, brushing over the coat, wondering if you’d grabbed him too hard. Had you bruised him? He didn’t stop you, as if he enjoyed being fawned over and then spoke, “So what is our plan? Are we going to stand in the stairwell forever? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the station.”

“We’re waiting for them to leave, whoever it is” You mumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall to rest, “I don’t want to run into anybody.”

“What if they decide to stay here the entire night?”

“They won’t. It must be a janitor. They’ll leave soon. Nobody even comes in after hours. The other night when I was—” You cut yourself short, not wanting to tell Hyunjin about the events of that night. He picked up on it though, tilting his head, “When you were what?”

You cleared your throat, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

His lips pursed, but he didn’t question further. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Hyunjin’s head whipped to the door, then to you, “Are they coming in here?”

Clearly he was still scared of being caught, despite all the talk of not giving a shit about the consequences. In panic, you pressed your finger to his lips, “Can you please be quiet?”

He instantly shut up, not that he had a choice with you shushing him like this anyway. His lips were soft to your fingertips, and you stared at each other in the low light of your flashlight. The footsteps sounded again, and you heard the elevator ding. Whoever was in the studio had just left. You were in the clear. 

You retracted your hand, his saliva sticking to your fingers, and if it had been anybody else, you would have wiped it off immediately because that was gross. But with him…you didn’t care. You’d lick your own fingers to taste him, if he wasn’t standing right here. The thought crossing your mind was insane and you felt annoyed at yourself for trudging into that territory again. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you the last time you met, and the time before that, and before that. Why were you so fucking weak around him? All your frustrations with him couldn’t seem to damper the attraction you felt. “They’re gone now” You mumbled, hoping to sound as emotionless and detached as you aspired to be, wiping your hand on your coat, and Hyunjin noticed that, his cheeks tinging pink.

“Let’s go” He slowly followed behind you into the elevator lobby, where the massive glass doors led to your studio. He looked confused, “I thought we were going to a classroom”

“Yeah. We are.” You replied curtly, pushing open the doors and walking onto the metal walkway. Plants drowned you on both sides, and your company's only telltale sound was his winter boots loud on the metal grate. Hyunjin was looking around in awe, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes would always give him away. He was awestruck. A small part of you was satisfied. You’d been dreaming of this reaction ever since you’d joined these classes. At least you got to see it before you left. He reached out, touching the petals of a dozen different flowers as you passed them, until you entered the studio space. You used to feel so much joy stepping in here. But it had always been coupled with sadness too —you’d been moving on from Hyunjin in this very space, and here he was, none the wiser. 

“Shit. This is your classroom?” He stepped into the centre, doing a full circle, head tilted up to the glass ceilings. The view was so pretty at night, revealing the beauty of the lit-up skyscrapers. The famous city lights that Hyunjin loved. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to the storage cupboards. You tried not to think of Kim Jieong and what had happened the last time you were here. You had a mission, a singular focus, and you ripped open the cabinets, rifting through them to look for your painting. It was a massive canvas, but maybe somebody had rolled it up and put them here. There was no way they’d throw it away, right? You’d been working on it so deliberately. They’d have to know it wasn’t trash. Kim Jieong wouldn’t do that to you either. But after looking through every cupboard, your heart sank. There was nowhere else it could be. Maybe he did throw out your artwork, because none of the paintings you’d made in the last few months were here. Shockingly, it seemed you knew nothing of him. 

In defeat, you leaned against the desk, staring into the empty cupboard. You…had just wanted your unfinished canvas, as a stupid souvenir or something to take home with you so your time here didn’t feel wasted. You’d poured so much energy, hours of research and experience behind it. It was the first art piece in the city you’d genuinely been excited about, and now it was just…gone. Like it never existed in the first place, and you’d only been gone a week but it felt like you were already being erased.

A short laugh interrupted you. You turned to see Hyunijn bent over a telescope that looked out into the city, “This…is a dream. Holy shit.”

“I’m glad you like it” You mumbled, fiddling with your coat as you stayed in place. At least someone was having a good time. He glanced at you, cheeks red, and stood up straight, “This…is the coolest art studio I’ve ever been in.”

“Yeah. It is pretty cool”

“The range of this thing…is insane. I actually think I can see a planet from here” He spoke, focusing on the telescope again. It was cute, his tall frame bent over the telescope that was meant for much shorter people. He was so easily excited about things, like he had forgotten you’d broken into this building, and that you’d been arguing with each other less than an hour ago. It reminded you of how fixated he would get on the things he loved. 

“A planet? Wow…” You mumbled.

“Do you ever use it in class?” He asked, excitement in his tone.

“No…I never got the chance to.” Your voice dropped, trailing off at the what-ifs and your missed opportunities. You were running away from the place you’d dreamed of for so long. All because of a stupid man. It wasn’t fair to you. Nothing about this was fair. Why had you worked so hard for it to be thrown away? He blinked at you, as if he noticed the sadness in your voice, “Do you want to?”

“I don’t really know how it works.” You swallowed, staring at the empty cabinets, and your heart felt so heavy, like a huge weight was pressing down on it, and you couldn’t breathe right. All of the anxiety bubbled up in your throat, filling your lungs with it too. Your lip quivered, a tremble traveling through your spine, and the heaviness in your chest was only getting worse as reality set in. You were never going to be in here again. So much for chasing that dream.

“Come here.” Hyunjin’s soft voice broke your avalanche of despair. You sucked in a breath, hoping any tears would disappear and glanced at him. He stood against the large floor-to-ceiling window, hands around the telescope, the city as his majestic backdrop. You didn’t want to protest. This was your last night in the city, you might as well indulge in it. You walked over to him, and each step felt like so much effort, your boots loud in the quiet room.

“Stand over here” He said, his voice low but filled with excitement. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of committing a crime right now?” You couldn’t help but say, wondering if it’d snap him back to reality, if he would stop being such a romantic. His lip curled up into a smile, and Hyunjin was so pretty in the moonlight, voice dropping into a secret, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

God. His words sent chills down your body, momentarily displacing that heaviness. A secret night with him. The temptation was screaming. You stepped up to the telescope, bending down to the eyepiece. Hyunjin grabbed your hands without hesitation, placing them in the proper position on the metal tube. His voice was tender as he explained, “Now, put your hands here, and try to look through the eyepiece in that direction.”

Had you completely derailed from the plot? Your train home was in a few hours. Each second being here was literally a crime. Still, you indulged him, squinting to see where he’d pointed it. You could only see black and perhaps you weren’t special enough to see magnificent things such as celestial planets. You felt frustrated, trying really hard to see, but it was a big blob of nothing.

“Do you see it?” He asked, voice a whisper. You saw nothing of significance. 

“No…never mind.” You breathed, standing up straight with disappointment. “Wait…” He spoke, quick to want to fix it, “Can I…?”

You shrugged, not understanding what he was asking. He grabbed you by the waist, adjusting you slightly. His hand curled around your thick coat, and you wished he was touching your skin. He was so close to your body. Your breath was stuck in your throat, and then he said, “Can you try now? Bend down again.”

You followed his instructions like they were the words of god. You tried not to fog up with the eyepiece with your breath and to focus on the view, but Hyunjin was touching you and standing behind your body, so how could you possibly focus? You mumbled, “I just see…a big white spot.”

“That’s it” He whispered, leaning down, his mouth brushing against your ear, “That’s Jupiter, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you gripped the tube tighter for a better hold, “But it’s just a speck of light…”

He chuckled, breath warm on your ice-cold skin, “I know, we’re so far away from it, but it’s bigger than we can ever imagine. You see those two circles in the centre? Those are the cloud belts.”

“I see them.” You spoke, suddenly feeling so small. It was so huge, a real-life planet, and from here it was just a speck in the sky. Your place in the world felt even more trivial. It was so majestic. You tried to imagine all the pictures of Jupiter you’d seen, placing them into this context. Hyunjin’s hand was still on your waist, not that you could feel it much through the clothes, only a ghost of a touch. You straightened up, and he left his grip on you as you asked, “How do you know so much about this?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “I’ve been doing some reading. We’re lucky the snow stopped. Usually, nothing is visible. The lights and cloud cover are too much.”

You stepped away from the telescope, wondering where he found the time to read up about this between his very busy life, “I see.”

He had a hint of a smile, “What did you think? It’s surreal, right?” 

It was. It was so beautiful.... 

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “My painting isn’t here. We should go.”

The smile on his face dropped, and he nodded, voice returning to a normal octave, “Right. Where do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, and the weight on your chest was back, and you couldn’t look at him right now, “I checked everywhere. They probably threw it out. I should just go to the station, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Right.” His voice sounded hollow. You didn’t want to leave him. But he wasn’t even here, was he? He was just…doing you a favour, and then he’d go back to not wanting you in his life. 

“I can…help you look for the painting” He suggested, “Couldn’t it be in other places? We can check the rest of the building.”

“No, it’s gone. We came here for nothing. Please, let’s just leave.”

His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “This studio is beautiful. I’d…actually do anything to have a space like this to paint in, feels like I’d never run out of inspiration.” 

You stared at him, wondering what point he was trying to make now. Then he said, “Why do you want to leave this, Y/N?” 

You didn’t answer him, a horrible twisting in your gut, and glanced at the exact spot you’d been standing when Kim Jieong cornered you against the table, making all kinds of suggestions to you. You felt sick to your core again.

“It’s not because of me, right?”

You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed, and suddenly, the weight wasn’t pushing down but pulling you instead. You felt like you were drowning, lungs crushing with the force of being dragged down and you had tunnel vision, overwhelmed with everything, “What?”

“You’re leaving. Is it…because of me?” His voice was low, and his words were not helping. You couldn’t tell if Hyunjin was drowning you, or savi you right now.

A lump formed in your throat, forbidding you from speaking as you processed those words. Were you leaving the city behind because of him? Maybe. He was a big part of it, but you’d never run away from Hyunjin. You’d chase him forever if you could. How could he even think that it was cause of him? You bit your lip, “If it was because of you, I’d be gone a long time ago, Hyunjin.”

You turned to leave, and Hyunjin’s next words echoed through the large room, “Please don’t go.”

Your eyes widened at his…blatant, crude request. He’d done nothing but push you away. How could he ask you to stay?

“I know… I’m the last person who has the right to ask you to stay, but… there’s so much for you here. I know you would love it.”

You turned to face him, “Like…what?”

It’s like he didn’t expect you to actually humor him, and he blurted, tripping over his words, “You can’t leave without having seen Christmas. Everything’s…a blanket of snow, and it’s lit up, and the city lights…are so beautiful, Y/N. You can’t miss that. You can’t not see them.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and you wanted to cry at this. What kind of reasoning was this? Hyunjin was asking you to stay, and you must be dreaming, right? 

“Christmas is really far away, Hyunjin…”

He took another step closer, more confident like he'd found his reasoning now, “I know, but it’ll be so worth it. It’s my favorite time of the year. You’ll fall in love with it too. It seems like you hate this place, and it feels like my fault, but there is so much for you here. I’ve only been back a few months and I’ve already seen a hundred things you would love. You would appreciate them more than anybody, and I’ve thought of you every time. You belong here, not…in that town back home.”

It was so tempting, especially when he said it like that. “I can’t stay, Hyunjin”

He stepped even closer, “Why?” He asked, a desperation slipping through. He cared so much. You wish he had shown it before. It didn’t matter now. Things had immeasurably changed, in this very room. You had been trying so hard to not feel the weight of everything, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that.

The dam broke.

A single tear at first.

Then a sob. “Hyun…”

Immediately, without any question or hesitation, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms. 

His touch brought on a wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, pitiful sobs bubbling to the top. For the longest time, he just held you in his embrace and you cried. All you could register was his hold on you, and his heart racing against your ear. He squeezed you tightly, hugging you to him to pull you even closer to his body, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“He…he tried to—” You sniffled, unable to form the words.

“What?” He tensed in your grip. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear anything of that sort, but his hand still ran circles over your back, “Who did what?”

“Kim…Jieong.” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut in his chest, not wanting to burden him with this knowledge but your throat felt clogged with emotion that you couldn’t contain within yourself anymore, “He…said I could convince him”

You were aware that you made no sense, but it was enough for him to understand. Hyunjin pulled back, hands holding your shoulders as he looked at you, and his eyes were wide, “What? Did he touch you?”

“No…” You sniffled, lip trembling, “He…just…”

Hyunjin’s hand came up to your face, holding your chin unbeknownst that your professor had tried the same. You were only filled with terror when Kim Jieong did that, but right now…you felt the safest in the world. Your face was hot, his hand was warm on you. His thumb wiped your tears, the other hand holding your face tight, “What did he do?”

You shook your head, vision blurry from the tears in your lash line, and you had no idea how to explain this, “Hyunjin. I… don’t even know how to deal with this.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.” He said. You looked up at him, eyes blown wide, “What do you mean?”

He took in a breath, still holding you strongly, as his thumbs gently wiped the tears streaking down your face, and his soft gesture was a stark contrast to his next words, “Tell me what he did. I’m going to talk to that piece of shit.”

“No, you can’t. I…I don’t have any proof, Hyunjin and I don’t even know if he was trying something—” You trailed off, struggling with your words but he wasn’t even listening. He was staring into the distance, “I have to go talk to him.”

“What?”

He started walking out. What the fuck was he doing? You ran after him, tugging at his arm, “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”

He turned to you, his eyes were dark, and his jaw was clenched. and there was more emotion in his face than you’d seen in the past hour as he said, “He…he fucking touched you. He can’t… do that.”

“Oh my god, you can’t go after him” 

“Why?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You weren’t equipped to deal with whatever anger he held in him. It seemed like Hyunjin had quickly forgotten who he was in this world. A world-famous celebrity who definitely couldn’t go after a renowned artist, especially not at this time of night. As much as you appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t thought out at all, and it pissed you off, “You don’t even know what happened, Hyunjin!”

“It doesn’t matter. I know enough.”

“Can you please just…calm down?” Your eyes widened, regret soaring through you, “I…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It was a mistake.”

He frowned, stepping closer to you, “Fuck. Don’t… don’t say that. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.” You said. He let in a deep breath, like he was physically calming himself down, running his hands over his face, “Okay. I am listening. I just…need a second.”

You could see the anger surging through him, and you mumbled, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m…not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I should never have brought you here. I could have been on the train home already. You were right, okay? I am running away.” You admitted, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”

His voice softened at your state, “What are you apologizing for? Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, and you realised you’d have to tell him the whole truth now, because you’d stupidly brought it up. You wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he reached into his coat pocket, handing you a tissue, “Let me…”

“You…carry tissues with you?” You vaguely registered through your clouded judgement, wiping your face. He was quiet for a minute, and you tried to collect yourself. You were embarrassed, and your face was burning hot from crying, and from the shame, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry…I ruined your coat.”

“Come here…” He led you to the nearest table, pulling you to sit next to him. He hesitated before reaching out, hand on your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry for reacting. I…I didn’t expect to hear that, but you can’t understand how this makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it but I’m going to drive myself crazy if you don’t tell me what happened.”

He was right, and you probably would have reacted worse if someone had hurt Hyunjin. You would have lost your mind. You had thrust this information upon him unwillingly, and he did deserve to know the truth of it. Now that you tried to recall it, most of it felt like blanks in your mind and you muttered, “There’s an art scholarship that we were told about. It was a big one. If we won, it would pay for the rest of our year, and we could present our work in this gallery. It was supposed to be a huge honor. I was working on a painting for it the other night. I was here by myself…and…Jieong saw me working. I don’t…know how it led to that. I don’t remember most of it, but he said he liked that I was… desperate.”

“What?” Hyunjin interrupted you. You swallowed, “He said that I was desperate to be liked and respected and that I could go a lot of places in the world, if I…convinced him somehow. That all I had to do was ask him…and my dreams could come true.”

He scoffed, “By sleeping with him?”

“I don’t know. I left after that.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, “I was really confused.”

“He hurt you?”

You shrugged, a fresh wave of tears springing up, “No…at least not physically”

His hand reached out to yours, “I’m…really sorry that happened, Y/N.”

You pulled your hand back before he could touch it. You weren’t here tonight to seek Hyunjin’s comfort. You were just offering him an explanation so he wouldn’t be left in the dark after you were gone. You said, “But nothing even happened, Hyunjin. Nothing I can prove anyway. Except that he’s cancelled my scholarship.”

“He can’t do that” He said. You mumbled, “I missed out on an entire week of classes. He…has valid reason now.”

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, “Any of your friends from class?”

As if having this conversation once wasn't embarrassing enough. You didn't plan to tell anybody else about it. It would be a secret you'd take to the grave. If you told people, all they'd question was your obsession to come here in the first place. After all, why would a married man come on to you at all, risking his career? You must have come on to him -- at least that's what everyone would think. You shook your head, “Nope…Just…you.”

“I’m…sorry that this happened. I wish I could…do something to help.” He spoke. You looked at him, unable to comprehend that he was being kind to you again. He was so tender and caring right now, but how long could this really last? The last time he was this tender was in the storage closet, and he’d kissed you so passionately and then immediately cut you off. Wasn’t this compassion just temporary? You stepped away from him, running a hand over your face to wipe away the dried tears, “Yeah. No biggie.”

He noticed the change in your demeanor, dropping his hands to his lap, but said nothing of it. You stared at the place where Jieong had tried to make a move, and where your canvas had been. You wish you hadn't come here that night at all, then you could have been blissfully unaware of his behaviour and stayed happy. The longer you stayed here, the sicker you felt. 

“We should talk about this in my car.” Hyunjin said, offering his hand to you again. You stared at his soft palm and inviting touch, but you didn’t take it. If the rejection hurt him, he didn’t show it. You just hugged yourself, “Okay”

You followed him into the elevator lobby, about to head for the stairwell again, but he pressed the button for the elevator. You frowned, “We can’t go out the front door. If they see you—”

“I really don’t give a shit about that right now” He spoke, pushing a hand through his hair, and you noticed how tense he was, “If they catch me, I’d have a lot to talk to them about anyway.”

“But… this is not worth it.” You spoke, as the elevator doors opened. He took in a breath, facing away, running another hand through his hair, you realised he always did that when he was nervous, “I just… can’t believe they let an artist like that work with them.”

You steadied yourself against the elevator wall, as the floors went by. The doors opened into the lobby. You prayed that nobody was in there. No matter how much Hyunjin didn’t care, you didn’t want to cause a scene and you definitely couldn’t handle jeopardizing his job. If anybody saw you two… they could call the cops and he couldn’t afford to be put under scrutiny. It would risk his career and everything else that mattered. Uncaring of this, he stepped into the lobby, footsteps loud as he walked towards the front door. You followed, looking around and thankfully, the front desk was empty. The odds were in your favor, perhaps. He almost looked disappointed that there was nobody to confront as you exited the building. He was walking so fast, and you struggled to keep up as you made your way to the parking lot. Once you were sitting inside his car, you asked him, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”

“I don’t know. He…needs to be fired. He can’t just get away with what he did to you. Once he gets fired, they’ll put in a new teacher, and…you can continue the classes. And for what they’ve put you through, they should grant you a new scholarship anyway, no questions asked. He should be the one to leave, not you.”

Before you could think about his words, your phone on the console buzzed, and you both glanced at it. He read it the same time as you. There was a text from Felix. have you made it to the train station yet, baby?

Hyunjin looked up at you, eyes that were suddenly devoid of anger, but…a new desperation, “Do you…still want me to take you?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything on your shoulders again. Your suitcases were packed and waiting in the trunk. Your train was booked. You’d made your decision. You stared at the window, “Your…plan sounds fine Hyunjin, but… I’m not important enough for them to fire their biggest artist ever. Nothing good can come out of me staying here with that false hope.”

His eyes flickered over your features before turning away. He started the engine, and said nothing, pulling out of the driveway. You tried to gather your emotions, watching the snow piled up by the sides of the street. Your first and last snow here. You imagined being home already. It would help so much. Felix, Minho and all your friends. You'd go back to working at the art shop. Maybe you could pay a grand and enroll in the classes at the Chateau, and practice art under Seungmin. Nothing would come out of it but at least you’d be occupied. Some people weren’t built for greatness, and you could be okay with that, unlike the boy next to you. Hyunjin suddenly spoke, hands gripping the wheel tightly, “It’s not false hope. Something like this can have serious repercussions. You should’ve told me the second he did that. He would already be out of his job by now.”

He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on? You stared at him, “I don’t even have your fucking phone number, Hyunjin.”

He stopped the car, bringing it to the side of the road. You hadn’t reached your destination yet, and you were in the middle of a random neighbourhood. You stared at him, unsure of what was going through his mind, “What are you doing?”

He reached into his coat pocket, took out two identical phones and handed one to you, “I was going to give you this tonight.”

You grabbed it from him, “What is this?”

“It’s…a phone with my number on it” He said, looking right ahead, “I bought it for you.”

Your brows raised, “You…bought me a phone?”

“And this one…” He lifted his own identical phone, which also seemed brand-new, “This is mine. The only thing on it… is your number.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s so we can talk to each other” He turned to face you, “And nobody can trace it back to us, The phone isn’t connected to anything else, except…to each other.”

You blinked, trying to process this, “Oh”

He looked frustrated as he spoke, “I know what I said to you last time. I know that I said we can’t be in each other's life, but… I’m trying my real hardest to find a fucking way around it. What I did and said was uncalled for. I realize that…it hurt you, but you have to cut me some slack, Y/N. I’m…really trying to figure it out.”

“I’ve cut you more slack than I ever would with somebody who’s made it absolutely clear they don’t want me around them” You blinked. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I understand that what I said hurt you, and…I really didn’t mean to. You know me, Y/N, better than anyone in my life and…I would never want to hurt you like that.”

“Then why did you say all those things…?”

He let out a sigh, turning to look at you, “I was only thinking about myself. I guess… I was running away too.”

You stared at him, the irony of tonight striking you. You were blaming him for what he’d done, when you were now doing the exact same thing.

All the fight died down in you.

“We’re more alike than I thought.” He mumbled. Maybe now you could finally understand where he came from. The urge to shut down and cut everybody out had felt far too tempting. You glanced at him, holding the phone tight in your hands. This could be the last time you saw him. He’d never come to Daejon, and you couldn’t afford to come back here. Was this really it? The last time you ever saw Hyunjin. A new emotion overwhelmed you, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye so soon. “Can you please just tell me something before I go?”

His hands rest on the steering wheel, and it seemed like he’d already given up on convincing you to stay. His question came out defeated, “What do you want to know?”

You stared at his side profile, “How did you get the pictures? The ones from the booth.”

“I…went back.” He responded, not questioning the randomness of what you’d just said. You were confused, “What? Went back here?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, “Later that night, I went back to the summer carnival. After you’d already left. When we were in the booth, I deleted our pictures before they could be printed, but…they were still saved to the database. The machines have a backup server, they keep the data for a few hours before it’s overwritten.”

“How was that even allowed?”

“The guy that works there, I…asked him for a favor…and he obliged because well, it’s stupid…”

“Tell me.” You breathed, itching to know the story you’d been wondering for so long. His lip curled up into a reminiscent smile, “I promised to sign this album for his little sister. She really liked our band. Anyway, the guy, he let me access the backup, and…I printed them out.”

Your heart jumped at all of this effort, “Why did you do all of that after deleting them?”

He swallowed, “I changed my mind. I told you, Y/N…I wanted to remember that moment. I needed to.”

You looked away into your lap, “Oh…well…thank you for putting them in my sketchbook, but I’m sorry… I lost the pictures.”

“You what?” He looked at you. You breathed, feeling guilty, “They got ruined…so you did all of that for nothing.”

“Oh.”

There was no way for you to get them back. The summer carnival was long over, and the pictures were erased. It was strange how you two talked about them, clinging to a memory that was long gone, and he never questioned you and why you wanted them. He didn’t question why you were so fixated on them or what they could possibly mean to you. Hyunjin nodded, eyes glazing over you as if he lost deep in thought, “How did they get ruined?”

“They got wet in the rain.” You swallowed. He still seemed shocked at your previous statement, “So…you had them with you? I thought that you would throw them away, after we stopped talking…I thought you hated me.”

“You know me. I hold on to things stupidly, even if I was mad at you. Anyway, not that it matters now…” You shrugged. He nodded, like he was still in his head, and then he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out a strip. Your eyes widened. 

He had them. In his wallet.

“You made a copy?” You couldn’t believe it. He let out a laugh, saying, “I went to a lot of effort for these, Y/N. Do you really think I wouldn’t have made a copy?”

“And… they’re in your wallet.” You realised. He swallowed, “Yeah”

“Have they been in your wallet this whole time?”

He blinked, “Yeah. In hindsight, it was a really stupid decision because if I ever lost it, anybody could have seen these. Guess I haven’t been thinking straight, but…you can have my copy”

You delicately grabbed it from him, and it was only worth a few coins but you handled it like it was worth millions. It was a treasured memory. A moment when you’d given in to each other completely, and you had been so happy then. You'd give anything to have those secret moments again, even if they stayed a secret forever. Nothing had felt as rewarding as his lips on yours, making you feel like he wanted you just as bad.

His copy was wrinkled, like he’d taken it in and out of his wallet a million times to look at it. Your copy used to be pristine, it stayed in your sketchbook but his…it was tattered with use. There were folds after every image, and you slowly moved your fingers over them. Your voice was soft, “Have you really changed your mind?”

“About what?” He asked, curiously. You looked at him, “You showed up at my doorstep. It must have been…for something.”

“I changed my mind about a lot of things…” He spoke, the dim streetlights reflecting in his eyes. Curiosity overwhelming you, your voice was a whisper, “You said you were running away too. What made you stop?”

In the darkness of the car, the shadows on his face were intense, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “That night in the car. You said that… all this time you haven't been okay, and that you still aren’t and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you didn’t know the real me, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Who I was in Daejon, that’s…the best version of me, and it took me a really long fucking time to realize that. It was an asshole move that I did. I know I apologized to you, but I wanted to do it again tonight. I’m…really fucking sorry for pushing you away, Y/N. I should have just explained what was going on.” He paused, “But…I guess I’m too late since you’re leaving anyway, right?”

You looked away from him to the snow on his windshield, “Yeah, what will I do in Seoul anyway?”

“He should be the one that’s scared of you, not the other way around”

“Why would he be scared of me?”

“Because you can literally ruin him, and his career. Who knows if you’re the first person he did this to?”

“Well, clearly nobody spoke up against him yet. He’s a legend. Nothing I say will change that, and I…really don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this. I just…want to stay away from it and pretend it never happened.”

He sighed, “I have to tell you about Karina”

“What?” You looked at him.

“She’s…a friend, I guess. A couple of months ago, I asked her if she could get me in touch with Jieong. I wanted to talk to him for you, but she said she isn’t on good terms with him. Something about the way she said it makes me think that she’s been through something similar, like you, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t just get to do that and still have a fucking platform where people worship him.”

Frustration crawled from your chest, “What am I supposed to do about that, Hyunjin?”

He squeezed the steering wheel, “I don’t know, but I’ll help you figure it out. You’ve wanted to come to the city your entire life, you even hid it from your friends, you worked every summer for it. You can’t just give that up so easily. You have to stay.”

“Stay and do what, Hyunjin?”

He turned to face you, shifting closer in the little space, and his voice was quaking with nervousness, staring right into your eyes, “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out too, but…I know you, and this isn’t you. What you did, coming here all by yourself, getting into the program, that wasn’t easy. You did something most people can only dream of, and I know I didn’t express myself well, and that I should have told you sooner but I’m… I’m so fucking proud of you. My first few years here, the only reason I could survive was the members but you…you did that all by yourself. But… you’re not alone, not anymore. If you want to report Jieong, I’m going to help you. If you don’t want to do that, I’ll respect your choice.” He swallowed to breathe, lip trembling, “If you want to stay away from that drama, I’ll understand, but please…please don’t stay away from me.”

Your eyes widened, hearing his plea, and your heart was beating so loud you feared it’d burst out of your chest. Your gaze searched his, and all you saw was honesty and…fear. 

For the first time ever, you recognized the look on his face. 

He was scared of losing you. 

He had flown all the way here just to say this to you, and despite how horrible everything seemed…he was here with you. Your heart was shaking, unable to comprehend this side of Hyunjin, and you found yourself saying, “Tell me about the Christmas lights.” 

His eyes lit up, “They… they’re beautiful. They cover the whole city with them, it looks like a dream and…you have to see it. If not for long, at least stay till then, and…you can make your decision after that.”

Your eyes flickered over his form, and the desperation in his face that made your heart beat faster than it had in a while, “Okay.”

He let out a breath like he couldn’t believe your words, “Okay?”

“The lights better be worth it, Hyunjin.” You spoke, and he laughed, at your words in slight disbelief and relief. You felt a strange sense of relief too, as he drove you back.

»»————-

Hyunjin was in your apartment again. He helped you bring the suitcases up, and he was breathing heavy as he shut the door. The snow had stopped, but the temperatures had dropped more. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. Your apartment wasn’t much warmer, but it was still a relief to be indoors, after the long night you’d had. You looked at him from across the room, standing in your little kitchen, “Do you…want tea?”

He stood out so much in this little space. He looked at you, “I can make it for us.”

“No, that’s fine…” You declined his offer, turning to your cupboard to bring out the little box of specialty tea you’d procured from a nearby market. In your peripheral, he simply nodded, looking around the living room. You’d unknowingly put as much distance between the two of you. Him being in your space made you so nervous. Earlier, you were in such a rush, but now…he could actually see things for what they were. You’d ripped your art from the walls, but other traces of you were still here. Your little tray of knick-knacks on your coffee table, the fluffy pink blanket on your couch, and the little plants that decorated the space. You hadn’t bothered packing them up, and now you were glad you hadn’t because you wouldn’t want to redecorate all over again. He stood still near the door, taking everything in. 

“You can take your coat off.” You realised belatedly. He seemed uncomfortable in it, and it was wet from the snow. He looked at you, “Right. Okay.”

You’d taken yours off, and you stood in your white sweater. He slipped his coat off, and he wore a black turtleneck inside. He seemed so awkward. You were too. You knew that things wouldn’t just go back to normal, you couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. Instead you watched the water in the pot boil, bubbles coming to the surface. 

“Have you been to Myeondong yet?” He suddenly asked. You looked at him, stirring the water, “Uh, not yet. What is it?”

“You haven’t? It’s a popular street here. They have a lot of shops, boutiques and food. They have really good street food. I think you’d like it.”

“Do you go often?” You asked, and stopped yourself from suggesting that perhaps he could take you. He replied, “No, it’s…too crowded. I can go but the company doesn’t recommend it.”

You nodded, turning back to the pot, glad you hadn’t asked only to be shut down by him. It was stupid to think otherwise, “Right. You need their permission. Do they know you’re here?”

You heard a soft sigh, and perhaps you’d offended him, “No… I know it doesn’t seem like that but we can still do whatever we want. It’s not like we’re under constant supervision…it just feels like that because they’re not the only ones watching us, we also have to worry about the media, about…anybody with a camera who might see me.”

“I saw Baekhyun at a club once.” You blurted. His eyebrows shot up, “You did?”

“Mmh. He was making out with two girls at the bar, and nobody really seemed to care” You elaborated. He nodded, “Yeah. He’s famous enough to get away with it.”

You bit back a scoff, “Get away with what…? Kissing? You make it sound like a crime, Hyunjin.” 

You were clearly more honest with him than you had been in the past, ridiculing all the crazy stupid standards of the industry he was a part of. Since when did people like him let a commercial, capitalist corporation decide how they live their lives? It irked you that Hyunjin gave into it so easily. Why didn’t he challenge it? Why was he just settling for it?

He seemed to have no response to your accusation, and instead said, “I thought you understood why things are the way they are.”

You did understand, at a point. When he kissed you for the first time, he had very kindly explained to you that he couldn’t let this become anything more. Yet it had. The phone he’d given you lay on the countertop, and you eyed it, “It seems like you really thought things through when getting me this phone. So what exactly happened…?”

“My managers found out about you.” He stated. You glanced at him, surprised how he said it so calmly when it had been his biggest fear, “What? How?”

“Yeah, they…overheard me and the boys at a party.” He said. You blinked, “You were talking about me at a party?”

“Be careful, the water’s going to boil over.” He stepped closer. You looked back at the pot, realizing this, and turned the stove off. He continued, “And yes. It was at the album release party. I called you that night”

“Oh” You recalled, and he had been drunk on the phone that night and you had wished to be next to him, “I remember…”

“So, anyway…they found out about you that night. It was my mistake…and they gave me a bunch of documents, and I don’t know I guess I kind of freaked out.” He came to stand opposite you, crossing his arms against his chest. His sweater was so tight on him and his arms bulged when he crossed them. You couldn’t help but notice.  It was tucked into his pants, a thick belt holding them up. You leaned against your kitchen counter, facing him, “What kind of documents?”

“A…press release statement, and an NDA.” He cleared his throat, “I guess they thought we were dating.”

“Oh. So is that what happened then? Why you acted the way you did?”

“Some of it. I didn’t want to involve you in any of that legal stuff, and they didn’t believe me when I said we were just friends. Things were spiraling with Chan and the others, not that it’s their fault, but I…I guess cutting you out felt like the easiest choice to make at the moment.”

You looked away from him, a pang resonating in your chest at those words, and bitterness filled you. Maybe it was a mistake calling him here. Maybe he should leave. He noticed the drop in your expression, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It was easy?” Your voice was hollow in the little apartment, heart-shattering at his admittance.

“What?”

You glanced at him, “Cutting me out was easy for you?”

He gulped, staring at you and his eyes burned through you, as his lips parted to say, “No, it was…the hardest thing I ever did.”

For some reason beyond your understanding, you believed him. Everything in you wanted to believe him. It was a genuine response.

“The tea,” You said, realizing you’d forgotten it. You wanted to ask him a lot more about how the past months had been in your absence, but you’d take it slow. This was a lot for one night. 

He stood up straighter, “Yeah.”

You turned around, reaching into your cabinet to take out two little mugs. You didn’t have much crockery, you hardly had people over much, and Hyunjin stepped up to help you. “Is everything you own pink?” He asked, taking the little mug from you.

You looked at him, embarrassed, “Just the mugs…”

“And the blanket…” He pointed out, looking at you. A little, teasing smile tugged at his lips. You fought your own smile, “Just drink the tea, okay Hyunjin?”

He nodded, smiling still, and poured the water into yours and his, levelling them the same. He dropped the tea bags in it, and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him, loving the warmth on your hands, “Oh. This is hot.”

He agreed, testing out a sip, “It’s nice. It was freezing outside”

You nodded, “You can sit, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” He shook his head and walked over to your kitchen window, bending down to peer out, “Do you keep it open always?”

“Yeah. I…like the sounds,” You told him, taking another sip, but you ended up burning your tongue, and you sighed, putting your mug away, “I heard you were in Japan. How was it?”

He had his hand out the window now, tracing the melted snowflakes that lay on the ledge, and he spoke, “Tiring, but…beautiful.”

“Kairi told me you were there for an award show?”

He turned to you again, snowflakes disintegrating in his palm, “We were”

“Did you win?”

He laughed, smiling at you, “Yeah. We won…a few. Album of the year.”

“That’s really nice.” You said, warmth blooming in your chest, “You deserved it, I’m sure.”

He laughed again, “You don’t even know who we were up against.”

“Well…” You traced a circle on the kitchen slab, “I don’t, but I heard your album. The day it came out. It was…really nice, Hyunjin.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know you listened to it.” He had a little smile as he spoke. His hair fell into his face, but some of it was tied up behind his head. Him standing with the tea in his hands, in the dim lighting of your kitchen, made him look like a dream.

Your phone buzzed, dragging both your attention to it. Felix was calling. 

“Uh, I should take this.” You told him. Hyunjin’s smile fell, giving way to another neutral expression and he just nodded, “I can head out, if you want me to.”

You looked at him. You wanted him to stay but…for what? Things were awkward, and you were so overwhelmed. Plus, it’d probably be a long call explaining to Felix that you’d actually decided to stay, and that you’d only panicked beforehand. You didn’t look forward to that conversation. Hyunjin was ready to go now though, and you wished he would stay. You wished he would once again ask you to stay. All of his passion from earlier had settled into…awkwardness, like he didn’t know what to do with himself after such a heavy confession, after begging you to stay. 

You spoke, “You haven’t finished your tea.”

He looked down at his mug, and he’d been drinking extra slow or maybe he’d poured more tea for himself just so he could stay here longer and find an excuse to talk to you, “But…Yongbok…”

Your phone kept buzzing, vibrating on the counter. You didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat, “You should talk to him, he must be worried. I… think it’s best if I go, and I should be back at the dorm before morning. I don’t want to raise any suspicion. When I took the early flight here, I told the company it was because I was sick, so…they’d be expecting me to be at home.”

Your heart deflated, and you agreed, “That makes sense.”

There was such a strange bond. You could be angry at him all you wanted, but he was the only person you could be yourself around. The only one who brought you comfort, just by his mere presence, even if he said nothing. You had no idea what the two of you were right now, but you were warming up to him again, and things could almost be okay if this continued.

“But if you want me to stay here with you tonight, I can.” He added, “I don’t…want you to feel alone, not tonight.”

But what about every other night? You would always feel alone without him. Your eyebrows shot up at his suggestion, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I…I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

He nodded, “You’re right. I should go. That’s probably the right thing to do.”

“Okay.” You swallowed. He put his mug away, unfinished tea, and then approached you, “If you…need something, my number is on that phone. You can call me, anytime. Don’t worry about disturbing me or anything.”

“Yeah. Okay”

He exhaled a breath, “I’ll see you soon, then. Goodnight.”

He was so close to you that you could smell the cologne, and you could smell him. His shampoo, or whatever it was. It smelled so good. You forced a smile at him, “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

He walked to your living room, grabbed his coat, and slipped it on. 

You stood where you were, not wanting to be that close again, not trusting yourself with what you might do and regret. He looked at you from the door, “I’m…really sorry about what happened, with…Jieong, again. You don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but…yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s…not your fault.” You told him, the constantly buzzing phone not letting you think straight. 

“I know, but…I should have been there for you. I’m sorry about that too, but…call me if you need me, please.”

Your heart was crumbling, not being able to comprehend this. After all these months of sadness, was he really in your life again? None of this felt real. It was like a dream you’d conjured up to stop yourself from being so sad, but he was here, right now in your apartment. He turned the knob, and you blurted, “Wait—”

He looked back at you immediately, eyebrows raising in hope, “Yes?”

You stepped up, eliminating the distance between you, looking up at him, “Do you really mean it?”

His eyes searched yours, “Yeah.”

“You won’t get in trouble? If I contact you? What if…your managers find out about the other phone? Will you have to block me again?”

Hyunjin stared at you, and there was a determination in his eyes that you’d never seen, and a confidence, “They won’t find out.”

“If they do?”

He swallowed, gaze falling to your mouth briefly, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Oh.”

Your phone kept buzzing. He spoke, “You should really take that call. He would be worried.”

“You’re right.”

He glanced at you one last time, before leaving. 

You picked up your phone, voice shaky. You told Yongbok you’d decided to stay and when he asked you why, you didn’t know what to say. All your reasoning had blended into a mush of emotions and longing. Hyunjin must have said something really convincing back in the car, but you couldn’t remember what any of it was. You just knew that it had worked. You talked to him for the rest of the night. It was chilly and you should have gotten into bed, but you lingered in the kitchen for hours. It still smelt like him.

»»————-

You were woken up by a ringtone you didn’t recognise. Sitting up in bed, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. This had been happening for the past week. Each morning was compounded by sadness. As soon as you were conscious, you’d remember what happened with Jieong. Today, disorientation overtook the sadness. 

A phone was ringing. 

The ringtone…was a stupid silly love song that you were obsessed with back in Daejon. You reached for your laptop, pausing a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. You must have fallen asleep watching it, and you couldn’t comprehend what episode you were on now, having missed most of it in your asleep. Grabbing the blanket around your shoulders, you trudged to your living room, and sure enough, your new phone was buzzing. There was only one person who had this number. It was still baffling how Hyunjin bought you a flip fucking phone just so you could talk to him.

hyunjin hey, i just wanted to make sure it was working so i guess this is a test message you yea. its working. hyunjin oh im sorry. did i wake you up? you yup  hyunjin sorry…i hope you got enough rest. how did yongbok take it? you he was disappointed. he really wanted me to come home.

hyunjin i can imagine. did he ask why you changed your mind? you why? you want me to tell him that it was because of you? hyunjin it was? you i don’t know hyunjin. im still trying to figure it out. im kind of all over the place. hyunjin i understand

You stared at his texts, and this must have been the millionth time he had said sorry, but did he even know what he was sorry for? So much had happened in his absence, and it seemed like he had no idea what his loss had meant to you. Every conversation still felt like walking on eggshells, you didn’t know what he wanted from you now. Did he still have feelings for you? The night in the Atelier, he had said everything to get you to stay, yet nothing at the same time. All of his words were so carefully constructed for you, and you wish he’d been clear about what he wanted. Your heart was so fucking torn and confused. A part of you was still pushing Hyunjin away, and perhaps your anger was still lingering. But oh, you missed him so much.

He wanted you to see Christmas. You found yourself searching through search engines for pictures of Seoul during that festive time, and it sure looked beautiful and pretty, but it didn’t seem like a big enough deal. He must really love Christmas or something. You glanced over at your suitcases that lay at the edge of your bed, second-guessing everything when your phone began ringing, and you didn’t have the heart to ignore him. You crawled over to where it lay on the nightstand, and put the phone to your ear, listening quietly.

“Hey.” He spoke, a relief in his tone, “You picked up.”

You lied back down, pulling your covers over yourself, “I did.”

“What are you doing right now?” He asked. You stared at your ceiling, “I was watching a show…” You hadn’t been the most responsive tonight or this past few days. You were having trouble figuring out what this new relationship between you and Hyunjin meant. “You…haven’t unpacked?” He asked. You shrugged, “No. I’d prefer having it ready to go if I change my mind.”

There was a pause on the other end, “Right. Well, if you do plan on leaving, I hope you don’t do it in the middle of the night again. It’s not very practical.”

He was joking about it, but for some reason it made you smile, “Yup. I’ll be sure to wait until dawn next time.”

“Back when I was at the academy, I always had my suitcase packed up under my dorm bed, and I hid it there, just in case I needed to leave one night.”

“Why would you need to leave?” You frowned. He chuckled, harshly, “Um, training was hard. I almost quit…a lot of times.”

“Why was it hidden?” You sat up. It felt weird that you’d known him all this time but never known this. He laughed, “I was too nervous to admit I was scared. If I thought of quitting, it would make the other trainees think I was weak. I couldn’t let them see that. That’s the fastest way to be targeted.”

You heart hurt at the thought of a younger Hyunjin being scared, “You never told me that…”

“Yeah, it’s…something I don’t really like to talk about.”

“I’m sorry for making you think about it.” You bit your lip, feeling guilty for reminding you of a worse time. His tone was light to reassure you, “It’s not your fault. I guess seeing you the other night reminded me…of me.”

“Yeah. Why are you up at this time though?” You glanced at your bedside clock. He spoke, “I’m waiting for the guys to get home. They’re coming back from Bangkok tonight, and they have a late flight. I hope you’ve been getting enough sleep though.”

It was a strange feeling, knowing you and him were in the same city, unable to fall asleep. This was a first. You wish you could call him over, and maybe you could help each other fall asleep. Holding him would definitely help all your worries, and you could imagine how warm his body would be to cuddle. Would he even fit in your bed and on your cheap mattress, or would you have to be on top of each other? The thought made your heart squeeze. You were so tired of holding back all these thoughts, you wanted to be able to say them out loud. There was no point keeping these feelings to yourself, but for now, it didn’t seem appropriate for this new friendship you two were discovering. You swallowed your desires, saying, “I have to go to the Atelier this week to withdraw my application.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“What?” Yes. Yes. You wanted him with you all the time.

“I just thought that you might feel anxious, and…I can wait for you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll take you home.”

It was funny how he always knew the right thing to say, pushing all the right buttons that made your dopamine go batshit insane. It was funny that he was perfect for you, yet you still weren’t together.

“But you can’t even be seen in public with me.” You responded, and you hated thinking with your head and not your heart. He was quick to offer a solution, “I’ll…be in my car. It’ll be fine. Nobody will know I’m there.”

You chewed on your lip, considering your options, “You don’t have to go through all of that effort. It just sounds like an inconvenience for you to be there.”

There was silence on the other end, and Hyunjin spoke, “I don’t want you to be around Kim Jieong by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.” The idea of Hyunjin accompanying you sounded tempting, but you couldn’t take responsibility for something like that. You’d caused him enough trouble in his life as is.

»»————-

Later that week, the receptionist of the Atelier was staring at you, a disapproving look on her face, “Are you sure? Once you input this request, you can’t change your mind.”  

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…positive” You spoke, hands flat on the front desk. She frowned, “You’re… positive that you want to withdraw your admission?”

The words sent a pang through your chest, a cruel reminder to your predicament, but you nodded, “Yeah.”

A familiar, comforting voice suddenly rang through the lobby, and you turned to see Jeonghan run up to you, a huge portfolio bag in hand. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so relaxed in his bucket hat and an oversized mint-green cardigan, with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” …Right. He thought you were sick. He thought that’s the reason you hadn’t shown up to any classes. You smiled up at him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, “Yeah. Can you just give me a second? I’ll finish up here.”

“Sure. I'm just waiting for my friend anyway.” He nodded, slinging an arm around you, pulling you close. The receptionist blinked at you, unfazed by Jeonghan’s affectionate arrival, “And you’ve spoke to Mr. Jieong about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure he knows” You spoke, “Spoken to him about what?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you. You bit your lip, glancing up at him, “I… it’s not important”

He frowned, a sassy look on his face, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“I can’t withdraw your admission unless you get your professor's signature" The receptionist said, handing you back your documents.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeonghan laughed. You sighed, stepping away from the front desk and he tagged along, “I’m fucking tripping, right? Or did she just say you’re withdrawing your admission?”

You shrugged, staring at the documents in your hand, “I don’t know, I can’t afford it anymore. I have to talk to Jieong. Do you know where he is?”

“Probably in his office.” He said, “But are you not going to explain what’s going on?”

“I can’t get into it right now. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be by myself.” You asked. He spoke without hesitation, “Of course I’ll come with you.”

You felt a different kind of terror and disappointment when you entered Jieong’s office. Jeonghan was right next to you, holding your hand and he didn’t even know what was happening but you were glad to have his support. Kim Jieong was hunched over his desk, looking through what seemed like portfolios, until he noticed the two of you walk in. He smiled brightly at you as if nothing had ever happened, “What brings the two of you in?”

You stared at him, figuring out what you could possibly say. Jeonghan’s hand was on the small of your back, and he squeezed you lightly as if encouraging you, and he said, “Just accompanying a friend.”

You looked at Jieong, and the way he sat like a king in his chair, and spoke, “I…needed your signature on something.”

“Nate. Do you mind if I speak to Y/N alone?” He asked, sending him a sweet smile. Jeonghan nodded, “Sure, of course.”

You could say nothing as he left you two alone. Jieong took off his glasses, staring at you, “This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“I can’t do the classes anymore” You told him. His eyebrows shot up, “After everything you did to get in, you’re giving up like that? I know it’s hard, but don’t be so temperamental.”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll…still paint” You mumbled. He tilt his head, “For yourself? Where is that going to get you? I just think you’re making a big mistake.”

You swallowed, “So what, I come just back to classes and pretend nothing happened?”

“Well, what did happen, Y/N?” He chuckled, “I came to check in on you. As a concerned adult, I am responsible for my student, and you just ran away. And then you decided to skip classes for some reason. Now you’ve lost the chance for the scholarship, but you can still continue in the program.”

You stared at him, not even realising that of course he’d deny everything. You wondered if you should address it, but maybe now was the only time you could. “You…you said I should convince you.”

He leaned forward on his desk, “By making your greatest painting yet, of course. How…else? You are an artist at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Can you please just sign my document so I can leave?” You spoke, more venom in your tone than you intended. He was pretending it didn’t happen. He frowned, clicking at his pen, “You’ve already paid for the next few months classes. You’re just going to let that go to waste?”

Were you making a big mistake? You were acting too much on emotion. Yet you couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him again, and feeling comfortable. He had ruined this for you.

“You used to be my favourite artist...” You said, almost accusatory. He stood up, the sound of his chair dragging against the wood was loud, “Used to be? Does someone else have your heart now?”

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, Hyunjin must be calling you, and Jieong stepped around his table, walking closer to you. You hated this. You hated looking at him, and feeling this fear and anxiety when you should only feel admiration. “Please. I just need your signature and I’ll be gone. I haven’t said anything to anybody and I’m probably moving back home anyway, so please just do this for me.”

He crossed his arms, talking so nonchalantly as if this were a casual conversation, “No. If I let you withdraw, that’d be wasting your talent and potential.”

“So you want me to stay in the program?”

“That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.” He laughed, “You’re one of my most talented.”

Your head was beginning to hurt, “Then why did you cancel my scholarship…and why are you being like this?”

“I’m not being like anything. I’m just asking you to consider staying in the program. I don't know why you're so insistent on running away.” He stepped closer, and a month ago, his tone would could comforted you but not anymore. You made sure you were near the door so you could leave if you needed to, and you tried to find the least offensive way to say what you felt, “What do you mean? You made me uncomfortable the other night.”

“What did I do? Am I not allowed to check up on my students anymore?” He was acting clueless, and it pissed you off.. You felt insane like you were speaking to a child who couldn’t comprehend anything, “I don’t know…you tried to grab me.”

“No offence, Y/N, but you’re not exactly my type. In case you forgot, I’m a married man.” He held up his hand, showing you his wedding band, “If anything, you’re the one who’s been coming on to me.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem like he believed you, and you didn’t have to justify yourself anyway. You felt frustrated by the way he was addressing this situation, making you feel crazy. “I’ve …never come on to you. That’s…insane. I have a boyfriend. I would be crazy to do that, not to mention how…inappropriate that is. Do you think I’d risk my—”

“You have a boyfriend? What you told me the other night was different.” He tilt his head. You were only going in circles and not going anywhere, as you said, “I try to keep my professional and personal life separate.”

“What’s his name?” He asked, clicking the pen in his hand, the noise driving you mad. You almost ended up saying Hyunjin’s name, until you realised you obviously couldn’t fucking do that. Hyunjin couldn’t be the convenience in this case, you don’t know what Jieong could do with that information, especially if he found out who Hyunjin really was. You swallowed, “Nate. Obviously.”

Jieong’s expression shifted, “I see.”

You weren’t sure if he believed you or not, but you wouldn’t stick around to find out, “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I just need you to give me my documents, so I can leave.”

“I’ll think about it.” He spoke. Your eyes widened, “What?”

“You can come collect them later, in case I change my mind.” He said, returning to his desk and sat down nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to start an argument or make him mad. This was pointless. You left his office, feeling worse than before, informing the receptionist that you couldn’t even fucking resign right now. Everything felt harder than it should be. A hurdle for everything. Getting into this program had been impossible, and it seemed like getting out of it was just as tough. 

The phone in your bag kept buzzing, and you stepped into the bathroom, picking up his call, “What?”

“Y/N…” Hyunjin seemed surprised at your tone, “I…was trying to reach you. What happened?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, “Nothing. I’ve had a bad day. Why were you calling me so much?”

“I was going to come to the Academy. Are you still there?”

“You’re what?” Your voice shot up. His voice was calm on the other end, “I can’t let you speak to Jieong alone.”

“Where are you right now? You can’t come. They keep a record of every visitor and… you can in trouble with your company for being here. And I already talked to him so there isn’t any point.” You spoke. It was also frustrating how you wanted Hyunjin to be there for you, but you had to think of his life and his job always first, before yourself. It had always been the case though. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “You were alone with him? Where are you right now?”

“Nate was with me.” You said, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you looked like shit, in a hoodie you had worn for three days straight, “He’s…waiting for me outside.”

“I see…” Hyunjin responded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

You sighed, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Hyunjin. I’m fine. Jieong was absolutely useless though. He didn’t even let me withdraw! He was…being cryptic, and frustrating. I had to tell him Nate’s my boyfriend just to get him off my back.”

Hyunjin’s response was dry, “Oh. Okay.”

“I mean… I was lying.” You were stupidly justifying yourself, and he mumbled, “Yeah. Makes sense…I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but you since I woke up, so I just thought it’d be better if I came over there.”

“You don’t have to leave work for me, Hyunjin." You suddenly felt guilty, "I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I just haven’t been in the best state of mind.”

“I just…want you to know that I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day.”

“Don’t worry about it, it's not your fault or anything.” You mumbled. He said, “I’ve been thinking and…I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll take your mind off things.”

The request excited you, but coming from Hyunjin’s mouth, you couldn’t really believe it, “Somewhere in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“But is that allowed? For you to be seen with me in public?” It was the only question you had. You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. It came out harsher than intended. Allowed as if Hyunjin was a child who needed permission to do anything he desired. He was quiet, and you feared you’d crossed the line, but then he suddenly said, “I…asked my manager for permission.”

At those words, your eyes widened. That was certainly something you hadn’t expected. “And what did you say?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, “I may have lied and told him my cousin was visiting from America and that it was my… responsibility to show them around the city. He obviously can’t stop me from hanging out with family, even if it’s in a crowded place.”

“So…I have to pretend to be your cousin?”

He laughed, “No. God, no. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. You can…be yourself. It’s just gonna be me and you.”

“Really?” You didn’t know what this was. Hyunjin was…definitely opening up to you in a way he hadn’t in months. You had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was only being friendly to make up for his behavior.

“Yeah. Is that okay with you? If it’s just…us?”

Just you and him. You’d craved for him this whole time. He seemed nervous since you hadn’t answered, “Y/N?”

“I’m here,” You said. He must have expected that you hung up. “Oh,” He replied, his tone relieved at hearing your voice. 

“So where did you want to take me?”

“You said that you haven’t been to Myeon-dong, and… that’s a crime. I was hoping to show you around.” He added, “But I… don’t know. I would understand if you were still pissed about… what I did, and if you don’t want to go.”

“I’m not pissed…” You thought about his words, “I’m just kind of confused, Hyunjin.”

“About me?”

“No, actually, let’s not discuss this over the phone…things get misinterpreted and… I’m really tired right now,” You mumbled. Hyunjin suddenly wanted to hang out with you again and this was a lot to unpack and shouldn’t be done now. He agreed, “You’re right. I'm sorry again that I couldn’t see you. I really didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that alone. Because I’m here, for you. I know I haven’t been but…yeah.”

When he said stuff like that, your stomach twisted. You’d been trying to maintain a line between you and him, a boundary based on all of the recent events, yet it felt futile. Your voice dropped, “Yeah, thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded, and a part of you already felt lighter at this proposition, “See you then, Hyunjin.”

You stepped out, making your way to the entrance and Nate spotted you. He ran up to you, pulling you into a half-hug, “How’d it go with Jieong? I can’t believe he kicked me out of his office.”

You shrugged, squinting under the sun, “I may have told him you were my boyfriend…”

He laughed, a smirk on his face, “What? Is that your way of asking me out?”

It was kind of nice that he had no idea what was going on. You could still pretend that things were normal. You felt embarrassed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “Jeonghan…no.”

“I know. I know. I’m kidding” He smiled, then took off his bucket hat, placing it on your head to protect you from the sun, “You need to get yourself a pair of sunglasses.”

“Thanks” You smiled. It was nice to be distracted from your disastrous exchange with Jieong. He looked around at all of the art students walking to classes, then back to you, “So are you coming back to class on Monday? You know it sucks without you, right?”

“Really? I take it you guys miss me a lot then.” You smiled. He rolled his eyes, “Of course I do. Honestly, you were my favorite thing about it, especially this last semester. Jieong’s got a stick up his ass for some reason. Anyway, me and Minnie miss you. Well, me more than her. I don’t have anybody to teach me your crazy ass techniques anymore. I mean, you’re the only one who can make me get my hands willingly dirty and paint with them.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “They weren’t crazy. I thought you enjoyed painting with your hands. You’re a dick.”

He grinned, tapping your hat, “Only for you.”

You then noticed the black and gold bags at his feet, “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Unfortunately, nothing for you.” He sighed. “I was shopping for a tuxedo. Actually, now that you're here, I did have a crazy favor to ask you.”

You looked up at him, in anticipation, “Yeah? What’s the favour?”

“My sister, she lives in Busan, I told you, right? Well anyway, she’s getting married next Saturday, which is crazy in itself but…long story short, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m surviving that alone.”

“You want me to be your plus-one?” You asked. He shrugged, “I mean, you already told Jieong you’re my girlfriend…so it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances does it?”

“I mean, I have to think about it. Do I have to dress up fancy and all?” You asked. He nodded, “Yeah, a formal dress preferably, but if anyone can pull that off, it would be you. You being by my side would actually make it bearable. Will you think about it and let me know? If you absolutely can’t go, that’s okay, I’ll take Minnie along, but… I’d…really prefer if it was you. After all, I can’t make out with Minnie when I’m drunk.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s almost like you’re trying to convince me not to go.”

He smiled, “Please let me know about it. I gotta go meet my friend now. I’ll hopefully see you next Saturday?”

Maybe going to a fancy wedding would take your mind off things, and you smiled as he kissed your cheek goodbye, “No promises.”

»»————-

This was the Seoul you’d seen in the movies. It’s as if you’d stepped into a full spread of a magazine that you’d fawn over in your school library as you stared at Myeon-dong street. A seemingly endless alley of shops, food, and anything a person could want for. It was the afternoon, and it seemed to be the busiest time as throngs of people filtered in and out through the streets. Your gaze fell upon families, couples, and teenagers filling the streets still in their school uniforms.

There was a newspaper stand set up next to you, selling magazines and papers of all kinds, it even had some pop merchandise, random objects with pictures of idols on them, ranging from socks to mugs to paper fans. It was bizarre. The lady at the shop smiled at you, “Looking for something in particular?”

“Um, no, I was just looking.” You shook your head. She was dressed really well, and she smiled at you, “What’s your favorite group, sweetie?”

Your eyes meandered over the merchandise, and for a moment you considered saying the name of Hyunjin’s band but quickly decided against it, “Uh, I don’t listen to…” Just then, a teenage girl and her friend came behind you, filming a vlog of some kind, and the lady asked them the same question, her attention switching in a millisecond away from you, “Looking for something?”

To your surprise, the girl enthusiastically nodded, “Yes, please! Could we get a Hwang Hyunjin and Changbin necklace?”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped away from the stall to hide your reaction. You could see the lady reach into her supplies, pulling out several decorative items, along with t-shirts and necklaces. Hyunjin was on half of them, and a strange sense of pride and wonder filled you. That must be so fucking weird for him, but you suppose it also must be satisfying to be this famous. The teenage girl immediately reached for the Hyunjin necklace, a pendant with his name carved out in silver, and it was actually pretty, and not tacky, and a part of you wanted to get one for yourself but he’d think you were crazy if you did. She immediately put it around her neck, a big smile on her face. You stepped away, a strange jealousy building in your stomach.

It was almost the time he said he’d meet you here, so you walked to the junction, hands pushed into your deep coat pockets, looking around for the familiar face.

In the midst of the crowd, he was waiting for you.

He stood tall in a suede trench coat, a turtleneck, and a bag slung around him. He wore a black mask, obscuring his face from the onlookers, but people were still looking at him. Of course they were. He didn’t need to show his face to be the most beautiful man in the room.

He was looking around too, and you waited for him to notice you. Would you stand out to him too, like he did to you? Could he pick you out of a crowd of hundreds?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, wondering if he would call and ask where you were. But then he noticed you. Even in this distance, you saw his eyes light up in recognition, and immediately, he stepped ahead, pushing through the moving crowd to get to you. You waited where you were, as he got closer and closer. Your heart pound to a different beat now. You had no idea what today would be about or what any of this meant to him, and one of the reasons you’d agreed to meet was to find out. He finally approached you, and his eyes crinkled as you imagined the hidden smile under his mask, “You’re here…”

You nodded, looking up at him, “Have you been waiting long?”

He shook his head, voice muffled, “No, don’t worry about it.”

You wish you could see him without the mask, but too many people here could recognise him. “There’s a couple of places I wanna show you.” He said, gesturing you to move. You walked next to him, and the tight space pushed you two together, arms brushing mistakenly. You looked around, “There’s a lot of people here”

“Mmh. It’s one of the busiest times of the day.”

“Why did you pick this time then?” You glanced up at him. He looked at you, “Well…Right now, we can just blend into the crowd. If there’s less people, we’re more likely to be noticed, and draw attention.”

So he had thought of that, and he was right. You weren’t really looking at other people because there were just far too many to keep track of, so they likely wouldn’t be looking at you too. To them, you just seemed like a normal couple on a day out. Your arms brushed against each other the whole time, and his hand hovered over your back. You kept sneaking glances at him, and it was harder because you were moving so fast, and he was taller and there was only so much of him you could see. Every time there was a change in the crowd, he’d quickly switch sides, grabbing your arm to keep you close. When you looked at him, his eyes crinkled as he tried to justify, “Just making sure I don’t lose you.”

The words sent a flutter through you, and you asked him, trying to be heard over the cacophony of sounds, “Did you know shops here sell merchandise with you?”

He looked back at you, distracted. He was seemingly too focused on finding his way through the crowd, “Um, yes, I’ve seen a few. Wait… this place has the best fried chicken, you need to try it. If we come later in the evening, there will be a really long wait for it. Changbin once made me wait two hours for it.”

“Oh, wow. Was it worth it?” You asked, stopping at what looked like an inconspicuous stall. He laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I’d do anything for Changbin, so I definitely wasn’t complaining. Anyway, the last time I was here, I could’t help but wonder what you’d think of it.” He then ordered a plate for the two of you, and you watched the vendor prepare it. It already smelled amazing, and you eagerly waited, hands in your pockets, “So do you come here with the guys often?”

He shook his head, “No, we haven’t gone out in a while. We’ve been so busy with promotions….and the album, haven’t really found time to relax.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds stressful. Do you not get any vacations?”

The vendor had finished preparing the chicken and was now seasoning it, sprinkling all kinds of spices over it. Hyunjin shrugged, “I think I used up my lifetime of vacations in Daejon.”

“Right.” You recalled all of his months there, “I hope you still got paid for it.”

He shook his head, face buried in the front of his coat, “It was still worth it though. I got to meet you.”

You blinked, wondering how and why he said such soul-changing stuff so casually. Like at a fucking chicken stall on the sidewalk. How did these things come so easily to him, but love so difficulty? You shrugged, “Right. I guess that’s why you didn’t need me anymore when you came back home.”

It was a joke, obviously, but Hyunjin’s eyebrows crinkled, “Y/N…”

“Oh, look, our food is ready.” You changed the topic, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing it up, and not wanting this to be awkward. He didn’t protest at your lack of subtlety, “Yeah. Come on, we can go into this alley so we’re not in everyone’s way.”

You followed him into a nearby alleyway. It was less crowded, so Hyunjin seemed more at ease at not being recognized yet you could see he was still a bit on edge as he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with any passerby. He leaned against a brick wall, and you stood opposite him, savoring some of the chicken. He asked you, “You like it?”

To be honest, you couldn’t even process what you were eating. It was kind of hard to focus on other things when he was here, and this could have been the best chicken in the world but your internal monologue ran on a loop of Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. It was annoying, and you wish you could focus on the environment you were in, on the other people around you, on the street food. But you nodded, your crazy urge to be a people-pleaser and said, “Yeah, this is so fucking good. Are you gonna have some?” 

He shook his head, laughing, “I’m good. I’m just glad you like it.” You hummed, “Thank you for making me try it…”

You hated that the mask obscured his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you anxious. He didn’t say anything for a while as you ate, like he was building up the courage to ask, until he finally did say, “So…how are you feeling, really? And please…don’t just say you’re fine. I want to know how you’re really doing. And how you’ve been the past few months. I’ve been wondering that for a while.”

Your eyes searched his, and that certainly didn’t seem like street side conversation but it was all you had, “That’s a pretty loaded question, Hyunjin, but I guess it’s good to be out of my apartment. Thanks for bringing me out here. I was kind of getting sick of my routine.”

He nodded, “I can imagine. You hate routines.”

You laughed, surprised that he knew that about you even though at this point, he probably knew you better than any human in the world, “Yeah.”

“Did you tell Nate that you’re thinking of withdrawing? I hope he convinced you to not do that.” He asked, hope in his tone. You shook your head, “No, he was in a really good mood, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“He seems like a really good friend, and I know I didn’t really have the chance to talk to him, but he seems cool.”

“Yeah. He definitely helped. Seeing him had definitely put me at ease.” You reached for another piece of fried chicken, “When I was about to go back home, he didn’t really even cross my mind…but I realized, yeah, it would have been unfair to him if I just left without a word. I would definitely miss him. He was…such a big part of my last few months. I wouldn’t have adjusted to living in the city without him.”

Hyunjin was quiet, and then he spoke, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” You laughed, feeling embarrassed at the memory, but Hyunjin was the one who wanted to know all about your life the past few months, “I was so lost when I moved here. Everything seemed so…scary, but he made it easier for me.” Hyunjin was still staring at you so you elaborated, finding the need to explain, “He…made me meet his friends, he took me out to some really cool bars, and going to class was scary but he’s probably the reason I didn’t go back home sooner… now that I think of it.”

“Oh.” He pushed off the wall, choosing to walk along the alley, and you followed him, trying to keep up with his footsteps. Little hair salons and souvenir shops surrounded you. As you walked, you observed how your feet fit in the cobblestones just so you wouldn’t feel so nervous around him as you replayed the last few months in your head, “Yeah. Wow, I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until you asked. I mean…he had no reason to be so nice to me, especially because…this is embarrassing to talk about—”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, looking at you. It felt weird to think of all those months, but you were only talking about this because he asked. You’d been crying almost every day, because of…well, him. Everything had seemed so hopeless without him in your life, and now…you had bigger problems. Such as your dreams of a lifetime being absolutely fucked and burnt into the dust. So perhaps you had made your peace with what Hyunjin had done. Nothing could have made him change his mind, and there was…no point crying about it. 

You snapped back to reality, realising he was waiting for you to answer and you wonder how honest you should be. Something about how detached he’d been the past few months made it easier for you to open up, “It’s embarrassing because I was really all over the place. I was kind of…depressed? I don’t even know, but…Nate didn’t mind. He was so nice about it.” You then laughed, suddenly remembering the blind date Minnie had set you up on, “Oh, and I had this horrible fucking date, man it was so bad. Some people can be such assholes.”

“You were…depressed?”

You looked up at him, realizing how serious that could sound, “Um, I mean…that’s a big word…I guess.”

“Why…?” He looked at you, confused, eyebrows knitted together in sadness, “You weren’t happy about the apprenticeship?”

The happiness of that could never have compared to the sadness of losing him. You’d really dug yourself into a hole. You wondered how to say this without making it all about him. How could you tell him that he was your favourite thing in the world? You swallowed, “Uh…I…I was kind of lonely, I guess.”

Hyunjin stared at you, something flashing through his eyes, and it looked like…regret, or guilt. You immediately felt bad, gut sinking. He looked away from you, and cleared his throat, blinking, “So…you had a date? With Nate?”

“No, this other guy,” You explained, “A date with Nate would have been a million times better, but no, it was with this total ass. He…just wanted to get into my pants, I guess, and on top of that he also had horrible taste in beer. Nate did rescue me from it.”

“So…then what happened between you and him? At the party, you were…” He trailed off, staring at the ground as he walked, “You guys looked close.”

“I don’t know. We were just…fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. He kissed me, and I guess that’s how it started.” 

Hyunjin glanced at you, “He kissed you?”

Why did it even matter right now? You clarified, “Technically, I kissed him…after my terrible date. And he returned it. Then, I guess we just…were casual friends who kissed.”

“Oh…Okay” 

“Yeah. You missed a huge chunk of my life.” You chuckled, and you’d finished all the chicken, so he threw the plate away in a trashcan. He then asked, “So…what else did you do in the city ever since you’ve been here?”

“I…uh…not much.” 

“What were your favourite moments?” He asked, “You must have had some good ones, right?”

You drifted off, trying to remember the times you’d been happy, and it was weird how you couldn’t think of many, “Well, when I got accepted. I was the happiest then. Then…when Jieong told me that I was talented, and when my paintings got complimented on in class. I was happy when I discovered a thrift store near my house, and…they had the cutest skirt in my size. It looked really cute on me.”

Hyunjin must be smiling, because you could see his eyes crinkle over the mask, “And?” 

“And…I was happy when I was with Kairi. We found this cute cafe we would go to. They had these really, really good sandwiches. I was happy when…” You stopped.

“When?”

You looked up at him, pushing your hands in your pockets, “When…I saw you, in the storage closet.”

He was quiet, processing your words, and then he said, “We’re almost here. Come on.”

You thought you’d just been walking aimlessly, but it seemed like Hyunjin had a destination in mind this whole time. There was a brick building hidden between K-marts and department shops. It looked abandoned. “Can we even go in?” You asked. He laughed, “Of course.” There was an incognito entrance, hidden from the public as you stepped in through the doors, “Are you sure? It feels like we’ll get murdered in there, Hyunjin.”

He glanced at you, “That’s a funny way of saying you don’t trust me.” 

You shrugged, playing along because it felt nice to pretend that things were normal again, “So, if there was a serial killer in there, you would fight him for me?”

He let out another laugh, looking at you, “I obviously would, and no there isn’t anybody in there, but maybe I should be asking if you would do that for me?”

“Nah, I think I’d sacrifice you so I could get away.” You smiled at him, and he laughed as you entered a fancy corridor. There was a huge map on the wall with different levels marked on it, and far too much detail than you’d expect. You still had no idea where you were. You tried to read it but Hyunjin walked ahead, and you caught up to him asking, “So…where are we?”

“It’s this…really cool concept store, for mainly streetwear. It’s one of a kind, all their clothes are inspired from the 90s and the coolest part is nobody really knows who the designer is. People speculate and such, but it’s anonymous and because their identity is hidden from the world, they can pretty much get away with anything, controversial designs and stuff. Ever since my stylist told me about, I knew I had to bring you here. It’s like…if Banksy made fashion, you know?”

The thoughtfulness of that didn’t miss you. He’d been thinking of you for a while, it seemed, and it looked like he was right. The first room you stepped in was already breathtaking. Cool technology surrounded the open floor plan, a suspended spaceship hung from the center, and clothes of vivid colors were displayed on racks amongst art installations and paintings. It seemed more like a museum than a fashion store. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” You spoke, taking in all the futuristic displays,  “How much are these clothes even worth?”

Hyunjin laughed, “Just the same as any other high-fashion store.”

“So… insanely expensive,” You mumbled, running your hand through the variety of jackets hung up. They were the coolest designs you’d seen, and the precision that must have gone into designing them was obvious. Each had something that made it unique: different fabric patches, pockets of uncanny shapes, and neon colors that you couldn’t imagine pulling off. But in Seoul, there was an outfit for everybody, and these definitely weren’t for you. Each of them felt expensive to the touch, and you probably shouldn’t be touching them like so. 

“I wore something like this for a stage performance last month, and I was so stressed about ruining the sequins the entire time. Do you like any?” Hyunjin asked you, browsing through them too. You laughed, “Um yes, I love them, but I shouldn’t.”

“This one is really cool,” He spoke, eyeing a purple jacket, with lavendar fur on the neckline and sleeve loops. It looked like something aristocrats or royals would wear in Buckingham palace or something, so you laughed when Hyunjin asked, “Do you want to try it on?”

“If I get a speck of dirt on it, would I have to sell my soul?” You raised an eyebrow. Hyunjin scoffed, “You’re allowed to try them on. Come on. There’s a mirror somewhere here.” He grabbed the jacket off the shelf so casually, walking through the maze of displays until you reached a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. He held the jacket up to you, and you couldn’t take this seriously, “That is so not me. It would look good on like Gigi Hadid or something.”

He rolled his eyes, “Just try it on.”

“Sure. I’ll humour you this once, but after this, I get to pick something ridiculous for you to wear.” You took off your winter coat. Hyunjin grabbed it for you, and you slipped on the purple jacket. Immediately, it felt like you were wearing millions of dollars, rich and thick fabric. It hugged your body perfectly. You turned to the mirror, running your hands over the fur, it was so soft. Wearing this would definitely make anybody feel confident.

Hyunjin hadn't said anything yet. Your eyes darted to his, and he was staring at your reflection. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, but you couldn’t see the rest of his face and that bothered you. You held your arms up, turning to the side to observe it, “It’s like a work of art.”

“Yeah. You make it look like one.” Hyunjin spoke. You glanced at him, feeling shy suddenly. He was so observant, so fixated on you.

“Well. Anyway. It’s my turn.” You walked to another section of the store. Hyunjin followed you through all the abstract installations. There must be a narrative behind it, but you were just happy appreciating the visuals. Silver water fountains, clothing displays that moved on their own... everything about this place screamed future. It was inspiring just to be in here. Hyunjin was sifting through a rack of streetwear. A sunglasses case rest next to it, and you stared at them, grabbing a design off the rack.

“You should try this,” You told him, offering him the glasses. His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Really? You don’t think they’re tacky? The gold borders?”

“I think they’d look good on you” You mumbled, but kept them back based on his reaction, “But fine, you don’t have to try them if you don’t want to—” 

“I’ll try them, Jesus” He interrupted you with a laugh and put them on. There were mirrors everywhere and he looked at himself. You wonder if he fell in love with himself too each time he saw his reflection. He pushed his hair back, a smirk playing at his lips, “Huh. I actually kind of like that. Makes me feel like a rockstar.”

He sparkled under the store lights. You’d only wanted him to wear it as a joke, but he actually made them look so good. He looked expensive, and... so out of your league. He was absolutely beautiful, and you mumbled, “You are kind of a rockstar. You should get them.” 

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as if it was even a question. Those glasses seemed to be made for his perfect face. He pulled them off, observing the frame, “You think?”

You just nodded, not trusting what you might blurt. Probably something embarrassing along the lines of how hot he made them look, even though they were just fucking glasses, but him in them was doing something unnatural to your body.

“I can’t remember the last time I bought something for myself” He stated, pushing the glasses up over his head. You leaned against the mirror, looking up at him, “Is it because you always have to wear sponsorships and stuff?”

He nodded, “Yeah. It’s easier in a way because I don’t have to pick out much of my clothes.”

“That’s such a first-world, rich person problem, Hyunjin. I can’t believe you just said that.” You rolled your eyes. He laughed, “Hey, I’m just being honest with you, sorry.”

“You’re pretty lucky. I wish someone would buy my clothes for me” You sighed, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stylist, and a make-up artist, and a personal shopper and a manager—”

“Stop” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting you, “I think what you pick out for yourself is pretty fantastic.”

“Yeah, I know it is.” You smiled, “So, is there any other cool stuff in this store?”

He nodded, stepping back from the mirror, and his hand fell to your lower back again as he guided you, “Yup. There’s a cafe. That’s where I was initially going to take you until you got distracted by all the jackets.”

The cafe was a beautiful rooftop establishment, looking out at the views of Seoul. You had to hold back your gasp when you walked in. There were hardly any people in, just a few men that looked like CEOs seated at far tables. Your eyes fell to the menu that hung over the counter, where every bakery item was easily more than 30,000 won. Everything was so expensive, and probably explained why this place wasn’t buzzing with people. Not everyone could afford this taste. “You should try the Pain au Chocolat. It’s one of the best in the city.” Hyunjin nudged you. You looked at him, “That statement indicates that you’ve somehow tried all the chocolate croissants in the city.”

He laughed, “Not nearly. I come here with Changbin and Jisung often though. A few weeks ago, I tried it and I just…kept imagining how much you’d like it.” 

You looked back at the menu, feeling giddy at the thought of being on his mind so often, in your absence. You stepped up to the counter, ordering two coffees and croissants. You’d come all this way after all.

“Hey, I got this.” Hyunjin said, stopping you before you could pay. But if he paid for your coffee, it would increasingly make this feel more like a date, which this wasn’t. You couldn’t make yourself feel delusional by thinking it was. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismissed him, handing your card to the cashier. He frowned, clearly not happy with the outcome, but you wouldn’t let him buy it for you. The cashier also seemed expensively dressed, with good taste, and she input your order and then said, “Unfortunately ma’am, you can’t wear the store merchandise around.”

You realised you were still wearing the lavendar fur jacket, loving the feel of it on you just like Hyunjin had loved it on you. Gosh, you wish you could never take it off just to see the look in his eyes again. Except you weren’t just playing dress-up. This was probably worth hundreds of thousands. You felt so embarrassed, and you immediately reached to unbutton it, “Shit. I’m so sorry…I can go put it back now.”

Were they going to charge you a lot for this mistake?

“Oh. It’s not merchandise, ma’am. We’re taking it home.” Hyunjin interrupted, and then looked at you, “You can keep it on.”

The cashier just smiled, “Oh, of course. My mistake then. Your order will be out in a few minutes. Have a nice day!”

You gaped at Hyunjin, “What?”

He laughed, tugging your arm to pull you away from the counter.

“Are you insane?”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Y/N” He joked, leading you to a table in the corner. He sat down, comfortably stretching his legs. You were still processing it, “This cost a fortune, you can’t just do that on a whim. I’m not okay with that.”

He sighed, gesturing at you to sit opposite him, “Come on. It’s not a big deal”

You crossed your arms, “Is this a way to get back at me because I paid for our coffees?”

He laughed, “Only you’d think someone’s getting back at you if they buy you a gift.”

You frowned, sitting down, “Well, I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something. This is far too expensive and I did nothing to earn that”

“Hey. You don’t owe me anything” He leaned forward, “I wanted to buy that for you. You can’t stop me.”

“Why?”

“Because…you look beautiful in it. It’d be a shame for anybody else in the world to wear it, and…” He looked embarrassed, “Because I saw that a few weeks ago and imagined it on you."

His compliment made your heart jump, and you wish you weren't so weak and crumbling over a boy of all things, but you didn’t want to feel ungrateful, “Oh….Thank you…Hyun.”

“So… you’re not mad at me then? You haven't called me that in a while.” He laughed. Your voice fell, touching the expensive material of the jacket, “No…I really love it. It’s beautiful.”

His smile grew, eyes crinkling, “I know. You look great in it.”

You eyed his mask, and that certainly could't be comfortable and you felt brave enough to finally say, “Are you going to wear that thing all day? I can’t even see you...but I guess I understand if you need to.” 

He looked around the cafe. He must have deemed it safe, because there weren’t many people on this floor, so he reached up, slipping his mask out finally. And god, he looked so fucking perfect under it. His nose was red from the cold. His lips were just as plush as you remembered, and they curled up into a beautiful smile for you, “Is that better for you?”

“I hate that you have to hide yourself.” 

His eyes widened just a tad, and perhaps he hadn’t expected you to be so candid, but you just nodded, “Don’t make a big deal out of it or something. Everybody in this country is in love with your face.”

The waitress then brought a tray of your coffees, and croissants, placing them between you. The view of Seoul from here was beautiful. Your heart soared, watching the sun fall on him, and he slipped on his brand-new sunglasses. They really did make him look like a rockstar, with the reflection of the glass buildings in them. He pushed his hair back, but it was a useless gesture because the strands fell back into place, bangs covering his forehead, and his hair had grown out much more. You looked around at the few businessmen in the cafe and asked, “So your managers really don’t mind that you’re out with a girl…on a random weekday?”

He nodded, cutting into the croissant with his knife, “Yeah of course. They don’t have to know.”

You sipped your coffee and then realized what he’d said, “Wait, what? They don’t know you’re here?”

Hyunjin glanced up at you, mid-bite into the croissant, chocolate creaming his lips, “What?”

“You told me you asked him for permission, so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” You stated. Realization sank into his features, and he nodded, “Um, yeah. I did”

Clearly, he was lying…and the fact that Hyunjin lied to his company about today put you on edge. He clearly noticed that. A sigh left his mouth, “Please don’t worry about it, Y/N…I thought everything through. I wanted you to have a good day.”

You couldn’t understand. A few months ago, Hyunjin let go of everything just so it wouldn’t risk his job, and now he was willingly doing this? What changed? Was it that he noticed your desperation to leave and thought he was at fault? Was he doing this all out of guilt, because he asked you to stay? You wouldn’t get any answers out of him right now, so you just decided to enjoy the chocolate croissant. 

“I am having a good day, don’t worry.” You remembered, “By the way I saw some shops out front. They had a lot of merchandise with familiar faces on them…”

“Oh no. What did you see?” He laughed, covering his face in his hands. He was so cute. You smiled, trying not to get distracted by how adorable he looked, “It was cool but I just… couldn’t wrap my head around it. How does it feel having your face literally everywhere?”

He took a long sip of his cappuccino, “Well…it takes some getting used to, but after a point you do.”

“I don’t think I could get used to my face being plastered everywhere, and people having it in their homes and stuff? It makes me anxious just thinking about it” You shuddered at just the thought, “You’re very brave.”

“Well, yeah you’d have your artwork in people’s homes instead.” He shrugged. You looked up at him, surprised, “That’s so far in the future, I can’t comprehend that”

“Maybe I could be your first buyer” He leaned back in his chair, “Would youu sell me one of your paintings for…a half a million won?”

“If you spend that much money on my shitty paintings, people would definitely think you’re sleeping with the artist.” You mumbled. He lift the mug to his mouth, eyes on yours over the rim, as he drank, “I suppose.”

If you could record your heartbeat in the moment, it’d cross inhumane levels surely. You stared at him, fighting the urge to smile, “Unfortunately, you’re fresh out of luck. All my paintings are in the trash as of last week…including the one I was actually proud of…the one I was working on for the prize.”

He grimaced, “Can I ask you what that painting was about?”

“Um. It was just based off this scientific theory… it’s silly.” You felt shy explaining the concept — it was completely inspired by the things Hyunjin had told you in the comfort of the night skies of Daejon. He frowned, putting away his food, “Tell me”

“I remember you telling me that there weren’t any stars in the city, and I was wondering…what would happen if there weren’t any for real. At all. In the world.”

He seemed intrigued, “And what did you find?”

“Just a bunch of theories, but… it’d make the universe a pretty bleak place. Most life would cease to exist…and I was trying to paint the ruins of the universe, or what would be left when everything was gone. I was trying out this new watercolour technique, for it to be abstract enough that it was up for interpretation but also concrete enough that…people felt despair when they looked at it.”

“That’s…depressing.” He blinked. You laughed, “I guess. You inspired me, I suppose.”

“Well, it seems like that painting would have been really beautiful. I’m sorry you lost it, but…I don’t understand why you threw the others away. I thought…you liked keeping all your old paintings, and holding onto those memories…”

For some reason you found yourself being so truthful with him, digging deep into your psyche to how you felt, “Man, I don’t know…everything in my life kind of feels stupid and meaningless right now. I wasted years of my life trying to get into that apprenticeship, only to basically be kicked out one semester in… it’s funny. And now I’m sitting in my apartment in my dream city with nothing to do. I guess holding onto things just feels stupid now. There’s no point. I don’t even feel like painting anymore.”

“You… shouldn’t feel that way, Y/N.” He suddenly sounded so sad, looking at you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad anymore, you’d already lost everything. You shrugged, “It’s fine honestly… I’m sure I’ll eventually find some new dream to die over. I’m obsessive like that. I know there’s something out there…that’s meant for me. Probably.” The conversation seemed to have changed the mind though so you apologised, “Sorry for killing the mood.”

“You didn’t.” He responded instantly, and there was a deep emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place. You’d seen glimpses of it before, in moments when he’d kissed you, when you’d talk to him back in Daejon, but you’d never seen it like this. It was ever-present now, and prominent, like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Your eyes traveled over his face, and he was gazing at you in a way that made you want to curl up into yourself. It was too much.  

You bit into the croissant, aware of the messy chocolate on your lips, and glanced in the window hoping to catch a bit of your reflection. You wanted to make sure you looked fine, especially sitting across someone who looked perfect, croissant crumbs on his lips. No wonder his face was in every shop here. You were seriously sitting across Hyunjin on a rooftop cafe in Seoul, for real. It felt like a dream. This wasn’t a date. Yet everything about it felt like one. It was hard to wrap your head around this reality. Hyunjin was draped in sunset light and casually sipped his coffee, looking at you like that — like he was simultaneously trying to figure you out, and like you also held all the answers to the universe.The sky was a beautiful hue of pink and orange, casting a bright glow over the entire top floor. He looked out the window, and you observed him, and then he swiftly reached into his little book bag, taking out a camera. He must want to capture the beauty of the sunset, but instead he surprised you, “Can I please take a picture of you?”

You stiffened up, “Right now..?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, pushing his sunglasses up so he could look through the camera viewfinder. You glanced at your reflection again, and you looked fine but your lipgloss was smudged. You felt conscious, “Do you mind if I fix my lip—”

“No” He immediately interrupted, sitting up, “I mean… Don’t fix it, please. I like it the way it is.”

You frowned, “But it’s all messy…”

“I know.” 

His gaze pierced yours, sending shivers down your spine. And hell, you were supposed to be mad at him for a million things but you don’t think anybody had ever made you feel this beautiful before and he hadn’t even said anything. It was just the way he looked at you, the depth of his gaze, the intensity in his expression and his eagerness to capture you like this.

“Oh…okay” You nodded, and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. He lift the camera up, snapping a few and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wish you were capturing the way Hyunjin looked at you instead. You could be a hundred years old and never get tired of that expression. His smile had given way to concentration, and he continued taking pictures of you. You wonder if you would ever get used to how he made you feel. 

You think all of this had to mean something. You weren’t stupid. He’d been flirting with you the entire day, and you hadn’t stopped him, or questioned it. After all, his way of talking didn’t feel like anything new. It was just how he used to be with you. Every compliment spoken so… easily and tenderly. After being away from his adoration for months, it felt like being plunged into an ice-cold bath. He had no qualms about being too direct or straightforward. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. Had he finally given up on the charade of not wanting you in his life? Because right now, you were very much in his life. He put the camera down as if he’d heard your private thoughts, “Thank you for today. I was worried before that I had somehow ruined everything…” He paused, as if he was struggling with his thoughts, “With you. I know I dug myself into that hole…but…it feels good to be here with you. Feels like nothing changed since summer.”

Your heart constricted at those words, making you feel uneasy, but you smiled, because he seemed so happy in the moment. Except you didn’t want it to be like summer anymore though. Summer was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. You desired and wanted more. You needed more of him with you, on you, in you, and now…after everything that had happened, after today, you somehow felt brave enough to not shy away from it.

»»————-

Your little evening with Hyunjin had already ruined you. You’d been home for just a few hours, and you’d already started reliving the events in your mind. You hadn’t even taken off the jacket he bought you, even though it would get crumpled the longer you wore it. You tried to distract yourself by cooking dinner so the scent of food could fill your apartment instead, but it still couldn’t rival the lingering fragrance of his cologne that clung to the jacket draped over your chair. 

Only an hour had passed and you gave up trying to distract yourself and sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him, and you should probably try to protect your heart. You knew you should probably take off this jacket that cost hundreds. You’d worked so hard to try to move on but now that he was fighting to be in your life, it was like all your efforts had been for nothing. You ended up pulling up his videos, watching all of his performances from years and years ago, seeing the way he grew over time into the performer he was. All of the comments were in love with him. Millions, just like you, watching him in their bedrooms. You knew for sure, that you couldn’t let things go back to what they were: just fleeting moments of passion, and waiting on the edge of your seat for the next kiss. You knew now, that you needed something real from him.  You’d changed and pretending that your feelings hadn’t deepened in his absence would only be a useless task. 

»»————-

There was a voicemail in your inbox from Kairi. It had been a few days since you’d gone out with Hyunjin, and he’d unwittingly inspired you to step the fuck out of your apartment. You’d been walking through the market, browsing the collections of knick-knacks and shops, trying to find something Felix and Minho would really like. You wanted to mail stuff home that reminded you of them. You pressed your phone to your ear, trying to hear Kairi’s voicemail over the noise of the streets. She started out saying, “Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you, but I think you were busy so I just thought I’d leave you a message, and you can get back to me whenever. I know a lot is going on with you, and I haven’t exactly been the best friend I could have. I’m sorry, I guess I was still trying to readjust to having Chris back in my life.”

The electronics store you stepped into was huge, spanning almost five different floors, featuring tech that you hadn’t even heard of. The aisles were full of inventions and gadgets that Daejon could only even dream of. Kairi’s voicemail continued, “So what I was getting at is that there’s a…dinner party at my apartment. It’s…sort of an annual thing, I do it every year. My parents used to host them, but I've been doing them ever since they moved out. It’s fancy for no reason at all, but I love doing it because it’s a tradition? It’s not a lot of people, usually just me, the boys, and some of Chan’s friends. I’m going to make a six-course meal, and that sounds crazy. I guess it is, but I like doing it. Anyway, I guess this is just a long-winded way of me saying that…I would really like if you were there.”

You stopped in the middle of the aisle, listening to her continue, “I know that probably sounds like a lot for you, and… I’ve had these parties each year and I never really invite anybody, because it’s just…a really small gathering. The boys have been overworked too, so this would be perfect for them. I completely understand if you don’t want to come, but please consider it. I really want you there, and…you can bring Nate. I know that might put you at ease. Just think about it and let me know.”

Despite how warm her invitation made you feel, it was this Saturday. The same night you were going out with Nate. You had already long promised him you’d be his plus-one to the wedding reception. He was your friend and you couldn’t bail on him, no matter how much you craved to see Hyunjin and Kairi, and the others. Meeting him would just have to wait.

»»————-

Jeonghan’s arm fit perfectly on your waist, and he was all smiles as he introduced you to the rest of his family. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about tonight at all. His presence brought you ease. You’d bought a new dress, the color of cherries, a bow decorating the back, hoping it would match the vibe of everybody else at the reception. It made you feel confident enough to tackle tonight. It was a cold night, and the dress fell to your thighs, but nobody else seemed to care about the weather as they danced in strappy tops, and short skirts. Jeonghan, on the other hand, made you feel confident too. He’d proudly introduced you to everyone, and for a while there, it almost felt like you were going out together. He leaned into your ear, breath warm on your neck, “So, how are we feeling?”

You spoke through a smile, watching the guests on the dance floor, “Well. I’ve certainly never been to a wedding reception this fancy…people here really spend money on everything.”

He shook his head, “Nope. They just like to show that they can.” You glanced at him, “You know you are talking about your own family, right?” You had known Jeonghan was well-off, but truthfully, you never knew he was this wealthy. The wedding reception had been grand, and ice sculptures decorated each table setting. It was all a bit much, you could appreciate the grandeur though. He rolled his eyes, “Mum and dad have been planning this day their whole lives. I’m surprised they didn’t fly us all out to an island in the Bahamas.”

“Well, I would’ve loved to be your plus-one for that.” You laughed. He shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe for my wedding."

It was a beautiful location anyway, even if it wasn’t the Bahamas. An outdoor garden setting, hundreds of twinkling lights lit up the trees, and a dance floor where all the guests were letting loose, clearly very tipsy. You looked up at the canopy of trees, which were decorated with lush wildflowers, “Those alone must have cost you millions of won.”

“Much like your company tonight” He mumbled. You laughed, looking at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

He turned to face you, both hands grabbing you by the waist, “You know I really thought you’d ditch me tonight. Don’t you have your friend’s dinner party tonight?”

“Well…you asked me first. I made you a promise. I happen to be a good friend.”

Jeonghan smiled prettily, and he looked handsome today in the tuxedo, his hair swept back. He pulled you closer, hands on your bare back, “Thank you. Tonight would have sucked without you.”

“It’s your sister’s wedding. That’s not very nice to say” You frowned, teasing him. He chuckled, “Precisely. It’s her wedding, and I had no say on the guest list. You’re the only one I picked to be here tonight.”

You smiled, uncaring of the fact that you were in a very public space with almost all his relatives watching your intimate exchange, “I’m honored to be there for you.”

His eyes drifted over you, cheeks darkening, “You really do look pretty tonight. The other guy is definitely missing out.”

You rolled your eyes, the mention of Hyunjin stinging you a little bit, but all the wine you’d consumed tonight made it more bearable. 

“Nate, honey, can you come here a second?” An older woman interrupted, stepping over to you. One of the guests, who he’d introduced to you as his aunt, smiled at the two of you, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need your help with something, sweetie.”

Unwillingly, Jeonghan let go of you, fingers brushing the bow on your back as he did. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” He spoke. You laughed, “Don’t worry. Take your time.”

He leaned in, pressing a cheek to your kiss before following his aunt through the crowd. You smiled as he left whilst complaining about whatever task she put him up to. Being here with Jeonghan felt intimate, but it was never uncomfortable. You felt relaxed around him and his family, and he never pushed your boundaries. The reception had also been beautiful, and even though you didn’t know the wedding couple, the hopeless romantic in you craved for the kind of love they held. They’d been high school sweethearts, and the idea of that itself felt crazy to you. How must it feel to be so sure of your choice, and to have been in love for so long? You held your purse tightly, watching the couples on the dance floor. It was sweet. It was only ten minutes until Jeonghan was running back to you, “I’m sorry that took me so long. She wanted me to take pictures of her. Again!”

You laughed, “She must think you’re a real good photographer.” He rolled his eyes, “She just wants a new Facebook profile picture. I think I need more tequila.”

“That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” You mumbled. He tugged at your hand, pulling you to the open bar, “Just one more wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave in since this was his party after all and you were only a guest, letting him lead you as he ordered you both a round of shots. He leaned against the bar, rolling his sleeves up and admittedly that made him look hot. You glanced at your phone, noticing a few messages from Kairi. You don’t know why you expected a text from Hyunjin, but in your hurry, you’d stupidly left your other phone at home. The one he bought you, where he’d text and call you. After all, keeping track of two phones was hard.

After a quick round of shots, you settled on the bar stools, watching all his drunk relatives, laughing about the stories he told you about them. The hours passed, and you were both tipsy, sitting so close at the bar. You could have easily kissed him. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. It’s like Jeonghan knew that too. He was holding your face, thumb brushing against your mouth as he mumbled in a drunk-haze, “You know what I think?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you should really get to that dinner, Y/N. I’ll be fine here.”

“I can’t leave you alone. I promised you.” You spoke. He laughed, “And I’m glad you came, but…wouldn’t your friend feel bad if you don’t show up?”

“She knows I have…prior obligations. They wouldn’t miss me.” You frowned, and suddenly the anxiety was back in your stomach. You were a little tired, and the thought of showing up at the dinner, where Hyunjin would definitely be, paralyzed you. Yet you also told Kairi you’d try your best to make it, even if only for a little while to grab dessert and you had to be a good friend to her too. Jeonghan nodded, “Just show up for her. I’m sure she would want you there. Plus, you look…really hot tonight. It’d be a waste to only wear that dress in front of my traditional old relatives. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

He was right. The formalities of the reception was over and now it was probably just going to be a never-ending party until dawn. It would be nice to see Kairi and the others tonight, even if you weren’t mentally prepared for it at all. You hadn’t thought you’d get a chance to get there at all. You cracked a smile at his consideration, looking up at him, “I guess I should get going now, if I want to make it in time for dessert. Only because you’re forcing me.”

Jeonghan nodded, helping you jump off the bar stool, and you looked back at the reception party. Everybody was having so much fun, you wish you could stay the entire night. You let Jeonghan lead you to the street, where the taxi waited for you. He thanked you for showing up and kissed you a short goodbye. When you sat in the taxi, you sent Kairi a simple text that you were on your way, and you hope that you were still welcome there.

»»————-

Of course things weren't going to go your way. The cab driver dropped you off on the wrong street, and after a long struggle in your kitten-heels you finally made it to Kairi’s doorstep. The cold had definitely sobered you up a bit, bringing back your nervousness about being here, but Kairi had clearly felt comfortable enough to have you over so you’d suck it up. Her place was inside a lavish apartment complex, and you rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently. Your stomach was already twisting at the prospect of meeting everyone, and at seeing him again. It was Chan who answered the door, and for a second it felt like you had no idea what to say, until he grinned, “You’re here!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a half-hug, on his doorstep. You were taken aback, definitely not expecting the physical contact. After all this was only your second time meeting him, but you bought your arm up, hugging him back briefly. His hair was curly, and he smelled nice. It was all you registered before he stepped back, inviting you in. 

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at a wedding…” You began to explain, and he shook his head, curls bouncing, “Don’t apologise! Kairi told me you had plans already so no hard feelings. We’re just glad you could make it in time…let me take your coat.”

He grabbed it from you, hooking it on a coat hanger as you looked around. It was a decently sized place, far bigger than your apartment. A set of stairs led to another floor. Dinner must have been really good, because you could still smell the aromas. Chan said, “And…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but sorry for my behaviour the last time we met, at Kairi’s birthday. I was really drunk and emotional, I’m not usually like that.”

“No, you were just really fucking desperate.” Kairi’s voice interrupted, and she ran over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Relief surged through you at seeing her here. She looked beautiful, in a midnight blue corset, and high-waisted black pants to match and you smiled at her, “You look so good. Thank you for having me over. ”

“Me?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “Look at you. You’re all dolled up, like a fairy.”

“I’m really sorry I missed dinner. It smells amazing.” You frowned. She sighed dramatically, “I missed you to death, but I’ll live. This just means we need to do another one of these soon. Come on, everybody’s in there!”

Before you could mentally prepare, she’d pulled you into another room, Chan following behind. You tried to register everything. It was a cosy living room, ambient purple and orange lighting cast over everything. A popular pop song was playing at a low volume in the background. There was a lot of seating, a couch, and a bunch of unique, colourful chairs surrounded the coffee table. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, and maybe that last round of shots had been a bad idea as you tried to register all of their faces. They were all busy in conversation, wine glasses in hand, not having noticed you yet, and you hoped it stayed like so. That way, you could just slip into conversation with no embarrassing announcement of your arrival. This was the first time you’d be meeting the band. There were two other people here that you didn’t recognise. They were both dressed casually, in cargo pants and a white beanie, and you felt a bit overdressed. “They’re some of Chan’s friends, and they work with the band. That’s Hanbin and that’s Sunmi.” Kairi leaned in to whisper. Somebody in the corner was playing the piano, a beautiful low melody, and Kairi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey. She’s here.”

Immediately, he stopped playing. Jisung — the one on the piano — burst into a smile and stood up, “Shit. You’re actually like, here!” He pulled you into a hug, just like Chan had, and they must all be touchy or very drunk. As he stepped back, he continued smiling, extending a hand, “Han Jisung, by the way.”

“We’ve met before…kind of.” You said, meeting his hand with yours. Realisation sank into his face, and all his expressions were exaggerated as he nodded, “Right, right, we have. In the company building when I dropped all your coins at the vending machine…I was an idiot.”

“When are you not?” Somebody joined you, slinging a strong arm around Jisung. You recognized him from the pictures, “Hey, Y/N…You must know who I am, right?” Changbin had a coy smile on his face, dressed in a navy button-up that only he could probably make look this good. You smiled at him, “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

He smiled, gesturing to someone, “I don’t think you’ve met Hanbin.” At those words, the boy you didn’t know stood from the couch, and you regretted pulling them out of their comfortable conversation circle, “Oh, you don’t need to get up for me.”

In the midst of the chaos and onslaught of introductions, your eyes finally found Hyunjin. He was standing by the couch, a drink in his hand, at the far end of the room, laughing about something with a girl — who was probably Sunmi. Your stomach jumped, goosebumps rippling up your entire body. He looked absolutely fucking insane. In a good way, in the best way. His hair was tied up into a low ponytail, but strands of hair fell into his face, framing it perfectly. The purple light cast rhythmic shadows on his face. He stood in a black sweater, and tight denim-wash jeans, one hand tucked into his pocket. He was only standing in a living room, but he could just as easily have been posing for a Vogue photoshoot, by his perfect stance. He hadn’t realized you were here yet, or maybe he was pretending to not notice. You didn’t have time to think about it before Hanbin stepped ahead, blocking him from your view, “Kairi would not stop talking about you the past three hours.”

You flushed, “Oh… I wish I could have been here for the entire dinner. Knowing her, it must have been great.”

“We did save you some.” Chan added. You murmured a thank you, feeling dizzy from all the attention. They were almost all talking over each other, and you were already so overwhelmed. Jisung gestured to you, “Grab a drink and sit with me.”

“No, let her eat first. Baby, you mind heating up the leftovers for Y/N?” Kairi asked Chan. You shook your head, “Please, there’s no need for that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Kairi rolled her eyes, “Girl, you’re my guest of honor.” Chan smiled at you, “You can follow me.” 

So, you went with him into the hallway, passing by a doorway. A door was left ajar, a glimpse into a room. It was only half a second, but you saw a wooden bed frame and a sliver of a wall of art, “Is that Kairi’s room?”

Chan shook his head, “It used to be, but she made it into a guest bedroom. Hyunjin mostly sleeps in there now. Come on. The kitchen’s through here.” He said, his strong voice guiding you through the corridor. “Right, sorry,” you said, turning away from the door and following him to the kitchen. The kitchen was big too, and set up beautifully, with marble countertops and a small kitchen island. Chan reached into the sink, rummaging through some dirty dishes, “Sorry. We’ve been meaning to run the dishwasher. Kairi kind of goes crazy at these dinners.”

You leaned against the counter, “That’s fine. No judgement.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, looking over his shoulder at you, “We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise.”

“You have a lot on your plate already, Chan. I completely understand.” You told him, with a smile. He laughed, “You’re sweet. I’m just heating up some of the chicken and fondant potatoes for you. That good?”

“Could I actually have some water? If… that’s okay” You asked. He smiled, “Of course it is. Make yourself at home. There are some clean mugs in the cabinet. You can just grab one and help yourself.” You walked around the island, opening up the cabinet. Mugs of different shapes and sizes were arranged precisely in there, and Kairi’s unique taste was definitely recognisable. A cerulean blue mug made of porcelain rested in the very back. You rather get a mug they sparsely used, so you reached for it, pulling it out. Pushing it under the tap, you began filling it with water. Chan glanced at you and your selection, “Oh. That’s Hyunjin’s favorite.”

You stilled, “Oh. Sorry. Should I pick another?”

Of course it fucking was. Why did you have to pick that one amongst all of them? “No, no, go ahead. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Chan smiled, pushing a button to start the dishwasher and then crossed his arms towards you, “I’ll just go see if the guys need any more drinks.”

“Sure.” You responded, taking a slow sip from the mug, and the knowledge that it was his favourite mug made you feel jittery. Doing all those shots before coming to see Hyunjin had been a terrible idea. You grabbed your water and held it tight, returning to the living room, where you could hear loud laughter from. They were all back in conversation, and Changbin was imitating a silly dance, making Hyunjin laugh. You stood under the archway, watching them. A few seconds went by, and Hyunjin was still laughing, crinkled eyes, and he reached up to tuck his hair back absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw you.

You don’t know what you were expecting. He stilled, eyes widening, trailing off in the middle of his conversation. He really hadn’t known you had arrived. His lips formed a small smile, and that was so fucking attractive, and from across the room, he mouthed, “Hey.”

The tension within you dissipated. You had to fight your smile, feeling lovestruck and lovesick by a smile word. All he said was hi. Then why did your knees already feel weak? Why did it feel like the first time you had seen him, unable to comprehend anything except his absolutely, insane beauty? You shot him a soft smile, mouthing back, “Hey.”

He sidestepped his friends, walking over to you, and you felt shy under his intense gaze. His stance was casual and so confident, and in another universe you could imagine meeting him at a college party like this. “You came.” He spoke, and you tilt your head up to look him in the eyes, “Yeah. I did.”

His eyes fell to the mug in your hands, and you realised there was a lipstick stain on it. Your lipstick stain. On his stuff. You apologised, “Um, sorry, Chan said I can—”

“Don’t worry” He interrupted too quick, eyes flickering over your form, “How are you?”

You’d already decided this was your time to be brave, and you weren’t going to hold back tonight, “I’m okay. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and I—” 

“So, what took you so long tonight?” Hanbin asked, stepping up to the two of you. You glanced at him, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you but he was being polite so you spoke, “Oh, I was at a wedding reception. I promised my friend I’d be his date.”

“Ahh. That’s why you’re dressed up so pretty. Was it a good reception?” He asked. You smiled at his compliment, “Yeah. I…had a great time actually. It was definitely a fancy event.”

“Can I see the pictures? Please tell me you took some!” Kairi asked, overhearing the conversation. She was perched on Chan’s lap, and you shot Hyunjin an apologetic smile, you’d just have to speak to him later and you handed your phone over to her, “Yeah, actually I did. Jeonghan is kind of obsessed with taking pictures, so we took a lot.”

She scrolled through your gallery, and Jisung leaned in over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pictures too, “Wow. That shit looks…expensive.Your friend’s loaded.”

You laughed, “I guess his family is pretty rich.”

“He took a lot of pictures of just you.” Kairi teased, scrolling through, “I mean, I don’t blame him. You look like you stepped out of a fairytale.”

“Um. You should have seen the bride.” You laughed. Jisung was still nosily peeking into your phone, “So, who’s Jeonghan?”

“He’s a…friend.” You explained, while Chan handed you a drink. It seemed like one of his famous cocktails Hyunjin had told you about, but nothing could beat the drink he had made you on his last night in Daejon. Despite how much you wanted to try this, you really didn’t want to be drunk tonight, “Um…I shouldn’t. I already drank more than I should have tonight.”

“I mean, objectively, the best thing about weddings is the open bars,” Changbin pointed out. You laughed, “You’re right and Jeonghan used that same excuse to force me through five rounds of tequila.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “You’re fucking kidding me. You must have a high tolerance if you’re so sober after five shots.”

“I think the walk in the cold definitely contributed to that” You joked, and then explained due to his perplexed look, “I must have put in the wrong location because the cab driver dropped me off a few blocks away.”

“In those shoes? I would have given up.” Changbin asked.

“So you took a cab alone?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Your gaze darted to him, surprised he’d spoken up and you hadn’t realised how much you’d insanely missed his delicate voice. You nodded, “Um, yeah.”

“Your… friend sent you here in a cab when you were drunk and by yourself?”

“I mean…yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Nate couldn’t have dropped you here?” He asked. You frowned, “It’s not like I was gonna ask him to bring me here, it was his family’s party.” His eyebrows shot up, “Isn’t he rich? I’m sure he could have figured out a way.”

“These pictures are beautiful,” Kairi spoke, cutting the tension in the room as she handed you your phone back. You were staring at Hyunjin, and at his misplaced concern. Changbin had also clearly picked up on it, because he nudged him in the stomach, “If you were so worried about her, you should have offered to pick her up.”

Hyunjin took a sip of his drink, nonchalant face, “I did.”

Your eyes widened. When did he offer that? You showed your honest surprise, “I… didn’t know.”

The room was quiet, and Jisung chuckled, “Must be the first girl in history to ignore your texts, Jinnie”. 

The others laughed, but Hyunjin genuinely looked hurt that you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. In all truth, you never saw that text. If you did, you would have said yes. You’d forgotten the phone he gave you at your bedside table, and you couldn’t be blamed for not being able to keep track of it when so much was going on. You shook your head, “No, I just…had a lot on my mind, I was with Jeonghan the whole day, I must have missed it.”

Your response satisfied the room, but seemed to be the wrong answer for Hyunjin by the slight hurt in his eyes that only you noticed. It sucked because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like that tonight.

“So how do you know Kairi?” Hanbin asked, smiling attentively at you. You couldn’t focus, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t genuinely hurt and spoke, “Oh…it was just a coincidence. I met her in a bar.” Kairi nodded along, “And she offered to give me her jacket! Some fucking loser had thrown his drink on me.”

Hanbin laughed, adjusting his beanie, “I see. I see...So I take it you’re not a fan then?”

“Sorry?”

“You ain’t heard these guys’ music before?” He gestured towards the boys. You nodded, realising he was asking if you liked the band “Oh, some of it, yeah.”

“Oh, you’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.” Changbin pouted. Sunmi rolled her eyes, “No, it’s a breath of fresh air to see you not fawning over them. I like you already.”

Oh, if only she knew how much you did obsess over one of them. She would be concerned for you, if she could read your mind around him. You forced a smile, “I just honestly… hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago.”

Her eyes widened, “You’re kidding. How do you live in Seoul and not hear of them?” Then Chan leaned forward, adding to explain to you, “Sunmi’s one of our producers, by the way. She’s been with us since our second album. One of the best.”

“And Y/N isn’t a local.” Kairi added, “She moved here a while ago.”

“Yeah the music scene back home is….not the biggest.” You said briefly, not wanting to talk about yourself too much. You had been hoping to blend in, not be the centre of attention tonight and Sunmi asked, “And where is… back home?”

“Okay! A pause on the questions. I need Y/N for something.” Kairi interrupted, coming over to you and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I’m getting another drink.”

You nodded, relieved she could pick up on your body language. As soon as you were out of earshot of the living room, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. They ask you a lot of questions. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”

“No, I don’t mind, I’m just kind of tired and feel like I may not be at my best social energy right now.” You apologised, leaning against the counter, as she made a cocktail for herself. Her eyes wandered over you, “You really do look beautiful. I love the glitter eyeshadow.”

“You like my bow?” You smiled, twirling to show her. She laughed, “It’s the cherry on top. So, how was it tonight with Nate? As far as I remember…. he has the biggest crush on you, or he’s just a very sincere… fuckboy.”

“Regardless…I had a really good time with him.” You said, running your finger along the marble slab. You could hear Jisung and Changbin’s loud laughter from the other room. They seemed like a lot of fun, and you definitely wanted to relax for the rest of the night. You wanted them to like you too, so perhaps you could do with a little liquid courage. As if she read your mind, Kairi finished mixing her drink then tilt her head, “You suuure you don’t want one?”

But every other time you’d gotten tipsy around Hyunjin, you’d ended up doing something stupid. “No, I…think I’ll stick with water.” You decided. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her vodka, “Did you two kiss tonight?”

“Me and Jeonghan…?” You were surprised at the question. She hummed, “Yeah, sorry if that was weird to ask. I just know…things between you and Hyunjin…aren’t the best.”

“Did you hear us? The other night in the car?” You ended up asking, even though it was embarrassing for you to bring up that argument. She looked up at you, “Bits and pieces.”

“And what’d you think?” You bit your lip. She sighed, “I think you both…have a lot of pent-up feelings. It’s good you got them out.”

“It felt…immature to fight him. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m usually not…that vocal”

“There was nothing wrong with what you said. I mean, trust me, I’ve had a hell of a lot more aggressive fights with Chris. We end up saying a lot of stuff we don’t mean.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I meant everything. I don’t really regret any of it.”

“Then he needed to hear that.” Kairi agreed, “I didn’t know he cut you off like that completely. I would have been devastated if I was you. I’d say you handled it pretty well… Hyunjin doesn’t really talk to me about you, and I wish I could be more helpful. How do you feel now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but he took me shopping last week… I don’t know how I feel about it. It felt a lot like a date, but it wasn’t. I just…wish I had some surety from him, you know?”

Her hand landed on yours comfortingly, “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I’m just glad you chose to come tonight.”

“Are you girls gonna spend the entire night gossiping without us?” Jisung interrupted. You turned and saw him in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. You hope he didn’t overhear anything. Kairi laughed, “What do you need?”

Jisung grinned widely, “Well, actually. I was gonna go get ice from the fridge upstairs, if any of you want to accompany me for that? Make you feel helpful.”

“I could come with.” You offered, smiling at him. He did a small fist pump, “Exactly the outcome I was hoping for. No offence, Kair”

As you followed him up the stairs to the storage room, he reminded you, “Be careful, your heels. I’ve fallen face-first on these steps more times than I’d admit.” 

Your heart warmed at his concern, and you grabbed the bannister to keep your balance.“Cool place though, right?” He asked, looking back at you as you observed the framed pictures on the wall and he continued, “Me and the boys used to spend a lot of our weekends here.”

“Oh? That must have been nice….” You walked into a storage room, of sorts. A mini-fridge stood in the corner and Jisung pulled it open, grabbing the ice box as he looked back at you, “Yeah. Kairi got so sick of having us over, she ended up turning her study into another guest room.”

“Of course she did.” You laughed, “Do you still come here often?”

He shook his head, reaching for more ice, “After Chan and Kairi broke up, we obviously stopped for a while, but… I’m hoping to get back to normal. Couldn’t be more thrilled that they’re back together.”

“Me too. They seem pretty…perfect for each other.” You smiled. He stood up straight, his ribbed top riding up, and you looked away. All of them were so attractive it was hard to comprehend such a pretty friend group existed. He grinned at you, “I should thank you for that.”

“Me? I… didn’t do anything” 

“Do you mind holding this?” He handed you the ice box momentarily, “Well, Hyunjin told me that you helped them meet up at her birthday.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded, gripping it within your hands and it was freezing, condensation making it slip in your palms, “I…guess I did.” You had the urge to ask him what else he talked about with him, but this was your first time meeting Jisung, and that would be weird to ask. “Sure sounded like a fun party. Hyunjin told me you organise those a lot.” Jisung continued, taking back the ice box from you, “And tell me about it downstairs. I would love to talk to you in this storage room all night, but… let’s get this ice to them before all of it melts, and before Changbin threatens to kill me again.”

Back in the living room, the music seemed louder when you returned, and Hyunjin was engaged in an intense conversation with Sunmi and Changbin. Kairi was showing Chan something on her phone. You settled on a seat, and Jisung naturally pulled up a chair to be closer to you. He clinked his drink with yours, before he took a big mouthful, cheeks full of the liquid before swallowing. “So…what was I saying?” Jisung asked, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. You took a sip of your water, already feeling more at ease around him, “About how I’m a really great party planner.”

He smiled, “Right. That. Have you ever thought of doing that professionally?”

You laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know what Hyunjin was talking about. I’ve only organised two parties in my life…my best friend's and Kairi’s…they both ended in a disaster.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, I’m sure.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “So… he also happened to mention you’re real good at art. Can I see some of it or are you going to be shrouded in mystery forever?”

You giggled, reaching for your phone, “There is absolutely nothing mysterious about that, Jisung. You can see it, but… it’s not the best.”

He peeked into your phone gallery as you showed him a few paintings you’d made over the past few years, and Jisung probably wasn’t interested in art, but he still smiled, reacting overtly to each of them and even pointing out which ones he liked. He reminded you a lot of Yeonjun in that sense, where he took interest in something just because of his friends. He was playful, and it was nice to see the physical manifestation of all the stories Hyunjin told you about. You glanced up and Hyunjin was looking at you, probably curious about why you and Jisung were peeking into your phone, so you explained, “I was just showing him some of my paintings.”

He nodded, making brief eye contact with Jisung before he said, “Ah. I’m uh…going to check on the dessert.”

“Do you want my help?” You asked, already moving to stand up. He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from the conversation.”

Disappointed, you settled back down, and Jisung spoke, “Can I ask you something, honestly though?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you leave your fancy wedding date to come here?”

“I…promised Kairi I’d try to make it here.” You replied, staring at the liquid in your glass. Jisung hummed, “Right, right. I see.” You were glad he didn’t push you further, seeing as how he was Hyunjin’s best friend and any answer you could come up with would be embarrassing. Before you could say anything further anyway, Changbin started talking about an incident on their trip to Japan, and you let yourself be swept up into the conversation. He was a great storyteller, and so charismatic. It wasn’t too hard to imagine why they were so famous. You’d only been here an hour or so, and you could listen to them talk for hours. Almost mesmerised by their dynamic, you watched the boys talk, losing track of time… and of how long Hyunjin had been gone. Your mug lay empty on the coffee table, and you stood up to refill it, when Changbin asked, “Where the fuck is Jinnie?”

“Probably hyper-fixating in the kitchen. Y/N, do you think you could call him out?” Jisung replied, looking at you expectantly. You blanked, feeling taken aback by the question. Kairi noticed, moving to stand, “Um, I can get—”

“No, that’s fine.” You spoke. You were braver than that and it would finally give you the chance to talk to him by yourself, “I can just get him.”

“Okay…” She settled back down, shooting you a comforting smile. You walked over to the kitchen, and your heels were so loud on the tiled floor that he’d definitely hear you coming. The door was closed, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to interrupt him. 

“Come in.” His voice carried to you. You pushed the door open, eyes falling on him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking from his glass, staring into nothing. Well. He was staring at the oven, but why was he alone in here? He looked over his shoulder, eyes flickering over your form, “Oh. Hey.”

You stood awkwardly by the door, hand holding it open, “Hi. Um. The guys were…asking for you. I thought you were getting dessert.” He looked around, at the mess of things, “I was. It’s still not ready, so I decided to wait for it. You can let them know I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh.” You spoke, wondering if you should leave… but you were curious, “You’ve been in here by yourself for really long.”

“Yeah. Just wanted to be by myself for a bit.”

A tinge of hurt hit you, “Oh…do you want me to leave?”

He let out a sigh, putting his glass on the counter, and turned to face you, “No…you don’t have to do that.”

“But…you just said you want to be by yourself.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, amused look on his face, “That…obviously doesn’t include you.”

You’d been standing on the threshold the entire time, but at those words, you stepped in, letting the door shut behind you. You looked around the little kitchen, “Sorry I used your mug.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s fine. I’m surprised you ended up picking mine. Guess we like the same things.”

“You could say that.” You breathed, hands behind your back. His gaze felt so strong on you, and it was so quiet in here compared to the chaos of the outside. He smiled lightly, when you asked him, “So…what dessert are we having tonight?” 

He glanced at the oven, “A…strawberry tart. You like those?”

You thought about it, “I don���t know. I haven’t had one since I was a kid anyway.”

Hyunjin put his hands on the counter, tilting his head, “Really? Felix never baked one for you?”

“He was kind of obsessed with chocolate…I had too much of that.” You recalled. Hyunjin smiled, nodding, “Right. I remember trying out the treats he made us…when we went to the Creek for the swim.”

“Wow…that feels like it was ages ago.” You remembered. Hyunjin nodded, “It was. I guess. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Do you miss it?” You ended up asking. His expression softened, “I…do. Your friends were fun to hang out with.”

“Aren’t they your friends too?” You laughed. He shrugged cutely, “Right, but I don’t think I would’ve talked to anybody in town if it wasn’t for you.”

You smiled, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. That was all Hana. She’s the one who…introduced you to us.”

“You miss them? Your friends?” He asked. You sighed, leaning against the door, crossing your arms to keep warm as you thought about it, “Yeah. Recently I’ve missing home so much and my friends, well at this point they’re…like my family. It sucks being separated from them. Kind of like…how you felt when you were away from the boys.”

“I’m sorry if I forced you to stay.” He suddenly said, “I realize that…it may have been my emotionally clouded judgment, and I feel like… I guilted you into staying here. Maybe it was selfish of me.”

Your eyes narrowed, a realisation sinking in as to why he seemed a little distant, “Is that why you’re in here by yourself?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Just needed to take my mind off things. I guess honestly, I just…miss spending time with you, like we did back home. The other night, I was learning a new routine and realised you’ve never even seen me dance. Not in person, at least. I mean, isn’t that crazy? We’ve known each other so long, but there’s so much of me you don’t know. The thought freaked me out, and then…”

“And then?”

“Then I started thinking that it goes the other way too. There’s so much of you I still haven’t seen.” He said, “Like the other day, when you wore the jacket, I realised…I only know you in the summer. I haven’t seen you in winter."

Your heart squeezed at his confusing but thoughtful words, and you smiled, “I’m the same in all the seasons, Hyunjin.”

He was looking at you from across the room, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Did you know I was coming here tonight?” 

He shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Kairi told me you had a wedding date with Jeonghan…”

“Yeah, I did. He understands though…this was just as important.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I would love to see you dance…if you feel comfortable.”

He looked at you at that, smiling slightly, before a short embarrassed laugh, “Yeah."

The oven let out a ding, interrupting whatever you might say. He smiled wide, and his demeanour already seemed lighter, “It’s done. Do you wanna do the honor?”

“Oh. Sure”. You stepped over to him,, and he pulled open the oven door. He was standing so close now that you could see the perspiration slide down his jaw, droplets cascading down neck, and he must have been nervous this whole time. You bent down to see into the oven, and it smelled amazing, but before you could grab the handle of the hot pan, you felt a firm grip on your arm stopping you, “Wait—”. 

Startled, you looked up at Hyunjin, his hand circling your wrist tightly, “What?”

His eyes searched yours, “It’s burning hot. Y/N. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You then realised you weren’t wearing any mitts, and you were just gonna grab the baking dish like so, with bare hands. How stupid. Your hair fell into your eyes, making it harder to see Hyunjin, but you mumbled a pathetic, “Oh.”

He reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, then let out a chuckle, voice soft, “What were you thinking?” 

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “I wasn’t.”

He smiled, standing up tall, “I got this.”

Your face felt hot, and you were only a little mortified. Carefully, Hyunjin placed the baking dish on the kitchen counter, taking off his oven mitts; they were red and matched your dress. He nudged you, elbow against yours, “You wanna be the first one to try it? I’ll let you have an extra piece and if you end up liking it and want the whole thing, I can just tell the others I burnt the dish.”

You laughed, looking up at him, “You’d lie to your friends so I could have more pastry?”

A knock on the door pulled your attention to Chan. He peeked in, “Hey guys. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt…but Hanbin’s leaving, so he wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Of course” Hyunjin said, and you followed them out into the foyer, where Hanbin and Sumni stood in their winter coats already and everybody was gathered around them. Kairi was hugging them, when Hyunjin spoke, “You’re not staying for dessert? Come onn.”

Hanbin smiled apologetically, “Dude, it’s gonna snow again, and the traffic’s terrible. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home until morning.”

“Oh, you should still take some of the strawberry tart some with you” Kairi said, running back into the kitchen, “I have a few takeout containers.”

You looked at Sunmi, “You said traffic’s going to be bad?” She nodded, “Yeah, Seoul basically shuts down in bad weather. We don’t wanna risk it. It’ll only get worse, but …it was really nice meeting you tonight, Y/N.”

You glanced at Chan, realising they were probably right, and your stomach sank, “Oh. I guess I should probably get going too then.”

“What?” Jisung complained loudly, “You just got here.”

“We can drop you off.” Hanbin suggested, “Our car’s parked out front.”

Jisung let out a dramatic sigh. You didn’t really want to leave, you were just getting to warm up to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t leave, you could be stuck until tomorrow. You reached for your coat, “That sounds good Hanbin, as long as it’s not an inconvenience.”

Kairi walked back in with takeout boxes in hand, and her eyes narrowed, “What’s going on? Y/N’s leaving too?”

You slipped your coat on, tossing your hair out of it, “They said they could take me home. The snow’s piling up....” Kairi shook her head, “Nope. You’re not leaving.”

You laughed, stepping closer to grab her hand, “What do you mean? I don't want to leave but I I don’t exactly have a choice.”

She squeezed your hands, “Babe, you just got a few hours ago. Stay a while, and if things are still bad when you want to leave, you can just sleep in my guest bedroom. I mean, that’s what it’s for.”

You considered it, and then Changbin spoke, “See? You have no excuses. So if you still decide to leave now, that just means you hate us.”

You laughed, “Okay, I guess I can stay a little.”

Kairi squealed, pulling you into a hug. Your heart warmed at the idea that they all wanted to spend more time with you. It was only the first time you were meeting most of them, but they still reacted like that. It made you feel wanted. You’d only been craving that all this while. From the corner of your eye, you caught Hyunijn’s reaction. He wasn’t dramatically expressive, unlike Changbin or Jisung, who wore their emotions on their sleeve. Hyunjin was watching this exchange quietly from the corner, arms across his chest, leaning against a pillar. He seemed calm, like he was okay with whatever you ended up doing, but he was gazing at you so intently it made you want to stay just so he’d look at you like that the rest of the night.

»»————-

In a matter of an hour, the strawberry tart had been cut up and shared, and remnants lay on porcelain plates decorating the coffee table. Kairi had beautiful crockery. She had a beautiful home. She had beautiful friends. Changbin was funnier than you expected — Hyunjin had never talked about his humour before, and you were glad you were discovering it on your own now. He was also touchy, he’d find excuses to touch Hyunjin and Jisung every now and then, a giggle on his face when they unwittingly pushed him away. You’d only been here a few hours, but watching their dynamic unfolding was wonderful.

After Hanbin and Seonmi had left, you’d moved over to the couch, which was much more comfortable than your earlier seat, and Hyunjin had surprisingly stayed where he was…which happened to be right next to you. He was manspreading, leaning against the couch arm, a drink in his hand. The music playing was much softer now, so it was easier to have the conversations and listen to them, and Jisung was playing the piano again quietly. Kairi animatedly explained something to him, and Chan was just listening with a smile on his face, while he stroked her back. They were so cute it made you want to die. You snuck glances at Hyunjin to your right, every now and then. He was still calm as ever, but his cheeks were red from all the drinking. His hair was messier too, and it made him look hotter than you could ever imagine. It was hard to look him in the eye, when he looked this good, so you focused on everything else. You were so engaged in another one of Changbin’s crazy stories, you didn’t realize when you reached to pull your dress down, you accidentally put your hand on Hyunjin’s thigh.

You don’t know what you were thinking. You’d severely miscalculated the distance between you. It was only for a second, but he noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. Instantly, he tensed up, pausing in the middle of his sip. You wondered if he’d push it away. If he’d tell you to stop, or ask what you were doing. Instead, he lift the drink to his mouth like nothing happened. You pulled your hand back before anybody else noticed. It was only an accident after all.

Changbin’s attention was all on you; he’d been telling you about his favorite records and artists in the music industry. He was enjoying the strawberry tart Hyunjin baked, leaving crumbs behind, and paused to ask you, “So now that you’ve been here a while, what’s your favorite place in the city?” You tilt your head, mulling over it, “I’ll have to think about that…I haven’t seen all of it yet.”

“Nobody’s seen all of it, Y/N” Jisung rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a laugh, “Even though some of us have been here our whole lives.”

That was hard for you to comprehend. You knew every inch of Daejon, every rock, every tree, each house. You’d eaten at every restaurant, shopped in every boutique, and knew everybody. “This might be a stupid question but do you never feel like exploring more of it?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, “It’s not really possible. Nobody has the time or the energy, or the money.”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin spoke, surprising you. You glanced at him, and he paused from drinking to address you, “I feel that…people here get stuck in their little convenient routines and never feel a want for more.”

Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”

He swirled the drink in his glass, “So many people here…get so comfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort, but when you live in a city like this…I don’t understand. They only go to the same coffee shop for fifty years, the same restaurants, not really trying anything new.”

“I hate that.” You spoke up, before he’d even finished speaking. You hated the idea of that, of an endless routine, and an unchanging life. It was one of the few things in life you were sure about. Hyunjin was looking at you and only you, as he spoke, “I know. So many people here…build their life around a few places, and those places become their life. Even though the city is so much bigger than that, and I guess I hate…the idea of settling for whatever there is.” 

Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”

A tissue box lay on the end table next to Hyunjin. Turning back to the room, you asked, “Is it okay if I have the last piece of the pastry?” It was a unanimous yes, and when you bit into the tart, little crumbs fell to your thighs, and between your thighs. It was a mess so naturally, you said, “Sorry, could you pass me that, Hyunjin?”

He looked around, noticing the only thing next to him, the box of tissues. He nodded, “Yeah, of course” and reached in for a few, passing them to you. You took them from him, fingers brushing against his. Your stomach flipped at the sensation. His hand was so warm, and your fingers lingered on his a while longer — as long as you could without making it weird. Then, you simply wiped away the crumbs from your thighs, drawing Hyunjin’s brief attention to them. After all, you’d only been this messy with the pastry so you’d have an excuse to talk to him.

You wonder if he picked up on that. You hadn't been too subtle about it, being as messy as you could possibly be just so he'd have an excuse to give you the tissues. Hyunjin was so close to you, after being so out of reach. Being in the same room as him wasn’t enough, sitting on the same couch as him wasn’t enough. You wanted to touch him, be on him, and for him to be on you. You did feel kind of insane, but this was so much more than how crushes or boyfriends had ever made you feel. The desire you felt...you never even knew that was humanely possible. You were so lost in him, and his warm body sitting next to yours that you wouldn’t notice even if the room around you disappeared completely. Still, you owed something to the rest so you asked, “Um, what about you Changbin? What’s your favorite place?” 

He lift his glass up, a wide grin on his face, “That’s easy. The recording studio.” Chan laughed, picking up on your conversation, “I second that answer.”

They really loved what they did. You wonder why your favorite place wasn’t automatically the painting studio. Shouldn’t it be that, seeing as to how that was your biggest purpose in life? But ever since the past few weeks, you dreaded returning to a studio. The thought made your stomach sink. If you weren’t an artist, what even were you? It sent you into a spiral, and you were dissociating from this party, just thinking about it.

“You okay?”

You could drown in the softness of that voice. A gentle touch to your shoulder, and you looked at Hyunjin as he lowered his voice, asking again, “You feel fine?”

You nodded, gripping your dress tightly, “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”

“Good, or bad?” He whispered, not wanting to interrupt all of the conversations in the room. You stared at him, “I don’t know. Bad.”

“Do you want to step out of here?” He asked. He was so attentive. Maybe he could be the solution for your predicament too. You shook your head, “I want to ask you something but it’s kind of…random.”

“I’m listening.” He spoke, an amused smile on his features. You swallowed, fiddling with the glass in your lap, and it was easy to filter out every noise in the room when he was next to you, “We always talked about painting together. Would you still be up for something like that? Or…are you too busy with your schedule?”

“If that’s something you want to do, we can do it together.” He replied, “I have a personal studio…you could come to my place, or…I could come to yours.”

“Maybe I should come to yours. I…wanna see your room too.” You spoke. He cracked a smile, “We can make that happen.”

In the midst of all this, you shifted, absentmindedly inching closer to Hyunjin on the couch, until your leg was completely touching his. You felt like a school girl finding excuses to touch her crush, and even just this little touch sent fireworks in your belly. He didn’t move away this time either, and that was a triumph in your book. He just sent you a comforting smile. Of course, the bubble popped, and Jisung said something, pulling your attention back to him, “You should really visit our recording studio, Y/N. I think you’d appreciate the…precision and organisation of everything.” 

“How do you know that’s something I like?” You laughed. He shrugged, “I’ve only known you for a few hours, but you definitely give off that vibe.”

“Well, that’s pretty accurate, I’d say,” Kairi laughed, then looked to you, “I think you’d appreciate the way Chan organized my record collection.”

“You have a record collection?” You were surprised. She rolled her eyes, “Of course I do. I’m pretentious like that.”

“I can show you. They’re right by the TV.” Chan proposed, standing up. You didn’t want to leave Hyunjin’s side and warmth, but you didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, so you stood up, “I’d love that.” It was in the same room, so at least you wouldn’t be too far from Hyunjin, and Chan began showing you the TV cabinet and how he’d arranged all the records in order of release and by band. He was giggling, explaining something, and you told him how much this reminded you of Yeonjun - he also had a similar collection of DVDs. Chan’s eyes lit up at that. He was surprised that people still bought DVDs, and you mentioned that he should meet Yeonjun. It was a crazy thing to suggest, but you didn’t think too much of it. Your two worlds colliding. You think they’d like each other. Thinking of it, Chan would probably like Felix, too. As he sifted through the records, you glanced back over to the couch where Hyunjin and Jisung were having an animated conversation. He seemed so happy, laughing loudly, eyes crinkling. You’d missed seeing him like that. You’d been getting used to meeting the tense version of him, and this was a welcome change. Around the people he loved, he seemed like the truest version of himself.

You wanted to catch a subtle glance at him for another split-second. But you caught so much more. He was staring at you. He was speaking to someone but his gaze kept flickering back to you, and he wasn’t even subtle about it. At least you had tried to not be so obvious, but he was blatantly checking you out. His gaze would flicker from his friends, to you, to your dress, to your legs. It made you feel dizzy, and you tried to not react.

You couldn’t still be upset at him for what happened all those weeks ago. He’d apologized, and he already said it was the hardest thing he had done. He had more than made up for it, hadn’t he? He had convinced you to stay. You’d tried so hard to move on, to force feelings for others, you’d kissed another boy, but it was impossible. Ever since he left Daejon…you’d tried to not think about him, but he was everywhere and in everything you saw. In your good moments, and in your bad. Even after he broke your heart, he was all around you.

Chan started telling you about his favorite records, and you got lost in the conversation until Kairi called him back, whining cutely from the empty armchair. So with a few top-tier record recommendations by Chan, you made your way back to the couch, and Hyunjin was still laughing over a silly joke. He shifted so you could sit, and as soon as you did, he asked you, “Find anything you liked?”

“Quite a few. I’m excited to hear them.”

And just like that, with a small smile and a nod, Hyunjin’s hand moved to your bare thigh. Your dress had ridden up as soon as you’d sat back down, and he had jumped at the opportunity with no hesitation. Your heart raced at the realisation. Anybody could see this, but he didn’t seem to care. He inched upwards, settling comfortably on your upper thigh, right where the hem of your dress ended. It sent a wave of arousal though you. Jisung began speaking again. Trying to be nonchalant was hard, when your heart was jumping up and down at this little development. A part of you was so happy he’d forgotten any and all unsaid boundaries that he had set himself months ago. Things had changed with him, and you wanted to dig into his brain to find out what led to this behaviour. What happened to not wanting you, to not taking risks, to not wanting a relationship or love? 

The others didn’t seem to care that Hyunjin was touching you so openly, or that he’d completely checked out of the conversation. He was too preoccupied with touching you. His thumb drew circles on your bare skin, and it was comforting, it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but how could it also not be? You’d been starved for this, so you couldn’t help the sensations through you at his simple touch. Chan spoke to you again, “You should really come to the building. We can show you around. Eunwoo would probably be okay with it.”

You guessed that Eunwoo was their manager’s name, and you supposed that Chan was directing that to Hyunjin, but Hyunjin had completely stopped participating in this discussion, forgetting that he held a purpose to this gathering other than touching you like this. But no purpose could be greater than that, could it? 

Each circle he traced sent a shiver down your spine, strokes of lightning down your thigh, between your legs. Jisung started talking about something else, and you couldn’t keep track. You were lightheaded. You were dying. Each second that Hyunjin’s thumb brushed against your thigh, you screamed a bit inside. He was so nonchalant with it, holding your leg at a party like you were his. You were his. Despite everything. His metallic rings were cold on your skin, and Hyunjin's hands slipped between your thighs. All of his friends were here, but nobody was looking at that. Hyunjin was talking to Chan, smiling occasionally, and groping your thigh at the same time. You wish he'd never stop. It was so fucking hot. Your head was spinning, and your heart felt like it might collapse from beating too fast. It couldn’t be normal for it to pound so loudly in your chest. Could everyone in this room hear you? Could they hear the insanity within you for him? Why couldn’t he should just drop this charade, take you away and fuck you right now?

A drink. You needed a drink. You interrupted the conversation, perhaps speaking far too loudly, “Han, could you please pass me the bottle of wine?”

Han nodded, reaching over with the bottle clumsily, and it was fine until it wasn’t. He was too drunk and preoccupied as he handed it to you. The wine spilled over, landing right on your lap and soaking your dress. “Fuck!” Jisung exclaimed, standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

Hyunjin pulled his hand back from your thigh, at the sudden sensation. It was like a cold shower, snapping you out of your daze. The liquid ruined your dress, and it was an expensive one, but it wasn’t Jisung’s fault. You wouldn’t blame him when it was entirely your fault. You didn’t want to disrupt the party, so you quickly stood up, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Kairi, who’d vaguely registered that this had happened, “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?”

“No, it should be fine. Excuse me…” You made your way out of the living room. You went up the stairwell, the music fading in the background. Your heels were muffled on the carpeted staircase, and your legs felt shaky. Jisung had informed you the bathroom was to the right. You stepped in, catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Your hair was messier than it should be, but it was still fine. You hadn’t drank anything in the past few hours, but you definitely felt drunk. Opening the faucet, you splashed droplets of water onto your dress. The wine had completely spread out, staining the skirt, and your only respite was that it was red wine on a red dress. You braced yourself against the countertop, letting out a sigh, wondering if this had been a stupid idea.

A soft knock pulled you out of your despair.

“Come in.” You unlocked the door to Hyunjin standing there. He was leaning against the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets, “Hey…you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to your dress, “What’s the verdict? Will the dress survive?”

“You tell me.” You laughed, lifting it up to show him the wine stain. He grimaced, “Shit. You need help?” You didn’t. After all, what could he do that you couldn’t? But you nodded, “Yeah”

He stepped in. The bathroom was tiny. It was cute, with a marble countertop and Kairi clearly had a flair for decoration. Hyunjin pushed his sleeves up, wetting his hands in the sink and grabbed the hem of your dress, fingers rubbing at the stain. He was bent over, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated. He must be trying a new cologne. His scent was so strong, infiltrating your brain, your body, your being. It was sexy, and it was so him. It didn’t help how dizzy you felt.

“I don’t think it's going to come out.” You said truthfully, so he wouldn’t engage in a losing battle. He seemed determined though, “I’m sorry. Jisung can be…such a klutz sometimes.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” You said, as Hyunjin suggested, “There must be something in the cabinet that would help, like a wine stain remover or something.”

“I doubt it.” You laughed, leaning against the counter and Hyunjin dejectedly let go of your skirt. He was frowning, a stupid pout on his pretty face, “It’s a shame… That’s a beautiful dress.”

You smiled, accepting this loss and crossed your arms, “Don’t worry too much. It’s only temporary. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“Maybe I can step into Kairi’s closet, and grab you another dress?” He suggested. You shook your head before he could finish, “You don’t need to do that for me.”

Yet he was about to leave, determined to get you out of this sticky situation. A surge of panic rose through you. You grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him back in, “Wait, Hyunjin.”

He stumbled back to you, confused, “Yeah?”

Your voice fell to a lower tone, a little embarrassed at your urgency, “Don’t go just yet.”

His eyes met yours, an intense look in them, “Why?”

Your eyes closed, and you were still gripping onto his sweater, “My head is spinning.”

“You drank too much?” He realised. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was much closer than you’d anticipated, “I guess I was trying to deal with being in the same room as you.” You joked, with a dry chuckle. He seemed amused, “You really can’t stand me that much?”

You bit your lip, glancing up at him, wondering if he missed all the obvious signs tonight, “You know that’s not true.”

“And I know that your head’s not really spinning.” He said without pause. You frowned, straightening up, “How could you possibly know that?”

His lips curled up, and he could probably hear your pounding heart, “You didn’t even have a single sip tonight. I was looking at you the entire night.”

So he noticed that all you drank was water tonight, but you had to keep up appearances, “You’re accusing me of lying?”

“Maybe you’re just trying to keep me in here with you.”

Your voice dropped, “Why would I do that, Hyunjin?”

His eyes crinkled, an amused expression on his face which was so cocky that it pissed you off and turned you on at the same time. He said, “I don’t claim to know your secret agenda.”

“I don’t have an agenda.”

He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips, “Spilling wine on yourself on purpose sure makes it seem like you have one.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasped, laughing in disbelief at his accusation, “Why would I do something so stupid?”

“Because you knew I’d follow you.” He gripped the marble counter behind you, caging you between his arms. You lost your words, heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly reality was settling in. He was closer to you every second, and you could see every detail on his face - you could see yourself in his eyes, and his lips were so close to to being on yours. The situation seemed all too familiar, and you had to think straight. You couldn’t let yourself be driven by lust again, you couldn’t just be conveniently kissing him, no matter how much you wanted it, without knowing what it meant to him. You mumbled, hands reaching up to his chest, like a physical barrier between your bodies, and it took you strength to do and say so, “Hyunjin…you can’t kiss me if you’re just going to leave again.”

His voice was soft, “I think for me to leave you tonight, someone would have to kill me."

Something in you shifted, and your body was buzzing and tingly all over. He never had trouble leaving you before so you couldn't understand, “What... changed?”

He paused, as if finding the right words, “Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”

His gaze fixated on yours, like he could see right through you, into your soul, and maybe he could this entire time. Maybe that’s why everything he spoke was thoughts you’d kept hidden, and every touch felt like coming home. When he was gone, he was everywhere too. If you ever needed more of a sign...then this was it. There were so much you could say to him in that moment, but you just settled for saying, “You were right.” 

He was incapable of looking in your eyes, gaze fixated on your lips, “About what—?” And in the same second, you pulled him to you, unable to keep any of this charade up longer, fists knotted in his shirt, crushing his lips to yours. 

A surprised noise left his mouth at your urgency but Hyunjin was a lover before he was anything else and so he recovered within seconds, grabbing your face to kiss you back. His grip was tight, and desperate, and you pushed him until he was against the door. His lips tasted of a strange combination of red wine and of strawberry tart, and he pressed his mouth to yours so hard it could bruise, one hand around your neck, the other gripping your jaw, and it wasn't enough. He only pulled back to breathe, and let out a breathless chuckle, “I was right about what?”

“I did drop the wine on purpose.” You admitted, wondering his reaction, but he just immediately grabbed you again, crushing your mouths together again. It was stupid but you just needed to be alone with him, and it was the only way you could think of. He laughed in between the kiss, “That’s so stupid.” He pressed you to the counter, hands tight on your waist, knocking over whatever Kairi had so perfectly curated on the countertop. Your head spun with desire, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He accommodated you so easily, tilting his head to kiss you better, falling back into this rhythm like it was natural to your body. You let go of his shirt, leaving it crinkled, so you could tug at his hair. His hands were everywhere. Around your neck, in your hair, at your waist. He groaned, pulling away for a second to mumble, “I missed you so much. You could have just asked me... And I thought I did stupid things to get your attention.”

“I missed you too.” You breathed, hands resting at the nape of his neck, sifting through his hair as you looked up at him, doe eyes, and since he wanted you to ask him, you would, “Please kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to yours and grinning into the kiss. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, and you tugged at them, trying to unbutton it. He must have sensed your urgency, a whine mixed in between your pecks, so he grabbed your thighs, lifting you onto the marble countertop. He didn’t stop kissing you for a second, fingers skimming your skin, sending a rush through your body, and his tongue slipped into your mouth again, and you wish you could swallow each other whole.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so reminiscent of the first time you’d kissed him. It had been on a night like tonight, and the longing had built up so much it was pouring out of you. All of this pining certainly couldn’t be good for the two of you by the roughness of your touches, like you were both afraid to be pulled away from each other. You tugged at his sweater, pushing it up to his chest, so you could touch his skin. Your hands were cold, and he shivered at the touch, but he didn’t stop you, kissing your jaw at the same time you felt him up. Your head tilted to the ceiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, you let your hands explore his body, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and tightening your hold on him. He was so compliant. He was so desperate. You felt him undo your bow, unzipping the dress. A fire burned within you, and his name was a familiar moan on your lips, “Hyun…”

“Yes, baby?” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth and his face was covered in your red lipstick. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. A giggle escaped you, and you brushed your thumb against his lips, “You have some of me on you.”

He shook his head, unbothered, leaning in to kiss you again, “I have all of you in me.”

It meant something deeper than red lipstick. It meant so much that you could probably wonder about it for days, but you just grabbed his face in your hands, cupping his soft cheeks. All of him was in you too. He was a part of who you were, and you couldn’t recall a time before Hyunjin in your life. He kissed your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck. It was hard to think straight when his mouth was sucking on you, and the bulge in his pants was pressing against you. You're sure Kairi kept a condom in here somewhere. You would let him fuck you. Right here. Right now. But a familiar worry festered within you, and it was physically impossible to pull back from the kiss as you whispered, “Wait.. you’re sure about doing this?”

He opened his eyes to look at you, and he looked so lovesick, eyes-half lidded, breathing heavy, hair messy and your spit and lipstick coating his lips, “About what?”

You touched his face, tracing your fingers over his cheeks and his pretty mouth, tracing it all to memory again after it had been ripped away from you for all this time. Perhaps you were ruining the passion of the moment, but you couldn’t let yourself go through that heartbreak again, “I don't want you to regret this. You said you didn’t want to start something that could put you…or the band at risk. So are you sure about…what we’re doing?”

It seemed to be Hyunjin’s biggest fear — a relationship, falling in love, somebody finding out about you. His company. His managers. His fans. The press. The rest of the world. 

“I was sure the minute I asked you to stay, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing you again, “You’re…everything to me.”

The confession seemed drastic from the Hyunjin who had pushed you away countless times, from the Hyunjin who kissed you only to tell you he could never want a relationship. Yet you still didn’t know what he actually wanted. Would he wake up and regret this? He kissed the corner of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of you, squeezing you in his grip, and said, “I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”

His words implied a sense of… inevitability and fate. You were doomed for him too. No matter what pulled you apart, something pushed you together always. It felt like an endless cycle…a trajectory you two were on that neither of you could control. Your eyes widened, and you'd never been this happy, “You’re…not just saying this because you’re drunk?”

He smiled at your words, cupping your face, “I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”

His eyes seemed so sincere, so genuine and you whispered, “So…what are we doing to do now?”

“I guess... now we have to go back downstairs, because our friends are waiting for us…and you’re still soaked in wine.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and he pulled you closer, like he didn't want to let you go.

“Right…” You trailed off, tightening your grip on him, “That’s probably what we should do.”

“Yeah. That’s the right thing to do.” He mumbled, but he was already eating up his own words, swallowing your breath, and pressing you to the mirror. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer in a starved, hungry kiss and it didn’t feel humanely possible to be closer than this. He let out a moan, pressing kisses to your lips, “Fuck, I missed you so fucking much.”

You nodded, matching his every frenzied kiss, “Me too. I want you so bad.”

This rush. It seemed to always consume you, and Hyunjin squeezed your tits through your dress, pushing the skirt up and you were both losing control again. He pulled back, restraining himself, “I…we shouldn’t do this here.”

He said that, but he still kept kissing you, and this was a vicious cycle you would always find yourself in. You had wanted him for so long that you didn’t care where you were, but surely…this wasn’t the place. Your first time being that intimate with him shouldn’t be on top of a marble bathroom countertop, with so much opportunity to be interrupted by your friends. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure if you continued. You pulled back from the kiss too, “I think somebody needs to physically separate us for that to work.”

He laughed, and his voice was hoarse from all the kissing, and his lips were swollen. You were capable of waiting a while, instead of jumping each others bones right now. You were both adults, and you could restrain yourself. It was hard to take him seriously with imprints of your lipstick on his mouth. It made him look romantic. It made him look like yours. You wish you covered all of him in it, lip prints over his whole body, leaving no spot un-kissed. You’d missed him so much, it just felt dumb to stop now, but you did. He breathed in, calming himself, “You’re right. We…don’t have to rush.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I want to rush though.”

He laughed, fingers caressing your jaw so softly, “I just…I have to ask you something, before we go back downstairs—”

“Yes?”

“I know that I’ve acted stupidly about this in the past, but when I told you all those things, when I said that it’s a risk, that’s still true, Y/N. It’s still dangerous. You don’t know how wild it can get, if…anybody finds out about you. People are just looking for an opportunity to hurt us, me, the other guys, and…if you’re around me, then that includes you too. I can’t let anything happen to you, or hurt you. I would never forgive myself.” Hearing him talk made you afraid again. This was where it had always ended. This would be the last thing Hyunjin would always say to you, after kissing you. It always ended here, like a dead-end to your perfect dream, and you dreaded his next words, heart pounding like you'd pass out. You expected it.

But instead he said, “I want you. So much. I know that now, that nothing can replace the feeling of you.”

Your eyes were wide, and this was already a different direction than it. had ever gone last time, “What are you saying, Hyunjin?”

“I’m saying that…if we…really do this, there’s going to be a lot of…discretion. It’s probably going to be difficult and frustrating as fuck, and we’re both going to have to be really careful. Is that… really okay with you?”

You understood what Hyunjin was asking you. If you and him were to be together, it could only be a thing of secrecy. 

It wouldn’t be a relationship you dreamed of. Nothing about it would be normal, or usual. It would only exist behind closed doors, and in storage closets, and in the privacy of your bedrooms. If you and him were to continue this…it would always have to stay a secret. 

It would be hard to restrain your love for him, but in all honesty… you had done nothing else since you were fifteen and saw him in the art shop. You had loved him since then, and you could love him in any circumstance, even if it was in secret. Going back to not having him in your life was impossible. You leaned in to kiss him, to remind yourself of how real this was, and how much he was worth to you. An excitement bloomed in your chest from what was to come as you whispered against his lips, “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m good at keeping secrets.”

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #skz x reader #fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #fanfiction #skz imagines #star lost with you

[hihhasotherfixations]

Tattoo Blossom - Price x Reader | Part 1

AU where your soulmate’s injuries appear on your skin like a blooming flower tattoo.

Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you @flop101 for helping me come up with the idea for this soulmate au!

CW: None. Reader has no gender specified. Slight talk of injury.

Word Count: 6087

It always started with a sudden pressure.

Sitting at work, you groaned softly as you lifted your hand, pressing it on your left sternum to alleviate the pain.

“Y/N, you alright?” Your coworker asked as they leaned over and you sent them a smile you didn’t really mean.

“Just fine, don’t worry. I’m… just gonna head to the restroom.” With that, you stood up from your chair and hurriedly walked across the office, towards the toilets.

Once inside, you made a beeline for the mirrors, unbuttoning your shirt slightly before pulling the fabric away from your sternum.

Right there, perfectly above the bone, sat a small black and white bud. It was small and tear drop-shaped, just like every flower started out as. It made it impossible to tell what type of flower it was yet.

Sighing softly, you thumbed over the imprint on your skin, a worry line present in the creasing of your brow.

“What did you do this time…” Muttering it softly, your eyes glazed over as you looked at the small tattoo.

Somewhere in the world, your soulmate had gotten hurt again. And while you had a beautiful, black outlined flower bud, he most likely had a gaping wound.

Closing your eyes, you let your shirt fall back into place. You just hoped the flower would bloom soon. After all, the bud becoming a flower signified his healing - his wound becoming a scar. And you’d be glad once it was in full bloom, meaning he was fully healed. And you’d also be able to see what you’d add to the collection.

After all, not every flower was the same kind.

From the myriad of them that littered your body, each one seemed to correspond to a specific sort of injury.

You’d read somewhere once that that’s where flowers got their meanings from. The reason for an injury.

You’d figured out some. How could you not?The petals covered you from chest to toe - thankfully avoiding your face for now - so of course you’d get curious.

They sprouted all over your body, some small, some larger. There was even a row of them on your forearm.

While most flowers were different however, there were those that repeated. And the most frequent were the Tansy’s.

You’d looked it up once. Tansy’s were flowers that signified hostile thoughts and the declaring of war.

Whatever else you held on your body, at least these flowers gave an answer. Whoever your soulmate was, wherever he was, he was at war.

And he’d been so for the past 19 years.

- - - - -

John Price often forgot he had a soulmate.

Only about 20% of the population did and with his busy life, thinking about that little flower on the back of his right ankle was far from the forefront of his mind.

It was easier to forget. Not only to hide his heartache but also to hide his guilt.

After all, what use was a soulmate if all they did was paint your skin against your will. Filling in your body with marks and filling up your mind with worry over what your soulmate did to get wounded so much.

So instead, John chose to forget. To leave the guilt and want out and instead focus on the missions in front of him. None of the boys in the task force knew, not even Nikolai knew. Laswell had only found out several years ago when he’d joined her and her wife for a camping trip.

Purely by accident too.

The three of them had been hiking when John’s boot slipped in a mud puddle, causing his ankle to make a very dangerous move to the side. Cursing and hissing, he’d limped over to a dry patch and taken off his boot, yanking his sock down to inspect his ankle, only to be stared in the face with the flower he’d done so well to forget until then. Right in Laswell’s sight.

The rest of that trip had soured explicitly for the SAS captain, constantly hounded with questions by Laswell’s wife - who seemed rather enthused - while the woman herself berated him every step of the way.

Now however, he was back in England, having just returned from killing Hassan and stopping a missile.

Sitting on a chair, he was struggling with putting on his boot, hissing with every move of his left arm that caused the gunshot by his sternum to scream in pain.

“Y’alright, cap?” Soap’s voice piped up as he leaned back on the couch, looking at the man while Ghost pushed the Scot’s legs off of himself in irritation (it was a dangerous game Johnny was playing.)

“Need some help?” Gaz now asked, standing in the doorway and Price looked up, glaring at the two men. Though he knew it came from a place of concern, it highly wounded his pride.

“And have either of you blokes tie my shoe like I’m some kid?” He scoffed, not gracing them with another look as he focused on the blasted boot again.

“There’s many more reasons to tie someone’s shoe.” Gaz protested, displeased by his captain’s stubbornness.

“Like what?”

“Like when your missus does it for you!” Soap piped up with a wide grin, getting a glare from Gaz for having his point interrupted, though Price just deadpanned.

“So a mother and a missus can tie a shoe and I have neither, how nice.” He rumbled back, slamming his foot down now to try and get his heel down into it, properly annoyed.

“Ah, that’s-“ Before Soap could continue to horribly try and rectify what he brought into the world, Ghost smacked him on the back of his head.

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“What I was trying to say.” Gaz stepped in before it could turn into a fight. “None of us will think any different of you if you ask for help every once in a while. Especially when you’re injured.” The sergeant tried but right then, Price managed to get the boot on, quickly tying it as best as he could with his limited movement.

“Well, I got it. So thanks a lot, lads, but no need.” The man hummed as he got up, grunting a bit as he accidentally strained the muscles of his shoulder. “Let’s get going, I need that drink.”

- - - -

“I’m really not feeling up for this.” You sighed softly, holding your shirt up to your chest.

For the past ten or so minutes, you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror, your eyes grazing over every flower that littered your body.

The large snapdragon in your side, the holly’s in your right thigh and abdomen, the hyssops marking three places on your torso, the anemone in the middle of your chest, the chain of several lily’s below your elbow. Not even to mention the tansy’s that sprouted everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your shoulders, your arms.

And now the beginning bloom of a new flower above your sternum. All you could think about was how your soulmate had been injured again.

And how you feared the day that the flowers would wilt.

To you, the tattoos on your skin were a blessing and a curse. You didn’t mind them. It showed you had someone out there who was perfect for you - a missing puzzle piece you could slot together with. Not everyone got that privilege.

But who was to say you’d ever meet them? And while every flower that showed up was beautiful, it signalled your soulmate being hurt. And given you were almost entirely sure he was in the army, it meant those injuries were usually bad. You almost didn’t dare to count the amount of gunshot wounds, signified on your body as a singular small flower - so long as it didn’t have an exit point.

“Y/N, come on!” It was your friend pounding her fist on your bedroom door that made you snap out of your reverie. “You’ve been stuck at work for too long. You need a night out.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the red shirt you’d been holding over your head. It had sleeves reaching until halfway down your forearm, hiding almost all the flowers on your torso save for a single lily on your left arm. About two third’s of it showed while the rest of the chain was hidden. That was one of the largest patches of flowers and you’d long since given up trying to hide it.

Throwing on some jeans to match, you then swung the door open before Sarah could bash her fist into it again - which was an accurate thought as she stood there with her arm raised, ready to raise hell.

“Oh!” She startled before looking you over and groaning. “Again?” She whined, picking at your sleeve and letting it snap back against your arm.

“Ow, hey.” You chuckled, slapping her hand away before crossing your arms. “I’m not gonna flaunt myself in front of an entire bar. Leave me alone.” Shaking your head in amusement, you walked past her, making her fall into step behind you.

“You’re in your thirties and yet still you’re saving yourself like a nun. For a soldier? Didn’t he just give you a new one yesterday?” She whined and you sent an unimpressed look back over your shoulder, raising a brow.

“Ah yes, because he was given a gunshot wound as well.”

“There!” Sarah pointed at you as if to say ‘aha’. “You immediately know it’s a gunshot wound. Like how bad is that?”

“Just as bad as this miniskirt.” You grinned, poking her hip.

Gasping a little, she jumped away. “My skirt is not bad! I can wear what I want!” She protested and you gave her a smug look.

“Exactly.” After that however, you calmed a bit and grabbed her hand, running your thumb over it. “I don’t think it right to display someone else’s injuries. It’s a private thing, something he probably doesn’t want to talk about.”

“You’re too good for whoever this guy is.”

Laughing at Sarah’s pout, you swung your arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go get that drink then, hm? Get your mind off of me and my depressing ‘love’ life.”

Crossing her arms, she let you drag her away to the door, never letting up on her pout. “Fine.”

With that, the two of you headed out and towards the nearest pub, laughing and joking as you walked - after all, driving was out of the option for what you were planning for the evening.

- - - -

It was a lot busier in the bar than you’d expected.

Some type of football game was on and people had come out en masse to celebrate together, which left the large room stuffed relatively full with people.

Stumbling over to the bar with your best friend, you by some miracle managed to snatch two spots.

Sitting up on the high chairs, you both ordered a drink before settling into comfortable conversation.

“See anyone you fancy?”

Sarah’s sudden question had you spluttering into your glass before you glared at her. “Really?”

Blinking innocently, she just smiled at you and you playfully rolled your eyes. “I see someone you might fancy.” At that, she frowned and you nodded your head to something behind her.

Getting the hint, she turned around to see a man looking at her. Right as she crossed eyes though, he quickly looked away and she turned back to face you with a slight blush. “Alright so maybe you know my type.”

“Heads up.” You smirked as you watched him get up, goaded on by his friends and Sarah widened her eyes before quickly fixing her hair.

“I look okay?”

“You look great.” You chuckled, bumping your knee into her before turning to face the wood of the bar top right as Sarah turned around to greet the man.

Though you came here to have some fun together, you knew Sarah was a huge flirt. You also didn’t mind, perfectly content to enjoy a drink with your thoughts and people watching.

So, leaving her to her devices, you just politely tuned out the conversation on your right while smiling to yourself. Maybe this time, the man was a keeper.

-

“Excuse me?”

A good twenty minutes passed before the sudden words made you blink out of your thoughts, looking left to see a man about your age looking at you, a polite look on his face.

“Mind if I scoot in?” He asked kindly and you looked around, realising the entire bartop was filled with people.

“No, of course.” Smiling back at him, you scooted your chair right to make some room for him, which he quickly took as he stepped up and flagged down a bartender.

He had a pleasant look to him; head hidden under a black beanie, a weathered but kind face and muttonchops that fit him strangely well.

Thinking not much of it, you rolled your glass between your hands a bit, turning your brain off as you watched the bartender make… what was it- four drinks for the man?

Your gaze drifted a bit back and forth after that, until suddenly, a crash sounded to your left and a cold sensation splashed onto your arm.

“Oh-!” Yipping that out in surprise, you looked wide eyed to see the man frown down at the small tray he was trying to balance with one hand, one of the drinks fallen over and the contents dripping onto your arm.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” The man sent you an apologetic look as he quickly set the tray back on the bartop, to which you quickly waved him away.

“It just caught my sleeve, it’s okay!” You smiled, looking down at your arm to see the wet stain in the fabric. “I’ll just-“

“Here, let me.” He reached over the bar to his left - strangely enough using his right hand for it - and pressed some tissues to your soaked forearm.

“Ah, thank you.” You hummed, seeing him give you a tiny smile before his attention was taken by the bartender who placed a new glass in front of him which he paid for.

Quickly thanking the bartender, the man then briefly put his hand on your arm. “So sorry again. Have a good evening.” With a polite nod, he pulled away and slid the tray from the bar top into his hand - more careful this time - before he balanced it and made his way deeper into the pub.

Not thinking anything of it, you reached forward to nurse your own glass once more when a heat suddenly spread across your arm.

Frowning, you looked down. Was that drink he spilled hot? No, you distinctly felt it being cold just now.

Reaching down, you pinched your sleeve between your fingers, feeling how damp it was, yet all of a sudden, your heart seemed to stop as your eyes focused on what was going on on your skin behind your fingers.

There, on your arm, blossoming with heat, sat your lily. Your orange lily.

Breathing shallowly, you mindlessly reached back, slapping in the general direction of your best friend, managing to whack her on the back as she was still chatting up the man.

“Y/N, what-“ Her annoyed hiss was cut off when she saw you staring, wide eyed and almost panicked at your arm, where your flower was now nearly a bright orange - the colour almost completely faded in. “I- Oh my god!”

Loudly crying that out, the bar seemed to stop for a second as those around turned in concern, only for your friend to jump up from her stool and drag you down with it to hug you, jumping and laughing excitedly, putting the people back at ease as they continued their conversations.

“Please, keep your voice down!” You panicked but she seemed nonplussed as she pulled back and kept you at an arms length.

“Who is it! Who touched you? Y/N, your soulmate is here!” Her babbling didn’t stop as she pulled you closer and shook you by your shoulders before frantically looking around. “You do know who touched you, right?”

At that, you stopped briefly, your heart hammering as you turned around to look behind yourself, searching the crowd for the strange man with the black beanie and muttonchops.

It took a bit, but you eventually found him, tucked away nearly completely in the corner of the pub where he sat with his comrades, his back turned to where you were seated.

“Which one?” Your friend asked, trying to follow your line of sight and you bit your lip.

“Table of four. With the- with the hat.” You mumbled and she squinted, trying to find who you meant.

“I see no hat.”

“Black beanie.” You clarified and she squinted again, only to start slapping your arm.

“I see him, I see him!” She giggled before taking a closer look, humming in what seemed like approval. “He seems buff. Which makes sense if he’s in the military I guess, but look at those shoulders.”

Turning around, almost incredulous, you slapped her on the arm. “Would you stop ogling him!”

“You’re too much of a prude to do that, so I’m doing it for you.” She shrugged with a mischievous grin and you poked her side.

“Stop it.”

Giggling, she then slowly calmed down, her smile turning warm. Carefully, she moved to stand behind you, beginning to push you forward. “Go talk to him.” Her voice was soft in your ear and you felt your heart speed up.

“B-But-“

“If you don’t do it now, he might be gone.”

Just those words were enough to stop your struggling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Sarah smiled as she softly whispered that and you breathed out a shaky breath.

“I just…”

“I know.” She hummed comfortingly, turning you around to face her before cupping your face. “He’s your soulmate. That means he is the one for you, Y/N. No matter what, he’ll listen. I’m sure he will.”

“You are?” You asked, your eyes going a little foggy and Sarah smiled fondly, rubbing her thumb over the corner of your eye.

“He’s yours. I know what you’re like and the universe picked him out for you. He’ll listen.”

Nodding softly, you leaned forward and hugged your best friend, composing yourself before pulling back and huffing out a breath, feigning more confidence than you had.

“I can finally say: go get ‘em, tiger.” Sarah spoke from behind with a squeeze to your arm.

At that, a soft and pleasant laugh left you and you playfully punched her shoulder. “All this time and that is the best you can come up with?”

Rolling her eyes with a grin, she then twirled you around and pushed you forward, making you send a playful glare back at her to which she stuck out her tongue.

After that though, you looked forward, seeing him at the far back of the pub and your heart slowly started speeding up, realising that this was finally gonna be the moment.

Slowly, you began walking, weaving through the tables and other patrons of the pub until it was a straight shot to his table.

Walking up to him from behind, you could feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears, your nerves alight and almost painful as they battered in your chest and stomach.

Swallowing softly, you were hugging yourself, unconsciously covering up the now coloured flower as with each step closer, it almost felt like you were getting tunnel vision - purely focused on the back of his beanie-covered head.

It was said that the universe found a way to bring two soulmates into contact, but was this really it? Was this it or were you imagining things. Were you mistaken?

Though he might not have noticed your approach, the men he was sitting at the table with sure did.

One of them - a hulking figure wearing a balaclava - glanced up, locking eyes with you which snapped you out of your tunnel vision. He quickly glanced at your soulmate and back at you, some sort of unspoken signal as, before you knew it, the man with the beanie turned around, facing you.

It looked a little stiff as he did and you caught a glimpse of bandaging under his loose hanging shirt. On the left side, where your flower bud sat too.

His eyes locked with yours and with horror, you realised you had to speak. In his eyes, you’d just stalked up behind him and were now just standing there like a limp chair.

“Uhm, excuse me…” You started softly, feeling your heart thud at the lame start though you could see him smile politely. One that you would give to strangers when humouring them, which is exactly what you were.

“How can I help you, love? Is it the drink?” He spoke and you clenched your hands as you hugged yourself tighter, hearing his voice gravelly and deep yet sounding so soft at the same time.

“Uh, no… it-“ You started as you shook your head. Just then, you were bumped into from behind.

Stumbling a bit, you caught yourself and looked back, realising how full the pub was, how his friends all had their eyes on you, and you suddenly knew this was no place to drop the bomb of being soulmates.

“Could I… talk to you for a moment? Outside?” You asked, uncrossing your left arm and pointing behind yourself at the door, nervousness apparent in every fiber of your being.

It must have been evident to him too, seeing how skittish you were, yet you could still see an awkward frown briefly paint his face, seeming not very thrilled with that idea as you could already see the rejection on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry but I came here with these boys and I can’t really-“

“Please, it’s important.” You begged, sinking a bit through your knees in your desperation.

Narrowing his eyes, your soulmate looked back at the men who sat with him at the table, who all seemed either confused or distrusting of you. He then looked back at you and you could see an intelligence shining in him as he took you and the past two minutes in. “And it has to be me?” He asked, pointing at himself to which you fervently nodded.

“I just- I need to say a thing. But it has to be in private- but you can go back here as soon as you want to!” You blabbered and his features softened a bit.

“You’re not selling me on this very well.” He chuckled before scratching the side of his beard. “Look, I’m not looking for any… Y’know.” He awkwardly got out and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“No, no! It’s not like that, I promise!”

Sitting back a bit, he seemed to take you and your frantic response in for a second before sighing and nodding. “Alright.” With that, he pushed himself up from his chair, turning back to his table.

“Don’t take too long, cap. This drink ain’t gonna last much further and I’d like another.” A man with a Scottish accent to his left spoke with a grin.

‘Cap’ as you got from the Scot, rolled his eyes and pointedly shoved his own glass towards the man with the balaclava. “Touch my scotch and I’ll have your head, MacTavish. And buy your own drink for once.” With that, he pointedly turned around and faced you, motioning for you to lead the way. “Go on.”

Licking your teeth nervously, you nodded and turned around, weaving between the plethora of people and walking over towards the exit of the bar, stepping out into the night sky.

Goosebumps raised on your skin as you heard him step out beside you.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asked and you turned back, only managing to shake your head, to which he hummed as he pulled up a cigar and planted it between his lips, proceeding to grab a lighter from his pocket and lighting it. Yet you took note of how he pointedly only used his right arm. “What was it you needed?”

Turning to him, you stared into his eyes while he looked back, curiosity and wariness both evident while his face lit up with the soft glow from his cigar.

“Uhm… you touched me.”

At that, he coughed slightly, taking the smoke out of his mouth as he looked at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I-“ Too scared to say anything else, you just lifted your hand away from your arm, ceasing your self-hug for the first time since he noticed you. Carefully, you held it out to him, using the street light across the way to show the newfound colours.

Looking from your arm up at him, you saw he was looking down at the flowers. The orange lily blooming halfway up your forearm, still partially hidden by your sleeve.

His face was void of any expression, staying blank as he moved his cigar to his left hand before he slowly reached out with his right, grabbing hold of your forearm to inspect it, his thumb ever so lightly brushing over the tattoo before he glanced up at you.

His expression was still unreadable and you panicked despite Sarah’s reassurances. You didn’t want to be one of the sob stories where you found your soulmate but got rejected or not believed. “Y-You’re injured. Here, right?” You mumbled quickly, pulling down the neckline of your shirt a bit to show the slightly blooming bud above your sternum.

At that, the man seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in as realisation seemed to dawn on him.

His eyes widened as he let go of you, to which you panicked even more, raising your shirt over your stomach to reveal the snapdragon in your side - the other biggest patch of flowers you had. “Here, I have more, see?”

“Hey.” Speaking up, he quickly reached forward and pulled your hands away, tugging your shirt back down. “Hey, it’s okay. Just slow down for me, yeah?” He reassured, a calm and firm tone that had you taking the first proper breath of air in ten minutes.

“I’m sorry-“ You huffed out and his eyes crinkled softly as he briefly rubbed the side of your arm before stepping back.

“This is…” Cutting himself off, he seemed to shake any shock away, instead focusing back on your eyes. “Bloody hell.”

He just stared at you for a moment, taking a deep breath before he cleared his throat.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” He mused, sticking out his right hand. “My name’s John Price.”

Smiling a smile of relief, you put your hand in his. “Y/N L/N.” You introduced back and his smile grew a bit under his beard.

“Sorry for spilling my drink on you. And for the cold opening earlier.” He apologised as he let go but you quickly waved his statement away.

“Don’t worry about it! A stranger walks up to you and practically forces you outside with them? I’d freak.” You chuckled, rubbing your arm a bit awkwardly.

“You didn’t force me, don’t worry.” John reassured, only now seeming to remember he had a cigar as he took it from his incapacitated hand.

The movement caught your eye however and you frowned. “Does it hurt?” Your voice was soft as you asked him but he still heard.

Looking from where you were watching, down to his sternum, he hummed a bit. “Like a bitch, but nothing I haven’t been through before. Don’t worry.”

At that, you smiled a little sorrowful smile, whispering softly. “I know.”

Your words - just those two dreadful words - made John’s eyes widen as he glanced down at your arm again, a remorseful and almost pained look overtaking him.

Putting out his cigar, he gingerly moved his hand to your left arm before glancing up at you. “May I?”

You nodded and he took hold of your forearm, his left hand moving for the first time as he ever so carefully slid your sleeve up and past your elbow, revealing the entire string of lilies that stretched from the middle of your forearm, around and to below your elbow.

One lily now partially coloured orange.

“I’m so sorry for this.”

His apology took you by surprise and you looked up at his face, seeing his eyes purely focused on your arm. Slowly, you felt the slightest brush of a touch, followed immediately by a warmth crawling under your skin.

Glancing down, you saw his thumb gently moving back and forth over the partially coloured lily, specifically the part that was still just an outline.

It took a minute for it to react, the heat only growing under your skin the longer he held his thumb there and together, you watched in awe as slowly, the rest of the lily filled with colour, fading into existence on your skin.

Just then, his apology from before filled your mind and you spoke up, still keeping your eyes on where he was holding your arm. Seemingly too reserved to continue to fill the other lilies with colour.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked and he answered almost instantly - too fast.

“I fucked your body up for you.” He spoke, letting go of your arm as he cleared his throat. The harsh reality of his own conviction breaking the trance the coloured flower had put him in. “Because of me, you’re walking around with this.” He spoke, turning your arm a bit to show you yet you countered quick.

“So are you.” You spoke but he let out a wry chuckle at that, shaking his head.

“I chose to do what I do. My scars should be my burden to bear, not yours.” He sighed, an emotion swirling in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. He looked into yours like that for a second longer, almost as if to find something within you before he gave up and cast his eyes down. “I pay the price for my mistakes and I’ve accepted it. But I really wish I didn’t get a soulmate because of it. You don’t deserve this, love.”

“You don’t want a soulmate?” You asked softly, your eyebrows scrunching in worry and John quickly straightened himself.

“That’s not what I said.” He hushed you, holding up his hand. “Hell, I never thought love was in the cards for me until I saw that I was one of the few to get flowers.” Confessing that, he rubbed the back of his head, accidentally displacing his beanie a bit - which he took a second to fix.

“You have a flower?” You whispered softly, a strangely hopeful look in your eyes that made John’s heart beat just a bit faster.

“On my ankle.” He hummed, bringing his right foot just a little bit forward. Entranced, you brought your own forward as well, turning it around to show your bare ankle visible above your loafers. There, right above the heel sat the scar that ran from one end of your ankle to the other.

“I forgot I had that.” You whispered while John looked at the scar, smiling softly as he finally saw what he had mirrored on his body.

“I would show you the flower but I’m wearing quite the stubborn boot.” He chuckled as he turned it back and forth a bit for emphasis and you smiled, glancing up at his eyes again. “How’d you get it?”

At his question, a little blush bloomed on your cheeks that had John begging to see it more, now intrigued. “Ah, well funny thing.” You hummed, scratching at your neck awkwardly. “My friend let me try out his skateboard after I made a joke it didn’t seem so hard. I somehow tripped, broke it and sliced my ankle open on the pieces.”

It took only a second for John to suddenly burst out into laughter, your blush growing exponentially in both embarrassment as well as the realisation of how pleasant the sound was.

“D-Don’t laugh.” You weakly tried, though your own smile was tugging on your lips as he practically doubled over, looking down. “It’s not that funny.” You huffed in amusement though John stood up straight, shaking his head.

“That is the reason they’re bluebells?” He giggled out the last of his laughter and you rubbed your arms.

“What do bluebells mean?” You awkwardly asked and John looked into your eyes, his own still filled with mirth.

“Darling, they symbolise humiliation.”

At that, your face absolutely flamed up with heat and you quickly slapped your hands over it to hide away. “No they do not! Tell me they don’t.” You cried out into your palms, mortified, and John burst out laughing again, much to your chagrin. “It’s not funny, that’s so embarrassing!” You whined, only to stop when you felt a soft touch on your wrist.

Gently, Price grabbed hold of it before he pried your hand away from your face, a smile still on his features. “That reasoning is a lot better than the ones I came up with. Besides, I like bluebells.” He hummed and you breathed out softly, licking your lips.

“Promise you’re not lying?”

“Scouts honour.” He hummed with a soft smile.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your arm and smiled a careful smile back at him. “At least you knew you had a soulmate because of it, so it’s not all bad.”

“Not all bad.” He hummed, letting go of your wrist while his eyes flitted up and down, properly taking you in.

“Guess we both marked each other up then.” You spoke but at that, John’s warm smile turned wry.

“That’s quite different, Y/N.” He shook his head and you frowned, making him let out a rueful chuckle. “I’m not the one with a body full of flowers.” His knuckles gently stroked down your forearm before he dropped his hand and let out a sigh. “See, I feared ruining someone’s life because of how I live mine.”

Hearing his words, you don’t know what compelled you to do so, but you shot forward and grabbed his right hand tight with both of yours, holding it up between yourselves. “You ruined nothing for me.”

Blinking a few times, John turned his hand to grip yours back, surprised by how shockingly addicting the warmth your hands gave off was. He almost had to tear his focus back into the conversation as he ran your words through his head again and clicked his tongue. “Nothing? You sure? I doubt you got many relationships with all the flowers I must have given you.”

Smirking a bit, you tilted your head. “And why would I want relationships when I knew I had a soulmate out there?”

Your words were quick and paired with your sudden mischievous expression, the tension between John’s brows vanished as he looked at you.

It almost felt like a veil had been lifted, one that had been holding him down for god knows how long as he realised. Even through everything he did to you, you never doubted him. You’d held out for him and trusted him to come to you. And all that while you didn’t even know him.

Taking in your expression, he allowed himself to loosen up too, his lips quirking up slightly.

“Experience?”

Gasping playfully at that, you took note as well of how he seemed to relax, making you cross your arms in a pretend display and chuckle. “How rude.”

Smiling at you, John held out his hand. “You’re right. Allow me to buy you a drink to make up for it?”

Smiling back, you placed your hand in his. “I’d love that. Plus, I don’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m pretty sure your own drink is still being guarded.”

Huffing out a laugh, John shook his head and nodded. “Guess I’ll swipe that back as well. Allow me?”

Nodding, you let him lead you back into the pub, opening the door for you before he led you to a quieter corner at the bar top.

For the rest of the night, the two of you talked, getting to know each other before exchanging numbers to keep in contact and meet up later.

Later turned into two days later, which turned into another day later as well. And safe to say, by the end of the week, a lot more of your flowers were filled in and coloured.

- - - -

Did I think of every way Price got his scars aka you got the flowers? Yes. Did it come up in the fic? No. Sad boi hours xD

Part 1 | Part 2

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #soulmate au #price x reader #it’s 3:45am so if you see any mistakes no you don’t

[tossawary]

For several different reasons, I'm not personally a big fan of "Soulmate AUs" (universes where there is some way to determine your destined romantic partner, often by some kind of magical birthmark), though I will admit that I have read and enjoyed some of these stories before. There are lots of fun and interesting ways to explore and subvert these tropes.

But past the coercive amatonormatism of it all (which I have seen many people consciously explore in neat ways), one of the things that sometimes bugs me is the worldbuilding or lack thereof. Often, the author of a Soulmate AU is not interested in expansive worldbuilding for a short fic and that's fine and fair. They're explicitly not here to explore what known soulmates throughout history would do to culture, both in terms of social norms and actual laws of government, in a 2k meet cute fic about people finding love.

The world being largely unchanged in a Soulmate AU sometimes makes me wonder if soulmate marks or whatever ARE relatively recent in these worlds, especially when so many of these worlds have magic. How did this HAPPEN? Some of these soulmate setups are so specific and artificial in their design (timers, written words, etc.) that I can't fully suspend my disbelief that it's at all natural. I replace this system's origins in my head with the "a wizard did it" excuse. Then it would make more sense for this world to be more or less identical, just with soulmates slapped on top by a mischievous or angry god.

I have seen many people go with various kinds of "it's a blessing from the gods" explanations and I think that's fun and fine worldbuilding. (And for most people's stories, there just isn't really a need to actually explain this magic system.) I'm currently interested in the idea that someone, not necessarily a divine being, intentionally or even accidentally cast a soulmate spell RECENTLY. Some people are thrilled and other people HATE this.

"Yeah, we've only had 'soulmates' around for about 200 years, since that big mysterious spell, and it's been a big fucking mess ever since." That's a funny mild subversion of the trope in my opinion. And also, I mean, personally speaking, I think that "let's go on a quest to argue with the god wizard who says you're not my soulmate (and maybe kill him and end his stupid spell)" is potentially an incredibly romantic storyline.

#tossawary fandom #fic ideas #soulmate au

[sunmoonjune]

dewdrops at dawn

pairing: poly!ateez x fem!reader (ot8 x reader) [demon!au]

warnings: minors dni!! socially anxious reader, reader is implied to be neurodivergent but it’s never explicitly said, mentions of body insecurity, chubby reader, being followed, drunk assholes, cursing, demons, soulmates, reincarnation, blood, death, heavy suggestive content, mentions of angels being dicks (idk there’s a bit of angel slander but it’s just for plot purposes), a little gore, angst then lots of fluff, heavy sexual themes but no actual smut (again, minors please dni!!) (also, all suggestive content is 100% consensual, the reader just tries to evade their advances to continue their teasing), also the reader is mentioned to be some kind of atheist/not religious 

word count: 17.2k

a/n: nooo the boys’ demon forms are totally not based on the obey me characters at all, why would you even ask that /j lol welcome to another monster fic!! I’ve been writing this one in between like the moon and finally had the motivation to finish it! I hope y’all enjoy this one!! <3 

There’s an ache in your chest. 

It’s not stinging or painful, by any means - just an ache. The dull throb is usually easily ignored in most circumstances, with a shrug of the shoulders or a heavy breath. The pain is never enough to worry your already addled mind. It lingers constantly, not sated by any human means. 

You don't know how to describe it to those who ask. The pain isn’t sharp, and it’s certainly not excruciating. It's simply empty. That’s the only way you’ve learned to describe it. It’s a hole in your chest, aching to be filled - by what, you’re not quite sure. All you know is the ache feels null, like a void longing to be filled, or a chasm waiting to be crossed. There’s emptiness that cannot be filled no matter how hard you try. 

Some days are better than others. On these, you can manage your day quite splendidly; going about your daily tasks does not pose a challenge. Getting up in the morning was not as difficult of a challenge, nor was dragging yourself to university classes.

On other days, you can barely bring yourself to leave the bed. The emptiness drags a pit into your stomach and you can feel nothing but the ache that longs to be filled. You have yet to discover what you’re searching for, but you long for the day the empty pain is filled. 

Your friends, however, have an interesting way of comforting you. 

In fact, you think you’re going to kill them. 

After days and days of their begging, you finally allowed the two girls to drag you to a club they frequented. It wasn’t your ideal night out - made apparent by the number of excuses you’d provided when trying to avoid going out. The anxious pit at the bottom of your stomach threatened to crawl its way into your throat at the thought of the club. 

However, no matter how hard you’d tried, the two girls had been persistent. When you’d explained an excuse to avoid the club one week, they simply offered to go the next evening. After offering other options and pitifully providing other explanations, the girls finally managed to convince you to join them. Of course, under the circumstances that you did not have to drink, and that they would not leave your side for too long. 

You’d never really been a partier. Social anxiety, among the other apprehensive turmoils that lingered in your gut, simply kept you from enjoying the experience. There were too many possibilities at clubs: what to wear, what kind of makeup, what shoes do you wear without your feet getting sore, too many other people - the list went on. Besides, the blaring sound of the dubstep soundtrack - that could hardly be called music - and the flashing lights sought to overstimulate your senses just minutes after you arrived. 

A ringing was already clouding your head and fogging your brain after mere minutes of sitting at the bar. 

You anxiously tugged at the dress the two girls had chosen for you. It wasn’t something you were particularly comfortable dressing in, highlighting too many of the features you usually covered. The length allowed glimpses of your thighs to peek out, which caused you to pull your bag into your lap to cover. The rolls of your stomach could be seen when you sat, the fabric of the dress doing nothing to provide you room to hide them. The cloth of your bag rubbed against your skin as you clutched it to your front in an effort to shield the parts of your body you didn't want others to see. The twisted image of your skin made the lingering anxious pit swell in size. 

It had been a little over an hour, and the itch under your skin that formed with the proximity of so many people was quickly becoming unbearable. It swelled under your skin and caused the twitch of your muscles in anxious spurts. You could almost feel the touch of germs and breath touching your skin from the throngs of people dancing on the floor nearby. At the thought, a shiver rolled back down your spine and you continued to rub your thumbs together in a stimulating manner. 

You promised yourself a few minutes more, before you’d text your two friends and make your way out of the night club. It was undeniably puzzling how you’d lasted the entire hour, but you were ready to end the night. Despite knowing the girls for years, the ache in your chest still appeared when you worried you’d insult them by trying to provide for your own needs. 

After screwing the lid of your water bottle tight, you shifted in your seat. Ready to text your two friends about your departure, a grunt is heard from your left as someone slides into the seat adjacent to you. 

It’s a man, alcohol on his breath and unshaven, unkempt facial hair nearly causing you to wince. Not to mention, the scent of his body odor reeked from the bodies dancing on the floor behind you. You can feel his eyes on your skin, but you attempt to ignore it by tucking your hair behind your ear and tapping on your phone screen. You hope he’ll turn his attention elsewhere, as you try to look busy with your device. 

Unfortunately, your wishes are not fulfilled as the drunk stranger tries to grab your attention. He waves his hand in front of your face, and you quickly pull back away, not wanting to be touched by a stranger. His grimy fingers and horrid stench cause you to hide a wince beneath a curt, uncomfortable smile. 

“Hey,” his drunk voice slurs. “You’re pretty cute for a chubby girl.” 

You wince. 

The mention of your size twists the knife already buried in your heart. You’re not often approached by men, often being overlooked for your pretty friends, but at least the distaste of your figure has always been internal rather than external. The notion of such comments further propels your self-deprecating mind. It’s a thorn in your side and a cloud in your rear-view mirror: constant, draining reminders that always seem to ruin an otherwise sunny day. 

You chose to ignore the man, chewing on the inside of your cheek to regulate some of the anxiety. Blood seeps from the wounds already lining the inner lip, but you don't have another outlet. There’s a thickness in your throat that you’re afraid you can’t speak over, and the churning in your stomach is steadily rising. 

Clutching the phone tightly in your grasp, you continue to type out a message to your two friends. Your fingers skate across the keyboard, motions too quick to properly spell. The message is jumbled, but you hope they understand despite the typos scattered across the screen. 

“Oi - “ the drunkard grunts, obviously upset at the lack of attention. “I’m talking to you, ya know?” 

It’s becoming increasingly harder to hide your disgust as the man continues to lean closer to your form. As you continue to fiddle with the strap of your bag, you turn to the man. Ready to express your discomfort, you begin to stutter out an excuse when the man reaches to touch you. Growing tired of your ignorance to his efforts, the sleazy man had attempted to grab your attention by gripping your skin. 

You don’t know what he was planning on touching, but your immediate reaction is to move. 

Your heart skips a beat in panic. 

Quickly sliding off the stool, you step away from the drunkard with a muttered curse. You’re a little wobbly in the shoes your friends have chosen for you, but you maintain your balance. Scanning the crowd, you try to seek out a bartender or security guard in the crowded club. There are too many bodies in the room, further instigating the panic. 

You can’t seem to see anyone in the crowd, and the loud noises and bright, flashing lights are only adding to the over-stimulation. With a quickening heartbeat and racing mind, you stumble away from the man. 

With no one in sight to help, you attempt to mutter out a few words. 

“Please don’t touch me.”

The sleazy drunkard, obviously too heavily intoxicated to process basic commands, slides off his own barstool and attempts to follow you. 

“Where ya’going?” He slurs, stumbling on his heavy feet. His off-center balance and tilted walk are obvious signs of his intoxication. You step away again, with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

Your head whips around the room, still scanning for someone - anyone. There has to be someone in the crowd that could help. Anyone could see you in a panic and reach out to help out of simple concern, however it appears that the flood lights, loud music coupled with a few drinks has made the crowd oblivious to your situation. 

With heavy breaths, you push your hands out in front of you in an attempt to keep the man away. Your hands tremble a little despite your efforts to appear strong. You squeeze a fist tight and wave the man away. 

“Please leave me alone.” You grunt, just loud enough to be heard over the music rushing through the speakers. 

As though he hadn't heard you at all, the man slurs out a few curses as he reaches to touch you again. Though he doesn’t get the chance, you wince at the imagined feeling of his greasy fingers grazing against your skin. 

Before his fingers can skim against your bare skin, you turn and start pushing through the crowd. Sweet and grime press into your personal space and you scrunch your face into a cringe. The heat of the mass of shifting bodies continues to press into your skin, and it makes the room feel like it’s closing around you. 

You pant as several bodies shove you around the crowd. Tears are beginning to push against your eyes, and you force them closed to keep them from falling. Another body shoves into you and you stumble from the force. 

The door is not far. It’s the one that lets out at the back of the bar, but you long for any method of escape possible. Another few shoves throw the crowd and you break free from their grasp. Sweat sticks to your skin and it feels like you’re suffocating. There’s too many things touching you. The reminder of their bodies against your skin makes bile rise into your throat, and you don’t understand why you hate their touch so much. 

Panting and nearly shaking, you whip your head over your shoulder. You hope that you’ve lost the drunkard in the throng of people, but it appears your wishes will go unanswered. 

From the depths of the crowd, you can see his form still pushing through the dancing masses. His eyes are still on your form, and despite his intoxication, he seems able to follow you without too much trouble. 

You cringe and stumble as you turn back towards the door. You and your friends had taken an Uber to the party as they had predicted to be drinking all night long. As you push the heavy door open, your thoughts race as you attempt to figure out where to go. 

Your first thought is to find a crowd of people. Hopefully someone would be able to aid your panic and turn the drunkard away. 

Skin sticking and chest heaving, you turn your head around with wide eyes. Your heart sinks when your eyes settle on the dark alleyway. The back door of the bar has let out into a long, dank corridor. There are dumpsters across from you and not a person in sight. 

You whimper at the lack of life, heart still racing and mind still churning. It’s running a mile a minute, trying to force a semi-coherent thought that will help you escape. However, there are more cries of panic and worst-case scenarios filtering through your consciousness than ideas. 

You want to hide, but there are so few options in the decrepit alleyway, you’re sure you’ll be found. Even a drunkard would be able to see your crouched form behind the dumpsters. 

Running may not be a good option either. You’ll have to kick off your heels, but you don’t really want to put your bare feet on the glass and grime covered concrete. You cringe at the thought of bacteria seeping into open wounds and push the idea away. 

The creak of the heavy bar door echoes through the silence of the alleyway.

The sound sends a cold shiver down your spine. You’re out of options. The greasy drunkard is stumbling out the door with a sneer on his face. His clothes are loose and askew, likely from the push and pull of the crowd. Hair messy and alcohol still on his breath, he stumbles towards you. 

“Where ya going, girlie? I’m tryna talk to ya!” He’s nearly shouting now, his spit spraying and voice angry. You cringe at his wretched breath and nearly gag.

A tear finally leaks from your stubborn eyes. Heart pounding and throat dry, you can’t seem to force out any other words - not that protests stopped him before.  You step back, kicking a glass bottle with your feet and almost tripping. You can’t take your eyes off the man, too worried if you move them, he’ll lunge. 

As his form approaches, you can’t think of any other options. In your state of unrelenting panic, you do something you’ve never done before. 

With a racing mind and a lump in your stomach, you start praying. 

Please, fuck - if anyone is out there, please help me! I’ve never prayed before, but please, God - anyone - please save me. I’m so sorry - 

You’ve never reached out like this before - never felt the need to. You were not raised to follow any religion, so the thought never really crossed your mind. The thoughts of demons and angels were never at the forefront of your consciousness, nor was believing in a higher power. However, the fear and panic have you reaching for any string of hope in an otherwise dark and dreary tunnel. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you continue to plead for help in your mind. Form shaking and tears finally falling, you being to sob. They come out choked and breathy, just barely escaping your lungs as they blur with pleads for help. Your chest feels like it’s caving in on itself and you can’t feel your extremities. Your fingers are numb and your arms are slowing losing feeling from the panic. 

You brace for the impact of his nasty fingers on your skin. With every muscle in your body tense, you heave out another sob and a plea for safety. The drunkard is mumbling words under his breath, but your racing mind is so loud you can’t hear anything but the rushing in your ears. Counting the seconds, you lock every bone in your body and prepare to fight with everything you have. 

Then, there’s some sort of flash across your closed eyelids and a dark, hissing sound. You squeeze your eyes shut even further, shuffling backwards to make yourself even smaller. The sounds of struggle reach your ears, feet scuffling and a shout of some sort of anger or pain. 

The sick sound of bones being broken echoes through the alleyway, and then there’s silence. 

You shuffle backwards again, now terrified of the new presence in the alleyway. You hadn’t heard the bar door open, nor the sounds of approaching footsteps. You’re unsure how the new person has entered the alleyway, but they’ve incapacitated your attacker. They’re silent and strong, and you’re afraid they’ve now set their sights on you.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper. The words are so silent, you’re not sure the new presence has heard them. Eyes still squeezed shut, you press your back against the damp wall of the alley behind you. 

A step is taken towards your form. You flinch, head moving away from the noise. The person is likely aware of your fear and stops moving. 

There’s silence for a few beats, then the soft sounds of humming fill your ears. It’s sweet and soft, and you nearly sink into the sound. Their voice is deep and gentle, filled with honey and sweet sugar. They hum a short tune, and the sounds send some sort of pleasant river down your spine. It’s familiar, the zing. You’ve felt it before, but only briefly. 

A tug has always pulled on your heart, sending shivers down your spine and yanking longingly when you interact with certain things. Sometimes a sense of deja vu echoes throughout your being when you pass places that seem too familiar. 

This zing has echoed through your veins before - but it was different then. Before, this shiver passed through your skin in longing. As if you had been separated from something for too long; some kind of homesickness or other sense of longing. 

Now, the flutter of your heart increases as their voice seems to awaken every nerve under your skin. Their hum seems to slow your pulse and weaken your muscles. You sink into their voice, a pleased hum erupting from your own throat despite your efforts to hold it back. 

A soft chuckle erupts from the form in front of you. 

Once again, a pleasant shiver sets your body alight. All the panic from before is slowly ebbing away from your mind; replaced with thoughts of the new presence and their honeyed voice and sweet laugh. 

“S’alright, Pretty.” Their voice echoes through your mind. The deep sound seems to fill every nook and cranny of your body, and you wish you could linger in the sound of their voice. 

When you crack open your teary eyes, it’s not what you expect. 

The drunkard from before is gone, the space he occupied is empty and there is no trace of his existence. Instead, another form has taken his place. 

Though you wish you could say you were mystified by the man’s beauty at first, your eyes are immediately drawn to the horns, wings and tail of the form before you. 

While he’s one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen, with dark hair hanging in front of his eyes and sharp cheekbones that you ache to touch, your eyes fall to the twisted horns that curl around his head. They’re as dark as his hair, twisting around his skull like a ram and shining in the moonlight. His wings are dark too, spread like a bat’s. The membranes are dark, but the outline of the bones are white, standing out against the darkness of the skin between them. You nearly reach out to touch the smooth skin before you remember where you are. 

The man’s tail is dark too. It looks nearly identical to those of demons you’ve seen in fairytales. Long and prehensile, it has a barb-like hook at the end. It’s sharp and dangerous, but it gently sways like a cat’s while you look at it. 

When you meet the man’s eyes with your teary ones, you suck in a deep breath. 

His black eyes are already settled on your face, a sweet smile on his lips. At the contact between your eyes, a deeper shiver sings throughout your body, nearly making you shake. It’s pleasant, a hum you feel like you’ve felt before. It sets every nerve in your body alive, and you long to feel it again. 

With a slightly agape mouth, you can’t take your eyes off the beauty of the man before you. 

He chuckles again, a cheeky smile erupting onto his mouth. The tips of sharpened fangs gleam in the light of the moon. Some sort of aroused thrum echoes through your skin at the sight, and you curse yourself for those kinds of thoughts at a time like this. His smile makes him even more attractive - you can’t understand what this nearly familiar man is doing to your mind. 

“Seven Hells,” the man giggles, the grin still on his cheeks. “You would not believe how fast angels are! I had to fight like six other people to be the first to answer your call.” 

Breathing out a sigh of confusion, you tilt your head. The man before you seems to think the action funny, and he huffs out a breathy laugh. He’s endeared, but you don’t know why. 

The concept of demons and angels confuses you, but you don’t refute the claim. After all, his moving wings and tail couldn’t be some sort of elaborate costume. 

You shiver again when his eyes meet yours again and you sigh out a breathy, sweet sound. The form in front of you seems to have some sort of similar reaction as his wings flutter and tail swings again. 

The only thing your addled brain seems to be able to force out in its confusion is a meek, “Hello.”

The demonic form in front of you shudders at your voice, seeming to have a similar reaction as you had before. His head tips back a little and you nearly keen at the sight of his throat. The Adam’s apple is apparent in the moonlight and you nearly imagine a dark purple mark on his skin, before you shake off the haze and focus back on the present. 

With another sweet grin, the man’s sweet voice responds. 

“Hello, Darling. It’s been a long time.” 

You scrunch your nose in confusion, attempting to decipher what he meant in his words. Have you met before? 

“My name’s San,” he provides. His hair falls into his dark eyes as he leans forward to tip his head in a soft greeting. The dark horns shine in the light, but for some strange reason, you are not frightened by them. Though they shine menacingly, you ache to stroke them rather than to cower in fear. You wonder how they feel underneath your fingers. Would they be rough or scaly? Can he feel it - are there nerves in his horns that would allow him to feel your touch? 

You cough a little sigh to break from your trance. Then you offer your name in return. San smiles once more, showing his white teeth, before he offers you a hand. 

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of trusting this demonic stranger after being chased into an alleyway. However, the singing under your skin and the butterflies in your stomach have left you with some sort of deja vu. You feel as though you’ve met San before. His presence is so familiar that even your skin seems to remember his touch. Just the sound of his voice sets your body alight. 

Eyeing his hand, your eyes fall to the black polish coating his fingernails. San seems to take note of your hesitance and offers you a gentle smile. He leans down a little, bringing his height to match yours. His wings fold against his back, making his form a little smaller. San is a little less menacing in this way - though, you weren’t exactly afraid of him before. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” San whispers. His words are only for your ears.  

You nod your head softly. With a determined sigh, you place your hand in San’s. Something about him is trustworthy; whether it’s his kind disposition or his familiarity, you allow San to gently keep you upright as he pulls you towards his body. He helps you maintain your balance, legs still shaky from the chase. 

His hands are as warm as his demeanor. You feel yourself melting into his side, and despite your hopes to keep upright, San has you weak in the knees. 

“Is it alright if I walk you home, Darling?” 

Meeting his eyes, you nod your head wearily. With San’s hands on your skin, you can’t seem to think. His touch scrambles your brain far more than his voice had. When you regain your balance, San takes his hands away from your skin and you nearly whine. 

Embarrassed, you turn away from the man. San chuckles, endeared by your shyness. It’s not the first time you’ve attempted a similar maneuver. He savors in your presence, eternally grateful to have returned to your side once more. It’s been far too long since his skin had touched yours. He can feel the familiar connection hum underneath his skin, the ninth piece of a puzzle falling into place. 

He knows his seven lovers long to take his place. When the ring of your voice had echoed in their minds, San had been the first to launch to his feet. His stomach twisting in both fear and longing, San was already ready to fall into your side. 

“Dibs!” He’d cried, disappearing into a cloud of smoke.  

His heart was racing as he felt the terror in your voice. San had fought at least six angels through his descent in order to reach your side. After all these years, he was not about to let an angel be the one to answer your prayers. 

The seven others had groaned, voices blending together as they ached to follow their partner. Hongjoong had chuckled, drawing Seonghwa into his side as they laughed at their younger lover. Though they wanted to follow, they knew you were safe in San’s hands. San was entirely capable of fighting off the strongest of angels, and he had been one of the most involved in finding you. 

“Ah, eager brat,” Hongjoong grunts. It’s not malicious, an upturned grin on his lips indicates that. 

Seonghwa smiled as he buried his face into Hongjoong’s hair. Minutes later, the seven boys felt the same connection finally locked into place. The hum sung beneath their skin as it did yours. The ninth bond fit perfectly into the web of connections between the eight boys. It intertwined with the others and pulsed with energy. Feeling the quiver beneath his skin, Seonghwa dropped his head back and hummed pleasantly. 

It was like no other. The feeling of a bond slipping into place was more euphoric than any other experience any of the demons had encountered. At his side, Wooyoung pouted. He had been on his feet as quickly as San. He ached to complete their bond as San had. While the connection had returned, the bond between you and San was exponentially stronger as you had contact with him. 

Wooyoung ached to connect your souls as San had; to feel the lingering emotion sink into his own skin and fill his entire being. He longed to feel the touch of your skin against his and bask in the warmth of your hands. 

However, he knew he had plenty of time to complete the bond. You had finally returned, and the eight could never be more grateful. The seven men had exchanged knowing glances, passing unspoken words through their bonds. With a deep, fulfilled sigh, they allowed themselves to relax knowing that you were safe with San. 

You would return to their side soon. 

When San walked you back to your apartment that evening, he had explained the basic biology of his species. 

He had avoided much of the deeper details, but he had allowed as many questions as you could conceptualize. San explained that he was demon-kind. His horns, tail and wings had obviously given away his genetics, but you were still mystified. Previously, you did not necessarily believe in their existence. Though you had never discounted it, it was not a superstition you put much thought into. 

San had chucked at your wondrous expression, feeling endeared at your curiosity. He had expected a little fear at his appearance, but you expressed nothing but wonder. You had almost asked to touch his wings, but you figured it was not something to ask upon first meeting. 

Though he left out his status in Hell, as well as his seven other lovers and their bonds, San answered every question you asked of him. He hid his demonic features from sight as he walked you to your door, not wanting suspicious eyes to watch the two of you. You were a little disappointed to see them disappear, but you had even more questions to ask of San so you didn’t mind. 

When he left you at your door, you were upset to see him go. Whatever sung under your skin in his presence gave you such a euphoric feeling. It was one you didn’t want to go away. 

At your barely hidden frown, San had chuckled. He promised to return soon to answer more of your questions, but he wanted to make sure you got home safe.  He explained that he could hear your prayers, the same as angels could. It was the reason he appeared in the first place. 

If you wanted to see him again before he could find time, all you had to do was call out his name. 

When you had shut the door behind you, you had collapsed against the door with weak knees. After being chased and harassed by a drunkard and saved by an Adonis of a demon, your head was spinning. Too much had occurred in one night. 

However, you can’t say you regretted joining your friends that evening. Meeting San had felt like nothing you had ever experienced. The pure euphoria that rushed through your veins was like no other. Even seconds after saying goodbye, you wished to feel the shiver under your skin once more. Just your name falling from his lips would be enough. 

Though he’s a demon and you should be frightened, you can’t bring yourself to stop thinking of him. He was so kind and gentle with you despite his demonic nature. He had saved your life, after all. 

You spend the next few days with San’s image in your mind and his voice in your thoughts. He doesn’t leave your consciousness for hours. The honeyed sound of his words send more shivers down your spine and have butterflies twirling in your stomach. 

In the few days since your interaction, you almost find yourself calling his name. 

You hesitate as you don’t have a reason to see him again, but every nerve in your body aches to be in his presence again. It wants to hear his voice and feel his touch, no matter if he was a demon. 

It’s three days later when you see him again. 

This time, San has brought someone with him. 

When there’s a knock at your door in the golden hour of sunset, you think nothing of the intrusion. Your neighbors are quite friendly, so you don’t mind humoring them despite the lingering social anxiety. You huffed a quick breath and pulled open the door, ready to interact with your neighbors for a few moments. 

However, you’re more than surprised to see the form of San alongside another person - well, demon you suppose. 

San is still hiding his demon form, but meeting his eyes still sets your heart alight. At his side, is another man with longer hair, but equally as breathtaking as San. 

The man is shorter than his counterpart, standing just an inch shorter than San. His hair is split: the top half an ebony black, and the underside dyed a bright blonde. The combination is gorgeous against his skin. His hair is tied back into a half bun, letting the underside rest against his neck. 

His jaw is sharp and his eyes have not left your face. They’re kind, just like San’s, and you find yourself lost in them. He’s got a giddy smile on his cheeks and it seems as though he’s holding back from something. 

The familiar zing that flowed through your skin erupts into another wave of shivers. It lingers in your stomach, settling in a consistent hum that makes you feel warm and gooey. It seems this man has a similar effect on you as San does. 

San nearly giggles as you can’t take your eyes off his lover. 

He sends a warm bolt of energy into his bond with Wooyoung, giggling once more when his partner sends him a knowing look. 

At his laugh, you manage to shake yourself off the trance and look back at San. 

“San!” You happily mumble. There’s a grin on your lips and both boys have to resist pressing a kiss to your cheeks. 

San laughs again and leans forward to wrap his arms around you. It’s a friendly hug, and you try not to linger. However San’s comforting scent has you hesitating to pull away. His grip is warm and strong, keeping his hands around your shoulders as he sways gently. 

When you pull away, there’s a smile on both your faces. San turns to the man beside him and begins to introduce him. 

“Darling, this is Wooyoung.” 

You bring your eyes back to the form of the other demon, breath catching once more at his alluring beauty. Wooyoung is still giddy, nearly rocking on his heels to hold back from hugging you. 

Wooyoung feels as though he may pass out. He has no idea how San had done this. Just being in your presence, seeing your form before him has stolen the breath straight from his lungs. He’s never seen anyone more gorgeous, besides from his lovers, of course. 

The bond humming between the two of you is swelling. With your form in front of his, the connection is finally close to snapping completely into place. Wooyoung shivers as it hums, letting the pleasant feeling fill his body and set his heart on fire. 

“Hello, Sunshine!” Wooyoung cheerily provides. His voice is nearly sweeter than San’s, and you find yourself sinking into it as you had with San’s. 

You giggle back a reply of your name, shivering when his lips repeat the word. 

It’s as easy to interact with Wooyoung as it is with San. 

You invite the two in to talk, an offer you don’t usually make. The two happily follow you inside, where they allow their demon forms to reappear once checking there were no open windows. 

You have no issue with their true forms, a fact that still surprises you. 

San's form is familiar, so you find yourself lingering on Wooyoung. His wings are feathered, rather than bat-like. They’re are long and black, shining in the light of dusk. His wingspan is arguably larger than San’s, a fact you don’t mention to either man. 

Wooyoung’s horns are different too; the black shapes that protrude from his skull are not curled like San’s. Instead, they twist upward in a single bend. The points face the sky rather than end by his ears. They look sharper than San’s too, the points thinner and more menacing. 

It also appears that Wooyoung does not have a tail. While San’s lingers at his waist, still flicking to indicate his emotions, Wooyoung’s demon form does not appear to have the prehensile appendage. 

You nearly ask the man about it, before you spot the second set of wings that extend from Wooyoung’s back. They’re smaller than the first, sitting just below them. Still black in color, the second set of feathered wings appear in place of a tail, it seems. When Wooyoung fully extends them after catching your lingering gaze, you find yourself awestruck at their beauty. 

His feathers ruffle as you look, and Wooyoung can feel pride soar through his being. A hum echoes through his veins when he feels your awe. The notion has Wooyoung nearly preening. 

“You have two sets of wings?” You question, excitedly. You nearly buzz as you look at the appendages, aching to run your fingers through the feathers. 

San is not jealous, a loving gaze lingering in his features as he watches you interact with one of his lovers. With a pleased smile on his face, San adores watching you speak with Wooyoung. He can feel the joy and curiosity echo from both bonds, the feeling radiating in his body. 

A hum falls from his lips as you talk, and San wishes to bury his grin in either of your necks to express his joy. 

The three of you settle into your meager living room. With drinks from your kitchen in hand, you continue to talk to the two boys. Learning about their demonic nature is more interesting than you thought, and you find yourself eagerly taking in all the information you can. 

San and Wooyoung continue to exchange knowing glances, grins on their lips and hearts singing in joy. It’s been too long since the three of you sat like this. 

Hours seem to pass, and the sun has completely set by the time you break away from conversation. It seems to flow too easily with both men, a notion you enjoy. Usually, social interaction with strangers is nothing more than stomach-turning and anxiety-inducing. However, with both San and Wooyoung, it seems to flow easily. There is never a lapse in conversation, and you eagerly exchange stories amongst each other. 

As the hour drags closer to ten, Wooyoung and San exchange another long glance. You can tell they’re speaking to each other - whether it’s actually telepathically or not, is undecided. 

The two boys grin once more before they turn back to you. 

“Darling,” San hums warmly. “We have something to ask you.”

You find yourself nodding in agreement motioning for the two to continue. 

“Is it alright -” Wooyoung begins, hesitating as he attempts to word his question properly. “ - If we bring you to meet the others?”

“The others?” 

It’s a fair question. San and Wooyoung have mentioned their lovers in conversation, making sure to include the mention of their polyamorous relationship so as not to confuse you. You aren’t sure how many other demons there are, nor where they are. However, perhaps a more insane part of you doesn’t seem to care. 

If the humming under your skin is any indication, you have some sort of connection to these demons - at least San and Wooyoung so far. 

Maybe you’re just insane, a question you consider in addition to your already mentally ill brain. 

San giggles, “Yes, the others. There’s six other demons of our kind.” 

Your head tilts in question, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched in confusion. Their kind? What other sorts of demons were there?

“Your kind?” 

Wooyoung is the one to offer an answer. He leans forward, bowing his head in a slight incline to show the top of his head. In a shuddering wave of light, a golden crown appears on the top of Wooyoung's head. It’s covered in colorful gems, the dainty gold twisting to accommodate the jewels. It’s ornate and elaborate, it’s beauty glistening in the moonlight hour. 

Your jaw drops askew. Still a little confused, you turn to Wooyoung.

“Are you royalty?” Your tone drops, a little worried you were informal with some kind of royalty who ruled over the depths of Hell. The gems of Wooyoung’s crown glimmer once more, their beauty taunting you. 

San chuckles as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Of a sort,” he offers. 

His crown has materialized as well, the gold intertwining throughout his horns. With the jewels, both boys are even more stunning with the gold shining in the light. 

“There are eight rulers of Hell,” Wooyoung finally explains. “Among the seven rings, seven of the princes rule over a domain, as well as a sin. Our leader, the High King, rules over Hell and its entirety.” 

You nod, following Wooyoung’s explanation. He continues to describe the seven rings of Hell, as well as the seven sins. You continue to be fascinated by his words, your enthusiasm pulsing in your bond. 

San’s lips turn upwards in a soft smile. He remembers explaining this once previously. Your enthusiasm is quite the same, and a sense of nostalgia and sweet memories sing in his chest. The warmth flows from him and into Wooyoung’s end of the connection. He hesitates in sending the emotions your way, not knowing if you’re prepared to handle the strength of their feelings. 

“To meet the others,” you start - “Would I have to go to Hell?”

San’s head shakes in a nod. “Yes, if you’re comfortable. Hongjoong is alright with coming here, as well, if you’d prefer.” 

A beat of silence fills the room as you consider your options. Entering the domain of Hell does send an unpleasant shiver down your spine. A human in the underworld may not invite pleasant creatures into your space. However, inviting six more demons into your small apartment may draw unwanted attention to yourself. Your neighbors know you as a fairly solitary person. You only have a few close friends that enter your apartment, and your neighbors are nosy enough to notice when eight strangers enter your dwelling. 

San hums, leaning forward to place his hand onto your knee. His hand is gentle and warm. Despite the layer of cloth between you, the heat of San’s skin warms your skin. Another shudder, pleasant this time, overtakes your body. The roll of your stomach returns, but it’s become a welcome sensation. Your ears are hot, not used to the physical affection. 

“We’d never let anything happen to you, Darling.” San reassures. “Ya know that, right?” 

Wooyoung’s sweet voice responds in another hum. His eyes are gentle, singing with adoration that you’ve never seen before. Their gazes have you avoiding their eyes in an effort to appear unaffected. However, unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung and San are already well aware of all your inner workings. They know exactly what strings to pull in order to embarrass you. The touches that fluster you and the words that arouse you are ones that the boys are familiar with. It’s not hard to send your body into overdrive. 

“You’re safe with us, Sunshine.” Wooyoung reminds. His words are stubborn, unyielding to any protest you may offer. 

With a strong sigh of determination, you relent. If you’re going to Hell, it may as well be with two of the most attractive demons you’ve ever seen. 

Their unwavering promise of protection seems to settle over you with a wave of comfort. Relaxing the tension in your muscles, you offer the two a warm smile. 

“Alright, take me to Hell.”

A few hours later, Wooyoung is stabilizing your waist as you finally land on solid ground. 

San had warned you of the effects of his teleportation, but you were still unprepared for the violent jerk of your body into the unknown. San was clutched to the two of you, but Wooyoung was the one to keep you upright. His warm hands were settled on your waist, offering a gentle squeeze when you placed your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself standing. 

You still don’t understand the zing that echoes through your veins at their touch, but you haven’t the courage to ask either demon. You hope that soon after you meet the other six, there will be time to answer more questions. 

Leaning forward a bit, you rest your hands on your knees to counteract some of the nausea. You breathe a deep sigh, trying to control your breathing to reduce the bile at the back of your throat. The side effects of teleportation are nasty. 

San strokes a hand over your spine, a beat of apology echoing down his bond. 

“M’sorry, Pretty.” 

You offer a soft shake of your head and a wave of your hand. It’s not his fault - the easiest way in and out of Hell is via teleportation. You don’t blame San for any of the reaction, attempting to wave off the man as you breathe deeply once more. 

Rubbing a hand over your eyes, you scrub the fuzz and dizziness from your mind in an attempt to provide some clarity. When you reopen the lids, you set your sights on your first glimpse of Hell. 

It’s different than you thought.

Most descriptions of Hell depict a fiery pit of nothing but pain and despair. They detail a never-ending source of torture and depression. You don’t know if you expected something similar, but this was not an option you had considered.

Before you, is a palace worthy of generations of royalty. Though it’s black in color rather than the white humans are inclined to use, the palace is more magnificent than any you’d ever seen in photographs. It stretches into the sky with twisting pillars and stained glass windows. The steps are dark marble and the veins of quartz twist throughout the stone. 

You feel out of place for a moment, before San runs his hand over your back again. You lean into his hands to savor in his touch, the bond thrumming between your skin. There’s an echo of longing from San’s side, but you are unable to decipher it. 

“You alright, Sunshine?” Wooyoung is still at your front, hands gently stroking over your waist. Your ears heat once more, and you nearly wiggle to escape Wooyoung’s wandering hands. Embarrassed, you offer a shy nod in response. 

San chuckles, feeling the pride that Wooyoung emanates down their bond. Your flustered state seems to drive both men into frenzied states. They revel in your embarrassment, wanting to feel your cheeks heat and skin light up as you squirm. Perhaps it’s some kind of favor of corruption, but they are already well aware of their inclination to such behaviors. 

Wooyoung throws his lover a barely concealed smile as he removes his hands from your waist and steps away. 

The feathered demon turns away, leading you and San up the stairs. San takes a step up the stairs, before turning and offering his hand. You smile and place your palm in his, allowing him to lead you up the front staircase. 

Heart beating, you internalize some panic. 

In a few moments, you’ll be presented in front of six rulers of Hell, including the High King. As what? You’re unsure. You’ve only known San and Wooyoung for so little time, so you don’t know what their connection is to you. Why they’ve chosen you to meet the other rulers, is beyond you. 

Your heart stutters. With your palms beginning to sweat, you try to calm your racing mind and hope that San doesn’t notice your sweaty palms. 

San, who’s felt the panic rise, sends a bolt of comfort down your bond. Though you likely won’t be able to understand, San longs to comfort you, even unconsciously. Wooyoung offers similar support, turning around and sending you a dazzling smile. His fangs poke out of his mouth as he offers wordless comfort. 

You sigh deeply, still heavily concerned. The beat of warmth that seemed to filter through your veins was comforting. You have no idea where it came from, but it allowed some of your tensed muscles to loosen. The twisting in your gut has untangled a little, and you manage to tear your eyes from the floor. 

Sending San a barely hopeful smile, you attempt to appear brave. 

Wooyoung turns back to the doors of the palace, flicking his fingers to open the gates. The dark, heavy doors part for you to enter. Light from the interior of the palace filters out, and you manage to catch a glimpse of the towering pillars that frame the walkways. You’re the slightest bit intimidated by the grandeur of the palace. Walking into the interior in your sweatshirt and jeans feels underhanded in a way. You hope the six princes don’t mind. 

San falls back, allowing you to step in front of him while Wooyoung leads the three of you through the winding hallways of the palace. He’s filled with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in decades. The dark haired boy nearly keens when you turn your head over your shoulder, making sure he was still following. 

Your eyebrows are pulled together in the slightest, a notion that San does not miss. He knows you’re nervous - he can feel it through the bond. Though you don’t recognize that you’re sending emotions his way, San can feel every beat of nerves and every spike of anxiety as you continue to approach the throne room. 

He almost reaches out to soothe the tension in your shoulders, but the way you curl the slightest bit inwards suggests that you’re not in the right headspace to be touched at the moment. 

When Wooyoung motions with his fingers, the grand mahogany doors to the throne room open. They swing slowly, allowing you to take another deep breath to settle the anxious stomach ache that has settled in your gut. 

In through your nose and out through the mouth. You repeat the process a second time, sending Wooyoung a small smile when he turns to check on you. He’s feeling the same nerves San is, and he wonders if the others can feel it too. It’s likely not as strong; the bond won’t fully snap into place until contact is initiated. 

Wooyoung gives you another toothy grin and a gentle nod, reassuring you without words, before he steps into the throne room. He gestures for you to follow him, and you do. Nearly tripping over your feet, you stumble into the room. An endearing look follows you, San’s eyes filled with mirth and love at the same time. 

Wooyoung heads for his seat at the throne, allowing you to step into the room at your own pace. San remains at your side, a gesture you greatly appreciate. 

Unbeknownst to you, San and Wooyoung had not informed the other six of your arrival. It was a spur of the moment decision, their silent conversation taking place in your living room. They could feel the rising ache in the other bonds, and knew that they would be slow to introduce themselves; they wanted to gradually bring you into their circle, allowing you to take the lead. However, after your enthusiasm from meeting Wooyoung and the beats of euphoria from your side of the bond, San wanted to introduce you as soon as possible. 

The eight rulers of Hell had waited decades for their ninth piece to return to their arms. 

Hongjoong, sitting at the center throne, turns his head from his conversation with Jongho at the sound of footsteps. He recalls allowing San and Wooyoung to enter the human realm earlier that afternoon, suspecting their visit to your side. However, the third set of footsteps has his voice catching in his throat. 

Whipping his head to the front, Hongjoong’s jaw gapes. His eyes are wide and features in shock. His longer, light brown hair rests against his neck, a thin feather or two intertwined in the front strands. He’s utterly gorgeous, as are the five other men at his sides. 

His wings are larger than both San’s and Wooyoung’s. They’re grandeur, black and bony like San’s, but they’re dripping in gold. The hooked ends are capped with dainty, golden chains and the white bones are laced with similar gold. Every inch of his wings sings of his royal blood, the sight breathtaking in its own right.

The High King’s horns are curled like antlers. They twist around his head, large and proud. Some deeper urge in your chest wants to run your fingers along every delicate curve to see if he’ll shiver. 

With his heart in his throat, and a beat skipped in his pulse, Hongjoong feels weak at the knees. If he’d been standing, he fears he may have collapsed. The shock is evident in the other five bonds at his side. Similar expressions have fallen onto his lovers, their eyes having snapped to the center of the throne room. 

At San’s side, is someone they’ve been aching to see. 

There’s a faint smirk on Wooyoung’s face, and Seonghwa nearly wants to wipe it off. He had known San and Wooyoung were planning something, the two were always conniving amongst each other, often dragging Mingi into their messes. 

You shuffle on your feet, swaying gently as the demon princes lay their sights on you. There’s shock on their features, and you wonder if you were supposed to be at the palace at all. 

With a still anxious stomach, you nearly turn your head to question San’s intentions. However, before you can do so, the man at the center throne is standing. 

He rises so quickly, you fear the throne will topple behind him. His beauty is breathtaking, but you don’t have much time to admire the High King before he’s approaching you. 

His eyes are wide, a lump in his throat and tears nearly forming in his eyes. He’s remarkably gentle in appearance for a king. You expected him to be much more intimidating, however his kind eyes and heartbroken expression nearly have you melting. 

There’s some kind of pulse winding through your veins, and you jolt as energy fizzles under your skin. A euphoric feeling filters through your muscles as the High King approaches. His lips are twisted into a painful smile, as if he’s holding back tears, but you can’t fathom why he’d cry at the sight of you. 

Before you can do anything, the High King is inches from your form. 

You almost step back, but San’s reassuring presence behind you and the euphoria in your chest has you hesitating. 

Neither of you utter any words for a beat of silence. The other five princes have stood from their seats, itching to follow their king to your side. After a moment, the king drops to his knees, hands at your hips and tears in his eyes. 

A pained smile is on his lips and his expression is remarkably excruciating. You ache to wipe his tears away, unsure why his pain saddens you so. At your feet, the king gazes up at you with a look you’ve never seen before. It’s as if you’re the sun in his own personal sky or a light in an otherwise darkened world. A demon of such high ranking caliber is on his knees at your feet, hands clutching your sides like he’s worried you’ll disappear if he blinks. 

His hands aren’t necessarily tight, just gripping you steady enough that he’s sure your form is real. Hongjoong still isn’t quite sure this isn't another dream of his. It’s been years since he’s felt your skin under his hands; felt the warmth of your body in his grasp and memorized the details of your face in his mind. His teary eyes take in your beauty as if it was his first breath of fresh air in years. 

With a choked gasp, Hongjoong buries his head in your stomach. His shoulders shake as a single, heavy sob echoes through the throne room. You drop your hands onto his shoulders, causing a pleased shiver to roll down Hongjoong’s spine. He attempts to press himself closer and you allow him. 

The pit in your stomach had left the moment the High King placed his hands on your skin. The anxiety was replaced with a sense of nostalgia and warmth. The lovestruck look on Hongjoong’s face was enough to wipe any sense of fear or worry from your being. 

With a gentle stroke of your hand through the king’s hair, Hongjoong pulls his head from your stomach. He allows himself to drink in your features again, another smile reaching his lips. This one is less pained, but there are tear tracks on his cheeks that you long to wipe away. 

You allow yourself to softly stroke your thumb along his cheek, wiping a tear away as you sink into the warm haze that surrounds the room. It’s heavy and feels remarkably familiar, and you want to question it. However, you can’t bring yourself to look away from Hongjoong at this moment. 

The other demons are looking on with a light, blissful feeling in their hearts. Yunho leans into Mingi, resting his weight against his lover in order to keep himself standing. The two are starry-eyed, letting their leader have his moment before they long to take his place. Seonghwa has wrapped himself around Wooyoung, the younger of the two still sporting a smug look. Yeosang is at his other side, his arm wrapped around Wooyoung’s waist. Pinching his side, Yeosang can’t keep the grin off his cheeks. Jongho rests beside the trio, still seated in his chair but a look of awe on his features. He's leaned forward, hands grasping the arm rests of his throne, allowing himself to take in your form with butterflies in his stomach. 

There’s a silent click as the ninth piece of the puzzle completely slides into place. It’s a feeling that relieves every note of tension in your skin and pushes aside every worry you’ve ever conceived. A feeling of immense relief falls onto your shoulders as the empty longing in your chest is suddenly filled. It seems as though you’ve found what you were searching for. 

With a watery smile, Hongjoong allows himself to speak for the first time since your arrival. 

“Oh, my love,” he nearly whimpers, “I pray to every damn god I’ve shamed - no soul, dead or alive, will ever touch you - ever again.” 

It’s about six weeks later, you meet your first angel. 

The boys had been a little vague about your reincarnation when you’d asked. When a solemn look passed over Seonghwa’s eyes and his face hardened in a look of sorrow, you simply rubbed your hand across his jaw and apologized. The others had a similar reaction: expressions of great pain and grief, some even shedding tears as they tried to explain what they could. 

All you know is that it had something to do with the angels.

The guardians of the celestial gates are apparently not what they seem. 

While most human literature paints the picture of a heavenly being of only good intentions, angels apparently have a much darker side that humans have not yet seen. 

Jongho’s mouth pulls into a slight snarl, the corner of his lip raised as he mirthfully recounts what he knows about the creatures. He’s laid across your lap, your hands in his hair as he speaks. It’s a little silly, with how peaceful he looks when your fingernails scraping gently against his scalp and his lips downturned into a frown. 

The youngest of the demon lords is weak for head scratches, it seems. 

While he may not enjoy much of the physical affection the others savor, Jongho does melt once your nails scratch his scalp. He’s even taken to whining gently when you refuse to play with his hair, nudging your legs with his head like a cat and softly begging for you to continue. 

“The angels are more like your human-world ‘demons,’” Jongho begins explaining. “Everything you’ve read about demons is usually a stereotype that fits the angels much better.” 

You furrow your brows in confusion, mystified by the misidentified creatures. “How so?”

Jongho’s eyes close as he keens into your touch. 

“Well, the angels think they’re superior to all other creatures - they think all other creations should worship their kind. They also safeguard the Gates of Celestia, and in order to keep their white heavens pure, they’ve taken to slaughtering most other creatures.” 

Jongho nearly spits the word: pure. There’s lingering hatred and disgust in his voice.

Your jaw drops as the information processes. Hands stilling, you go quiet as you try to connect the angel’s brutality to the vague story of your reincarnation. 

You’ve died before. Hongjoong had explained that you were separated from them once by death. He had once again been ambiguous with the details, but he had lamented about the grief he and the other demon lords had encountered.

The severance of your bond from their chests had been more painful than anything any had experienced. When the bond had snapped, it felt as if a piece of their hearts had been carved out alongside it; taking with you their hope and much of their joy. They’d been melancholy and extraordinarily lonesome for the years that followed. 

It had taken decades for them to manage the empty pain that settled in their guts. The missing bond left a gaping wound that they feared would never heal. The severance had made a home in their guts, singing of their lost love and mourning her unfortunate demise. 

Grief and self-hatred became commonplace amongst the palace. Each of the eight demons had taken some sort of fault for the incident. They blamed themselves for your demise - often lamenting in their inability to protect you as they had promised. 

You could sometimes feel the internal turmoil through the bond. 

However you didn’t blame them. You may not have known the full story, but you knew that you could never, in any capacity, blame them for your untimely demise. 

With the euphoric rush of love through your veins and the lovestruck, giddy look in their eyes, you know that there was not a single ounce of deceit in these demons. Their eyes followed you around the room, gentle smiles on their cheeks and bodies leaning into each other. They were careful with you, always dropping everything to return to your side should you need help. The demons even ensured that they lessen any burdens that weighed heavily on you, taking the hardships onto their own shoulders when they could. 

You could never find it in yourself to blame them. 

When you returned their look of sappy love, their cheeks reddened as they turned away. Despite spending years basking in your presence in a previous life, it still seemed they were weak for your sweet eyes. 

Under your still fingers, Jongho looks up at you. He tilts his head back into your hands when he notices your spaced expression, nudging you back into reality. Jongho, ever observant, is usually the first to notice when you drift into a ‘spaced out’ expression. He takes great care in gently bringing you back to reality, knowing that startling you may scare you or disrupt your peace. 

“Hey, Lovely -” he hums gently. His voice is sweet and soft, bringing your attention back to his tender features. “You’re safe here, you know that?”

Jongho’s hand reaches up from his position. He settles it against your cheek, fingers stroking the soft skin to turn your eyes to meet his. You can feel the waves of comfort he’s sending through your bond, letting the warmth surround you like a blanket. 

You nod tenderly in response. 

“I know, Stinky” you tease, pinching his cheek. Feeling a little giddy, you continue teasing the demon, laughing when he swats at your hands. 

“I was trying to be sweet!” He whines, lips pouted. “ - and you call me ‘Stinky?’” 

You dissolve into giggles again, leaning forward as you clutch your middle. Jongho has sat up, looking at you indignantly. Still laughing, you wiggle away from Jongho’s fingers as he reaches out to tickle you. 

Trying to escape the couch you’re positioned on, you wiggle against Jongho’s grasp. You’re no match for his strength, your struggle seemingly useless against his demonic stature. 

When Seonghwa descends into the room, you reach out for him with a cry. 

“Hwa! Save me, my Love!” 

The eldest is grinning, fangs poking out of his gums in sharp points. He’s laughing, having heard your whined struggle from the other room. With his arms crossed, he leans against the door frame and watches as you wiggle to escape Jongho’s fingers. 

He shakes his head, letting Jongho continue his torment as the others slowly enter the room. 

Mingi is the one to save you, lifting your body from Jongho’s grasp and throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal, hands bracing themselves on Mingi’s side to balance yourself. Laughter fills the room as the demon lords watch their lovers giggle, hearts full and chests filled with warmth. 

You recall the recent memory fondly as you peruse through the towering library of the palace. Seonghwa had promised to join you later, finishing his princely duties to read on the large sofa hidden within the shelves of books. 

Running your fingers across the spines, you marvel at the old books. Many of them are in languages you don’t understand, nor could you even fathom. Regardless, you enjoy feeling the worn books under your fingertips and smelling the scent of paper, both new and old. 

When you turn a corner of the labyrinth of a library, you’re met with an unfamiliar face. 

There's a man standing between the shelves in front of you. He’s tall, incredibly so, with pale white skin and golden eyes. With more sets of wings than you can count and numerous pairs of eyes on appendages that shouldn’t exist, you are appalled by the creature. 

Taking a step back with a stuttering heart, you place your hand over your chest. 

The creature seems to be looking at you, but with tens of eyes pointed in different directions, it’s hard to tell. In their hands, is a pointed white spear. The tip is a scarlet red, and you can’t tell if it’s coated in blood or if the spear’s natural color dons the crimson hue. 

Either way, you don’t think you want to find out. 

After a beat of terrifying silence, you dawdle on your feet, wondering if you should take off in a sprint. Seonghwa can’t be far. He promised to join you soon, so you know he’ll likely be headed in your direction soon. However, you wonder how long it will take to find you. After wandering through the library for a few minutes, Seonghwa may have to maneuver the winding aisles to search for you. 

Before you can move, the creature’s mouth pries open in a terrifying blood red gape. 

“What a foul excuse of a reincarnation.” 

The voice is garbled, deep and ominous, as if it isn’t used to speaking in the human tongue. You can barely decipher the words, but as the creature’s hand moves to twist the spear, you don’t wait to find out the next ones. 

Already turning over your shoulder, you take off into the maze of the library, hoping to lose the creature behind you. 

Heart stuttering and feet slipping on the hardwood floor, you puff out another breath as you sprint. Stomach in knots, you can feel bile rise into your throat and you choke as you try to swallow. Unsure of the nature of the creature, you panic as you slide through the winding hallways that the library maintains. 

Books upon books fly past your eyes as you scan for some sort of help. There’s thundering footsteps behind you and the scrape of something metal across the floor. You choke out a sob, heart squeezing in terror. 

Jongho’s words fill your head as you recall the memory of his description of angels. While you can’t be sure, you’re almost certain the creature hunting you is one of the heavenly terrors Jongho had described. 

You don’t know why it’s after you, nor do you know why it wants to hurt you. All you know is the creature has begun to chase you, its gaping red mouth screeching as you flee. 

Feet thundering across the floors, you feel your body weaken as the sprint drains your energy. You huff again, trying to continue pushing yourself through the library. Heart still swollen and terrified, you attempt to send some sort of panic down the bonds you hold. 

You’re unsure how to do so, the description of such methods had confused you immensely. However, you can’t manage to do much else as you continue to slide through the halls with the angelic creature on your heels. The sounds of books hitting the floor behind you fill your ears, likely being knocked over in the creature’s pursuit. 

Luck is not on your side. 

You don’t know the aisles of the library well, always needing Seonghwa or another of your lovers to guide you through the labyrinth. It won’t be long before you are boxed into a dead end. 

With a tremendous gulp of air, you attempt to hold in a sob that chokes you. 

“Call out my name,” you remember San’s sweet words upon your first meeting. “I’ll always be there.” 

Tears finally begin to leak from your eyes, you allow the sobs to escape. Salt fills your mouth as the tears seep into your lips. Before you can cry out for San, a heavy force is knocking the wind from your lungs. Thrown violently into the bookshelf across the room, a screech echoes through the halls as the impact pulses through your ribs. 

Feeling the bones shift and possibly shatter, you cry out in pain. Slamming into the ground, your body heavy and pained, you lay limp. You want to fight, raising your head to face the horrifying creature, but there’s blood on your lips. There’s a ringing in your ears and every shift of your ribs sends a bolt of pain through your body. 

Head dropping onto the hardwood, you heave a breath. Trying to keep your breathing steady and minimize the pain, you can’t keep your eyes on the creature as it descends towards you. 

Bile and blood in your throat, you spit at the creature’s feet. 

“Disgusting,” the horrifying voice churns out. 

You whimper. One of its feet pushes your head into the floor, it’s hand shifting the heavy spear in their grasp. Heaving, you try to struggle, tears still leaking from your eyes. 

Crying out again, you squeeze your fists, struggling against the pain of your ribs. There’s rising panic still echoing through your chest and you can’t breathe. The pain in your ribs is too much and the tremendous fear has grasped hold of your lungs. With blood on your lips, you cry out one last time. 

“San!” 

The creature stills. 

Its spear is raised over their head, poised to puncture your throat. With eyes shifting and humming violently, it appears to be nervous. It screeches a terrible sound, the note sending a cold shiver through your bones as you prepare to die. Your lungs are tight, no breath able to escape the cramped space. There’s an immense rush of thoughts in your head, but none of them are solitary. You can’t seem to think despite the influx of information racing around your consciousness. 

With eyes squeezed shut, you don’t see the barreling dark form crash through the library. 

Dark wings with a flash of white crash into the pale ones. A horrid screech echoes through the halls as bodies collide. Pressure is lifted from your skull, but you can’t bring your limp form to turn to watch the commotion. 

A demonic snarl fills the space. The noise is familiar, a shuddering reaction taking over your skin. Goosebumps rise on your arms as the sound strikes a chord in your chest. It’s not a reaction of fear; the sound nearly seeks to soothe you, in fact. 

Though it is filled with righteous anger, the snarl does not threaten you. 

With weary eyes, your tiled head manages to peak a glimpse of familiar wings. There’s a form crouched over your limp one. It’s a possessive stance, their tail flicking to and from as they hover over your wounded body. A hand slips over your hip, tender despite their tense muscles. They soothingly stroke the skin at your side, chest still snarling as they do so. 

Entire body covering yours, your chest finally sags with some form of relief. 

San has come. 

His body hovers over yours, tense and ready to pounce should the angel move to strike once more. His muscles are incredibly tight, holding himself above you in a protective stance. He aches to lower himself more, press his skin into yours so that the angel’s numerous eyes can’t see you anymore. 

San is anxious. His chest is tight with fear and head filled with an angry sort of lust that aches to tear into the angel that is raising itself onto its hands. Across the room, it shoves the books that have fallen away from itself. It’s clicking in some horrid sort of sound, and San presses closer to you, if at all possible. 

A growl echoes out of San’s chest, and you can feel the sound vibrate into your own back. San is furious. His tail flicks and whips against the ground and his wings extend to their full length. Blocking out the light from the sun, the angel is exposed to San’s true form. 

Eyes faded to a pure black, there is no white in San’s eyes. Fangs elongated and claws extended in a dark ominous color, San is truly demonic. There’s an aura of tremendous danger emanating from his body, but it does not reach you. 

Instead, you allow your heavy body to sink into the protective warmth San has pressed against you. 

As the angel moves to stand, another form barrels into the library. 

In a flash of light, two more demons are at San’s side. A dragon-like tail is sliding over your legs, the texture soothing despite the cold feeling. It tightens over your thighs, ensuring that it doesn’t aggravate any wounded skin. A set of feathered wings hovers over the three of you. The ebony silken feathers settle onto your skin, a soothing touch of comfort as they too extend fully. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung crouch at San’s side. Their eyes an ebony black, both demons an image of true ferocity.

The third body is Jongho’s. The scarlet tips of his massive wings seem to drip with blood as the crimson blends with the black. His tail slithers along the hardwood, the barb seeping a dark red venom as it slides across the floor. 

Jongho is standing above the angel, daring it to move. 

When you try to raise your head, a gentle shushing rings above your ears. A tender hand presses your weary body back down. 

“S’alright, my Star - lie still.” 

The command comes from Seonghwa’s deep voice. You don't know when he’d entered the library, too dazed and in pain to focus on much other than your heavy breathing. He’s settled at your side, humming gentle to soothe you as you whimper. 

Seonghwa’s true form is still hidden, rationality at the forefront of his mind when his eyes fell on your wounded body. With his stomach in his throat, Seonghwa kneels at your side. He’d been alerted to your panic on his way to the library, an immense rush of fear nearly bringing him to his knees. When he’d lunged to follow your cry, Seonghwa had felt San teleport to your side. Soothed by the knowledge of one of his lovers protecting you, Seonghwa allowed himself to approach your wounded body, despite the rage rising into his chest.

He runs his fingers over your ribs as you weep, gentle hushes falling from his lips. 

“M’so sorry, my Love - just a little longer. You’re doing so well for me.” 

You sink into the rush of protective heat that enters your veins, allowing Seonghwa’s bond to fill the forefront of your mind. When focused on his bond, the pain lessens in your ribcage. 

There are more rushed footsteps entering the hall, feet slamming into the floor and wind slamming into the walls as wings flap furiously. 

Yunho and Mingi join Jongho’s side, their worried eyes shifting to you as they pin the angel to the floor. It struggles under their grasp, too weak against the demon lords’ strength. Screeching violently, it thrashes when their grip tightens. Yunho’s claws draw blood, the golden ichor dripping from the terrifying creature. Mingi’s fangs press into his lips, aching to sink them into its skin in an act of vengeance. There’s an anger pressing into his chest, suffocating him from the inside. 

At the sight of your broken form, neither demon could resist the vengeance. 

A slow, ominous set of footsteps approach the fallen form of the angel. 

You can’t see him with your limp form gently hoisted into Yeosang’s strong grasp. Seonghwa has shifted you, pressing your wounded form into his lover’s arms as he uses healing magic to soothe the minor scrapes and bruises. Your ribs were broken, an injury more suited for Hongjoong’s immense healing magic. 

However, while Hongjoong is busy, Seonghwa is complacent as he heals what he can. You whimper into Yeosang’s chest, the demon running his hands through your hair. 

“S’alright, Dear - just a moment more, I promise.” Yeosang’s honeyed voice settles a cloud of comfort over you, distracting you from both the pain and the scene before you.

Hongjoong has stopped at the feet of the struggling angel. 

His true form reeks of a terrifying aura. It nearly emanates from his skin, the darkened ichor of his wings spread to their full length. The gold dripping over the humongous clawed tip of each wing is now blessed with darkened rubies - their crimson shine blocking the sunlight from reaching the angel’s form. His claws are long, clicking as he crouches to grasp the angel’s face between them.

Hongjoong’s lips are pulled into a snarl, fangs peaking over the edges. They drip with the same venom that runs through Jongho’s tail, ominously sizzling when it hits the angel’s skin. It appears to burn the creature, terrified howls escaping its jaws. 

Yeosang presses your face further into your chest. San and Wooyoung at his side slide to cover the scene with their bodies. 

“Don’t look, my Love. You’re safe now.” 

There’s a guttural, angry growl of a demonic, infernal language that you don’t understand. Hongjoong’s voice is warped as he speaks in the hellish tongue. You can’t see him, but the anger that suffocates Hongjoong’s chest melts into yours. 

You want to soothe him - or at least let him know you’re alright. However, with your injured body in Yeosang’s grasp, all you can do is send waves of comfort down your bond. 

You don’t see the subtle relaxation of Hongjoong’s shoulders, but the others do. 

Seonghwa silently ushers Yeosang to stand, pulling the three of you from the room. San and Wooyoung, satisfied by your safety, descend upon the angel’s form. The protective rage fills the room in a suffocating cloud. 

When the door to the library slams shut behind you, you hear Hongjoong’s final words. 

“Impudent fool. Say hello to Michael for me.” 

Then, fangs sink into skin and a sickening sound of bones snapping echo through the halls. 

Weeks later, after Hongjoong - the High King of Hell - has ensured your safety once more, you settle into the palace. 

The eight demons had spent weeks apologizing for their inability to protect you before the angel impeded on their palace. You had hushed their protests, gently soothing each of them and explaining that you were simply grateful for your safety. 

San had cried the night after the incident, staying up after you’d fallen unconscious. Pressing his teary eyes into your skin, he recalls the fear in your voice when he’d heard the call of his name. Clutching your hands tightly, San promises to never leave your side. 

Seonghwa would pull him away later, passing his form into Yunho’s arms. The taller man simply held his lover tightly, pressing a kiss to San’s forehead. 

The eight are more cautious of your safety now. You’re nearly always accompanied by at least one of your lovers, but you don’t mind their presence. They’re not willing to risk losing you a second time. 

In the back of your mind, you question your sanity. A few weeks ago, you never would have expected to be living in the depths of Hell, let alone in a relationship with eight of the rulers of its domains. However, after experiencing the bond, and accepting the connection between you and the demons, you can’t imagine your life elsewhere. 

The demons treat you like a queen - Hongjoong even often calls you such. They’ve fallen back into practiced routines, already seemingly knowing most of your common mannerisms. After decades together in the past, the eight demons are well aware of every piece of your mind and body. 

In fact, they’ve taken to enjoying re-experiencing much of your memories. 

After confirming that your ribs had healed nicely, the demons had become increasingly more affectionate. They could hardly stand to let their fingers leave your skin, always brushing a hand across your arms or running them through your hair to feel you melt into their sides. 

Yeosang, a demon you had first taken to be quite shy, is more conniving than you thought. 

He, often alongside San and Wooyoung, loves nothing more than watching your body melt with their words and touches. They adore the way you whine when they whisper something sultry, or turn away with heat in your cheeks when they drag their hand down your spine. 

Yeosang in particular, likes to wrap his dragon-like tail around your thigh - a motion that sends a bolt of arousal into your gut. As you’re still learning to control the emotions you send down the bond, Yeosang revels in the heat of arousal that lingers in your stomach as he tightens the appendage around your upper thigh. 

He smirks, and you nearly whine when San runs his fingernails across your scalp as he does so. Hongjoong is usually the one to end your suffering, pulling the tricksters away with a happy smile, lingering in the smell of your arousal and the woozy, embarrassed smile on your cheeks. 

“That’s enough, you two,” the High King chuckles. 

However, he can’t help running his hand across your throat, passing a few fresh, purple marks as he does so. You lean into his hands, and Hongjoong loves the way you tilt your head back to look at him. 

It seems all eight of the rulers of Hell have a thing for corruption. 

Yunho and Mingi are the least likely to tease you on a daily basis. While they both enjoy your flustered smiles and bashful eyes, both of the taller demons also have taken to becoming your protectors when you’re feeling shy. 

Mingi is the one to pull you into his chest, letting you bury your face to hide from prying eyes. He pouts, feeling a swell of protective excitement enter his chest. Mingi would giggle, a giddy smile overtaking his features as he locked eyes with his other lovers. 

Yunho follows a similar pattern. The tallest of the eight demons, with his supernatural size and strength, adores hoisting your form over his shoulder and dragging you away from the teasing. Yunho’s body shakes with laughter as you squeal, his big hands gripping your thighs and stabilizing your form so that you don’t fall. Yunho loves the rush of adrenaline that surges through his skin as he grips you tight. 

If you pat your fists on his back in an effort to escape his hold, Yunho simply pats his massive palm across your ass. The motion usually results in another squeal, which sends a pang of arousal into Yunho’s stomach. 

Seonghwa, the eldest of the demon lords, expresses his love both physically and emotionally. He prefers acts of service and words of affirmation in comparison to many of his other lovers. Seonghwa, however, is still incredibly affectionate. It’s much less obvious than some of the other demons, but Seonghwa still craves your fingers on his skin. 

He’s often seen wrapping a wing around you as you walk, or his tail wrapped around your ankle as you sit. His affection is subtle, nearly missed in most circumstances. 

Seonghwa, however, is also incredibly possessive, you’ve learned. 

After the incident, a sinking feeling pangs through his gut at the thought of strangers growing too close. He’s usually fine with other demons he trusts; however, he’d be dead in his grave before he’d let another angel within a mile of your form. 

When approached by a lower demon, Seonghwa had pulled you into his lap on his throne. His palm lay across your stomach, possessively spread as he pulled you back into his chest. The eldest demon nearly growled when eyes fell on your neck. However, instead of acting irrationally, Seonghwa simply tilted your head back against him. 

Your hair fell away from your neck, allowing the lower demon to see the faint marks of hickies sucked into your skin. One look from the lower level demon had him turning away. 

Jongho, on the other hand, is less physically affectionate. You don’t have any issue with this - in fact, you’ve come to appreciate it. While you do consider yourself touch-starved, you also can be slightly touch-averse in most situations. Though you crave the touch of your demon soulmates, sometimes you can’t help but shrink away when their hands reach for you. It’s unconscious, a movement that you can’t necessarily prevent no matter what you try. 

When these moments occur and the idea of physical touch is too overstimulating, Jongho completely understands. The others have no issue as well, but San can’t help but pout when he can’t snuggle his body into your side. 

With Jongho, the youngest of the demon rulers, your love is apparent in different languages. The both of you turn to quality time and acts of service to express your care for each other. Simply sitting in the same room, doing your own tasks, is enough for the two of you. 

However, that doesn’t mean that Jongho is any less conniving than the other boys. 

In fact, it was his mischievous nature that resulted in your current position. 

Earlier that morning, Jongho and the other three teasing demons had nearly sent you over the edge. The trio had convinced Jongho to join their games, allowing the younger to whisper sultry remarks over breakfast, his voice quiet enough so that only you would hear. 

Not used to Jongho’s forwardness, you weakened at the knees. 

Running his strong hands over your waist to keep you steady, Jongho smirked at the shiver that wracked your body. 

“You doing okay, Pretty?” 

Though he knows the answer, Jongho greatly enjoys watching you melt at the name. 

Quickly following the youngest, Yeosang had followed with his own teasing. His head tilted back and body leaned against the door frame, Yeosang looked delicious in his slightly opened shirt. He had his arms crossed over his chest, uttering small hums of agreement as you spoke. 

When you turned to ask him about his breakfast, Yeosang leaned forward. His head nearly bumping yours, Yeosang’s frame towered over yours. His wings spread wide, allowing you to take in his demonic glory, Yeosang swung his tail over your waist. 

Using the appendage as leverage, he yanked your form towards him with a strong pull. 

Crashing into his chest, Yeosang smirked at your squeak. Your ears heated in embarrassment, face turning away to avoid his sultry eyes. His tail tightened around your waist, his head angled down to look at you.

“M’sorry, Baby.” His honeyed voice purrs. Yeosang drops a hand to stroke low over your hip and dip inward into your upper thigh. “I was under the impression you were breakfast.” 

Your jaw falls open at the remark, stunned at the usually quiet boy’s demeanor. Yeosang resists a giggle, feeling your arousal and shock filter through the bond. Instead of teasing you further, he presses a kiss to your cheek and backs out of the room, allowing San and Wooyoung to take his place. 

Over the rest of the day, San and Wooyoung join the boy’s teasing. The two’s teasing is worse since you’re forced to ward off two lusty demons rather than just one. 

For hours, you can’t escape them. 

They’re handsy and fervent, refusing to take their hands off your body. Lips pressed to any bare skin they can reach, your skin continues to heat until you worry you’ll pass out. 

Finally, when you’re given a moment alone, you plot your revenge. 

Digging underneath your bed, you pull out a box hidden under the depths of the huge mattress. After ordering the parcel, you’d hidden it away, hoping to keep prying eyes away from the contents. It’s light in your hands, and when you pry the life off, a smirk graces your features as you take in the fabric. 

You struggle into the fabric, letting the straps snap against your thighs and the lace cover the barest of skin. The black material is thin, not really allowing any of your form to be covered. However, the twisting red flowers descend through the lace, hiding some more intimate areas from view. While not entirely covered, you know the barest of glimpse is enough to have them drooling. 

With the other necessary tools at your side, you descend to the main common room of the palace. 

No one is within the barren space, which you’re grateful for, but you know you don’t have much time. Placing the other materials at your feet, you take out the jar of salt. 

Sprinkling the salt in a thick line around your body, you begin to form a circle. You’re certain this method will work, even going so far as to confirm with a witch you’d recently befriended. She assured you the salt circle was enough to keep even the High King from entering the space. 

Once you're satisfied with your little space, you sit back against the lounge chair you placed in the center. With a hum, you fiddle with the water and snacks you’ve brought along with you. You’ve ensured that you have enough materials to last you at least a few hours within the confines of your new space. Your phone is fully charged and a new book at your side, you relax back into the dark cushions of the velvet beneath you. 

It’s only a few moments before the first of your demon lovers enters the room. 

Wooyoung had been in search of you, ready to continue his teasing from earlier. However, his mouth runs dry and his jaw falls open as his eyes lay onto the sight before him. 

Donned in the nicest lingerie you could afford, you lay spread against the cushions of Seonghwa’s lounge chair, eyes focused on the book in your hands. You appear to be ignoring him, not looking up as Wooyoung nearly collapses at his feet. 

You can feel the bolt of arousal that Wooyoung can’t keep from radiating into your bond, and you suppress a haughty smirk. 

“Oh, seven hells -” Wooyoung curses. He can feel his pants tightening around his crotch, the lace adorning your skin doing horrible things to his mind and body. 

Stepping forward, Wooyoung descends on your space, only to shout an indignant cry when the circle of salt restricts his access. The two-toned demon nearly snarls when he looks down at his feet. 

The white circle of salt lays menacingly before him, nearly teasing the demon. 

Looking up from your book, you finally allow a smirk to don your features. 

“What’s wrong, Woo?” you simper, trying to mimic his earlier teasing tone. 

At your voice, Wooyoung allows his chest to release the snarl he’d held back. Heaving a breath, the demon’s wings shudder in some sort of repressed arousal. 

“Baby -” Wooyoung purrs, dragging out the last syllable in a tone that wets the fabric between your thighs. “Let me in.” 

You giggle, letting the book fall into your lap as you look at Wooyoung. Shaking your head once, you gesture to the salt surrounding you, a pleased smile on your face. You’re more than glad that your plan has settled into place perfectly. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my Prince.” 

The name sends another shiver through Wooyoung’s entire being, and you smirk again, knowing the effect the name has on him. 

Wooyoung presses his fists against the invisible barrier, eyes darkening in a dangerous arousal. You know if you leave the safety of your circle, Wooyoung will chase you down like a predator. You’re the only thing his eyes can see, the darkening irises acknowledging his lust. 

He flits his eyes across the circle, trying to pinpoint the weakest area. However, you’ve made sure to enforce the salt in a thick layer, ensuring that not even the High King could penetrate your space. 

With an enraged snarl, Wooyoung begins to pace the outside of the circle. His wings puff up in a dangerous gust of wind, eyes never leaving your bare skin. The two-toned demon’s hair begins to fall from its half-up style as he shakes his head in some sort of aroused anger. It frames his face nicely, making him look even more breathtaking than before. 

In his anger, he doesn’t notice San and Seonghwa approaching from behind. 

Their reactions are similar to the raging demon before them. Wide eyes and opened jaws, you nearly giggle at their awestruck expressions. Seonghwa is the first to spot the salt circle, a breathy huff escaping his chest. He toes the line, testing its integrity. A scoff fills the room when it does not bend to his power. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Darling.” 

San’s voice has dropped into a lower tone, one you know is reserved for more salacious encounters. You’ve heard the tone on several occasions, so the timbre of his voice melts your carefully crafted demeanor. San knows the effect his voice has on you, watching as a suppressed shiver overtakes your body and sends goosebumps up your arms. 

San hopes that he can weaken your resolve enough to allow his entrance - pulling out all the moves he knows make you wobble at the knees. 

You hold out, shifting your attention back to your book in order to appear indifferent. The motion makes San frown, his plan to break your resolve seemingly failing. 

San joins Wooyong’s pacing, the two lustful demons appearing predatory as they continue to scan your form with dark eyes. 

“Oh, you fuckin’ tease” The voice echoes from the doorway. Yeosang has entered the room, Yunho and Mingi at his sides. The taller boys are pressed together, Yunho stepping forward as if he’s not sure if what he’s seeing is real. 

Only Hongjoong and Jongho are missing from the group, though the High King is likely the only one who hasn’t teased you that afternoon. 

With the others approaching your little space, you extend your body to be seen by their prying eyes, feeling like prey under their hungry gazes. You don’t mind, the arousal in your gut simmering as you feel content in your well-executed revenge. 

“Let me in, Pretty Baby” San hums. He’s still pacing around the edge of your little domain, voice hungry and pants tight. “M’gonna fuckin’ ruin you. Gonna let me?” 

You hum happily, knowing you’ve riled San up to his maximum. His darkened eyes and puffy wings are evident of his arousal. He preens under your gaze, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. San wants to feel your smooth skin under his palms and graze the lace of your pretty lingerie with his fingers. Fuck - he wants to pull away the little strings of fabric with his teeth. 

Yeosang is at the edge of the salt now, joining his little teasing trio from earlier. “Our little tease,” he simpers. “You’re real good at getting whatcha’ want, aren’t ya?”

Another happy hum vibrates through your chest. 

“Maybe.” 

A growl follows your happy sound, Yeosang’s scaled tail sliding across the floor as it flicks in a barely concealed anger. 

“Pretty fuckin’ baby,” Mingi sings. He’s held back, still at Yunho’s side. The two are not necessarily on your ‘hit’ list. The two, alongside Hongjoong, were the least likely to tease you today, however your revenge plot sadly has to include them. The salt circle isn’t partial to its denial, no matter how forgiving you are. 

The six demons continue to gaze into your tiny domain, letting their eyes dry over your exposed flesh as they ache to touch. There’s several strings of arousal echoing down your bonds, but you manage to ignore them for now. 

When Hongjoong enters the room with Jongho behind him, all he sees is six demonic forms blocking his sight. He can’t see around their bodies, impervious to their arousal. 

“S’going on in here?” 

Faces turn to look at the High King, his gold-adorned wings glittering in the light. Yunho and Mingi step aside, letting their leader’s eyes fall to your sultry form. 

Body draped in the most elegant lingerie he’s ever seen, Hongjoong’s face melts into a haughty smirk. He can’t tear his eyes from the lace, scanning you head to toe and back again. With darkened eyes, Hongjoong looks a little intimidating. Ebony wings expanded, Hongjoong looks every bit the picture of a succubus. 

He stalks forward, the boys parting for his entrance. Standing at the precipice of your tiny territory, Hongjoong’s nearly feral gaze sends a bolt of arousal into your already lustful gut. The High King has never looked more ravishing than he does now. His dark clothing clings to his skin, defining his muscles. The fangs pressed into his lips are gaudy, Hongjoong’s tongue flicking over their points. 

Your eyes now fixed on Hongjoong, the book finally falls to the floor. Hitting the ground with an audible ‘thump,’ the other demon lords watch as your attention becomes transfixed on their High King. You wish you could resist his whims, but you’re just as weak as the rest when it comes to Kim Hongjoong. 

“Our Little Love,” Hongjoong hums. “S’got you all cooped up?” 

He toes the line as Seonghwa had, feeling it wane at his strength. It still holds fast, the witch’s confirmation holding true. While it may wither at Hongjoong’s power, it still manages to persevere, keeping your body away from their aching touch. 

“Sannie and the others were mean t’me today,” you whine, turning in your seat. Rubbing your thighs together, you try to appear indifferent, but you’re sure they’ve caught a whiff of your scent by now. The evidence is apparent in Wooyoung’s puff, his chest swelling with another faint growl. 

“Hmm - were they?” Hongjoong deepened timbre purrs. “Did I bother you too, Pretty Baby?” 

“No, Joongie.” 

Your response is quick, always ready to respond to your High King. 

Hongjoong hums again happily. A pulse of delighted excitement throbs from his end of the bond. 

“Boys.” 

Seven heads snap his way. Despite their craving to keep their sights on you, all seven princes know their High King’s command is absolute. 

“Leave.” 

The command is quick, leaving no room for argument. 

Wooyoung and San nearly whine in disagreement, bodies sagging with a near growl. However, hidden from your eyes, Hongjoong throws a look over his shoulder. It’s suspicious - a knowing look of agreement on his features. There’s a plot afoot, a silent accord passing through eight demons. 

Seonghwa shoves the younger boys out the door, sending his king a salacious look over his shoulder. 

When Hongjoong turns back to you, his tongue flicks over his fangs. 

“C’mere, Sweetheart. You're not mad at Joongie, are ya?” 

You shake your head softly, already leaning forward off the plush chair. Hongjoong’s smirk widens, eyelids falling closed in a haughty look. He holds his hand out as another wave of arousal pulses through your bond. Wings shuddering, Hongjoong lets his head fall back as his eyes close. 

Humming pleasantly, Hongjoong beckons you closer, watching your wary eyes fall to his fingers. You throw a look over his shoulder at the closed door, ensuring the others have fully left the room. 

When you slide off the cushions, Hongjoong’s eyes seem to darken even further. 

“S’it, Pretty Girl. Wanna’ kiss ya’ -” he muses, “Gonna’ let me?” 

You nod fervently, feet dawdling to the edge of the salt. You hesitate at the edge, still leery to the trap you’re certain Hongjoong has laid. However, at Hongjoong’s gentle praising, you don’t think you have the will to resist much longer. 

When your hand just crosses the border of salt, reaching for Hongjoong’s, he’s already grasped ahold of your fingers. He pulls you quick and tight against his chest, humming happily at the squeak of surprise. Your lace clad body presses snuggly against his front, and Hongjoong’s head knocks back as he feels your chest rub against his own. 

Unable to struggle against his firm grip, you let out a little whimper when Hongjoong’s hands begin to wander. They drop to your sides, fingering the lace at your hips. He slides his fore fingers under the straps, stroking the bare skin with tender caresses. With a deep growl, Hongjoong presses your crotch against his own, eliciting a whine when something thick brushes against your inner thighs. 

With your head turning cloudy, Hongjoong drops his head to suck gently on your throat. You whine, throwing your head back further to allow him to nibble tender with his fangs. 

“Pretty girl,” the High King purrs, “Gonna fuck you stupid, my love.” 

His promise weakens your knees and you find yourself sagging against his form. Before Hongjoong can suck another red mark into your skin, the sound of the door opening fills your ears. 

A small part of you recognizes the con, attempting to pry yourself from Hongjoong’s grasp to throw yourself back into the salt circle. However, Hongjoong’s fingers are tight, resisting the struggle and chuckling as you whine. The sound even makes his head roll back as he savors in the sound. 

Before you can gather more strength to break free, there’s another body pressed against your back. They push you snuggly into Hongjoong’s chest, their own vibrating with a deep chuckle. You can tell from the form of his chest, and the deep timbre of their voice, that the form behind you is San’s. There’s more hands grasping your skin, prying lace away from your body as you struggle. 

The air is heavy with arousal and there’s a pooling in your panties. Fingers swipe against the material, eliciting a stuttered gasp from your chest. Another chuckle fills the air and a tail wraps tightly around your waist - Yeosang. 

San’s hands are around your breasts, pulling at the nipples through the thin, barely-there fabric. He keens at your next whine, letting his body take your weight when you lean into his hands. Yunho, Mingi and Jongho are nearby, hands just as needy as the others. Jongho patiently waits his turn, knowing the reward was far too sweet to hasten. 

“Oh, you’re so fucked, my Darling.” 

bonus: 

ateez, appearing in the reader’s room: my love, why is there a summoning circle on your bed? 

reader: I got lonely :(( 

a/n: what is up my lovely readers?? this fic got a little spicy I guess :o this is about as much smut as I’m willing to write for now, but I hope y’all enjoyed it! Idk if this fic is cohesive at all, it’s kind of just a jumble of thoughts I have about Ateez sometimes, but I hope y’all like it regardless :D <3

#ateez x reader #poly!ateez x reader #poly ateex #ot8 x reader #ot8 ateez #Kim hongjoong x reader #ateez au #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez smut #park seonghwa x reader #song mingi x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #jung yunho x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #demon au #hongjoong x you #seonghwa x you #san smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst

[moccahobi]

Tangled Mess: Together

Summary: Yoongi finally tells Jungkook what has been putting distance between them. 

Paring: Hoseok x GN Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook

Genre: Soulmate AU, Grad School AU, Young Professional AU, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: A Breakup

Word Count: 590 words

A/N: I am so sorry for the consistent delays in posting! Life has been super hectic but imma try to get back to posting this series regularly! I will queue up a few posts so that even when life gets hectic again, there will be a buffer. Thank you all for your patience~

Tag List: @@daisies-and-dandelionpuffs

Part 7 << Masterlist >> Part 9

Yoongi was fretting. He knew he was but it was all that he could do to stop overthinking all that could possibly go wrong. He’d hurt Jungkook and would continue to hurt Jungkook. Tonight Yoongi would lay out his feelings and insecurities and watch as Jungkook gently turned him down and their friendship was irreparably damaged. 

Hoseok seemed to think it’d go well. Hoseok always seemed overly hopeful about his relationship with Jungkook. 

Hoseok was wrong though.

Jungkook didn’t like him back. Couldn’t like him back. Jungkook would be too kind to explicitly say that Yoongi’s crush made him uncomfortable and they’d slowly drift apart because Jungkook would stop initiating things. The friend group would fracture as people choose who they liked hanging out with more. All because Yoongi caught stupid feelings. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Hyung! I’m here!” Jungkook was entering slowly, taking off his shoes and jacket. He looked apprehensive and shy, especially as Yoongi looked at him like a deer in the headlights. 

They should have met at a cafe or something. Some sort of neutral place. But Yoongi was a coward who needed the comfort of his home to share all this. 

“Come sit down! I made you some tea.” Yoongi said, guiding Jungkook to the couch and handing him some tea. 

“You look nervous, hyung. Would you like to hold hands?” Jungkook. Oh sweet Jungkook. 

Yoongi nodded, but let Jungkook initiate, his hand a limp mass that Jungkook rubbed comforting circles into. The warmth of Jungkook’s hand was something Yoongi would savor for as long as he could. 

“So as I said… this distance is all because of me.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

*Gotta pull the bandaid off*

“It’s because I like you r-romantically and I don’t want it to affect our relationship or change the friend group. It is also because I’m shit at tough and emotional conversations and even when we are just discussing changing boundaries, I get so overwhelmed. It’s why I don’t date tons. Because it’s just so hard and tiring to share changes and I didn’t want to put that emotional labor on you. You don’t deserve it… but also I don’t expect you to return these feelings. Actually I am so sure that you’ll grow distant after hearing this but I had to share. I couldn’t let you think that you were the cause of this distance. It is me and my stupid stupid feelings. Stupid old me who needed some distance to not fall deeper for you. I know it’s so stupid and I am so sorr--”

Jungkook was wrapping his arms around Yoongi, holding him tightly to his (big) chest.

“This has clearly been stressing you out a ton.” Jungkook finally said, loosening his hold on Yoongi. Yoongi didn’t leave from where he was though, enjoying Jungkook’s warmth. 

“I get if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” 

Jungkook started laughing, his voice floating around Yoongi, “Hyung. I’ve had a crush on you since you first started complaining about capitalism. I kept on thinking about how smart and cool you are. And when you play piano? Or work out? You get so into it and so focused and I just love it so much. If I don’t want to be friends anymore it’s because I want to be boyfriends.” 

“Oh.” 

Yoongi slowly wrapped his arms around Jungkook.

“We will need to figure out how to chat about boundaries though.” 

“I… I think I could do that.” Yoongi nodded, pressing his face into Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“We will do it together.” 

“Together.” 

#wkcnet #bts fanfic #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #bts yoonkook #bts mxm #bts mxr #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #bts hoseok #bts hoseok x reader

[icanttypo]

OH MY GOD, I JUST REALIZED. EPISODE 7 HAS SO MANY ADDITIONAL SYMBOLIC TAROT REFERENCES. I WAS HALF ASLEEP AND I JUST. SHOT UP IN A COLD SWEAT. SO LISTEN TO MY SLEEP DEPRIVED RAMBLE ABOUT ONE OF MY HOBBIES AND MY HYPERFIXATION. I WON'T ADD SCREENSHOTS OF THE SCENES, BUT I'LL PROVIDE TAROT CARDS WHEN NECESSARY!

1. "The Star": This one is the most obvious because of the stakes miniseries. We already know the pattern of all the vampires being named after tarot cards, yadda yadda. The star in tarot comes right after the tower, symbolizing rebirth and hope in the wake of destruction. Clearly, this is meant to be two metaphors in a trenchcoat because if you consider her backstory in this universe, her becoming the daughter of the vampire queen is somewhat of a more hopeful end. If you ignore the fact that almost everyone died in that universe, at least. Also baby Finn??? What's going to happen to him??? Please??? Am I the only one terrified about that baby??? BUT ANYWAYS OFF TOPIC. TAROT TIME.

2. "The Tower": Although not explicitly referenced, though maybe they did call it the tower idk, is what comes before the star, a sudden upheavel. You can see it pictured as below.

The tower, although generally thought to be a negative card like death, is actually more of a positive one. Yes, sudden change is scary, but if a house is built on shaky foundations, no matter what, it will fall. This card is only negative if you refuse to accept life for what it is, which seems to be pretty in line with the theme of Fiona and Cake so far.

You'll immediately see the parallel to the final scene if you look at this picture. With the birds (or vampires) falling with them, the smoke and the tower, with a dark sky... The only difference is Bonnie and Marcy were holding one another, which I find to be interesting. There's many different decks, but considering the AT crew is probably going off of the Rider-Waite deck, (yes I spelled it wrong, sue me), I hardly believe that was unintentional. I think it's to go to show that even if they may not be happily in love in every universe, you can't deny that there is some kind of soulmate au fuckery going on. Their two options in any given universe is: ride together, and / or die together.

I'm pretty sure there was also The Devil symbology with The King, and there was something going on with Simon's bones, but I'll leave that for tomorrow.

#fionna and cake #tarot #adventure time #I'm going apeshit over these last two episodes #AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE KISS AT THE END THAT WAS SO CUTE #and aaaah!!! all the symbology and themes and and aaagh #please send help im going into adventure time hell

[mdhwrites]

The Take On The Owl House I Hate the Most

Kind of because I see it WAY too easily. I probably wouldn’t actually make a blog about this because I could see it landing me in hot water but... Well, I keep talking TOH not liking the fact that it’s a kid’s show, that it’s a fantasy show, etc. like that. It doesn’t like comedy of kid’s shows, it doesn’t like the moralizing, Dana explicitly chose Disney because they would give her 22 minute time slots unlike other kid’s shows right now. It does create a show that feels different but also feels like it’s not wearing the skin it wants to be wearing.

That’s not the take though. That’s all stuff I happily agree with and have talked about in the past. No, this take is one I wish I agreed with less but that the show possibly supports and I REALLY wish it didn’t at ALL. The show wants to be a CW-esque, teenage/adult oriented, drama. And if it were... Luz would be wanting to fuck Eda.

Now normally I would hear someone pitch me this and go “Okay, you can go do your edgy AU. Have fun.” I’m not interested but fandom will do as fandom does. It only makes me cringe and recoil into myself because... How else do you explain the complete and total worship and obsession over Eda that Luz has? The first episode explicitly makes it clear that if Luz doesn’t want to do something, she won’t. In fact, the first THREE episodes, all reinforce that. Someone tells her to do something mundane and she goes off to have her own adventure. To have her own fantasy. Meanwhile, Eda is CONSTANTLY shitting on her and belittling that fantasy and that doesn’t really stop until post Once Upon a Swap. EIGHT EPISODES IN. And Luz and Eda have ONE more episode that has them together in a major way, Adventure in the Elements, after that for the entire season. That is the basis for Luz deciding to throw away her mom and not only go save Eda but destroy the portal. That’s not who Luz is, even in S1. She is too self interested in her own fantasy. It’s part of the problem with the Found Family as I’ve discussed before.

So this raises the reasonable question of, if Luz doesn’t find Eda’s normal work interesting, won’t listen to her, isn’t getting properly taught and barely has anything to do around the house, why does she stick around? Well... In episode four, we get this.

And that comment isn’t really new for the show. Eda’s attractiveness is just a blatant fact. She is made out not only to be attractive, but sexually attractive, MULTIPLE TIMES in at least the first season. Her looks get more attention, including by Luz, than AMITY, who is easily the next character who’s looks are even mentioned or glorified. In fact, her being on the market is a topic that crops up more than once in the series. Hell, it’s one of the first things we know about her, that people want to fuck her, as it’s in the fucking pilot. Warden Wrath finds her SO ALLURING as to drop his job to get a DATE with her.

And yes, Raine exists. Does Raine make sense with how Eda is portrayed in the first season, as someone who is happily on the market but also tired of how many assholes she meets on it? No. Admittedly, Eda’s relationship with... Relationships doesn’t make a lot of sense in general but she absolutely doesn’t feel like a character who is mourning the loss of their soulmate, which is absolutely how the show tries to portray it in S2.

She feels a lot more like she fucks around and finds out a lot of guys are assholes. There’s a reason why it was REALLY popular to ship Gruncle Stan and her when S1 was all that was out.

Worse yet, if you want to say Amity proves Luz isn’t into older women or the like, we get this chestnut from fucking First Day.

“And maybe meet a hot, yet vulnerable, upperclassmen.”

There’s... A lot of problems with this line but it also would fit WAY better in, you know... A CW drama and not a kid’s show. Especially from your MAIN FUCKING CHARACTER. She CANONICALLY, because TOH doesn’t think about its jokes WHATSOEVER, has unhealthy, fucked up relationship fantasies. Especially with school. After all, if it was to make them better, she could have said angsty, hurt, troubled, etc. But it’s VULNERABLE. Vulnerabilities are explicitly to be TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF.

*eye twitch*

Now, I do want to say that Eda did take her in and gave her a chance. Luz doesn’t do well with that chance, it’s less than one episode before she tells Eda to shove it for not thinking she’s not special enough, but you can maybe make a case there. She also gets with Amity. So if you wanted to, I dunno, prove that Luz was written in a way that made her seem more interested/cared about Amity more than Eda, especially since S1 does not earn that sort of interest, are there examples of that?

*dead eye stares the camera*

“Don’t you want to go save your girlfriend?” “I do but I’d rather be here and be prepared for if you guys need help.” This is from Clouds on the Horizon. Admittedly, her fear is warranted... But she literally would rather do NOTHING in order to support Eda, because she is explicitly not a part of this plan, than go help unstick her girlfriend. This is also the episode where Luz blatantly ignored Odalia threatening Lumity’s existence so that she can focus on saving the white boy there and get into a position that better, you know, helps. Eda. With the specific motivation that Eda is in trouble, despite the fact that she hasn’t made a plan for how they’re not all about to DIE! Like if Alador didn’t step in, Luz’s plan didn’t mean SHIT. At least Amity was actually dealing with the current problem while Luz was only focused on “Eda is in trouble. I need a way that gets me to Eda.” I personally vouch that the fact that it saved Hunter was tangential as Gus is MORE than powerful enough to make Hunter disappear and replace him with a clone and that’s an even less complex plan than what Luz made up on the fly.

Don’t like that? How about her desperate need for Eda’s approval, to be seen as a peer of hers, STILL, instead of being willing to talk to her, in Titan Where Art Thou? Or that Luz specifically needs to make sure Eda is okay in King’s Tide while her friends, who do not know the human realm or have connections there, are being forced through a portal? Including her girlfriend. How about the simple fact that Luz is WAY more honest with Eda than she literally ever is with Amity?

It’s all just REALLY awkward. But in the context of a CW show, it’s still not good writing, but it’s in line with those absurdities WAY more than with a kid’s shows absurdities. In fact... That’s kind of true in general for TOH. Having the twist that a relative ruined your life because you were better than them and they only became successful because of that choice? That’s in line. The comedy styling leaning more on either pure misery of a couple characters that the writers obviously hate and have there to make mean statements on? Yeah, that sounds right. The refusal to resolve plotlines, especially happily, when it could instead be milked for drama for the next three seasons? The fact that it obviously set itself up to go on for eternity? That sounds about right too. And I will admit I could be wrong. I don’t watch CW shows. Degrassi, Glee, Riverdale? They hold no interest for me because I don’t like mean spirited they often feel. But... with time, TOH absolutely feels more and more mean spirited. And even early on, that ridiculing of other media and fantasy and wanting to have fun all feels in line with that sort of spirit. Including the lack of interest in its fantasy elements.

Eda and Luz aren’t even the only ones that frankly make more sense like this. Lilith’s break with reality almost, and constant need for validation (including from Luz, including as a teacher which is uncomfortable in Escaping Expulsion in general, LET ALONE IN THIS CONTEXT) fits more in line with the sort of ‘insanity’ that those shows might give a character who’s life collapses. To add a chaotic element. Speaking of, that also fits the Bad boy of Hunter, who gets shipped with all the girls who are his age. Not in fandom BUT IN THE SHOW. All three of his introductions to Luz, Amity and Willow work as the start of a relationship arc, INCLUDING WITH THE LESBIAN. And... You know... Luz is Bi... And there are TERRIBLE plot lines you can do with that. *shudders and gags*

Meanwhile, characters like King, Gus, Willow, frankly Belos and his regime, and all the one off villains that other kid’s shows would embrace... Are kind of pushed to the side. Pushed to the side for characters who would feel entirely at home on something far more adult oriented. Something that was trying to be edgy and shocking and constantly have twists that prove how terrible these characters are. It even commonly sets it up. All of the reasons why Lumity WOULDN’T happen were part of why Lumity was so interesting between S1 and 2. But a lot of those plotlines admittedly felt more like this. Tackling racism, classism, Amity’s need to be the best, Luz’s flighty personality, etc. like that. Not helped of course by the fact that Hunter IS older than Luz and so IS a “hot yet vulnerable upper classman’ as he’s really only missing the BIG muscles of the dude Luz thought was “questing in all the right ways” back in episode TWO.

And if you’re wondering why this take has lingered with me... It’s because I keep asking why creative choices were made for The Owl House. Why are characters like this? Why is it a kid’s show when it obviously doesn’t like that it’s a kid’s show? Why is Luz so obsessed with Eda when they spend such little time together? Let alone POSITIVE time together?

And the idea that at one point it was meant to be an adult oriented cartoon, like Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel, but was just jammed into a kid’s show sized hole so it could be on broadcast television does help explain some of it. Do I think it’s actually true? NO! God no! Absolutely fucking not. Not for a second. Or bare minimum, I REALLY hope not. Also, I do want to point out that I don’t think the show would be GOOD like this, just that it leans weirdly on these sorts of tropes and writing styles and that it accidentally gives really awkward ways to interpret these characters, especially when what we’re told doesn’t match what we’re shown.

But ever since the concept was introduced to me, I could never quite get it out of my head. And I guess I just needed others to suffer with me. I’m sorry.

=========

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

#the owl house criticism #TOH Critical

[sars-wulf]

Soulmate AU? Soulmate AU.

In my soulmate AU, Always and Forever (AAF), Anne finally figures out she’s not very straight from a sex ed class lesson. The teacher also describes soulmates and soul bonds.

Soulmates are the result of a soul bond, which is when two or more people that are emotionally compatible decide to bond their souls.

A soul bond is a serious decision that binds you to another person for the rest of your life, possibly the next. People who have soulmates who have passed away report feeling a ‘pull’ from beyond the grave.

When you soul bond, you feel intensely connected to a person. You can feel their emotions. All their physical and emotional pain, joy, and sadness—it is the ultimate commitment that cannot be undone.

They don’t teach kids much more than that, as the adults are afraid they might attempt it too young. Creating a bond so young also allows for children to become independent from their parents. It’s one of those things that kids in tough situations try to do in order to escape.

I just have to figure out what pushes them to create the bond.

I was thinking maybe Sasha’s and Marcy’s parents aren’t so great. Sasha’s parents treat her like a trophy, something to show off and not an actual human being with feelings. They got upset when she came back with scars on her. Marcy’s parents are very strict, expecting her to carry high grades and not being kind when it comes to her neurodivergency.

They didn’t get her any treatment for it, believing all she has to do is power through. Marcy still has good grades in most of her classes, but it’s difficult to maintain them at such a high level without some kind of assistance.

Oh! Anne’s parents treat the Sasha and Marcy like family (they know Anne likes them), and they explicitly say that they have a home in their house. Never did they expect to see them one night with Anne, drenched in the midnight rain. Tears streaming down their cheeks but wearing joyful smiles.

(Gonna end this now so it doesn’t become too long)

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #AAF AU #sars writes #sashannarcy

[yell0wsalt]

8, 12, 26 and any one you want to answer for the fic writers ask!

These were fun questions, thank you!

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)

Time Machine by Muni Long. It gives me an idea of someone who’s been burnt by a past relationship. Maybe through supernatural elements, the main character is able to turn back time to redo certain parts of life. Still struggle to find their happy ending with their former partner but keep trying several times because they think they love them. Eventually through multiple failures, they’re worn down and give up. When they do though, they’ll encounter their true endgame. 

Not necessarily the theme of the song explicitly, but would be a fun take on how past experiences, even the negative can lead you to someone or something better.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? 

This one is a bit tricky, but I'd say soulmate AUs. It’s tricky because I don’t like the trope as a blanket statement. “We’re soulmates, we have to love each other!” “We’re going through shit, but we have to stay together because we’re soulmates.” 

No. If I were to read a soulmate fic, it’s the ones where the couple actively chooses each other every day because they’re worth it. No one else compares and they’re not explicitly pulling the “soulmate”card. @orangepanic wrote a great fic of this.

There are fun twists you can put on a trope or AU where you're still getting the idea across, but is out of the ordinary in a way that makes your brain sparkle. The work the characters go through feels more worthwhile when their ending is not so clear-cut/predetermined.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

As someone who typically writes their fics by drafting the dialogue first, then filling it out with subtle actions and scenery, I’d take “only dialogue” for 1000, please.

For the freebie, I went with: 47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

For the fic, I chose I Wanna Swim in Your Skies.

If it was a pair of shoes, I would pick white slip on Vans. In particular ones that are have been worn down like around the soles and they aren't the totally fresh bleach white color.

In that fic, Iroh and Asami are in an established domestic relationship with kids and have a quickie while two of their kids are sleeping.

The quickie makes me think about slip on shoes for their ease to slide on. The color would be a worn down white given their years together having gone through years of dating, marriage, and kids. And in the A/N of the fic, I mentioned how the song "True Romance" by Oh Wonder feels so them (I titled the fic based on lyrics in the song). It's a song that romanticizes the day to day with your partner which I think they're doing in that fic, keeping the spark alive. Vans are casual, versatile, and classic. I think about that energy with domestic fluff.

fic writer asks

[number1villainstan]

Overhaul for the character ask!

How I feel about this character:

Blorbo of all time. He is sooooo me. On a more serious note, there was so much possible characterization that BnHA dropped into him--so much juicy potential--and it was all wasted. Pair that up with him being an antagonist who did horrible things and it was like a perfect storm to get me way too invested in him lmao. Also, I recently had a pretty unwelcome revelation about myself about how I usually find the major antagonists/villains of a show that unwittingly self-sabotage through social incompetence/bluntness/lack of empathy relatable which does not bode well for my social life hahaha but that's oversharing so I'm just gonna--

All the people I ship "romantically" with this character:

Disclaimer: I actually usually headcanon him as aro, so often the "romantic" shipping I have for him isn't actually romantic but sexual and/or queerplatonic, because I'm taking this as a question for 'who do I ship him with in a way that isn't just conventional friendship or in a familial/family-esque relationship'.

Kurono Hari: My main partner for the guy, and any OT3s I form for Kai are pretty much always going to have Hari as the second member, with the third varying. I have seen and do enjoy outright romantic Chronohaul, but when I write it I'll usually make an effort to make it either explicitly queerplatonic or Definitely A Relationship but not really a romantic relationship, ykno? Usually I like to think that they've been together for a while even before the show starts, in a solid years-long committed relationship that probably started (if not in its current form) when they were teenagers. I really like the idea of two similar people having found each other and finding strength and understanding in each other even as they're so different from everyone else around them, even if they end up reinforcing each other's destructive tendencies. Also, it's T4T. That part's very important.

Dabi: Funny story, I ended up watching BnHA because some of my online friends were huge DabiHaul shippers, so that was the ship I was primed for. And then I got attached to Chisaki and every other named character in the Hassaikai and ended up primarily shipping Chronohaul, and Dabi ended up usually being their third and shipped with both. I imagine that this ship (Chronodabihaul) is purely a sexual one, a fuckbuddy type thing for stress relief. It may or may not develop some stronger commitments/feelings later on, if and when the League and the Hassaikai stop virulently hating each other (and if/when Dabi stops being so obsessed with revenge), but that's not really a given.

Aizawa Shouta: This is definitely not a ship that's on the forefront of my mind, but it still has a soft spot in my void of a heart. Just like Dabi, I can very much see him in an OT3 with Chronohaul, although I feel like Aizawa would be in a much more long-term relationship with them. I can also see he and just Kai having an emotional short-term fling, but that would either cool down into just-friends or Hari would end up with them after a while, making it the OT3. Also, I have an angsty soulmate AU oneshot WIP that focuses on Overzawa, so.

Nemoto Shin: I don't actually really ship this character with Chisaki (I hc Chisaki as romance repulsed aroallo and Nemoto as sex-repulsed alloace), but I have an priest/demon AU in my WIPs that's got some heavy Nemotohaul implications, so I think I'd be remiss not to mention him here.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

I have several, actually:

Lady Nagant, aka Tsutsumi Kaina, of course. I know a lot of people on Tumblr like to ship Sniperhaul, but it just doesn't interest me. Seems kind of shallow, honestly (apologies to any Sniperhaul shippers reading this). I see them better as bickering sibling types after Chisaki heals at least a little bit from solitary confinement. And also as mlm/wlw solidarity.

I really like the idea of Chisaki taking Yaoyorozu Momo under his wing, teaching her chemical formulas for poisons and tips and tricks for combating performance anxiety. (I also really like the idea that they're genetically related...and don't find out until well after they've established their mentor/mentee relationship lmao.)

Nemoto Shin again, since I usually like him and Chisaki as close friends. Chisaki goes to him for questions like "what the fuck am I feeling and how do I make it stop" or "how the hell do emotions work".

Also, weirdly enough, when I'm imagining the sort of AU where he gets thrown in some labyrinth and has to figure out how to survive/get out with a bunch of other characters it's unlikely he'd interact with otherwise, I think Midnight might actually like him. She'd think he's cute. He wouldn't like Midnight back though.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Do you mean unpopular for the wider fandom, or just among people that like this specific character? Because if it's the first, then all of my opinions for this character are unpopular, but if it's the second, then I'm not sure I have unpopular opinions/headcanons on him so much as opinions/headcanons that aren't widely held and/or thought about. I'm gonna list some that might be considered 'unpopular' among Chisaki/Hassaikai fans, although I'm not actually sure they are:

Pops wasn't a good parent. I imagine him something like the (fanon) Fenton parents from Danny Phantom; affectionate and kind, but only when he a) remembers to pay attention and b) Kai isn't in trouble. Unfortunately, these times are few and far between. Kai ends up as the 'weird kid' a lot during his childhood/teenage years and becomes the automatic scapegoat, and Pops doesn't even question any accusations brought against his kid, which doesn't help the fact that Kai has been conditioned not to speak up for his own innocence by teachers and other authority figures punishing him for 'talking back.' So it ends up with most of Kai's memories being of Pops punishing him for things he never did, being part of The System that hurt him so bad, and with Pops having this concept of Kai as a Bad Kid(TM) that's mostly unearned, and it escalates to the point where Chisaki feels safer with Pops in a coma than with Pops talking and walking around even as he craves Pops' affection.

Objectively speaking, at least from a utilitarian/obligation perspective, Chisaki is morally better than Enji. I'm so sorry for this proxissima, but Kai only hurt one kid that wasn't his actual kid--it was a child that someone else gave to him with vague instructions to 'figure out her Quirk' and he didn't feel like he could refuse, whereas Enji had four children for the purpose of surpassing All Might and traumatized them all with his lack of care for their wellbeing, albeit in different ways. Obviously, Kai had an obligation to not be shitty to a kid, but Enji had extra obligations because those were his actual kids that he had on purpose. Also, Kai grew up in the probably highly toxic and violent yakuza, whereas Enji went into law enforcement and therefore should have more regard for the fact that, at least, child abuse is fucking illegal.

Chisaki legitimately cares about the Expendables/Bullets/Precepts of Death, and considers himself an Expendable. I'm not sure entirely how to explain this one, but I greatly prefer the idea that Chisaki took in many of the Expendables (minus Rappa, who followed him home) because he understood the kind of shit they were going through over what was implied in canon (that he manipulated them into being super loyal to him so that he could throw them away).

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

MORE CHARACTERIZATION! ANY CHARACTERIZATION! Especially characterization that showed actual positive traits! Yes, the remorse he showed for putting Pops in a coma after the prison break was arguably a step in the right direction, but it was also tied up in some really weird ableist/sanist connotations about how "this was his punishment" or something, and Deku (obligatory fucking Deku) still demanded that he feel more remorse about what he did to Eri even though he wasn't mentally all there, and also demanding that people feel certain emotions in general is entitled and shitty. Even though the narration of BnHA clearly makes out Deku to be the ultimate moral authority in the story.

Like--it's just so fucking obvious that Chisaki was made just to be a generic evil villain for Deku to beat up without the audience questioning why he's so blatantly betraying his professed ideal of "save everyone" and for Shigaraki to play off against to make him look better. And it wasn't even done well. This man is clearly mentally ill from like the first time we see him, and solitary confinement only exacerbated it. One thing I would have loved to see in canon, instead of All Of That, was if Deku guessed that Eri was being abused and ended up blatantly wrong, taking away a child from a loving home after she's already had trauma from accidentally Rewinding her father out of existence and her mother treating her as a monster and abandoning her. Hell, you could still have the Quirk-erasing bullets in play--just have Chisaki take and start cloning a red bone marrow sample from Eri so that he has enough blood without harming her more than a single surgery.

Yea, that was definitely way longer than you probably wanted, and it took longer than I wanted, but I have a Lot of thoughts on this guy. I'll answer the other two requests at a later date, because I need to study for and take at least one final today.

Send me a character and I'll break them down

#chisaki kai #kai chisaki #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha #mha #bnha meta #overhaul meta #mha chisaki #bnha chisaki #bnha chisaki kai #tagging for exposure #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #chronohaul #dabihaul #chronodabihaul #overzawa #overchronozawa #???? man idek #long post #shie hassaikai #nemotohaul #nemoto shin #kurono hari #aizawa shouta #bnha eraserhead #bnha dabi #todoroki touya #bnha pops

[boleynns]

Do u have fic recommendations?

I'm gonna assume this is for Daemon/Rhaenyra since that has been all I've talked about for months haha. And definitely have plenty of recs! In general I love reading really long fic (like, in really popular pairings I will set my parameters to see 50k+ or 100k+ fics only...), so due to the relative newness of this ship's popularity, most of my recs are incomplete. I also have way more that I am subscribed to that absolutely could be faves eventually, but that are just a little too early in the story to guarantee.

Canon/Canon!AU

To Ashes (Series) by Emerald_Aphelion (~30k, series incomplete but has 3 complete works so far) -- AU from Daemon's return from the Stepstones, basically where Daemon and Rhaenyra are just a little more thoughtful and forward-thinking within their relationship and with the political situation they're in. Established Relationship Vibes but also slow burn romance at the same time, they make each other smarter and better by working together, Rhaenyra bonds with baby!Aegon AND Rhea, Daemon picks Rhaenyra up and puts her on a table and calls her his queen at one point (hot), and this is the ideal Dance fix-it.

my eyes are aching to see you--126AC by SeveDeChampagne (~2.5k, complete) -- set between Episode 7 and 8, a very spicy First Time Post-Birth one-shot that contains multiple sentences that are some of the most intensely romantic things I've ever read. Considering my love of long fics, it takes a special kind of short fic for me to be so moved and attached.

How to Win Thrones and Ensnare Dragons by Writer_in_the__Dark (~15k, incomplete) -- Time Travel AU (my kink) where Rhaenyra is reborn into her baby-self. Only a few chapters in but I am HOOKED by the writing style and characterization of The Early Years dynamic, and am so looking forward to seeing how this evolves as time moves forward -- but based on the writing so far, I know it will be wonderful.

put down that gravestone by darkgods (~35k, incomplete) -- Post-Episode 4 AU, where Daemon went back to the Vale and Rhea didn't die, and then Rhaenyra gave birth to very Daemon-looking twins (wonder how that happened!), and then 10 years later Rhea has dead and Viserys invites Daemon back to be Hand. This story is so well-written and rich with character detail, I honestly just want to re-read it over and over! It has so beautifully dove into Rhaenyra's psyche, Daemon's personality (from his own perspective and from others), built a very sad and realistic portrait of Jace and Luke's lives as outcasts in court, set up some deliciously hurtful and complicated strings to unravel between Daemon and Rhaenyra due to this inciting situation, and has already indulged my pathological need for some Outside POV content by adding in Luke's (very well-written) perspective on a dinner scene. The fact that the chapter count is currently at 4/36 and we already have 35k words has me so hyped, you guys don't understand how badly I need piles and piles of giant fics.

Significance by AmazingAngie (~21k, incomplete) -- AmazingAngie is amazing because of how quickly she writes such amazing material! This is a Soulmate!AU, and this one in particular is just so insanely lovely so far! I'm a sucker for a "meant to be" setup so I will always love those from the get go, but I especially love the nuance in this story, and the ways that knowing that they are the endgame changes the trajectory of all of these characters lives.

you came/you called by scarlettscribbles (~10k, incomplete) -- basically an Episode 10 AU, kind of, but beyond that I just suggest reading it and going with the flow, because once I was like 80% into this first chapter I finally realized what was happening and it was so exciting. Needless to say I am pumped for the rest of the story.

Modern!AU

No joke I have literally NEVER liked Modern!AU's before, except for with 'Merlin' (because even if it wasn't explicitly stated, I could pretend that it was Reincarnation). It has just never appealed to me, until now with Daemon and Rhaenyra -- because they are just that powerful. Also none of my Modern!AU faves are any of that "Oh, actually, Daemon is adopted, or they're third cousins twice removed, or Daemon is only a ~symbolic uncle", like, we all know what we're doing here 😂

Lets Ignite Under the Ember Skies by grandlovescheme (26k, complete) -- So freaking good! The uncertainty, the jealousy, the tension, the ~vibes, the ~sexy ~vibes, it is a tightly-written and very well-characterized modern version of these characters and I love it.

Petrichor by sweetestsorrows (katschako) (~23k, incomplete) -- one of the chapters made me cry for real. Very intense "we are way too close to be appropriate, and it is causing angst, but i wanna be closer..." vibes, and I am so here for it. It really is wonderfully translating their bond to a modern lens, and all the problems and tensions that would come along with that dynamic. It made me go "omg that is so intensely romantic", it made me literally cry, it made me go "ooh ~spicy", its got it all.

the beauty queen in tears by writingwhatidream (~30k, incomplete) -- AHHH I am obsessed with this story (almost as obsessed as Crispin is with Rhaenyra in it...). To try and sum it up, it is a Modern!AU A/B/O Royal Family fic...but that all sounds so much more reductive than it actually reads. For me, it is: delicious Daemon/Rhaenyra "Us Against the World" vibes, where even if they're not physically together they are 100% together, with a healthy (or rather unhealthy, in-context) dose of creepy Outsider POV, and the promise of Alpha/Omega-induced drama, love, possessiveness, and danger to come. It is juicy and beautifully written, and is giving me so many things I want all in one place.

#thank the gods for writers writing the best stuff for free #hotd #daemon x rhaenyra #there is so much good fic happening i am truly personally blessed to read it

[bropunzeling]

Director's commentary, anything from mattdrai soulmate AU (or future snippets!)

hello anon! gosh it's been a while since ive looked at this one; here's the early section where they are in germany and going for a little walk:

Leon harries Matthew until they’re both dressed and ready to go, grabbing a spare key from the table in the hall. The weather outside, once they get there, isn’t too bad; it’s a little brisk, but nothing that either of them can’t handle compared to an Alberta spring. Matthew still looks shivery, though, hands tucked into his sweatshirt pocket and head bowed. [poor bondsick matthew! in all seriousness figuring out how to portray bondsickness was honestly really fun - just being a pathetic lil mess until someone touches you. idk if i ever said so explicitly in the fic/fully committed, but in my head/memory as of now, i think it's one of those things that is not so much caused by physical distance but by emotional distance. they haven't figured out/reconciled their feelings = you get sick. leon leaving was just a triggering event. but the beauty of never saying so explicitly is i can't get it wrong either way lmao.]

“Hey,” Leon says, bumping Matthew with his elbow until Matthew looks up. “You okay?” he asks, feeling like a broken record, but there’s not—what else is he supposed to do? [leon just actively flailing throughout the whole of the 2022 sections was also fun. he's a demonstrative guy but it's hard to be demonstrative when you don't have a clear sense of what either of you want. also, he is not yet willing to internally acknowledge how important matthew is to him, so he's just gonna... kinda suck at it.]

“Yeah,” Matthew says flatly. There’s big purple circles under his eyes. It makes Leon think again about how badly Matthew’s taking it, much worse than how Leon’s doing. Sure, he supposes he didn’t feel great for the twenty hours they were separated by an ocean, but he also didn’t look like he’d been run over by a zamboni. [bc you are not in emotional turmoil my guy]

Leon knows, at this point, that he should know better, but he’s still not sure how exactly all of this works. Bond-sickness is a thing from romance novels and weepy made-for-TV movies, not for a couple of hockey players who are regularly a continent apart. [again because it's an emotional thing, and leon isnt ready to clue into the emotional aspects of their relationship - purposefully oblivious] Leon leaving shouldn’t have done anything, he’s pretty sure. What difference would the Atlantic make, compared to North America? [bc you ~left~ him/aren't easily accessible anymore!]

Besides, in every depiction of bond-sickness he’s seen—which was mostly the one movie Kim watched on repeat when she was thirteen, some weepfest based on a Nicholas Sparks novel that Leon got so sick of he threatened to snap the DVD in half [my favorite thing about writing aus is figuring out alternate media for aus. i love a shitty reality tv concept. i love a bad romance novel. i love an ed sheeran ballad. it's the most fun part and also is such an easy way to add color and a sense of heft to your world building.]—it always happens to both sides of the bond. He’s pretty sure that if Matthew’s sick, he should be too, or else neither of them should be. [more hinting at one-sidedness] Which—that’s something he’s not sure he wants to interrogate too closely.

“Here,” Leon says finally, pulling at Matthew’s arm until he finally manages to get at Matthew’s hand. “Let me just—”

The second his fingers wrap around Matthew’s, Leon has a sensation of realignment, like one of his joints has eased back into place. Matthew starts to look more alive, color returning to his face as he sighs with relief. It’s kind of fucked up, how much touching makes things better, but it’s kind of cool, too, that this is all it takes. [one of my fave lines! (a) i think that would be the appeal of a thing like a bond to me, that you can make each other feel better and (b) i like it as an unconscious acknowledgement on leon's part that he wants matthew to feel better. he gives a shit! it isn't really platonic anymore even if he can't see that or admit it]

“This okay?” Leon asks, darting a glance at Matthew before looking down the street.

“Yeah,” Matthew says, fingers squeezing once. “I mean—if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever will help,” Leon says, more sincerely than he means to.

Leon started their walk without any destination in mind, but it isn’t far from his parents’ new house to the west bank of the Rhine. Once they get to the river, they stop, looking out at the Rodenkirchen bridge, huge and coppery green; the trees dotting the riverbank on the opposite side; the water reflecting the bridge as it flows north. There are ducklings following their parents down through the current, people walking past with dogs and strollers or only themselves. It’s peaceful to be around other people, to hear pieces of their conversation and the rush of the river and Matthew’s steps in time with his own. [i never made it to cologne but it looks really gorgeous in pictures! love a big bridge by the river. fixes me every time]

He wonders what it’s like for Matthew, somewhere unfamiliar, where not even the background noise is the same. [there's a thing about this that like, is tricky to articulate but i'll do my best lol - when they were both in alberta, they were both far from/couldn't always go home, which is a theme i find compelling (see marriage bets) but leon is obviously more separated. and during the 2022 sections of the fic, it was fun to explore matthew as the one far from home, in an unfamiliar environment, with leon as the one fixed point. idk! it's a fun theme.]

“Want to go farther?” he offers, tugging their hands towards the river. “Not too bad right now.”

Matthew nods, fingers tightening around Leon’s. “Sure,” he says. “If you want to.”

“Yeah,” Leon says. Now that he’s looking at Matthew, it’s like he’s gotten stuck, gaze snagged on Matthew’s eyes, as clear and blue as the spring sky. [ur in love with him. hope that helps.] He has to blink hard before he can look away, back to the tree-lined path and the river ahead. “Yeah, I want to.”

They spend another half an hour walking down the river and back, until it’s too cold to continue. [i just love a romantic walk!] Then they turn down into the neighborhood, wandering streets that should be more familiar to Leon than they are. [another bit of that far from home theme; what even is home in the first place if you've spent your adult life somewhere else?] Eventually they find a café and Leon gets them coffee, more to warm their hands more than anything else. Matthew stumbles through a “Danke schön” when he takes his.

“Did you practice or something?” Leon asks, raising his eyebrows.

The tips of Matthew’s ears flush, [he has been practicing for at minimum six months and at least a year. maybe started during those summer calls. he has an irrational hatred for the duolingo owl] and he takes a long sip of coffee. Leon decides not to push. It’s just—unexpected, is all.

Eventually they find their way back to the right street. Matthew’s shivering again. Leon should’ve given him one of his heavier jackets; they’re close enough to the same size. [them being the same build is important and sexy to me] He’ll remember next time.

“You good?” he asks again.

Matthew nods, takes another sip of coffee. “This is strong,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“I’ve been telling you, your coffee is shit,” Leon says easily, accepting the misdirection. [european coffee just is better. alas.]

“Just because you’re a snob,” Matthew retorts, and they’re back to not quite normal, but closer. When Matthew nearly shoves him off the sidewalk mid-argument, it’s practically a relief. [they will always be a little bit butting heads but in a fun flirty way :)]

#ask meme #soulbond au

[lightyaoigami]

Tell us about your inspiration for kompromat! Also -- Do you have any changes to the playlist linked, or mood board for it? 🥰 (From this reblog)

jessy you're the best, i love this question so much! <3

for anyone wondering what kompromat is, it's my beloved fic that i worked really hard on, here's the AO3 link & here's my accompanying playlist.

so essentially the idea came to me in a divine vision while i was spacing out walking my dog lmao. i was listening to i lied by lord huron & allison ponthier which isn't a one-to-one lyrically for this story, but the rhythm and melody injected "lawlight tragically dancing in a dark room" into my brain and i started kind of going into a trance from there. i haven't changed anything about the playlist but i would love to recover my mood board (i accidentally deleted it, tragically)

the line "i swore that i'd become a better man for you and i tried" just got me thinking, so i tried to kind of build a scene around the image of them dancing to this tune. like, where would they be dancing? a dark bar because i always want them in real life type situations. why is it so sad? because lawlight is inherently tragic but also, they are either about to part, or be reunited. while kompromat isn't explicitly a soulmate au i do think that the idea of a soul mate is pretty much a motif of DN. i like the idea of the red string of fate and i think it works here and in canon. also, with regard to memory loss and regretting losing your memories, i love eternal sunshine so much it's probably my favorite movie ever, and i hadn't made the connection until i started writing.

also i'm sure everyone who reads my fics has picked up on this but i'm really invested in everything being really real, so i spent a few hours looking at beautiful london hotels and nice bars. as a fellow new yorker i want to tell you specifically that the bar that is in my mind visually is the nines in noho even though the fic is set at the fumoir at the claridges hotel in london.

i was really, really intent on having kompromat be posted *on* new year's eve. i realize now that i probably hindered my engagement by doing that because most people probably don't sit on AO3 on nye (no judgment here obvi, just seems true to me). but there is always a melancholic feeling on nye to me no matter how much fun you're having. i don't know how to describe this specific melancholy other than the feeling of listening to the song "auld lang syne" and like, the idea of leaving your old life/year behind, for better or for worse, you know?

i just love the idea that in any timeline, in a million lifetimes, the boy best friends manage to find each other because there's nobody as awful as them, and nobody can love them the way they love each other ;_; in funnier terms, this tweet:

i would be remiss not to tag the kompromat cheerleader hive @bi-snapdragon @quicktimeeventfull @thesimstwo @god-of-this-new-blog love you guys sm thanks for always gassing me up about this work <3

#fic: kompromat #jessynote #*when harry met sally voice* IT'S ABOUT OLD FRIENDS!!!!! #my writing

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Tick Tock goes the clock

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise Pairing: Malcolm Reed x Reader Words: 5.2K Warnings: Mentions of death, maybe a bit violence? Summary: Reader and Malcolm are trapped together in a cell until Archer manages to bail them out. Prompt: Soulmate AU!, where you have a count down on your arm, that shows how long it will take you to finally meet your soulmate. A/N: This didn't excactly went into the direction I wanted it too, but I kind of like it.

Y/N breathed in and out deeply, legs crossed cross-legged, hands resting on one knee each, urgently trying to rid the biting cold from her limbs as she regretted for the umpteenth time taking Ensign Jones with her.

As the only anthropologist, she had been sent to Licaurus, an M-class planet inhabited by a post-warp culture that, despite scientific advances, clung firmly to its traditions. One of them, for example, was that to greet visitors who were not part of one's own family, a sharp blade was held to the throat, tip out. Not, however, the sides of the neck, as the Licaurs thus displayed romantic or sexual interest, depending on which side the blade was on.

This was for the purpose of demonstrating the superior power one could theoretically have, but at the same time showing their peaceful will, as they did not actually cut the throat. A tradition that Y/N had explicitly explained several times to the rest of the landing party, consisting of Ensign Jones, a security officer, and Ensign Rouge, a science officer. Ensign Rouge had adhered to this tradition, however Ensign Jones seemed not to have even begun to listen to Y/N, because as soon as Colbix, the Lincaure who was supposed to greet them, put his edge to her throat, Ensign Jones pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Colbix. From then on, everything was out of hand.

The guards who had accompanied Colbix, another purely symbolic sign of power not exercised under normal circumstances, had in turn pointed their weapons at Jones. Y/N had tried to reason with both sides and had repeatedly asked Jones to lower his weapon. However, Jones did not seem to trust her knowledge, as he did not lower his weapon but fired a shot.

From then on, at the latest, she knew that this mission, which was supposed to be simple, would be a disaster. Before Jones had even taken his finger off the trigger, if there was such a thing with these weapons, she wasn't sure, he was hit three times in the chest and slumped to the ground. Y/N had had to suppress a scream, which Ensign Rouge had not managed so well. She had ordered her not to make a sound and certainly not to run away.

Lincauren would see this running away as complicity and would also open the hunt for her. They believed that someone who was innocent would not feel the need to flee, a tradition they had also impressed on Rouge and Jones. Rouge, however, seemed to have forgotten everything in her panic, because, despite Y/N's insistent talking, she turned and fled in the opposite direction.

Instantly Colbix sent several guards after her. Y/N had had to suppress a heavy swallow. She had seen the excited glint in their eyes. Their hunting instincts had been aroused. And all she could do now was pray for Lieutenant Rouge.

After that, everything had happened quite quickly. Two guards had grabbed her by the arms and dragged her behind them. She had not fought back, otherwise they would also declare her "guilty" and possibly do worse than lock her in the cold cell she was currently in.

Y/N, however, was not afraid for herself. She was innocent and considering that the Lincaurs had not yet executed her, they probably believed it. She was more worried about the crew of the Enterprise, especially Ensign Rouge.

She could only hope that she had been able to contact the Enterprise and was now safely back on the ship. Otherwise, there would probably be a problem soon.

They had been ordered to report in every two hours. It had certainly been seven if not eight hours since the last time. And the way she saw Archer, he would do anything to get his crew back. At least what was left of it.

She could only hope that Commander T'Pol had looked at her notes on the Licaurs beforehand. Otherwise, it could quickly end with her being the only one to survive on this planet.

With a low moan, she stretched out her legs. A soft crack came from her knees and she screwed up her face. She was really getting old.

All at once she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up. No guard had entered this room since they had thrown her in here. Perhaps she was lucky and the Licaurs had concluded that she was not part of this "conspiracy", rather a misunderstanding in her opinion, and would let her go. Or, perhaps they did find her guilty and would now execute her. Y/N hoped very much for the former.

Slowly she straightened up. Her legs and back ached and she was pretty sure she had broken a rib, thanks to the end of the gun from one of the guards that he had rammed into her chest. Her legs were shaking, but she didn't know if it was from the cold or because she could barely feel her legs.

The door swung open and two guards entered.

For a moment she really believed they were going to get her out of here. But only until a third guard pushed another person into her cell and all three retreated again. With a loud bang, the iron door was pulled shut behind them and Y/N was alone in the cell, along with the groaning man on the floor. A heavy sigh escaped her as she slid down the wall.

"Well, you sound pleased to see me," the man scoffed and sat up with a groan. Her gaze flew quickly over him. He was slightly shorter than most of the men on board, had short dark hair and appeared to have a small scar on his upper lip. His eyes continued to be closed as he leaned against the wall opposite her. "Well, I was honestly hoping to get out of here," she admitted, adding "Lieutenant" after a quick glance at his right breast.

"We're working on it. At least the captain is." All at once she understood why he was sitting in the cell with her. "So I guess Captain Archer has started negotiations with the Licaurs? For a moment I thought you were as much a prisoner as I am, sir." He snorted. "Well, I wouldn't call it a holiday." She smirked. "Perhaps not. However, it's tradition among the Licaurs that when negotiations take place, one hostage from each side is taken from the other."

"Hostage?!"

"They call it joristica. Or joristico. Or even joristice. It depends on the gender. Female, Male or Other." The man raised his eyebrow. "It's tradition. Nothing is done to the hostages. Provided, of course, that Captain Archer doesn't cause any problems." He was still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. "You sure know a lot about this culture." She looked at him for a few moments.

"I'm Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N, the anthropologist who accompanied this landing party. I should make sure nothing goes wrong." The man snorted. "Well that worked." Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Is it my fault that both Ensign Jones and Ensign Rouge threw my advice to the wind?" She looked down at the floor.

"I gave both of them a short briefing beforehand and pointed out to them the most important things and traditions of the Licaurs. I am well aware that it is not possible to learn everything in such a short time. Nevertheless, I must have told them five or six times to stay calm, not to see the greeting as a threat and not to run away under any circumstances, should an emergency occur. Both Ensign Jones and Ensign Rouge did not take my admonitions seriously or even follow them. Even when I told them so myself in the situation at hand."

Now it was up to her to close her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "And now both of them are dead. Because I failed as a superior officer."

She heard the rustling of clothes. Apparently the man had just sat up. "Ensign Rouge is not dead, Lieutenant. She is alive. She was able to contact Enterprise. Why do you think we're here in the first place?" She stifled a sarcastic comment as relief spread through her chest.

"She's alive?" Y/N opened her eyes and looked into the face of the man, who had apparently decided to open his as well. He was smiling. In the darkness she couldn't quite make out the colour of his eyes, however they seemed bright. She felt a slight itch on her left forearm, but suppressed the urge to scratch.

"Yes. She is in the infirmary with some scrapes and scratches and seems slightly traumatised, but Doctor Phlox is of the opinion that she will be fine." Absently, she noticed that the lieutenant seemed to be struggling with itching as well. Lost in thought, he rubbed his left forearm through the sleeve of his uniform. Maybe there was some substance here that didn't do well with her uniform?

"But it's too late for Ensign Jones," she added with a lowered voice and gaze. "And that's my fault. I should have prepared him harder."

"No," his voice was gentle. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I am his direct supervisor. He falls under my purview, not yours." At these words she listened up. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Malcolm Reed."

She had to suppress a swallow. Of course, it was her luck to be trapped in a cell with a senior officer. She shook her head slightly to clear her mind. She was beginning to feel that this constant coldness was freezing her mind. "I don't think it was your fault, sir." Reed looked up from his lap and a shiver came over her

. The cold really had to be getting to her. "He may have been under your charge, however, it had been my job to properly brief him." He shook his head, but before he could say anything she continued. "But still you feel guilty, don't you sir? Is that why you volunteered to be the joristico?" Reed frowned. "How do you know?" She pressed her lips together. Why did she have to have such a big mouth?

"Well, ninety percent of the time when Phlox cancels our lunch it's because you're lying in sickbay, having volunteered for some mission, sir. I was beginning to think you were suffering from chronic self-sacrifice." As soon as she uttered the words, she bit her lip. Reed might also be a lieutenant in rank, but he was still a senior officer and therefore a little higher in rank than she was. He raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant-"

"I know, sir. I crossed a line and I should have kept my mouth shut. Pardon me." A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "At ease, lieutenant. It's all right." She smiled briefly. "Thank you." She hesitated and Reed noticed it right away. "I guess you and I are going to be spending quite a bit of time here, so don't be shy. What did you want to ask?" Y/N briefly moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Would you mind explaining to me what has happened since we lost contact with Enterprise? As you said, we're going to spend some more time here. And I don't know about you, sir, however, I would hate to spend that time in silence." He nodded. "I guess you're right."

Immediately he began his report. At first she listened to him attentively, but as time went by her eyes began to grow dull and tiredness overcame her. The only reason she had not long since sunk into the realm of dreams was the constant itching on her forearm. "Am I boring you?"

She blamed fatigue and constant coldness for her subsequent reply. "Sorry sir, it's just.... Has anyone ever told you that your voice is very soothing and pleasant?" Silence followed, then a soft chuckle. "Soothing and pleasant?"

"Mhhmmm. Especially the accent is nice. Different from constant Yanks where you can't understand a thing." A soft laugh rang out and it was only moments later that she realised what exactly she had been saying. Right off the bat she sat up and felt the heat rise to her face.

"I...no I... I meant... Bloody hell... See...," she tried to talk her way out of it as Reed looked at her with amusement on his face. "My accent?" She slapped her hands over her face in exasperation. "Forget it, please. It's the dehydration. And the cold. I'm afraid I can't think straight." All at once all amusement was gone from his face and replaced by concern. "How long have you been here?"

She shrugged languidly. "I don't know, sir, seven hours, maybe eight." Reed sat up straighter and slid over to her. "And how long since you had a drink?" He took her wrist in his to take her pulse. His warm skin on her cold one gave her goosebumps and instantly warmth spread through her as well.

"Sir, I don't know if you are aware, but as long as the Licaurs hold prisoners, especially joristices, they will not be provided with food, water or blankets. This is to help negotiations move along more quickly." There was horror reflected on Reed's face. "Are you telling me that the last time you drank was eight hours ago?" "Maybe longer." A shiver came over her and the itch got worse with every passing second. "The cold is worse, though."

Reed regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before sighing. "I almost froze to death once and at least I had blankets then. I'm not really up for a repeat. So begging your pardon." And with that, he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

His aftershave rose to her nose and she grew even warmer. Actually, that should have been pleasant after hours of cold, but the itch intensified unbearably, almost agonisingly, until she gave in, pushed up her sleeve and let her fingernails run over her skin.

A satisfied sigh escaped her.

"I certainly hope your mate won't hold it against me. After all, I'm only trying to stop you from freezing to death." She frowned, broke free of the embrace and turned. His face was closer than she'd thought, which made her slide back a little. "What are you talking about, sir?" Now it was up to Reed to frown and he nodded over to her forearm. "Your soul mate. I hope he understands."

Confused, she looked down. Her breath caught in her throat and she was pretty sure her eyes were round as plates. On her forearm, where a countdown had usually been displayed in gruesomely conspicuous white lettering, there was now nothing but an infinity sign in a more inconspicuous black. "What the hell?" Dumbfounded, she stared at her arm. "When..how..what.." Reed looked at her in surprise. "You didn't know?"

"No! How could I?!" She pinched herself once to make sure she wasn't already hallucinating from the cold. "Before the mission, there was still the countdown. Heck, even before I was thrown in that cell."

She couldn't understand it. It usually showed, after all. In her head she went through the signs again. Shivers, warmth to the touch, an irrepressible itch until the partner touched the mark- She faltered. Could it be- Her gaze met Reed's before moving to his forearm. He was still scratching through his uniform. She had to risk it. "May I see your forearm, please?"

Reed's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" She felt the heat rush to her face, however she did her best to look professional. "As you know, normal signs of finding your mate are shivering, itching and warmth to the touch. I've been showing these symptoms since you came in. Of course, it could be one of the guards, but since you've been scratching your arm yourself since you got here, I have to consider the possibility. So may I?"

Reed looked down in surprise, as if only now noticing the scratching, and nodded absently. Carefully, she took his jacket sleeve, took a deep breath and pushed it up. What came to light was the same black infinity mark that was very apparent on his pale skin.

" Bloody hell." Dumbfounded, Reed stared at his arm. She looked up in surprise. From what she'd heard, Reed was actually always professional and kept his feelings to himself most of the time. Seeing him like this...she had to admit, it was intriguing. "But it was different before!" She let herself sink back and stared at the floor. "I guess that makes it pretty obvious, doesn't it?"

She could feel his gaze on her and looked up. The light coming through the window cast no shadows on his face this time, so she could see it clearly. "Guess so. So, what do we do now?" She smirked shyly. "Maybe you could touch my mark? It still itches horribly." Lost in thought, he placed his hand on her forearm while still staring intangibly at his. Relieved, she sighed as the unbearable itch disappeared. "Thank you."

Reed didn't respond, but leaned back a little to give her more space. After some silence, Reed raised his voice. "I want to be honest with you, Lieutenant. I never really believed in all that soul mate stuff." Y/N shook her head almost in relief. She wasn't alone in that opinion.

"Neither did I really, sir. It struck me as odd that the universe should determine who is the best match for me and who I should spend my life with." He nodded in agreement. His gaze wandered down and only now did they both notice that he still had his hand on her forearm.

He turned slightly red in the face and withdrew his hand instantly. Shyly he looked into her eyes and for a moment she was no longer sure if the man in front of her was really the same man who was usually so heroically willing to sacrifice himself. "And what do you suggest we do?"

She hesitated. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" He smiled shyly. "You don't have to ask my permission. It would be a bit strange in this situation, wouldn't it? But if that's the way you want it, permission granted, Lieutenant" She smiled. "Thank you." Nervousness spread through her. "While I never, really believed in this, however, I would hate to pretend it didn't happen. I expect nothing from you and if you wish to keep our relationship purely professional, I will accept your wish." Reed's face had turned even redder. "I don't mean to offend you, however, I don't think I'm cut out or ready for a romantic relationship right now."

Now it was up to her to feel heat on her face. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, sure, romantic relationships are usually where soulmates end up. After all, even Starfleet has allowed relationships to happen between soulmates, even if they have different ranks. However, I think you know, as I do, that sometimes soulmates are just good friends and-"

She groaned. "What I'm saying is, I'm not ready for a romantic relationship right now either. I just got out of my last one and it wasn't that nice. Actually, I wanted to ask what exactly you want out of all this. What is your "maximum goal"? A strict working relationship? Friendship? Maybe a romantic relationship later on?"

She added the last more quietly, however Reed must have heard it because he blushed again. "I just want there to be no misunderstanding. As I said before, many expect the true love after they meet their soulmate. But if that is not your wish, I will leave it at friendship or work. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, sir."

He looked up and she thought she saw gratitude and amazement in equal measure on her face. "Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it. "

He looked down as he moved a little closer to her. During the conversation, she had been leaning against the wall, which was why they were now sitting next to each other.

"I don't know what exactly to make of this. I don't know what I should expect. Or want to expect. However, I agree with you. I would hate to forget all this. I already told you that I'm not ready for a romantic relationship right now. In the near or distant future, maybe I am. We could just take a chance on that?"

Y/N nodded slightly. Reed slowly lifted his arm. "May I?" Again she nodded and he once more put his arm around her. Though this time she didn't feel a rush of warmth, it was pleasant in spite of everything. "We could take it slow," he added after a while.

She looked up at him. "And how?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Would you mind having a weekly dinner together? Of course we'd have to see if it works with our shifts but I'm sure we could work something out. Assuming that's what you're interested in, of course. You don't have to and please don't feel pressured to do it, it's just an offer, I-"

"Love to, sir." Smiling, she looked at him and he returned her smile with a small smirk. "If you don't mind, I'd ask you to just call me Malcolm when we're off duty. Sir sounds so formal."

"Then please, call me Y/N."

"I'd be delighted."

BONUS:

If asked, Y/N wasn't sure she could clearly define the feelings inside her. Five minutes ago, Doctor Phlox had notified her and asked her to come to sickbay. When she asked why, he merely replied that Malcolm had injured himself. Without further hesitation, she had dropped everything and fled from her office in the direction of Sickbay.

She would only have had to work for another ten minutes anyway. Phlox hadn't had time to specify what exactly had happened to Malcolm and in her mind she was imagining the most horrific scenarios, from broken limbs to finding nothing but his dead, cold body in front of her. She stepped into the lift. "Infirmary." The low hum did not reassure her at all.

Nine quiet months had passed since their capture by the Licaurs, during which Malcolm had only volunteered to do the job in an emergency, when no one else was made to do it, to keep from getting hurt and to keep your blood pressure from skyrocketing.

Nine months in which, as agreed, you took things slowly. Weekly dinners, then twice a week, then three times. Over time, an occasional breakfast was added, and when Phlox cancelled, rarely a lunch. Y/N had been worried at first that she would keep him away from his friends, but Malcolm had reassured her.

He would still spend enough time with them and he promised that he would tell her if he felt he was neglecting his friends. After two or three months of eating together, they started spending time outside of meals. Every now and then she would visit him in the armoury or he would visit her in her office. Every time a report from the science department had to be brought to the bridge instantly, she volunteered just to give him a little smile.

After another two months, they had also started to meet occasionally in their quarters. To watch a film, read together, talk or just be in each other's presence. And in those nine months, she had fallen quite in love with the weapons officer. Really deeply. Maybe that was why her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she walked through the doors of the infirmary.

"Doctor?" Instantly, Phlox's smiling face emerged from behind one of the screens. "Ah, Y/N. How good of you to come so quickly."

"Where is he? Is everything all right with him? Please tell me it's nothing fatal."

A laugh rang out from behind the privacy screen. "I'm fine, Y/N." As soon as the voice, dripping with British accent, carried over to her, the knot of fear that he might already be dead disappeared. And then, when the privacy screen was pushed aside and Malcolm emerged, she couldn't suppress a relieved sigh.

"It's nothing life-threatening," Phlox assured her reassuringly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "One of the relays exploded and Lieutenant Reed was hit by one of the pieces. Since he's your partner, I thought it would be good to call you. He just needs some bed rest."

She nodded, suppressing the urge to remind him that she and Malcolm weren't dating . Not yet. "Thank you doctor." The latter smiled broadly at her before turning to Malcolm. "Remember, Lieutenant. No exertion for the next three days. You are relieved of duty." Y/N could tell by the look on his face that Malcolm didn't like it, however he just nodded and walked over to her. She could clearly see that he was limping and struggled with herself whether to support him, but decided against it. Even though he sometimes didn't like to admit it, Malcolm had his pride.

To her surprise, however, he paused in front of the door, took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting so that his uniform tightened around his body, before turning to her with a shy smile. "Could you possibly help me? I would hate to fall in front of the other officers."

For a moment she looked at him, completely perplexed, before rushing to his side with a quiet "Of course." Instantly he put an arm around her, as he had done in the cell, and leaned lightly on her. She realised he wasn't leaning half his weight on her and she felt warm. Just the thought that he cared enough about her to worry that he was too heavy, which he probably would be, those muscles weren't made of air, stirred her heart.

They walked slowly, so as not to overload Malcolm, to the lift. She let him go first and after giving the order to the lift, he leaned against the wall. "Thank you."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You're welcome." Silence. The doors opened and Malcolm wrapped an arm around her again and they continued on their way. Just outside his quarters, Commander Tucker came towards them. She gave him a curt nod so as not to seem rude, but he grinned at Malcolm.

"Don't chicken out this time, all right?" He nodded at her. "Lieutenant." With a cheeky grin he walked on and confused she looked after him. "Malcolm-?" He, however, avoided her gaze, his face deep red. "Never mind," he muttered, opening the door to his quarters. She walked beside him, still confused, and helped him sit down on his bed. He groaned softly and exhaled heavily. "I really should pay more attention." His laugh sounded forced.

"What did Commander Tucker mean just now?" She clasped her hands at her sides questioningly. Malcolm blushed even redder. "Never mind, my darling." He and she froze at the same time. "What-"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention." Malcolm's face much more of a tomato at the moment. "I really didn't mean to. It's just been in my head for weeks, if not months, calling you that and- Oh my... that just sounds worse. Like I'm a possessive creep. I'm sorry..."

"Can you say that again?" Malcolm paused and looked up. What he saw took all the words out of his mouth. She had come closer, her eyes wide, her arms discreetly outstretched towards him, and he thought he saw a certain blush on her face. "What?"

Her face darkened even more and she took a few more steps closer. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest and she thought it could be heard even on the bridge. "Can you say that again? What you just called me?" Malcolm snorted and looked to the side. "Stop making fun of me! I-" Malcolm fell silent as she stood directly in front of him and took his face in her hands. "I'm not making fun of you, Malcolm. I meant it." Gently she ran her thumb over his cheekbone. "Please, Malcolm."

It was his eyes that widened now and he looked at her almost entranced. Gently he placed his hand on hers, which still rested on his cheek, stroking it and brushing her palm with his lips. "My darling." She closed her eyes and let her head fall forward gently. Warmth and a tingling exploded inside her at his words and she felt like she was drowning with love. Apparently Malcolm also seemed to have realised exactly what his words seemed to be doing, because she could feel a slight smirk against her palm. "My love. My sweetheart."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He had straightened up and was staring at her out of his eyes, warm and loving. With his right hand he still held her left. Slowly his hand slid over her forearm, where the black infinity mark was still visible. Bending down slowly, he gently pressed his lips to her warm skin as light as a feather, never losing eye contact.

Her breath caught at the contact and her eyelids fluttered as if they couldn't decide whether to close in pleasure or stay open forever so as not to lose sight of this gorgeous man. Slowly he straightened up again and at that very moment she could stand it no longer. Gently but firmly, she pulled him towards her by the uniform.

Malcolm did not speak back, but even took a step closer. Carefully she ran her hand over his cheek. "I know we said we'd take it slow. Is nine months enough for you to decide what you want?" Malcolm couldn't take his eyes off her. "I think so."

And without much further hesitation, she pulled him close and placed her lips on his. Instantly she felt Malcolm place his hands on her waist and gently pull her closer. Her hands moved up and her fingers ran lovingly through his short brown strands as he in turn gently ran his hands up and down her waist, not going too far.

When they broke away, he pressed his forehead against hers and she smiled with closed eyes. "May I assume that Commander Tucker meant something like that?" He laughed softly. "Trip's been trying to get me to get off my ass for weeks to confess to you that I want a romantic relationship." She ran her thumb over his lips. "Oh really?"

"Mhhh." She kissed him briefly. "I guess I'll have to send him a thank you card then."

Malcolm buried his face in her neck. "Just don't, it'll only grow his ego." She laughed softly. "I want a romantic relationship too, Malcolm. But on one condition."

He raised his head. "I expect to be addressed only by such wonderful nicknames from now on."

"Do you, darling?" he softly purred. She heaved a sigh. "It's not my fault your voice goes with it so beautifully." "Especially my accent." Smiling, she buried her face in his neck. "Especially the accent."

"If that's the case, I guess I won't call you anything else, beloved."

"You won't hear any protest from me."

#star trek enterprise #star trek ent #star trek #lieutenant reed #lieutenant malcolm reed #malcolm reed #malcolm reed x reader #lieutenant reed x reader #reed x reader #lieutenant malcolm reed x reader #female!reader

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

"Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the half-vampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space.

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was.

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe.

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. 

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood."

(Breaking Dawn, page 237)

How the fuck do you read that, or better yet WRITE IT, and not think imprinting is a horrifying brainwashing?? Just HOW!?!?! I was sick to my stomach when I read it and was about to fucking cry. Is the fandom just that delusional?

I wouldn't blame the Twilight fandom on this one as this is most fandoms I've seen.

Soulmates are Big, Yo

People really really really really like soulmate AUs or the idea of soulmates and people destined to be together/made for each other in a way no one else is.

You see media with in-universe soulmates and many times in fandom you'll see AUs of the same tropes (soulmates in general, soulmate tattoos, the red thread, etc.) if there wasn't a soulmate idea already there. And we'll get conflict in that two people who hate each other discover they were soulmates the whole time, they rage against it for a bit, then discover destiny was right and get laid.

Imprinting is the spicier (not quite ABO but on the track of it) version of that where your soulmate is not only made for you/destined for you but will be whatever you need them to be, you will be their only priority in the entire world, they will be your wolfy wolf protector, etc.

Where the Meyer insanity comes in that sets her apart from your typical Ao3 author is that she sets imprinters up with babies. Multiple times.

Bella Also Doesn't Question It

It also helps that Bella our narrator specifically does not question it much. She gets a few questions out of the way with Jake where she gets the "they're whatever people need them to be" but ultimately finds the idea very romantic.

Bella is also quite gullible in her own way. She tends to believe what people tell her immediately and rarely believes they have hidden agendas. She questions Aro but has no idea which of his statements are true and which are lies and why he’d be lying. Edward she takes at face value, Alice, Jacob, there’s not even a question of if they’re lying to her or telling her something that they believe is true but might not be.

Bella just kind of accepts whatever she’s told.

Because Bella doesn't question it, the readers have to be actively questioning Bella or even Jacob in the above bit you have, to really have a "wait a minute" moment. That's not how most people read books, usually a person can take what the narrator says for granted in that "this is what I'm supposed to know and how I'm supposed to think about the universe these characters are in". Remember, that unreliable narrators for most people need to be explicitly pointed out.

So, you get this soulmate idea that people really like and combine it with Bella viewing it in a very rose-colored romantic view and you don't get people questioning it as much as they would otherwise.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #meta #headcanon #opinion