#ten lee x male reader fluff

[spicyseonghwas]

jealous ; ten lee

pairing :: ten chittaphon x male reader genres/au's :: angst, fluff, romance viewer rating :: 13+ (pt.2 WILL contain sexual content) content warnings :: light cursing, crying, kissing, light makeout session, reader calls ten "cheetah" which is a reference to part of the pronunciation of ten's legal first name word count :: 1,646 (1,482 words originally) network tag :: @preciousillusions-net

pt.1 ; pt.2

ten had never had to live without you, not even before he knew there was a heart as pure as yours out there in the world. you had been right there by his side for so long, forgiven so many of his mistakes, that the idea of you not there next to him was excruciating to think about. he couldn't bear it. the thought and sound of your name was beginning to burn a hole in his heart.

you had been in love with ten for years and years now, but you were still absolutely terrified to tell anyone, especially him. he was perfect, you had always known it. he had always treated you like a king, and you had always tried your hardest to treat him the same way in return for his efforts. but it was starting to hurt now, you were starting to feel sort of lonely. and you didn't know who else to go to, because you couldn't just CONFESS TO TEN…

so you went to johnny.

"i… i just don't know what to do, johnny," you whimpered, tightening your arms around johnny's chest and hiding your face with a tiny whimper. "it… it hurts so fucking much…"

"i know it hurts, m/n," he whispered softly back to you, "trust me. i know firsthand how bad love can bite." he tangled his fingers carefully int the baby hairs on the base of the back of your neck, rubbing soft, firm little circles into the muscles in your neck.

"what the hell am i supposed to do, johnny??" you cried into his chest, "i can't keep this from him forever, he's my bet fucking friend! he has a right to know!"

"yeah, but how exactly are you gonna go about telling him this after all the shit you've pulled him through with the rest of the relationships he's tried to commit to?"

"i-i dunno. i guess i'll just have to tell him… he's gotta know." you said quietly, burying your face in johnny's neck. "i'm scared though…"

"i'll be right here the whole time, m/n." johnny whispered into your ear, hugging you tight. "you just tell me when you're ready."

~+~

you inhaled as deeply as you could without hurting yourself, lifting a shaking hand and knocking softly on johnny's door.

"johnny?"

"i'm here." johnny's soft, husky morning voice floated through the material of the door, followed by soft footsteps coming up to the door on the other side. then the door cracked open and johnny's face peeked out.

"what's up?" he asked, peeking around the door and smiling when he saw that it was you on the other side. he opened the door a bit more to hear you better.

"i… i'm ready." you nearly whispered as you tried your best to steady your voice.

"yeah?" he replied, "you're sure?"

you nodded.

"yeah." you said softly, taking deep breaths to try to control your heartbeat a bit.

johnny smiled reassuringly, silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.

"let's go, then."

~+~

"ten?" johnny called softly, knocking on the thai boy's door for the third time. "ten, you there?"

"y-shit, yeah, i'm here." you heard from what sounded like ten's bed, "i'm coming, hang on- DAMN IT, LEO- FUCK-"

"NEVER HAVE CHILDREN, JOHNNY!" ten burst out the second he'd opened the door enough to see johnny.

"ten- ten, you don't have any children…" johnny's voice trailed off and floated away as he looked up and down ten's arms at the fresh cat scratches that adorned them.

"having cats sucks. cats count as children, johnny."

after a long moment of awkward silence and a lingering, slightly worried look between you and johnny, ten finally realized there was a reason he had guests at his room at ten at night.

"what's up, guys?" ten finally asked, "is there something i should know?"

"...yeah," johnny said after a moment of stunned silence, "we need to- m/n-" he corrected himself as he looked at you- "needs to talk to you about something. it's something that's really important to him."

"sure! what's going on, m/n?" ten asked, looking over at you as he backed up to let you into the room.

johnny waved to you, giving you a soft, reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. you waited till he left before following ten into his room. you followed his gestures for you to sit on the bed next to him.

"so what's up, bestie?"

"i... ten, i'm just gonna say this bluntly to preserve my sanity..." you said, taking a deep breath.

"i love you."

"i'm aware of that, m/n."

"what..." your voice trailed off into stunned silence. "n-no-no, ten, i love you. i'm in love with you." you repeated, looking blankly at ten, who simply blinked back at you in silence.

"m/n, we are best friends, i can feel your emotions." ten stated, "i basically live in your fucking walls. i can tell when you're hungry, that's how close we are."

"...ten, that was me confessing my love for you."

"i am completely aware of that, and you seem to be having some trouble accepting this information."

"i-what-TEN, SHUT UP-" you started. but you weren't able to finish your sentence, as your aggravated yelling was cut off and your wrist- the one you now found to have made it halfway towards ten's shoulder with a balled up fist- was suddenly in a tight grip. you felt the weight of ten's whole body press into your own as he pushed you backward onto the bed. your heart raced up into your throat as you felt your back hit the covers.

"ten, what-" you started, but again never finished as you felt ten's lips connect with yours. your face heated up like the air in malaysia, and your eyes fluttered clsosed as your whole body have in to ten's surprise advances.

your face was still hot and your heart was still racing when ten finally broke the kiss, looking as always as though he had never broken a sweat in all of his 27 glorious years of life. ten smiled happily, one hand slipping into yours and the other underneath you as you felt his nose nuzzle your neck. he and you were silent for a while, just relishing in each other's presence, and the event that had just transpired.

but ten wasn't only thinking about the kiss... it was actually starting to slip from his mind.

no...

ten was thinking about johnny.

he was thinking about how much more often you had been hanging around johnny lately, and how much less you seemed to want to spend your time with him, your best friend. it was making his heart hurt, he was scared you were growing away from him.

"you're not really in love with me, are you?" he blurted, not registering that the words had even come out of his mouth until it was already far too late.

"what?" you snapped, sitting up in a panic. "what? ten, i jusst confessed my undying love for you. i just fucking kissed you! what the hell makes you think i'm not in love with you?? who the hell told you that??"

"no one, i just... you've been hanging out with me so much less nowadays, it's making me think you're growing on me a little too much. i'm starting to think you don't enjoy being around me anymore..." ten's voice trailed away, cracking a little as he turned away to shield from your eyes that one single tear that had rolled down his cheek.

"ten, i've been spending time with johnny because i'm a 127 member. we're in the middle of promotions, i have to spend time with him. i have to spend time with my group mates sometimes too! i spend half my life on a stage with them..." you said softly, scooting over and wrapping your arms carefully around ten's slim waist. "just because i'm hanging out with my friends doesn't mean i don't like spending time with you, ten, i love you. my heart aches for you every time you're not there. i. love. you, ten."

ten shook for a moment in your arms, sniffling a bit as he wiped tears from his and eventually turned to look at you.

"y-you promise?" he whispered, looking into your eyes with his own teary ones and nearly breaking your heart in the process. you smiled softly, nodding and moving your hand up to wipe the tears gently off his face.

"yes, ten, i promise." you responded quietly but also a little aggressively. "you're my cheetah, no one else gets to have you."

ten finally smiled, leaning in for another kiss. you obliged, closing the distance and letting your lips mould with his as your arms moved up and wrapped around his shoulders. you didn't remember crawling onto ten's lap, but suddenly you were there, and his hands were snaking carefully under the brim of your shirt. you tilted your head slightly to the side, letting your lips and his mesh together more ffectively, smiling and opening your mouth once when he licked your bottom lip, obviously asking for entrance.

"hmmm, such a bold boy," you hummed, tugging ever-so-lightly on ten's hair. you broke away and grinned like a devil when you felt and heard the other boy frowl quietly into your mouth. he pouted when you pulled back, crawling off his lap and pulling him with you by the hand as you moved backward onto your knees toward the head of the bed.

"c'mere, pretty boy," you growled playfully, grabbing him by the waist and latching back onto his mouth. "fuck me like you want me too..." ten grinned evilly, evidently having somehow managed to remove both your and his shirts without you noticing.

"gladly, darling," he purred, shoving you back into the pillows.

© seonghwas-lighter 2023-2024.

#chase.exe 🌑 #k labels #cacaokpop #nct #wayv #nct x male reader #wayv x male reader #ten lee #ten lee x male reader #ten chittaphon x male reader #ten chittaphon #nct x male reader angst #ten x male reader #ten lee x male reader angst #wayv x male reader angst #wayv angst #ten lee angst #nct angst #nct fluff #kpop strangers to lovers au #ten lee x male reader fluff #nct smut #wayv smut #ten x male reader smut #wayv x male reader smut

[mooncakesofpan]

Wet Paws

Ten x GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Abandoned animal (non explicit)

Word count:1490

Nct Masterlist | Main Masterlist DO NOT STEAL MY WORK

The water patting against the door as I mop dust and sanitize the waiting room for the shelter having seen many animals during the day. A sigh escapes my mouth as I wipe my forehead finish mopping the floors 

Bang Bang Bang

I jump and face a guy standing in the door with a small cat in his arms. I rush to the back to grab the keys and unlock the door. “I found them like this a few streets down and this was the only place open.” he said rushed “Hey hey it's okay let's take this little guy to the back okay” I say moving to the back where some of the medical supplies could be found. I place the gray kitten on some fresh blankets and start to look over it. While I do this silence falls over both of us “Im Y/n by the way” I say wrapping the kitty's paw “Im Ten sorry about banging on your door this late I wanted to make sure he got help” he said standing off to the side “Well it's good you did I don't know if he would have survived out there all night in the cold” I say as the now warmer kitty yawns.

 Ten watches as I get the kitty set up for the night and I continue to lock up the shelter for the night. As I lock the doors my brain starts to wander. Would it be a bad idea to ask for his number FOR THE KITTEN OF COURSE nothing else, he's very attractive I willing to admit that much, but still it would be good to get his number to give him updates for the cat. “I probably should have done this in side but do you mind if I get your number for the cat of course I wouldn't use it for anything else unless you want me to use it for other things I mea-” “Oh yeah here let me see your phone” he chuckles a bit in response to my rambling

This was one the first times I really got to look at him. The water droplets falling from the strands of hair that fell slightly in his face, the red of his cheeks and nose  assumingly from the cold air were standing in, his face illuminated by the light under the shelter entrance. I had been in my own world when it took me a second to realize I was still staring at him as he was staring back at me smirking, Realizing I was clearly distracted by him.

“I wouldn't be mad if you used my number for “other things”” putting the quotes around other things he laughs lightly “I'll see you around Y/n” he put his hood up and walks away. Leaving me there frozen in my own horror. I didn't even say anything. I just stood there in shock. “Other things” was that a joke was serious, clearing the confusion in my mind. I decided to start on my walk home.

I smile welcoming people into the shelter looking to adopt or volunteer. My mind still on ten. I do have to call him about the kitten, in which some of the other shelter workers have decided to name Monty. while checking someone in I here the ding signifying someone else having walked in finishing with the person and letting them walk back I turn to see the person who walk in is Ten “oh Ten hi” I say surprise evident on my face “Hey, I wanted to come in and see how the kittens are doing,” he says, smiling at me. “oh yeah I was just about to call you actually,  you have perfect timing.” I saw a smile creeping onto my face. I motion for him to follow me. We made it back to the kitten who was awake now wandering around in the cage we had set it up in last night.

 “Some of my coworkers decided to name him Monty” I say laughing and the gray car stumbling around. “Aside from the paw he should be fine.” “Nice” then starts to play with the Monty throwing the bars, the cat still clearly tired. My break comes around and i clock out for my lunch,  thinking Ten would stay to play with the cats he gets up and says goodbye to the cats and my co workers “would you mind if I joined you for lunch” he says jogging up to me” “Oh no I don't mind” hands gripping my backpack “I typically eat at this café up here” As we get to the café I order my drink and lunch and sit waiting for Ten to order and we get talking at the booth. The time flies by as we talk about our jobs, Ten love for art and dancing, my love for animals and other hobbies outside of work. By the time we finished i was cutting it close “Well i better head back Ten it was really great talking to you ten” “Yeah we should do this again sometime” yeah … sometime

Weeks past Ten would come in frequently to talk to me and play with the cats and then go with me to the café, that would happen once or twice a week for a good month and a half. And we started texting more.

Walking back into the shelter after lunch with Ten and clocking back in i see Eunjae my co worker standing at the counter “I'm telling you he likes you” she says smirking at me “And I'm telling you Eunjae that he isn't” i say putting my things down “ Y/n come, he came in here yesterday not knowing you were out and you should have seen the disappointment on his face” she said mimicking dramatically what I'm assuming was Ten's face at that moment. “Even if you were right I still wouldn't know what to say or even how to approach that, plus I'm perfectly happy with our café trips” I say , rolling my eyes at Eunjae. “Y/n at this point if you don't say something someone else will” she says a dark look in her eye accompanied with her smirk makes me shiver. “Fine give me till…” i look around for the calendar “give me till the last day of the month” With our deal set in place and the lunches with Ten leading up to it I had to find some type of confidence to just say it , Just rip the words off like a band aid. 

The last week of the month arrived and I was just waiting for that bell to ring. And soon it does right as I'm grabbing some towels for cats. The ringing signaling someone walked in. I turn to see Ten walk in taking off his hat. Eunjae comes around the corner sees Ten and grabs the towels out my hand “Oh don't worry about this i got this why don't you go to your lunch a little early” a smiled blasted on the brunettes face Eunjae, I'm going to kill you later.   “Uhh sure” I grab my bag clock out and walk with Ten to café me being nervous causes me to sit in my own awkward silence my body feeling warm and hands clammy. “You ok?” Ten ask as we walk “Oh yeah I'm fine” “You sure,” he says as we get to the café “yeah “ I say, trying to give a reassuring smile Ten orders and pays for us as I go sit down in the booth we always sit in and mentally panic for a little when he comes back he sits across from me handing me the drink “Hey Ten I do have something I want to say” “ Yeah” the smile on his face making me feel warm again “I know we've been doing the café lunch things for a while and talking and texting. On top of that I like you a lot definitely more than a friend. And I don't know how that's gonna affect our friendship or how you feel about me-” I was cut off by warm lips softly pressed on mine not for long but enough for me to return it  Ten pulls back “I thought you knew these were dates” he laughs I blink taking in what he just told me these past few months he's been considering these dates. Maybe I should have taken the attempts to hold my hand the past few times as a sign or the fact that he's been insisting on paying for me the past few times. The sound of him still laughing draw me out of my shock. “You never said they were dates” I say sipping on my drink “Would you like me to make it more clear” he says chuckling “YES” “Then, would you like to continue our date?” “Better” I laugh.

#wayv x reader #wayv fluff #wayv scenarios #ten x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #kpop fluff #fluff #x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #x fem!reader #kpop x reader #ten lee #ten lee x reader

[wheeboo]

psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen dark fic #seventeen x reader #jun imagines #jun angst #jun dark fic #jun fic #jun fluff #jun x reader #wen junhui imagines #wen junhui angst #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui dark fic #wen junhui fic #wen junhui x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fic #svt dark fic

[ipegchangbin]

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it. 

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot. 

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique. 

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture. 

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA. 

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL 

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection. 

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera. 

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO  you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.” 

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling. 

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy. 

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt. 

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish. 

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching. 

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly. 

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?” 

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring. 

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it. 

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment. 

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you. 

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch. 

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself. 

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock. 

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.” 

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!felix #sub!yongbok #dom!reader #stray kids smut #felix smut #yongbok smut #💬 z is writimg

[junjiie]

해찬  ##  🗯️ ⠀ &THEAFTERPARTY..

IN WHICH ? ⠀ 🔌 ⠀ yn and donghyuck were friends who fooled around once or twice (or rather, far more than either of them wanted to admit) for fun, and that was that. things get a little complicated when the latter shows up back in the city and ends up catching feelings.

Ꮺ PAIRING ₁ ⠀ lee donghyuck x male!reader.

𑁤 GENRE ₂ ⠀ smau, non-idol au, (loose & not mentioned much) uni setting, written parts, fwbs to strangers to lovers, fluff, humour, and a little angst (??).

위험! — WARNINGS ₃ ⠀ swearing, kys jokes, implied sex & sexual references, suggestive jokes, sunwoo of tbz as yn’s fc!!!

⭔ FEATURING ₄ ⠀ mark, renjun, & jeno of nct, jake and heeseung of enha, jiung and keeho of p1h, and more various cameos!!

҂ TAGLIST ₅ ⠀ open! still a kind of #SmallCreator but yk. support small businesses ⭐️ and all that. u dont even know who haechan is but u still want to….. come on…. do it.. send an ask / reply / dm wtv 2be added ^ ^

JJ ₊ ⠀ this has been in my brain for SO long i have been prisoner to so many Haechan Thoughts 💭 its genuinely criminal. bias wrecker like no other ☹️ anw i cant decide for the life of me what i want the vibes to be like so if theres a whiplash inducing tone-shift between every chapter then i can only say sorry in advance. ppl on the perm taglist even if u dont stan nct i hope you will enjoy this mess!! LOVE U ALL (but i love karma a little bit more.. THIS IS ALL 4 U BSF EVER MUAHHH. ok gn im going to bed..)

profiles (･o･;) ⠀ 💣  ⠀ moneysexual wyd warriors

prelude. new york to seoul (written.)

one. chains of capitalism

two. thing-not-thing

three. knock knock

four. delaying the inevitable (written.)

five. slime (no glue) (no borax)

six. with quickness and haste

seven. chismosavirus

eight. took you long enough (written.)

nine. disappointed and ashamed

ten. girls night out

eleven. see you then

twelve. chocolate chips (written.)

thirteen. make yours match

fourteen. up to no good

fifteen. kun’s at 2

sixteen. coffee cake (written.)

seventeen. does he know?

eighteen. you won

taglist ## @wave2love @so2uv @mins-fins @kimgyuuu @wtfhyuck (perm) &&& @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @kosmicbomb @222brainrot @haohyo @dinonuguaegi

#⠀? 동혁 🎱 ⠀ &theafterparty! #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct smau #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagines #nct social media au #lee donghyuck #haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan social media au #haechan smau #haechan fic #haechan imagines #haechan texts #nct texts #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #haechan x male reader #donghyuck x male reader #lee haechan #nct x male reader #nct 127 x male reader #nct dream x male reader #kpop x male reader

[neowinestainedress]

rose-colored glasses (all distorted) | lee jeno

title: rose-colored glasses (all distorted)

pairing: lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) | mentioned: oc's brother!jaemin, lee haechan, park jisung

genre: bet!au, brother’s best friend, angst, smut, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.

warnings: angst, manipulation, gaslighting, fights, jealousy, smut, fingering, oral sex (m and f), (semi) public sex (on Ferris wheel), pussyjob (i guess??), degradation, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jealous sex, make-up sex, inexperienced!oc, feeling like tagging this dubcon bc of the heavy power imbalances (jeno is mean at the start and then he’s slightly possessive and she would do anything to have him in any way, do what you need to do with this information) but there’s always consent

words: 18.294k

playlist: who are you ; 5h | like that ; bea miller | lose you to love me ; selena gomez | you all over me ; taylor swift | case closed ; little mix | can't help falling in love with you (dark) ; tommee profitt | monster ; exo

a/n: i promise it’s a bet!au but with a darker twist. I enjoyed writing this even if it’s quite out of my comfort zone (please don’t make me write mean men anymore I need them to be himbo male wives) but as I said I’m happy with it so I hope the anon that requested it (and all of you) will like it anyway. This story has no intentions of romanticizing this kind of behaviour, if you realize you’re in a manipulative/toxic relationship please ask for help.

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

Having a crush on her brother’s best friends was one of the dumbest things she could ever do. Especially when they had always been in two different leagues. 

Jeno had always been the popular kid at school, after a few years of being a loser in middle school, he picked in high school and college. He was everybody’s first love, tall, charming, the captain of the basketball team, and he even had good grades. 

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. Not a loser like the typical image of the silly girl with pigtails and round, big glasses who spent her days reading books. But still not popular enough to be at his level. She was reserved, she preferred minding her business and spending time with her few friends instead of living in the chaos of frat parties, or disco nights with people she barely knew. She was Jaemin’s sister but she couldn’t be any more different than him. Probably being his sister was the thing that worsened everything. Everybody expected her to be as cool as her brother, funny, cute and charming at the same time, but most importantly, not annoying. 

And yet, all those differences didn’t stop her from falling for Jeno. It was rather impossible when he was always at their place. They grew up together. Sure, she was always a step behind, watching from the side, laughing at his jokes when nobody else did, reminding his birthday to Jaemin that never remembered, admiring him and cheering him silently for every accomplishment he made. But she was there, every day since she was ten falling for him deeper. By now she came to the conclusion it wasn’t just a stupid crush that was going to pass. Too many years had passed by and she still looked at him in the same, delusional, way. Even if Jeno never paid her much attention, no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t like Jeno couldn’t see it. He knew she had a thing for him, he could see how she squirmed every time their bodies touched casually, or how big her lips curled when he greeted her and most importantly… rumors ran. 

He knew. But there was something funny in keeping her on the edge, seeing that, somehow, the harsher he treated her, the more she came back, wagging her tail every time he acted just a little bit nicer than usual. 

And his group of friends knew too, always joking about it when they all stayed at Jaemin’s place and he left for a few minutes, giving them the opportunity to talk about his sister that always found a way to go downstairs just to say hello. So they talked about her a lot, chuckling, joking, saying that overall she wasn’t that bad and maybe he could’ve given it a try. But all of them were a little bit too competitive. Jeno was sure that if he only gave her a bit more she would’ve fallen to her knees, Haechan believing that she was too proud and innocent to actually risk it for him, while Jisung listened, laughing, but not believing she would’ve given up so easily. 

But Jeno was firm in his belief. He knew she was already his. But it was risky; she wasn’t just anybody, she was his best friend’s sister, and even if Jaemin never showed to care much about her, he knew it was still a dangerous game to play. 

But Jeno was a player, and he loved risky games. 

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed when, turning around, she saw Jeno lean against her bedroom doorframe. “Jaemin’s not home.” 

“I know,” he replied, shrugging and making his way in. “I wasn’t looking for Jaemin.” 

She furrowed, trying not to panic over the fact he had never been so close to her with nobody else around. “Our parents aren’t home.” 

He snickered, “I’m not looking for them, either.” 

“Then who are you looking for?” Her voice betrayed her, shaking a bit, but she shrugged it off with an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, you are dumb, aren’t you?” 

“What?” 

“I’m looking for you,” he said, sitting on her bed, and looking around. “Jesus, you do love pink,” he exclaimed, almost with a hint of disgust in his voice. 

“Can you tell me what are you doing in my room?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and standing in front of him, having no idea where she found the courage, and deciding to let the comment about her room fall. 

“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he explained, placing his hands behind him on the mattress, stretching his legs out and tilting his head to the side, “wanted to know if you were coming.” 

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. “You are inviting me?” 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“You hated when my mom forced you to bring me along.” 

“Yeah, because you were a loser back then and annoyed the fuck out of me.” 

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “This is how you are inviting me to a party?” 

“I said ‘were’, I think we can get along now,” he said, standing up, and leaning close to her. “Or am I wrong?” He whispered while his hand placed on her waist, making her move back in surprise, but he stopped her, gripping tighter. 

She gulped, lifting her head, and stared at him. “You barely talk to me…” 

Jeno smirked, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I want things to change.” 

She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his and not on his lips, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him. This meant nothing. Jeno never looked at her like that. So why would he start doing it now? 

“Do you want things to change between us?” He asked, almost cooing, moving his thumb on her lips, grazing gently. 

“Ye-yeah, I do,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling back, turning around to hide the big breath she was taking now that she wasn’t in his hold anymore. But Jeno knew it anyway; she always did that even when he barely touched her or stood too close to her for more than two minutes. 

“Great, see you this Saturday, then,” Jeno smiled, winking at her before closing the door behind him.

Her heart was beating ten times faster than usual, and a grin was not leaving his face until he walked downstairs and saw Jaemin. That was going to be fun, but he needed to be careful. 

The party wasn’t chaotic like the high-school parties he and Jaemin used to plan every time their parents weren’t home, it was mostly their closest friends and some other people she had never seen before. But the music wasn’t too loud, there was nobody already drunken or high, lying on the floor, and most importantly, there weren’t couples all over each other in the living room. 

She found out later from her brother that it was an inauguration for the house Jeno just bought, finally free out of his parent’s clutches. But of him, there were no traces. 

She had been wandering around the place for like ten minutes now, a drink in hand as she hummed to the music playing from the speakers. Pushing the black dress she was wearing down her thighs, regretting the choice every two seconds she took a step and it rolled a little bit more up on her legs. 

“I was looking for you everywhere.” 

“You scared me!” She screamed, turning around too swiftly and spilling the alcohol all over his shirt, gasping and biting her lips nervously when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, shit, sorry. I can help you fix that.” 

“Enough,” Jeno stopped her, blocking her empty hand from touching his wet chest. “My bedroom, now.” 

“Yo-your bedroom?” She stuttered as he dragged her upstairs, leaving the party behind. “What are we doing in your bedroom?” 

Jeno laughed mockingly, pushing her inside. “We’re fixing the mess you made. Why? Thought I was dragging you here to fuck?” 

She moved her mouth without letting out a sound, feeling shame creep over her face. 

“Yes? Want me to fuck you, babe?” He asked, lifting her head up by the chin and smirking at her flustered face. 

“I – no, why would I?” She chuckled awkwardly, pulling away. “If you get changed, I can clean it, and then I’ll give it back to you once it dried,” she said, bringing the topic back to his stained shirt. 

“I have a washing machine here,” he said, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, making her get lost in his toned chest and abs. She had never seen him so exposed, but she was sure as hell that he had never been like this before.

“Close your mouth,” he ordered. 

“It’s closed,” she retorted, grunting but still diverting her gaze from him. 

“Sure,” he chuckled, throwing the dirty shirt on his desk chair; he didn’t even care about the shirt, he just wanted to spend time alone with her. “Anyway, I need you to help me pick another one.” 

“That’s why I am here?” 

“Yeah, I told you, I don’t want to fuck you.” 

“Stop it. I don’t want either,” she replied, biting her lower lip nervously and tapping her high heels against the floor.  

Jeno studied her, another smirk curled his lips before he sighed. “Help me fix the mess you made so we can go to the party and have some fun.” 

When they reached downstairs again, she had no idea how she was still standing on her feet, staying too close to him and helping him close the buttons of the new shirt he picked got in her brain. Jeno pointing out all her weird antics didn’t help her much at relaxing. And just when she thought she was free and could find a corner to dance alone and then run home and avoid him forever, she got dragged on the couches. 

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Haechan chanted, making her sit next to him. “You can’t miss it.” 

“Truth or dare? How old are we? Fifteen?” She asked, looking around at the others, hoping somebody was going to back her up. 

“That’s why I never wanted to bring you along,” Jaemin booed, “because you’re boring.” 

She wanted to talk back, but the hums of agreement of his friends made her shut her mouth and squeeze more in her place. 

“We’re starting from the youngest,” Haechan said. 

“Man, why always from me?” Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, receiving a look from his friend. “Fine, truth.” 

So they started playing, too many dumb dares and too spicy truths for her liking, but she tried to be likeable and don’t be a buzzkill. 

“Truth,” she chose for the first round, fearing the question, already knowing it was going to be something embarrassing or something she couldn’t answer because it wasn’t like she had many adventures. 

“Where was the wildest place you ever had sex?” Haechan asked, making her face heat up immediately.

“Dude, that’s disgusting, she’s my sister,” Jaemin whined, turning around and fake-gagging. 

But she was standing still, wanting to die under the interrogating gazes of the others. “I… I only did it in a bed,” she confessed as her eyes skimmed all over the room to avoid the mocking smirks on the others’ faces. 

“Wow, yeah, should’ve expected it from you,” he mocked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

She bit her lip, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, until her eyes met Jeno’s. He was staring at her but she couldn’t decipher what he was hiding under his gaze or if his lips were turned in a genuine smile or a mocking one. But it didn’t matter… well, it didn’t until she had the brilliant idea of picking dare. 

“Guess what, we’re hoping you can spice up your life in one night,” Haechan joked. “You have to play seven minutes in heaven with Jeno,” he said, turning around and winking at his friends. 

She expected Jeno to gag or complain about the pairing, but he didn’t. He looked at her, stood up and then reached his hand for her to grab. She hesitated, looking over at Jaemin for approval, but she gagged instead when she saw a girl all over him. 

“Come on,” Jeno urged her, making her drift her gaze from her brother. “I’ve got a brand-new closet to try.” 

The walk to his bedroom was silent as she felt panic run in her veins. 

“You know that it doesn’t have to be sex, right? You can also just talk while playing seven minutes in heaven,” she mumbled when he opened the bedroom and started walking to the closet. “Or we could do nothing, that’s also valid, you –” 

“Will you shut up for a second?” He asked, turning around, stopping in front of her, pushing her inside before closing the doors behind them. “Great, so much better for my ears,” he huffed. “And, to answer your annoying questions, no, there’s no fun in that.” 

“We can’t do that in seven minutes,” she muttered. “Also you said you didn’t like me like that, you said that just before, you-” When he shushed her with a kiss she felt her knees buckle and her heart race and it felt like a fever dream. 

“That’s something that shouldn’t happen in this game, you know? No kissing allowed.” 

“No kisses but sex yes?” 

He chuckled, making her walk back, sitting her on a small white desk next to the wall, dress lifting up, barely covering half of her thighs. “Weird, isn’t it?” 

She hummed, breath shaking when his cold hands ran on her naked thigh. “Wait, I’ve never done this.” 

“I thought you said you did it in a bed?” 

“I – I did but it was ages ago and it was…” she stopped, embarrassed, “it was bad.” 

“Oh, yeah, not surprised,” he replied. “Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t know,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her panties. 

“I think your body trusts me,” he whispered against her neck when he moved the panties to the side and felt how wet she was. “Is this from before? Did seeing me half-naked got you like this?” 

“N-no, why would it, mmh,” she stopped when his fingers started circling on her clit. “We shouldn’t – we shouldn’t –”

“Do this?” He asked, smirking and pushing a finger inside her, making her roll her head back against the wall. “I will make you come if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not your ex-boyfriend.” 

“Jeno –” 

“Shh,” he shushed her, lips barely brushing against hers, “you don’t have to hold it back,” he whispered, starting to move his fingers inside her wet pussy. “I know you want this so badly. You’ve been dreaming about my fingers for so long,” he cooed, smirking when she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright, baby. A lot of people would want these fingers buried inside of them… and you are the lucky one tonight.” 

“You won’t tell Jaemin, right?” 

He snickered, “what happens here is a secret, honey. Just relax, stop being so serious, that’s why nobody can’t stand you. You think too much.” 

She was about to open her mouth again and talk back but when his two fingers curled inside of her and hit the spot that made her tremble, she could only try to hold in the whimpers and let her head fall against his shoulder. 

“There,” he hummed, “so much better.” 

“Mhh,” she mumbled, her hand reached for his other arm and squeezed tight, trying to hold onto something, “feels good.” 

“I know, baby, I know. He didn’t give it to you like this, right?” He teased, moving his hand to reach for her hair and force her head up so he could look at her face, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted to let out low moans. “What about this?” He asked, adding a third finger and starting to move his thumb on her clit, eliciting a choked sob to roll out of her mouth and to open her eyes fully. “You like this?” He asked, but he knew the answer, she was dripping over his hand and her hips were rolling against his thumb searching for more friction. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lips, nails digging into his arm when he started to move faster into her, making her try to close her legs, embarrassed by the lewd sounds of her wetness, but Jeno only smirked and forced her legs parted. 

“No, pretty,” he whispered, “want to see you.” 

“I think I… I’m close,” she confessed, feeling her body burn up and a new weird sensation build up in her stomach. 

“You think?” He asked, tapping her cheek so she would open her eyes. “Oh… he never made you come?” 

She nodded, diverting her gaze again, feeling the sensation intensify with every thrust of his fingers. “Mhh, it’s too much, feels – feels too good,” she whimpered, hips grinding against him, and lower lip bleeding for how hard she was biting on it. But Jeno couldn’t care, he knew she could take it, she simply wasn’t used to it, but he was going to make her get used to it. This was just a preview of everything he could give to her, a small window on the world he could show her. 

“Come,” he ordered, “I don’t think we have much time. And you don’t want Haechan to hear you moan like a whimpering mess, right?” 

She shook her head before throwing it back, feeling a new sensation rush over her, her stomach tightened and her toes curled in her shoes while her hips bucked up against him. 

“No more, no more,” she whimpered, trying to push him away. 

“Shh, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he shushed her, thumb grazing her cheek. She blinked, trying to shake the dizziness out of her brain, eyes falling on his lips, wishing she could taste them again because the kiss of before was so unexpected that her brain didn’t even have time to register it.

And Jeno knew it, but he needed her to crawl back to him, he couldn’t give her everything just yet. He needed time, precious time, filled with tests and games that she needed to pass and then maybe she would’ve gotten to him. He couldn’t even care about that stupid bet anymore, if the time was ticking and he needed to get with her in two months, he wanted to have her in the palm of his hands and play with her like a puppet. 

“I told you I could make you feel good like nobody else ever did,” he said, winking, pulling away, leaving her sitting on the desk, slowly realizing what just happened. “Like nobody else ever will,” he whispered, turning around, waiting for Haechan to call them down again. 

She shouldn’t have felt special. She shouldn’t have felt the butterflies fly in her stomach just because Jeno touched her for a stupid game. Yet, she did. Jeno was the only thing that filled her thoughts for the passing weeks. When she was trying to work. When she watched a movie. And when her hands shily moved on her body, desperately trying to replicate the feeling his fingers made her feel. 

But nothing came close to him. She needed him, every day a little bit more than the day before. But the more she craved him, the more he seemed ephemeral. She couldn’t reach him, she didn’t have his number, and she never dared to sneak into her brother’s phone to steal it. She already looked pathetic in his eyes, so she needed to win him in another way. She needed to appear charming in his eyes and make him fall for her for real. But she didn’t know what he liked, or well, the only thing she knew he liked for sure wasn’t going to make him fall for her. But it was something. And something was better than nothing. 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll wait here.” As soon as those words slipped out of Jeno’s mouth and Jaemin closed the main door behind him, she took the last steps on the stairs to reach him, running to the couch, waiting for him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked when, coming back to his seat, he saw her sit there. 

“Because it’s my home?” She replied, playing dumb. “I thought both of you left.” 

“But I’m right here, so…” 

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” She asked, ignoring the way he was, not so subtly, trying to make her leave. 

He snorted, “why would I want to watch a movie with you?” 

“Because I’m bored.” 

“You are bored, not me,” he huffed, sitting down. “Also, Jaemin will be back soon, we don’t have time for a movie.” 

She shifted, sitting on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulder, “Then can we do something else?” 

He looked at her up and down, trying to study her expression, “Like?” 

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?” 

“What are you on?” 

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night,” she started and Jeno stopped her immediately. “Exactly, so why are you bringing it up?” 

“Let me finish, please,” she begged, and Jeno nodded, curios to know where she wanted to go. “It was… good. I mean, you are good so, I was thinking that maybe we could…” 

“You want to be my sex buddy?” He finished for her, a mocking smile on his face. 

“I want you to teach me,” she confessed, feeling shame take over. 

Jeno raised a brow, tilting his head, “you want sex lessons from me?” 

She nodded, lip trapped in her teeth. 

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you? Especially like that.”

She stammered, not knowing what to answer and he rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, fine, since you want my attention so bad, let’s try this,” he said, turning around, face so much closer to hers now. “You have to prove to me that it won’t be a total loss of time.” 

“H-how?” 

He smirked, moving a strand of hair out of her face, “I gave you something the other week, didn’t I?” She hummed. “Give it back to me.” 

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, it’s not fair.” 

“Alright, consider this the first trial lesson. If you’re not a total failure, which I doubt, I’ll give you what you want.”

Her eyes moved around the room, suddenly realizing how dumb everything was. That was a bad idea. That was the lowest point she could reach just to have him somehow. 

“You know what, I… I think I don’t need those lessons,” she said, jumping off the couch but she had no time to walk around it that Jeno was already in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I know you don’t really want these lessons,” he said, pushing her back against the couch. “All you want is my attention, isn’t it? You got a taste,” he whispered, lips almost touching hers, making her lean closer, only making him smirk, “and you can’t get enough.” 

She wanted to deny it but there was no point anyway. It was written all over her face. It was in the way her thighs were squeezed together. It was in the way she had never worn clothes this revealing before around him. 

“Am I right?” He asked again because he wanted to hear those words slip out of her mouth, he wanted her to admit how obsessed she was with him. 

“Yes, I can’t get enough.” 

He smirked before moving his hand down on her neck, thumb caressing her jaw, “So… do you want to have a bigger taste?” 

She nodded and then dropped to her knees when he pushed her down. Hesitant, shaky hands moved to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and underwear down, exposing his already half-hard cock. 

“Can you get me hard?” He asked, already knowing that it was a matter of seconds with the way she was looking up at him. 

No words slipped out of her mouth, she only nodded and then started pumping his dick, but his stern gaze made her lower her face. 

“God, I really have to teach you,” he complained, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Open your mouth, your hands are useless.” 

“Good,” he moaned when she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out. “See, you know how to do it, you just don’t want me to think you do.” 

She was about to retort when he pushed almost all the way down, making her gag around him. But the discomfort didn’t last long, it felt unexpectedly good. She liked the sensation of his length on her tongue, or how she could feel the slight throbs when she sucked harder. But what she liked the most was the way Jeno’s face was contorted in pleasure and how deep moans came out of his lips.

“Don’t give me those – fuck – innocent eyes. Where did you learn, uh? With porn – shit – or reading?” He asked when she opened her eyes and met his, making him lose his mind.

“No, don’t answer, I don’t care where you learned. I just – fuck – need you to keep doing that. Keep sucking,” he ordered, making a makeshift ponytail with her hair and guiding her on his length. “Can you take all of it?” 

Her eyes snapped up, looking at him, silently telling him that she couldn’t. 

“Oh, you can’t?” He snickered. “But I’m here to teach you. That’s what you wanted, right? For me – fuck – to teach you. Then learn,” he said, pushing deeper down, making her gag around it. “Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose,” he told her, slowing down, pushing out before sliding in again. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised, and her thighs clenched together at his words, feeling wetness pool in her panties. “You are good at this,” he smirked, eyes glistening as he watched her concentrated expression and the way her cheeks hollowed around his girth and her tongue twirled around his head when she reached the tip. 

“Do you exercise with Jaemin’s other friends? Uhm? Or am I the only one?” He grinned when she shook her head, still not pulling away from him. “No? The only one? The only one you get on your knees for?” 

She nodded again, stopping working on him to breathe again, “o-only you,” she said, glossy eyes looking up at him, drool dripping down her chin. 

“Can you be a good girl and take more for me?” He asked, wiping the drool away, and lifting her chin up. 

“More?” She asked, voice trembling. 

He hummed, “Can you let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? You don’t have to do anything but keep your mouth open for me.”

“Yea-yeah, I can,” she replied, parting her lips again and giving him full access. A muffled moan rolled out of her lips as soon as his hold on her hair tightened and he started thrusting into her mouth fast. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back, “you feel good. Are you sure this is – fuck – your first time?” 

She tried to nod, hands wrapping around his thighs as she started gagging more around him. “What, baby? Want to breathe?” He cooed but without stopping. “Here. Take a deep breath, just like that,” he said when he pulled out of her, making her cough to catch her breath again. 

“Oh, look at you, opening your mouth again,” he said, tugging her hair and pushing into her mouth again. “I thought you were going to start – fuck – crying. But no – shit – you love this, don’t you?” He teased, staring into her watery eyes, feeling his orgasm close already. 

She nodded, squeezing her eyes when he hit deeper, gagging around his length. 

“It’s alright, baby,” he moaned, “I’m close. Gonna fill your pretty mouth and you – fuck – you will take it all like a good girl, uh?” 

She moaned around him, closing her eyes, trying to relax more as his thrusts got faster, closing her thighs together, skin burning up in shame as she felt her panties get wetter and stick to her skin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, gritting his teeth and coming into her mouth. “Swallow it. Everything,” he ordered, pushing lazily into her mouth, emptying himself before pulling out. “Everything,” he repeated, grabbing her chin, and making her look up at him, watching as she swallowed all of his cum. “Good girl,” he praised her, leaning in, making her believe he was going to kiss her but instead he licked a stripe of seed that dripped on her chin and smirked at her disappointed face. 

“Get up, you don’t want your brother to find you on your knees in front of my cock, right?” He said, reaching out his hand, helping her stand up after he pulled his pants back up.

“Come here,” he whispered, cleaning her chin with a napkin and fixing her messy hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He asked and she hummed, diverting her gaze from his, nervously playing with her fingers and squeezing her thighs together, feeling her pussy throb for how turned on she was. And Jeno knew it, but she needed to be patient. Time. He needed to take time. 

“What’s with that face? You wanted the whole thing, didn’t you? You have to earn it.” 

After that, other weeks of silence passed. Jeno only said hi when he passed over and nothing else. And she started to realize that she was being played, or better, that she was playing right into his fantasy, so she needed to get him out of his mind. 

But it wasn’t like she had any idea of how to stop thinking about him. She had tried for more than 10 years to stop her heart from beating so fast every time she saw his face, or don’t stutter every time he addressed her. And she never succeeded. So how could she do it now? Now that she got so much more than a taste, now that she knew what his lips tasted like, now that she knew what his fingers felt like, now that she could scent his perfume every time she closed her eyes. 

And, worst of it all, it felt like Jeno knew when she would start to get tired of playing this game of push and pull and always came back to her, every time giving her a bit more, and yet, a bit less. 

And then one day everything changed.

“Hey! You’re soaked.” His voice rang in the late afternoon in the middle of the street. It was raining and she forgot to bring an umbrella with her, also, she couldn’t call anybody because her parents and Jaemin were out of town.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she whispered, keeping on walking, not wanting to turn around and fall on her knees more. 

“Stop walking and get in, you’re gonna get sick,” he screamed, driving behind her slowly. 

“As if you care,” she mumbled, trying to shield her body from the cold, cringing at the way the raindrops fell inside her clothes and wet her skin. 

“I do care,” he whispered, grabbing her arm, and turning her around, chest to chest, rain wetting them both. “And now get in.” 

“I don’t need you to come and save me –”

“I said, get in,” he ordered, sharp eyes looking into hers, not giving her a chance to talk back or disagree. So she lowered her head and walked to the passenger seat without saying a word. 

“You can’t live without me,” he whispered when they were both in the car and started driving again in the chaos of Seoul’s streets. 

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffed, crossing her leg on top of the other and turning her body toward the window, watching as the drops ran on the glass and the lights outside appeared blurred. 

“You are mad at me because I didn’t reach for you this week,” he said, tapping his fingers on the wheel, and it took a lot for her to don’t turn around and stare at them and imagine once again how they ran on her body and made her shiver. “Tell me I am wrong, come on.” 

She pressed her lips in a thin line, and then brushed her hair behind, “No, you are not wrong.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her turn around in surprise, eyes focusing on his face, studying his profile, wondering why he apologized. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging for so long, I’ve been busy.” 

She hummed, looking in front of them this time, and squeezing in the passenger seat. Not replying because it didn’t matter anyway. He had been clear, she meant nothing to him, so what was the point of building up castles that were going to fall? 

“Why are you not taking me home?” she asked when she realized he was driving in another direction. 

“I know nobody’s home, don’t want to leave you alone,” he explained, coming to a stop at a streetlight, facing her and smiling… his sweet smile? The kind of smile he never, ever directed at her? 

“I’m an adult, I can stay home alone,” she replied anyway. She needed to push him away, she couldn’t keep falling for his game, no matter how sweet he appeared to be. It probably was fake, just so he could brag with Jaemin about how much of a gentleman he was and didn’t let his little sister all alone in the middle of a storm. 

“You wanted my company so badly the other day, why is it different now?” He grinned, before moving his hand on the shift to start the car again and sprint toward his place. 

“We won’t fuck tonight.” 

“Never said we had to,” he replied. 

“Then why do you want me at your place?” 

He shrugged, pulling into his driveway. “Are you sure you’re the only one that can’t live without the other?” 

She stood there, frozen on the spot, brain struggling to register his words and to comprehend if what she understood was what he meant. He liked her too? He wanted to spend time with her? 

“Wait,” she said, opening the door and running outside. Trying to don’t get wetter under the rain, reaching him under the porch while he struggled with the keys to open the do. “You find me annoying, you said you don’t want to spend time with me, you avoided me for so long, why do you do this?” 

Jeno sighed, throwing his jacket somewhere and getting out of his shoes as soon as they stepped in. “Undress.” 

“What! You said we weren’t going to have sex.” 

“It’s to give you new clothes, dummy,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, walking to his room, a path she knew too well by now, and yet her breathe faltered just like the first time she found herself there. And it didn’t matter that nothing was going to happen, it was the thrill of being so intimate with him somehow.

“You didn’t answer,” she complained while he looked for something to give her in his closet. He turned around, a white shirt in hand, giving it to her that was now only covered with her panties and bra. 

“I find you annoying but maybe I like it,” he replied. “You look interesting under the surface.” 

She didn’t want to smile so big but her lips moved automatically, a dumb smile creeping on her face, eyes glistening. 

“Calm, now,” he warned as soon as he saw her reaction. “This doesn’t mean we are dating, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. And now get dressed, before I don’t keep up with the promise of before.” 

The heat of the house made them find comfort from the cold outside while they eat something while the television was turned on mostly to fill the silence between them. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She asked while cleaning her lips from the soy sauce that dripped on her mouth. 

“What?” 

“Everything,” she said. “We’ve known each other for so long but… we don’t really know anything about us.” 

“You don’t?” He quirked a brow, licking his lips before placing down the empty bowl. “You think Jaemin didn’t tell me about all the questions you used to ask?” 

Her cheeks heated up, cursing lowly at her brother for not being able to keep a secret. “Okay, fine, but he’s not you. I don’t know it from you.” 

“Maybe you should tell me something about you. I think I can read you easily but not enough to get somewhere,” he said. “And you want to get somewhere, right?” 

She hummed and then took a deep breath before opening up. Talking over and over again, letting him know even the most irrelevant things about her. Letting him go deeper than anybody else, not even caring if something was embarrassing. She trusted him. 

And Jeno listened, finding out that yes, she was a lot, but maybe it wasn’t so annoying. And the more he knew about her, the better. 

And then he started speaking. But his words were calculated, just like the stories he was telling. He knew what he was saying, he knew what he was doing. He was giving her a piece of himself without actually giving her anything. Without letting her slip deep under his skin. Yet for her it was enough, no, for her it was everything. She had never seen him so open, had never seen his body so relaxed beside hers, no walls were diving them right there. And that, mixed with all the sweet tempting words from before, made her fall into a vortex from which she would never get out. 

Jeno had trapped her in his golden cage, but she did not know it yet, and probably, she would’ve never realized that.

“Why are you so happy?” Jaemin asked his sister, staring at her with a disgusted expression on his face. She had been hopping instead of walking for days, always had a smile on her face, and strangely she wasn’t clingy, always locked in her room, only God knows doing what. 

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be happy that your sister’s happy?” She asked back, pouting before grabbing something to eat and running upstairs again, hiding from her brother’s questions.

Jeno had kissed her. 

After talking for hours, after being so close and at the same time so far away, Jeno leaned close to her and kissed her. This time for real. A slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that she had well imprinted in her mind. 

But not only that. His hands had touched her skin, trembling, and full of shivers. His long, slender fingers had trailed over her thighs, and then over her hip and held her close to him. And if she closed her eyes she could still relive all those emotions, from his scent to his eyes that had never been so real and close to her before. 

Also, they had slept together. She, Jaemin’s delusional sister who had fantasized so much and for so long about ending up in his arms, had slept in Jeno’s bed. 

And not like the other girls he let pass in his bed before, asleep in a tangle of sheets and sweat and cum. No, they slept in fresh, clean sheets, with his arms around her waist and his breath hitting the back of her neck. And although in the morning when she had woken up, he was not there, that was enough. 

Because Jeno was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and bidding her good morning with a smile on his face that tasted like something new, something genuine. Big brown eyes creasing up in half-moons and cheeks lifting up. 

Though… there was a but.

‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’ He had told her as he drove her home, serious gaze facing the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing her thigh. ‘It’s our little secret. You know how to keep secrets, don’t you?’  

And she nodded, confident that she could do it. That if she had kept her crush on him a secret for so long, she surely could keep their ... relationship a secret? Or friendship? Or friends with benefits? She had no idea, she didn’t know what bound them together, she didn’t even know if there was actually anything that tied them together. But it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t now, it would be in a few months. It was only a matter of time. Jeno wanted to get to know her, Jeno wanted her to be a part of his life as much as she wished he was a part of hers. 

‘hey, it’s me. are you free this friday?’ 

She blinked twice, shifting her attention from her pc to the phone beside it, trying to understand why an unknown number was texting her until she opened the message and ‘– jeno’  appeared at the end.

‘how did you get my number?’ 

‘i have my ways 😉 anyway, for friday? i need to buy some things for my place, it’s too empty, thought you could help’ 

She breathed deeply, looking around only to waste time and not answer right away just to don’t look desperate. As if she didn’t already answer ‘yes’ in her mind even before she knew what they were going to do, as if she wouldn’t have always been available for him.

‘yep, fine by me. where do we meet?’ She replied after a few minutes, hands sweating and heart throbbing harder in her ribcage. 

‘my place, i’ll drive.’ 

And that wasn’t a date, surely not a date like she always imagined but it was something. It was nice not hearing him huff annoyed at her every word, or seeing that he didn’t move away from her with a disgusted face when their hands brushed together casually. He even laughed at her unfunny jokes. 

“Our parents were never home,” she said. After buying everything, he offered to buy her a milkshake in a small coffee shop at the mall, so now they were sitting at a table in front of each other. “I mean, even when they were, they never paid much attention to us.” 

“That’s why I was always there,” Jeno chuckled. “Your mother couldn’t see the mess me and Nana made.” 

She smiled, lifting her gaze on him, but still stirring the liquid in her glass. “I wanted to move out of there so many times, but my job barely makes me afford my car bills and the few hobbies I have. How did you do it?” 

“Well, it’s not fair when your dad pays half of it, right?” 

“Your parents are cool. I remember when they used to bring you and Jaem to the amusement park. I never went there.” 

“Never? Not even once?” He asked, surprised. 

“Nope,” she confessed, biting her lower lip, already embarrassed at what she was about to say. “I always wanted to win a bunny from the water gun game,” she confessed. “You won it to Jaemin once. I was so jealous of that plushie.” 

He smiled. “Well, I might win one just for you.” 

Her eyes lit up, locking into his, heart doing cart-wheels in her chest. “You would?” 

He hummed, hand under his chin, rubbing it lightly, “Why not? Next Saturday? How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds amazing,” she squealed. “I love you so much.” 

He smiled, looking at her, feeling a bit of warmth spread in his chest. Maybe she was nice. Maybe betting on her wasn’t the right way to start this. 

When Saturday night arrived, she was vibrating with excitement. Wearing a red top, a leather black jacket and black shorts, she grabbed her small bag and rushed outside, swiftly warning her parents and Jaemin that she was going out with her friend and she wasn’t sure she was coming back. Receiving no answer. 

But she didn’t care, she couldn’t care if at home nobody paid her attention. She had a date with Lee Jeno. Jeno was taking her to an amusement park for the first time and he would’ve even tried to win her a big, soft bunny she desired so much. So not even the bus ride – that she usually hated – to his place bothered her at all. 

“Hi,” she greeted shily when she walked into the driveway and saw him leaning against his car. Black jeans wrapping around his legs, black shirt covering his chest and red jacket shielding him from the light breeze of the night. 

“Hi, bunny. We’re matching,” he pointed out, dragging his eyes on her body and then smiling when their eyes met. 

“Yeah, we didn’t even plan it,” she replied, a shy smile widening her lips as she opened the car door and stepped inside. 

The car ride felt different from the others. The atmosphere was light while music played on the radio and they hummed along. There were no side-eyeing or annoyed sighs coming out of his lips like it used to happen when he was forced to bring her along because they couldn’t leave Jaemin’s sister alone. Now, Jeno glimpsed at her, diverting his attention from the street, with his lips curling in a warm smile. 

And even the whole date at the amusement park was different from all the other times they hung out together. 

It was like being around a different Jeno. He was carefree, laughing at her bad puns. He was kind, always paying for the rides tickets, drinks and food or wrapping a hand around her shoulders when they tried scarier attractions and she was afraid. And he looked beautiful, more than usual. There was something magnetic in the way his black hair framed his face, and his lips curled in soft smiles, making his eyes crinkle up too. He radiated a new sense of safeness. And she knew for sure that she was falling deeper. 

“Now that we tried everything there’s only one thing missing,” Jeno said, dragging her toward the biggest attraction. 

“The Ferris wheel?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, fighting back the urge to intertwine their hands together. Jeno had been rather touchy the whole night, but she didn’t want to cross lines and ruin the amazing night they had. 

“Yeah, are you scared?” He asked, waiting in line. “You have me by your side,” he said and then leaned in, whispering next to her ear, “and when you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about.” 

She hummed, torturing her lower lip and shifting closer to him, and, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she had no idea how her knees didn’t fail her and make her fall to the ground. She didn’t even know how she didn’t pass out for the whole queue since his fingers kept caressing her skin. 

“We should be able to see the whole city when we get up there,” Jeno commented, looking around waiting for the wheel to start moving now that they were inside of a cabin, sitting next to each other. 

“Yeah, I guess,” she hummed, legs buckling in nervousness, and squeezing in her arms to avoid attaching to him like a koala on a tree. 

Jeno picked it up quickly and turned to her with a furrow. “Are you afraid of heights for real?”

“M-me?” She giggled awkwardly. “No, haha.”  

“You are shaking like a leaf,” he pointed out, hand resting on her thigh to stop – at least – one of her legs from shaking. 

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way the ride was moving and how – in fact – Seoul was shining beneath them. “What was that?” She asked, panicking when they felt a jolt and the cabin stopped at the higher spot. 

“I think it stopped,” Jeno replied. “A planned stop… I guess.” 

“Planned? Or maybe the wheel broke, and we will fall, no, no, we will crash on the ground and you know there are no chances of surviving and this will be how we die? What will we tell my family, they don’t know about us, they think –” 

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her close, air cutting short in her lungs not from fear but the chills that he was making run down her spine. “It’s alright,” he whispered, slightly pulling away. “I told you, you have me.” 

She looked at him not totally convinced because if the cabin fell, having him by her side wasn’t going to save her. Surely, it would’ve made her death sweeter, oddly, and tragically romantic but it was still death. 

“I’m sure it’s just to show the view,” he explained, kissing her again, and again, and then his lips moved down, kissing away the chills on her exposed neck. “But since you don’t like the view…” he whispered, cupping her right boob, squeezing just enough to make her roll her head back. “I can give you something to keep you distracted. What do you think?” 

“Yeah,” she moaned, “I’d like that.” She unconsciously parted her legs, not a single cross about being in public crossing her mind.

“Great,” he smiled, biting the skin of her collarbone, “feared you were going to turn down the offer.” His hands slipped down, cupping her mound and he grinned when her hips started grinding against his palm. “Oh, oh, keep doing it, keep grinding on me. It feels good, doesn’t it? The seam of the jeans pressed against your clit by my hand makes you go crazy, isn’t that right?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look into his. 

“You know, I thought you should’ve worn a skirt for practical reasons but this – shit,” he whispered when her moans got lower and deeper, “this is even better.” 

“I need you,” she whimpered, hands moving to try to touch him. 

“I know you do,” he cooed, “you’ve tried so hard to hold back all this time, the whole night trying to keep your hands to yourself because you just can’t help yourself, can you? Want to feel me,” he said, pressing harder against her covered pussy as she kept grinding against him, “no, no you need to feel me.” 

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, leaning closer to him, making their lips meet again in small kisses. 

“Can you do something for me?” She stopped moving for a second, confused by his request, but nodded. “Come in your panties like this,” he started explaining, tapping her hips to make her start moving again, “and then I’ll give you what you want.” 

And she did, even if it felt humiliating to come like that, grinding against his palm as if she was desperate, making a mess in her already drenched panties and barely holding back the moans. But it was all worth it when he smiled against her lips and whispered, “good girl, you are my good girl. Learning so fast, aren’t you? Making me so proud of you.” 

“Come here,” Jeno said, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. “Take your shorts and panties off.” 

“He-here?” She mumbled, panic running behind her open eyes. The cabin next to theirs couldn’t see them, the black windows shielding each crib hid them well, but it was such an exposed place anyway. 

“You heard me. Want to make you try something new. Come on, take them off and sit on my lap,” he ordered and she followed his instruction, trying to hide the stained black panties in her shorts as if he couldn’t feel the mess of her cunt as soon as she sat on his lap.

“You’re going to ride me, but I won’t get inside you.” Her face dropped, a bit because she couldn’t get how and because she just wanted to get there and finally have him, completely. But Jeno wanted to take it slow, he wanted to make her dance in the palm of his hand more, twirling around, following every single one of his words so well that he fell more and more every day. 

“Spit on your hand,” he ordered. “Like that, and now wrap it around my cock. You want it to slide perfectly between your lips, right?” Not that it was needed since her wetness was already making his cock slip against her so easily, but he loved seeing how much she obeyed him with no hesitation. He loved seeing that she would’ve done anything for him.

She nodded, doing as he told, eyes glistening because he was already so hard and it was all because of her, for her.  

“Don’t,” he stopped her when he could feel her trying to tease his cockhead against her entrance, “no fucking, remember?” 

“But why?” She huffed, pouting. 

“I want to save it for a special occasion for my special girl,” he replied before placing his hands on her naked waist and guiding her hips on top of him. “Just grind on me, remember before? Like you did with my hand?” She nodded, hand wrapping around his neck and forehead falling against his. “Do it with my cock, just like that,�� he praised, kissing her gently. “Feel how good it is? It’s big isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, so big.” 

“Imagine it inside of you, stretching so much more than my fingers. Remember my fingers? How you dripped all over them and came so easily?” She hummed, hips bucking in shame and legs shaking at the idea of feeling him inside. “No, it’s alright. I know you remember them. I bet you spend your nights using yours, imagining it was me. Your little fingers – fuck – making their way into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself hard and yet…” he moaned, throwing his head back, “nothing can come close to me.” 

“No – no. It doesn’t – mmph – feel just as good.” 

“I know. But you need time, bunny. I can’t fuck you like this, in public, on a Ferris wheel. Not for our first time. Not when I’d leave you trembling and panting even more and you would have no strength to stand on your knees.” 

She trembled in anticipation, pressing further down, making him groan. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he said. “Need to feel you more. Lift your hips more.” 

“Li-like this?” She asked, whining when she had to pull away from him to give him space to grab his cock and start to rub it up and down her wet pussy. “Oh, this is, mmh, this is weird,” she mumbled, voice breaking a bit more every time that his tip pressed over her opening but never pushed in. 

“But it feels good, right? We need to come fast; it will start moving soon again, remember? You don’t want the operator to find you like this, right?” 

“No, no, I – that’s humiliating.” 

“I know, baby. I would never make someone humiliate you. So I need you to stay like this, don’t try to slide down on me and let me rub my cock against your pretty pussy, okay?” 

“Ye – yes,” she moaned. 

Jeno moaned, rolling his head back, when he started to rub his head faster against her dripping cunt and clit, the cabin filling with wet sounds and moans they couldn’t hold back anymore, not even caring if there was somebody next to them. 

“It’s good,” she whimpered, nails digging behind him, ripping the leather protection of the seats. “I’m – I’m close,” she breathed out, voice pitched and pussy clenching around nothing when another jolt shook the wheel and it started moving again. 

“Me too, bunny. Can you come with me?” 

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” she moaned, throwing her head back when he started doing that. Jeno had no idea how he was fighting back the urge to just penetrate her right there and then with no warning, slipping past her warm walls and filling her up, fucking her hard until she was nothing but a mess. And that thought made him grit his teeth and kiss her, cum spilling all over her cunt, triggering her orgasm too at the sensation of the warm liquid making a mess on her. She had never done that with her ex-boyfriend. And this orgasm was stronger than the rest, it left her shaking, whimpering, and panting in shame, in pleasure, in whatever drug Jeno was making her take every day that passed. It was becoming more and more of an addiction, yet, she didn’t seem to get enough. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, laughing lowly, trying to catch his breath. “That was intense,” he said, smiling at her, “grab your clothes and put them on if you don’t want the whole park to see you like this, though,” he teased, handing her the discarded panties and shorts. “It would be a beautiful view,” he said, watching as she tried to stand on her wobbly legs and get back into her clothes, “but I’m pretty jealous of it.” 

And another flush of heat rushed up her body, forcing her to lower her head. 

When the attraction came to a stop they barely looked decent, but they couldn’t care.

“Are – are you still trying to win the bunny for me?” she asked, head lowered as the realization of what just happened hit her, and it was clear as the sky how experienced and used to this he was by how he was walking as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just come all of her pussy and then made her push her clothes back on, walking around in that mess. And the worst of it all was that she liked it, she liked that he left a mark on her somehow, that something of him was still on her skin. 

Jeno chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was running in her mind, finding it appealing how she would let go for a second just to go back to her usual serious and shy self in the blink of an eye. “We came here for that, right?”

He had promised her. And he kept his promises. Just like he kept his bets. But the more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, the more he couldn’t see a clear line between the bet and reality. He knew he liked the thrill, he knew he liked the desperation, but he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like her. 

Because when they reached the stuffed toys booth, it didn’t bother him that he had to pay to try to hit the target to win her that toy. He didn’t even find her supportive cheers annoying. He didn’t even mind that she kissed him as soon as – with a clear shot – he hit the target and made it fall after ten seconds of the game, winning her that so-awaited white bunny with big eyes and pink ears. 

“You’re so good at this,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping on the spot, waiting for the operator to hand him the toy. 

“I had the greatest support ever,” he smiled, handing her the plushie, smiling as she brought it close to her chest and hugged it tightly. A dream of a child coming reality after so many years. 

“Do you like it?” He asked even if he knew the answer. 

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you for winning it for me and thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered. 

“No worries, I had fun,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Should we head home? My place? How’s that sound?” 

“Amazing,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear, intertwining their hands, and walking to the car. 

She was still smiling, hiding her face behind the plushie for happiness and shame as she felt his cum drip slowly out of her. 

And Jeno was smiling too, thinking that if she finally had gotten his bunny, he had gotten his, too. 

“He’s your bunny,” he whispered close to her, “but you are mine.” 

“Your fridge is always empty,” she huffed, closing the grey door and huffing at her boyfriend that was sitting on a chair, scrolling through his phone. “How do you survive like this? How do you survive without me doing everything for you?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and glaring at him.

Jeno chuckled, placing the phone down and standing up, reaching her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know, bunny. I’m sorry. I promise next time I’ll make you find the fridge full.” 

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him away, “you know it’s a lie. You say it every time and then we would always starve if it was for you.” 

“Oh, come here,” he pouted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against his chest again. “That’s better,” he smiled, snuggling their noses together, making her laugh. “See, you can’t be mad at me.” 

“No, I can’t.” 

She really couldn’t. Especially now that they were dating for almost a month. Even if she knew so many flaws he had, she grew to love them all. She couldn’t even hate how it had to be a secret because she still had him and that was all that mattered. Actually, she enjoyed that it was a secret. 

After a few weeks of sneaking around with Jeno going to her place to see his brother and having to sneak in her room or in the bathroom for a few kisses and heated make-out sessions, this was so much better. She spent most of the time at his place, telling her family she was at her friend’s house or at the library, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. And Jeno never made Jaemin come over when his sister was at home. So everything was working out smoothly. 

This was great. It was the illusion of living together, but she hoped that soon it would’ve turned into something real. Their story was getting rather serious, in a way she never expected. 

She brought some of her things to his place so she had no problems when she stayed over. They did many things together like grocery or buying things when something broke. Jeno always found time to have at least a Saturday or Sunday evening for them to go out to restaurants, and when he couldn’t, they usually went to other types of dates in the afternoon. They even bought a matching bracelet – that Jaemin didn’t notice because he paid her even less attention now.

“You’re not picking a movie, anymore,” Jeno said, chuckling, stealing the remote from her hands and making her whine.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, “for one bad movie.” 

“One is enough,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead, making her squirm and snuggle close to him on the couch. 

But even after he picked one, they didn’t pay the movie much attention because they were too busy kissing each other. She sat on his lap, fingers in his hair while his hands cupped her ass and pushed her closer to his body. And this happened almost every time, they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but they never did more than that. Jeno wanted to wait for a special occasion. 

And that occasion arrived. One night, Jeno brought her to a restaurant out of town; a fancy place she had never been to before. 

“You picked such a beautiful place,” she said while they waited for the second course, and she looked around still amazed. That wasn’t the kind of place she used to go, and they never even went together to a similar restaurant. Experimental cuisine, beautiful, elegant design, and classical music playing in the background.

“I’d do this and more for you,” he replied, caressing her hand on the table. “And, talking about doing things together. My parents have a house out of town and they don’t use it, thought we could go there together.”

“You mean just us or with your group of friends?”

“Just us. So we can spend some time alone, no need to worry about your brother, about anything.”

She hummed, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great, you can come up with a lie, right?”

“Of course, I can,” she replied. “But, can I ask why Jaemin doesn’t have to know about us?”

“You know him, he would ever let me close to you,” he replied, shrugging. 

“But you’re his dearest friend. You are like a brother to him. I think he trusts you.”

“It’s not about trust,” he said. “It’s weird. And yeah... he knows too much about me to don’t want me near you.”

“Like? Are you trying to scare me away on our date?”

“No, no,” he stopped her right away. “But I’ve been a player most of my life, and as much as he can't stand you he wouldn’t want me to break your heart.”

“So... as long as he doesn’t know you can break it?”

“As long as he doesn’t know I can love you without him reminding me of my past,” he explained. “Hey, I love you. More than I ever loved anybody else, so can you please don’t let my past define me?”

She gulped, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little paranoid because... because nobody ever went this far with me.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling, “that’s why I wanted to take it slow, that’s why I don’t want to rush us.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She asked once they were in the car, the rest of the night proceeded smoothly as their conversation never drifted to her family again and they left the past right where it was. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t planning on making you go home anyway,” he said, smirking. “I have a small surprise at home.”

“A surprise? Is that another bunny?”

“Better.”

But when they arrived home there was nothing, not physical, at least, and she looked at him with a furrow. “There’s nothing here.”

“Mhh, it’s something you had next to you all night,” he sang, walking close to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her hair to the side, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. 

She chuckled, “is it you?”

He hummed, making her twirl in his hold. “Do you want me, bunny?”

“Don’t I have you already?”

“Yeah, but I think you still want more, don’t you?” He asked lifting her up in his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his waist and start to walk upstairs. “I can’t take your disappointed face every time we don’t go all the way.”

“You make me sound desperate,” she chuckled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Because you are,” he replied, opening his bedroom door and laying her on the bed. And he was right because she didn’t waste time kissing him and moving her hands on his body to free him of his clothes. 

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispered once they were naked, lips closing around her nipple, sucking and twisting, making her push her body closer to his. “So good, bunny. Like nobody else ever made you feel.” His mouth moved down, tracing kisses all over her abdomen and then over her mound before lapping at her clit, making her whimper and squirm under his kisses and licks. 

“No, shh, don’t move,” he whispered, pulling away from her slit. “Let me take care of you, bunny. I know he never did. But I’m not him, I’m not like anybody else.” His lips started moving on her again, sucking on her clit hard and then teasing her entrance, tasting her, feeling lightweight as his hands kept her legs spread open, fingers digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Uh,” she cried, head thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and lips gasping for air. “It’s – it’s so good.” 

He smirked against her skin, chin getting wetter with the slick that was streaming out of her as his tongue and lips moved faster on her, bringing her to the climax sooner than she wanted. 

But even if she loved the feeling of his lips, she needed more. 

“Jeno,” she mewled when he pulled away, licking his lips and cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. “Ne-need you,” she stuttered, looking into his eyes, filled with lust and need. “Please, need to feel you.”

Jeno kissed her, one hand at the side of her head keeping his body up and the other stroking his hard, thick cock. 

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned, aligning his length at her entrance and pushing into her, nails digging into his back as the never felt before stretch cut her breath. 

“Fuck,” she cried, searching for his lips, chest panting as she tried to calm down, “you’re... you’re too big.”

“No, bunny,” he reassured, caressing her cheek, hips backing away before sinking in again, “you can take me. You can take everything I give to you.”

She nodded, legs falling limper as her body trembled in his hold. 

“So good for me, bunny,” he praised, the veins of his neck popping out as he tried to hold in the moans. 

“Want to – want to hear you,” she mumbled, cupping his face. “Please, want to know I’m – fuck – making you feel – aah – good.”

And Jeno let go, groans and low moans rolling out of his parted lips as he started thrusting into her faster, making her get even wetter as she felt him reach deeper inside of her.

“You make me feel so good, baby,” he hummed, throwing his head back when her walls clenched harder around him and he knew it was just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hold it anymore. They were made for each other. Fitting so perfectly that he felt good like never before. Nobody could come close to this, to her.  

“Fa-faster,” she barely breathed out, eyes half-lidded and lungs gasping for air.

“Faster?” He smirked, tilting his head, staring at her face, getting high in the way she was whimpering so nicely every time he pushed back and forth. “Can you take me, bunny?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “Need – need to feel you more.” She had no idea how it could’ve been possible, or exactly what more did she need from him. But she needed him. She needed him to get under her, and she needed to get under him. Tattooing each other under their skins.

And Jeno gave it to her. Going faster, pulling her legs closer to him, leaning down to cage her completely making her feel small and safe. He was always going to give her everything and more. Everything that would’ve been enough to never make her want to leave. Because she was his, and he was hers. And they belonged together.

“Je-Jeno,” she cried, feeling her stomach tighten up, silently warning him that she was close.

“I’m close, too,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so good, fuck. You are too good. Come for me, bunny. Come with me.”

And her body obeyed, squirming under him, hips bucking while her eyes rolled into the back of her head and another orgasm washed over. 

“Yes, just like that,” Jeno groaned, watching her face contort and shooting his cum into her, hips slamming messily against her ass while his hand gripped her waist harder to keep her in place. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out of her and rolling at her side. “So, was it worth the wait?”

She smiled, turning to him. “You are always worth the wait.”

Jeno was... caring. Too apprehensive at times. Not that she minded all the attention but she sometimes wondered if he did too much. He insisted on picking her up when she came out of work. He always dropped her by when she went out with her friends alone. He drove her everywhere, saying that it was safer because ‘you may never know who you meet on the metro or the bus.’

But the weird thing was that one minute he was all over her, never taking his eyes off of her even for a split second, and then he was nowhere to be found, or he even got mad at her, reminding her to don’t be too touchy because nobody had to know.

Just like right now. He invited her to Haechan’s party but didn’t spare her a single glance all night but she had no intention of rotting on a sofa seat just to get back home after wasting an entire evening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno snapped, glaring at Haechan pushing him off of her.

“Hey, man,” the brown-haired replied with a smug smirk on his face, “we were dancing. Had no idea you cared about her so much?” He grinned.

“Take that grin out of your face if you don’t want me to wipe it off with a punch,” he warned, glaring at him before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the living room, walking upstairs not even caring that she was hardly following his steps.

“Jeno wait!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, pushing her inside an empty room and locking it behind them with the key, stuffing it inside his pocket. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh?”

“W-what?” She asked, chest panting for running and because she didn’t expect him to react like that. 

“Stop with that fucking act of the innocent girl,” he barked, cupping her cheek with a hand and pushing her close to the nearest wall, pressing her against it with his body. “I was right when I said you would’ve crawled to every single friend of your brother. You’re such a slut.”

“What? Don’t call me that! You know it’s not true,” she retorted, voice shaking with fear. She had never seen him like this and she couldn’t even get why he was so mad. She and Haechan were only dancing, and nobody could know that they were dating, so it wasn’t like she had a choice. 

“Oh, it’s not true?” He cooed, squeezing her face tighter. “Then why were you grinding on him?"

“I - I wasn’t,” she whispered as tears started flowing on her face.

“Oh, nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, and letting go of her face, placing his hand beside her head against the wall, “now you’re going to cry. You were all over another man and you cry.”

“You know it’s only you. I’d never leave you,” she replied, lips quivering as she looked into his eyes and found them filled with darkness. “It was… it was the heat of the moment, he asked me to dance and you weren’t there and you said to keep our distances.”

“Yeah, but I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he said, flipping her over. "Need to put into your little dumb brain that I’m the only one.”

She nodded, shivering when his hands slipped under the dress, and she shouldn’t have felt so turned on because he was finally paying her attention, because he was showing he wanted her and nobody could come close to her. But she was. It was fucked up, and yet, her knees were buckling already under his touch.

“Need you to remember that even when I’m not by your side you’re mine and mine only. This body,” he said, running his hands on her thighs and waist and then squeezing her boobs, making her groan, “is mine. You are mine. Say it,” he ordered. 

“I’m yours, always yours.” 

“That’s better,” he replied, voice still stern, and hands slipping inside her laced panties. “Oh, wet already? You want me to be mean to you, don’t you?”

“No, I – I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said, "but don’t lie to me. You’re either dripping because of him, which will make me very mad. Or...” He leaned closer, “you are a little slut that gets off to these things.”

She whimpered, feeling her knees buckle. “Don't call me like that.”

“No? You want me to call you bunny, right? Want to be my little bunny?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip when his fingers started moving on her clit. 

“To be my bunny you have to be good. And right now, you’re not. Prove to me you can be my good little bunny and not some cheap slut that lets all her brother’s friends pass her around, okay?”

“Yeah, I will prove it to you,” she said, trying to turn around but Jeno grabbed her wrists and blocked them together behind her back. 

“You’re not moving from here,” he ordered. “And be thankful I brought you here and not in the bathroom. Come here, on the desk,” he ordered, guiding her to walk over to the white desk at the side of the room. 

“Is – is this his bedroom?” She asked, looking around, seeing it was too decorated to be a guest room. 

“Yeah, is that a problem? Don’t you want to leave him a little gift of something he will never have?” 

“Je – Jeno you don’t need to be jealous, I-” 

“Shut up,” he groaned, ripping her panties and spreading her legs more. “You think you know him more than I do? You think I don’t know what he looks like when he wants to fuck someone?” 

She rolled her head back when he slipped one finger into her. “I wouldn’t have – fuck – I wouldn’t have let him.” 

Jeno snickered bitterly. “I’m not sure about it,” he replied, kissing her roughly and pushing another finger inside. “Your ass was pressing so much against his cock. Think I didn’t see it? Think I’m stupid? He was hard, wasn’t he? And you loved it,” he mocked, adding a third finger making her moan louder. “Because you love attention, you live for attention. You seek it. You crawled to me because you needed attention so how can I trust you? Tell me? How can I trust you with other men?” 

“I – I would never cheat on you,” she replied, trying to steady her breath and keep up with him instead of getting lost in the way his fingers made her feel. “If I could – fuck – dance with you in public, I – I would, I would only – fuck – do it with you.” 

“So you’re going to do it again just because I’m not by your side? Just because I don’t carry you around with a leash like a fucking dog?” He replied, stilling his fingers inside of her and tilting his head to the side. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, trying to close her legs but he stopped her in her tracks lifting a finger and pushing her hips down against the desk. “Jeno, please,” she begged. “I won’t go to parties anymore, okay? I can stay at home, I never liked them anyway.” 

“And you think that’s enough?” He asked, picking up the movements inside her, making her breath shake and her nails dig in his arms.

“Then what more can I do for you?” She asked, tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Disappointing him was the last thing she wanted to do. 

“Don’t fucking cry,” he growled, leaning closer to her but pulling his fingers out of her. “I hate it when you cry. I hate when you do dumb things first without thinking about the consequences and then do this, play the victim.” 

“I just – I don’t want to upset you or hurt you. I don’t like fighting with you.” 

“Then use your brain?” He said, tapping his fingers on her mouth and pushing them down her throat. “The only time you’re not supposed to think about a thing is when I’m fucking you, got it?” 

She nodded, trying to kiss him back when he pulled his fingers out. “Can you forgive me? I’m sorry.” 

“Maybe, I’ll forgive you if you don’t disappoint me another time,” he said, letting go of her face. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your good girl,” she replied, moving toward the edge of the desk to feel him more. 

“Then bend over,” he ordered, waiting for her to follow his orders. “See, you can be good when you want to.” 

She was about to reply but then pursed her lips together, not wanting to get him mad even more. If she liked it when he got rougher, she still didn’t want to fight or make him truly upset.  

“This ass,” he said, hand slapping her ass cheek hard, making her jolt, “is mine. Got it?”

“Ye-yes.”

“This pussy,” another slap, but this time on her pussy, “is mine.”

“Yours.”

“And you,” another smack on her other ass cheek, “are mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn.

“Now be a good girl,” he said, rubbing the skin of her ass, “and part your legs more.”

“I wanted to fuck your mouth but I need to feel you, need to fuck you hard and make you walk out of here with – fuck,” he groaned, pushing inside of her wet cunt, “make you walk out of here with shaky legs and my cum dripping out of you.”

Her nails scraped against the hard wood under her, head rolling back at the stretch of his cock. 

“Yeah, you like that? That was what you wanted, shit,” he moaned, “Wanted me to pay you attention so you got on my nerves to get this. You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?” He asked. “Answer me,” he groaned, pulling her flush against his chest and leaving a light tap against her cheek. 

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“But if you – fuck – want me to be rough with you, you just have to fucking ask. But noo,” he cooed, a deep laugh rolling out of his chest. “It’s better to go around and act like a slut, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” she breathed out. 

He snorted. “And you know, if I only didn’t care so much about you I’d let him fuck you. I’d love to see the – fuck – the disappointed look on your face," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing it before kissing her hard. “Because he can’t fuck you like I do.”

“I – I know," she moaned, feeling her knees shake. 

“Nobody can fuck you like I do,” he whispered against her ear. “Say it,” he ordered, “say that nobody, nobody, will ever make you feel as good as I do.”

She threw her head back, ass arching against him, pleasure making her feel dizzy as she struggled to make the words come out of her mouth. “No - nobody will ever make me – mmh – nobody will make me feel as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You feel good,” she moaned, head falling forward, not really sure she could last longer. “No,” she whined when he pulled out. 

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Want you to look into my eyes while I break you.”

She stumbled on her heels, hardly turning around and sitting back on the desk and in a second Jeno was inside her again, thrusting into her mercilessly, knocking the breath out of her lungs. 

“You make me so fucking mad,” he groaned, kissing her roughly. “I wanted to get home and – shit – fuck you gently all night and here we are,” he said, cupping her face, “we have a party to get back to and we look like a mess all because you never know when to stop.” 

“Too much," she mumbled, looking into his eyes, hips shaking. 

“No, you can take it, you wanted this and you will take this. I know you’re close, you’re – fuck – squeezing me.”

“Play with your clit,” he ordered. “And come for me while you look into my eyes.” 

“Y-yes,” she replied, sliding her hand between their bodies and starting to move her fingers on her clit, wanting to roll her head back but forcing herself to keep it up and stare at him, feeling the orgasm come. 

“Shit, yes,” Jeno moaned. “Just like that. Good girl, my good bunny,” he praised, kissing her. "Yeah, that was what you wanted. And keep bein’ my good bunny and come,” he ordered, giving one last thrust that pushed her over the edge. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, locking her legs around his waist and digging the nails of the hand around his arm into his skin.

“God,” he groaned. “Mine. All mine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, meeting his lips in a soft kiss again, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno leaned his forehead against hers as they both caught their breaths and came down from the high. “I’m all you ever wanted," he whispered. “All your life you wanted me. And now you have me, bunny. You have me right here, so don’t you dare leave me.” 

She wasn’t supposed to be there, eavesdropping a conversation about her that she wasn’t supposed to hear. But when she come back from work, she opened the front door and heard Jeno and his friends talk in the kitchen, surely Jaemin wasn’t there, or there was no way they would have that conversation. But she didn’t do it on purpose and she had no idea if it was better like this or living in a lie. 

‘You didn’t win the bet, technically. It was two months and you started dating her after three.’ Haechan complained. 

‘Yeah, but I got to her after one week, I think I win.’ Jeno replied and even if she couldn’t see his face, she knew there was a smug smirk on his face. 

‘I mean, the bet involved both fucking with her and dating her so I think he’s right.’ Jisung chimed.

‘And as I told you she fell on my feet. She was literally begging for my attention so my point was proved.’ Jeno 

She felt her eyes flood with tears and ran away with the intention to confront him at home. Receiving more humiliation in front of his friends was the last thing she wanted. 

‘God, I hate you, man, Fine. Here’s the money.’ 

Jeno scoffed. ‘I don’t want the money,’ he replied. ‘I think I found a better prize.’

“Honey,” Jeno said, opening the door of his place. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home, why’s your car in the driveway?” 

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, standing in front of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him. 

“Oh, what happened? We didn’t have a date, right?” He asked, trying to guess why she was mad. “And surely today is not your birthday.” 

She took a step forward and slapped him, making him flinch and stare at her with a surprised expression. 

“You are an asshole!” She screamed. “You played me for a fucking bet. You – you lied to me all these months! Five months of lies and games you played for some money. Is this all I am to you? A joke? A bar talk with your stupid friends? How much do they know about me? Did you have fun making fun of my innocence? Or was it funnier to laugh about how much I trusted you and let you do things I would’ve never done before?” 

“Hey, hey,” he said, trying to reach for her but she pulled away, glaring at him, making him understand that if he dared to touch her she was going to slap him again. “You are not a joke for me. And they don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t want anybody else to know so much about you, to get so deep under your skin. Everything that we did, everything you told me, had been just between me and you.”

“I heard you,” she retorted. “I’m not dumb, I know what I heard. I heard how hard you were trying to convince them that you were right and you won! All your daddy’s money and you still need to win more by betting on me!”

“I didn’t want the money,” he explained, walking closer to her again. “Can you let me explain?” 

“No, you’ve got nothing to explain. There’s nothing you can say that will,” she stopped, lowering her head and sniffling lowly, running the palm of her hand under her nose. “Nothing you can say will make you come out of this innocent,” she whispered, feeling new tears wet her face. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. She wanted him too much for this to end up so badly.

“Does it matter why I got closer to you? Do you really want a stupid bet to come between us?” He asked, trying to meet her eyes but her head was still reclined, facing the floor of his living room and her hair hid her face. 

“It’s not a stupid bet. It’s me. It’s us,” she replied with her voice full of anger. “And I won’t let you get away with this. I will tell everything to Jaemin. I will tell him how his best friend, well friends, played his sister. I will tell him how you used me all this time and you will see,” she said, finding the courage to look up at him, but when she met his eyes she couldn’t find fear. Jeno was unfazed, staring at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Honey, do you hear yourself?” Jeno chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Do you really think he would believe you? His annoying, pathetic little sister who drooled over me for ages. And careful, that is what he thinks about you.”

Her mouth hung open, not expecting him to say something like that. “I didn’t drool over you,” she retorted, trying to push in the back of her mind the fact that deep down not even Jaemin cared about her. That truly she was way lonelier than she thought. 

“Shh, don’t cry,” he said, walking to her, caressing her cheek now that she let down her guard, shoulders dropping and heart crumbling into pieces. “You know you do. You wanted me so badly for all this time so… what’s different now?”

“You – you, this is all a game for you. You bet on me. You think nobody wants me.”

“Did I ever say that? No. But let’s be real, you’re 21 and nobody ever looked at you the way I did. All the things I did, I did them for you,” he replied, thumb brushing on her burning wet cheek. “I made you feel good, so why would you be mad at me? I never said I loved you when we started. I never told you that when I didn’t truly believe it.” 

“But you knew I… you knew! You knew I would’ve done anything for you,” she screamed, shaking harder in his hold, feeling both comfort and coldness in it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, how he was the main reason for her pain and yet the main reason for her comfort.

“And? I knew how dedicated you are, so what’s the problem?”

“I… I… you know it’s not fair,” she whispered, looking down again, not bearing to his face. His handsome, gentle face that fooled her for so long. “You know that’s one of the worst things you could ever do.”

“Is it?” 

“Yes. And I’ll tell my brother and you will see. You won’t make me change my mind.” 

Jeno grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. “You won’t tell him anything. Do you really want to humiliate yourself? What are you going to do? Tell him that you crawled to me on your knees because you needed someone to teach you about sex? You remember right why it all started? Imagine how he would feel knowing that you go around asking all his friends to fuck you.”

Her eyes drifted on his face. “I don’t go around doing that,” she said, tears streaming down her face. 

“Maybe…” he replied, wanting to bring up the way she was grinding on Haechan even if they were together, but deciding to don’t more fuel to the fire. “But if I would’ve said no, you would’ve. Isn’t this better for everybody? Your brother doesn’t know, and we still have each other.”

“I don’t want to have you,” she lied, meeting his eyes, scaring herself because how could he be so impassive? How could there not be a trace of emotions? Did he care or not? 

“No? Now that you finally got me, you don’t want me anymore?” 

“No – not like this,” she replied, trying to stop the sobs and don’t look even more like a mess. The mess he made. “You – you are a completely different person, you – you are not who I thought you were.”

“But I am me. You loved me all these months, and trust me, that was the real me. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why would you push me away, bunny?”

“Do-don’t call me bunny,” she said, glaring at him.

“But you love it so much, don’t you? Do you still have the bunny I won for you? Remember it? I can give you so much more than that.”

“I – I need you to love me, I don’t need this. I don’t need toys. I don’t need lies. You hurt me.” 

“And I’m sorry, alright? I never lied to you when it came to us. I would’ve broke us off if I truly didn’t like you.” 

“Yeah but I, I’m not sure I want you anymore,” she said, slipping out of his hold and grabbing her purse and jacket from the couch. “We – we need a break.” 

And Jeno watched her go, opening the door of his house and closing it behind. He didn’t cry, he didn’t run after her, he didn’t try to stop her. 

He knew she was going to come back to her. 

Crawling, just like she did the first time. 

She was lost. Everybody around her noticed that. Weird, she thought, that for once they were paying attention to her. But she couldn’t tell the truth, she shrugged their oppressions off, pretending that it was just life, work and lack of sleep.

And that wasn’t a total lie. She had spent sleepless nights up, Jeno’s ghost haunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge every night. Because if during the day she could pretend and try to distract herself, at night she couldn’t. 

Jeno was everywhere. He was like her shadow, walking behind her, a cold wind blowing around her, covering her with shivers. He was imprinted on her body, his fingerprints burning up on her skin, leaving scars that weren’t physical, scars she couldn’t mend or sew. Scars he left open, bleeding, and poured with salt. Scars only he could heal. And only he could make. 

And she didn’t know what to do. If it was better to go back to him, let him heal her pain and hope he wasn’t going to scar her again or leave immediately. Admit to herself that certain things just weren’t meant to happen and let him go, slowly, bleeding some more, but let him go. 

And it took her two weeks to make up her mind and take the most painful decision of her life. 

So when she found herself at his front door she felt every second pass, slowly, prolonging that torture more. 

“Coming.” She could hear his muffled voice from the other side of the door and wanted to leave, not sure that after seeing his face she would’ve carried through. But she was there, and when she took the first step back, it was already too late. “Oh, you didn’t warn you were going to pass by,” he said, surprised of seeing her there. 

She hummed, “No, it was a last-minute decision. Can I come in? Or are you already busy with somebody else?” 

Jeno sighed but moved to the side. “I told you, I love you. I would never move on so easily.”

She shrugged, before turning around again. “Actually it won’t take long, so you can go back to what you were doing,” she said, making Jeno furrow. 

She came back, but he already suspected she didn’t come back how he wanted. 

“I thought about it a lot,” she started saying, fingers playing with a loose thread of her sweater but she was forcing herself to look at him. “I thought about us a lot and I realized I can’t do this. I can’t have you, not like this, not after everything.”

Jeno blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You want to break up with me?” He asked to make sure that was the point she was making. 

“Yes,” she replied. “It pains me a lot but… I need to put me first. I am worthy unlike all of you think.” 

Jeno hummed, rubbing his chin and wetting his lip. “You are, you sure are. But… you know nobody will make you feel as good as I made you feel, right?” 

She didn’t answer. She feared nobody was going to make her feel what he made her feel, but that couldn’t be possible, right? There were so many people in the world, he couldn’t be the only one for her. 

“Nobody will ever know you as deeply as I know you.”

No answer again, just broken eyes looking into each other. 

“Do you really want to erase all of these years?”

She furrowed at his words, chuckling bitterly, “You never paid attention to me.” 

“Are you sure? Just because I was looking at you from the sidelines, silently waiting for the moment to have you? We love in such a different way you think I don’t love you. How could you be so full of yourself thinking that your way of loving is the only right one?” 

“I don’t think my way of loving is the only right one I… you… you never loved me,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench because she had to repeat it to herself every night and doing it again, reminding herself that he never loved her but only played her like a puppet on a string, brought her to her knees, and made her feel worthless. It proved once again that everybody was right, that she was nothing special, nothing more but a sideshow for everybody to buy a ticket and laugh at her goofiness and futility.

“Here you go, doing this again. Do I have to get on my knees to tell you I love you?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. 

“No, there’s no –”

“No, I’ll do it,” he stopped her. “Here I am, on my knees for you.”

She clenched her fists and wanted to slap him again for missing the point so many times. “You bet on me!” She replied, screaming at his face. 

“That’s so irrelevant,” he replied, keeping up with her angry gaze, not even flinching.  

“No, it’s not. And you’re lucky I didn’t say a thing to Jaemin –” 

“Shut up,” he stopped her, standing up once again, voice harsh before it turned sweet and caring again, “I thought we were clear about not telling anything to him, right?”

“No,” she fought back. “I won’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and stopped her, a hand around her cheek and another around her waist. “Now you stop and listen to me,” he groaned, “alright, darling?” She hummed, tears running down her face again, and hated the way the only thing her mind could think was how much she had missed the feeling of being in his arms. 

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, I love you and it doesn’t matter if it took a bet to get it. I do. And I want you to put it in your mind. Please, let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck, making her shiver and push him back. She couldn’t fall, not again, not now that his games were all revealed. “Shh, shh, don’t fight it. Don’t fight me,” he rasped. “Remember how you were always all over me? What changed now?”

“You are not who I fell in love with,” she managed to say, shivering and squirming under him, feeling that the power he had over her was once again making her walls fall down. 

“Just let me prove it to you, let me prove you it’s always me, the only one you love so much. Because you love me, right?” He cooed, caressing her cheek, and wiping away the black rivers of mascara on her face. “I know you still love me. I know your heart cannot beat with me out of your life.”

She didn’t answer but only hummed, shivering when his hand reached the small of her back and pulled her closer. Tired, she felt tired. And once again, he was the only one keeping her up on her feet. He was the only one that didn’t let her fall. But she wondered if it was because he truly cared, or if he needed to control her. If this sense of comfort was also fake like everything else. But her mind couldn’t tell it, not now at least, and she only hoped that when she did, it wouldn’t have been too late. 

“You don’t want me to leave you. You cannot live without me. Remember?” He whispered, caressing her face gently, reaching her hair, caressing her scalp, fingers moving in circles just like she liked, in the same way that would always make her fall asleep with her head on his lap, or against his shoulder. “You told me, whispered it to me while laying on my chest, fantasizing about our future together.” 

“That – that was before…” she sniffled, trying to fight it off, trying to grasp onto what was left of sanity, screaming to the small part of her that wasn’t completely devoted to him to please wake her up and make her get out of there. But there was nothing left of her that wasn’t madly, deeply, and completely in love with him, lost for him, devoted, obsessed with the feelings he brought along. Nothing of her didn’t scream Jeno anymore. She was his. Every inch of her skin. Every cell of her blood. Every thought in her mind, about him. 

And he knew it. Because he truly had her imprinted in the back of his mind. He had studied her for so long, silently, without making her notice. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. He knew how neglected she was and how she needed to be valued, loved, praised, and cherished. And he was going to do it. If she let him, he was going to give her everything and more. 

“But I’m still here,” he smiled, and then he kissed her as his hands moved to gently cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. “See, there still are my lips on yours,” and then he moved down, “and on your neck… right here,” he sucked. “Right here, bunny, where it makes you shiver so much under me.” And her body trembled in his hold as if it was a command, something natural starting from her brain as soon as his lips moved, like a magic spell.

“Yeah, you know nobody else will know how much you love being kissed there,” he hummed, snuggling his nose against her skin. “Or touched here,” he said while his hand moved under her sweater and brushed against the skin of her hips.  

“Jeno, we – you need to stop,” she shook her head, trying to stop him once again. To stop herself from falling into the wolf trap. 

“Do I? Does your body want to?” 

“I don’t care what my body wants. I know this is wrong.” 

“How is this wrong?” He asked, pulling his hand out of her sweater, but still keeping the other on her cheek, caressing softly. “It’s us, bunny. It will always be us.” 

She swallowed hard, trying to understand if he was lying or if he was being honest, but she couldn’t get it. She had never been good at reading him and he had played her so many times she had no idea if she could trust him. But what was he gaining from this? Why was he fighting so hard to keep her when he could’ve had anybody else? Why was he still trying to keep her with him if the bet was done? Sure, that was wrong, the worst thing he could’ve ever done but it was in the past. He grew to love her. He loved her. Lee Jeno loved her. And he was doing everything to prove it to her. 

“Do you want it to be only us, bunny? I need to hear you say you want me to show you how much I love you.”

“Ye – yes,” she replied. “Want it to be only us.”

And she fell. She had thrown herself out from the tenth floor of a building with no parachute and didn’t even realize it yet, and by the time she would’ve opened her eyes and realized what she had done, it would’ve been too late, too close to the ground, too close to crushing down. Her fear of the Ferris wheel would’ve been her reality. 

They were once again in an amusement park, going round and round, running after fantasies, marking each other, biting off pieces, bleeding. While the Ferris Wheel kept falling but from higher, much higher than where they were before, and death, even if by his side, wouldn’t have been sweeter and tragically romantic. And while meeting her tragic faith, the only thing she could hope for was to never open her eyes, to never realize the rose-colored glasses carnival Jeno locked her into, but to pretend, and pretend… and pretend until there was nothing left to do, until her sad destiny would’ve welcomed her and lulled her with the ideal of a love story that was only in her mind. 

“I love you so much,” he kept whispering next to her ear while he had her body pressed under his, hands intertwined together over her head, chest pressed against her back, hips thrusting against hers, lips kissing the blades of her shoulders, trying to go deeper under her skin because if only he could’ve, he would’ve. “I love you and I want you to never forget it.” 

And all she could do was hum and moan under his expert hands that played her like a violin. “I – I missed you,” she cried out, letting go of a confession she couldn’t keep in anymore as another orgasm rushed over her body. 

“I know,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t – fuck – be without me.” 

“I – it’s getting too much,” she whimpered, pressing her head against the pillows of his bed. “You feel too good,” she wept, holding his hands tighter, feeling her heart burn up when he started to whisper again how much he loved her, how much he needed her. 

“We fit so well, bunny,” he whispered, pulling out and turning her over, slipping into her again, holding her limp, tired body in his arms as he picked up his rhythm again. “We are made for each other,” he said, caressing her wet cheek. “So don’t ever let anything – fuck – come between us. Not the bet,” he groaned, feeling another orgasm approach them, “not your brother. Not another man. Nothing and nobody, fuck.”

She hummed, lazily blinking, eyes barely adjusting to see his face, and smiled. She smiled because that felt like heaven. She smiled because Jeno looked like an angel. She smiled because after being a loser for her entire life, there was a small patch of paradise reserved even for her. “Just us,” she whispered. 

And by the time they came together she had no more strength to keep her eyes open, even less to talk, but there was nothing more to say. She had nothing more to say, not for now, at least. Her wounds were healed.

So she let go in his arms, drunk in his scent and warmth, heart beating with the hope of a better future. A hope that was fueled by a reality that was all distorted. And in her dreams, she couldn’t hear him, but he would’ve made sure to remind her of that promise every day. 

Jeno turned around, eyes studying her relaxed face, fingers grazing her cheeks, moving her hair out of her beautiful face, a grin creeping on his face as he leaned down to kiss her parted lips. 

“It will always be us, bunny,” he promised. “Always.” 

I hope you liked it, please leave feedback and let me know with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ For more support consider donating.

Part 2: shattered glasses

#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #jeno angst #lee jeno smut #lee jeno angst #jeno scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream scenarios #requests

[mackjlee9]

SingleFather!Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Fluff]

Warning; set a year after infinite darkness, mentions of cancer, mentions of death.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil ID

Hearing his phone ring was the last thing he expected when he got out of the shower ready for bed. A call so late at night only meant another mission. He had just come back less than two hours ago, can't he rest for a little bit longer?

(M/n) sighed as his phone continued ringing and he picked it up, leaving the speaker while he got dressed, ready to go out, not realizing who was calling.

"(M/n), I need your help," he blinked and halted his movements, his jeans pulled up to his hips but still undone.

"Leon?" He asked while grabbing his phone, realizing that yeah, it was Leon the one who was calling him, "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

(M/n) grabbed his black shirt, and began buttoning it up, fixing his jeans when he was done.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just-" he heard ruffling on the side of the call, followed by a door closing and Leon's deep sigh, "I got called on another mission and I... I didn't know who to call other than you, but-" now he was rambling.

"Leon, it's alright, that's what friends are for, right?" He didn't wait for a response from Leon, he continued talking, "What do you need?" (M/n) sat on the bed and put on his socks, reaching for his combat boots and tying them.

"Yeah, you're right, uh..." Leon took a deep breath and (M/n) grab his phone, walking out of his room, "Something happened and I can't leave the house alone so I wanted to ask if you... Could stay over till I come back?" (M/n) frowned and grabbed the duffel bag he always had ready to go, something he learned he needed to have with the course of the years.

Leon heard the clinking sound (M/n)'s keys made and he sighed, "Sure, no problem, I'll be there in ten minutes-" he walked out of the house when he made sure every light was turned off, and walked to his motorcycle, "Maybe five, actually," he said with a chuckle when he realized just how late it was, everything was quiet, "See ya, Lee."

Followed by a 'see you in a few', they hung up and (M/n) secured the duffle bag strap across his chest, put on his helmet, and started the engine.

//////

The ride to Leon's house was roughly five minutes long, and there he was. (M/n) parked his bike in the garage, where Leon was waiting for him, his own duffel bag next to his red Ducati. He got off his bike and was immediately hugged by Leon, catching him off-guard and making his heart pound like crazy in his chest.

"Thank you, (M/n), I know you just back from a mission yourself, and I'm suddenly asking you to stay at my house-," (M/n) held Leon's shoulder, making him make eye contact with his (e/c) eyes.

"Hey, I've told you time and time before, Lee, I'll be here whenever you need me, always," Leon slowly calmed himself, and nodded with a small smile on his face, placing his hands on (M/n)'s wrist as he released his grip, "Now... Did you get a puppy or something?"

Oh, maybe I shouldn't have said that, Leon looked conflicted again, looking away nervously and biting his bottom lip. His blue eyes looked into (M/n)'s who was confused once again, and after a few seconds he sighed in defeat, "It's more complicated than that, (M/n). Come with me..."

Frowning slightly, (M/n) followed Leon inside his house, walking through the kitchen and to the living room, where he stopped when Leon did, glancing back at him for a moment.

"Drew, come here, please," he called loud enough and sighed. Both of them waited, but (M/n) wasn't expecting to see a little boy. Not only that, he was an exact replica of Leon himself, only... As a kid. The only significant difference was that Drew had light brown colored eyes, they were almost golden.

It didn't take long for (M/n) to put two and two together.

"Drew, this is (M/n)," The sound of Leon saying his name brought him back to reality, and he showed a small smile at the boy, waving his hand at him, watching him do the same with a smile of his own, showing the faint dimples on his cheeks, "He's a close friend of mine, and he'll take care of you while I'm gone."

"Nice to meet you, sir," his cute voice melted (M/n)'s heart, and he found himself smiling more at him.

"Well, it's nice to meet you too, Drew," the little boy giggled and hugged Leon's leg, hiding behind him and pulling on his jeans. Leon looked down at him, and watched Drew making grabby hands at him, he smiled and leaned down to pick the boy up in his arms.

"You're sleepy?" Drew yawned with a nod and reach his hand up to scratch his eyes, Leon looked at (M/n) who was just silently looking at them, a shine in his eyes that made Leon blush and glance back at his son, "Okay, let's get you to bed, then."

While waiting for Leon to come back, (M/n) sat down on the couch and tried to analyze the situation the best he could with no information whatsoever. He couldn't interrogate Leon about this and he didn't want to, but he couldn't help but remember how Leon had told him that he's only had one serious relationship in his life.

Out of peripheral vision, he saw Leon walking back to the living room and he stood up, "Lee," well, now he couldn't leave without telling (M/n) about this, "So... What's the story?"

Leon checked his watch, he had twenty minutes to spare before he absolutely had to leave. He sighed and beckoned him to sit down on the couch together, taking a deep breath before proceeding to tell (M/n) everything that had happened while he was out on his vacation.

//////

Leon had walked into this cozy and comfy-looking café, he had been walking around the beautiful and calm town, and he was getting quite hungry, and well, the desserts on display were everything he needed to convince himself to walk in.

He quickly order what caught his eye, along with a black coffee, and sat down on the farthest seat available, completely out of habit. While he waited for his order to arrive or get called to get it, he checked his phone for a while, just to make sure he didn't get any new mission like it always happens when he's out on vacation.

"Uhm... Excuse me?" He got pulled out of his trance, looking up and making eye contact with a woman, he blinked a few times, confused. He knew this woman.

"Mikayla?" He mumbled, watching how she showed him a weak smile and nodded, taking a few breathes and feeling her legs trembling, "Oh, sit down," Leon stood up from his seat to help her, watching her trying to smile at him but groaning in response, "I guess it would be impolite of I ask you what's wrong."

She laugh a bit, getting comfortable in her seat.

"I was gonna tell you anyway," she tried to make light of the situation, which did work for a moment, and then she tried to formulate her next sentence, "Leon, I... I have cancer," he was left speechless, and it was the only appropriate thing he could do, "It's terminal and, I'm on the last stretch," she chuckled with tears in her once bright golden eyes, "And I have to confess something to you..."

Leon reached for her hand, gently wrapping his warm hands around her cold ones, trying to give her some reassurance, "What is it?"

Mikayla's eyes filled with tears as she stared into Leon's blue ones, filled with concern.

"You have a son."

Unable to understand this new information, Leon sputtered, "Are you sure... He's mine?"

The woman smiled, understanding why he would be skeptical of this claim, so she looked around in her wallet for a picture of her son. Their son. Leon couldn't deny it the moment he saw the picture, he looked just like him when he was a kid.

"He turned four a few days ago," the memories of the night they met flashed through his mind. They had a passing romance back in 2003 and they agreed on breaking it up when he had to leave back home, if only he had kept in contact with her-, "Don't blame yourself, Leon, I knew about it before you left, and... I couldn't tell you."

Leon took a deep breath, still staring at the photo in his hand, shortly after handing it back to Mikayla.

"There's something else, isn't there?" She nodded and took a deep breath, proceeding to explain everything to him.

//////

"She was in her last month of life, and she didn't have anyone to take care of Drew, so... She asked me if I could take care of him after she dies, and..." Leon stopped playing with his fingers to look up at (M/n), who had been listening in complete silence, "I wasn't gonna let him go through what I went through when my parents died, I couldn't do that to him."

(M/n) wrapped his arm around Leon's shoulder, squeezing it to reassure him that everything was okay.

"I'm just surprised you didn't call me earlier, I could've helped," Leon glanced up at (M/n), shaking his head slightly and leaning closer to rest his head on his shoulder, his nose gracing (M/n)'s neck.

"I meant to tell you sooner, but..." His hands gripped (M/n)'s shirt tightly, making the (h/c) haired male worry, reaching his hand to gently hold Leon's face, making him look up at him, "I didn't know how to, sorry, (M/n)."

It was hard to resist the urge to kiss Leon right then and there, but he managed, breaking their eye contact by messing his brown locks with a chuckle, hearing him groan and push away from him.

Leon was about to complain about it, but he saw (M/n) standing up and walking to the door, and he was remained that he had to leave for who knows how long.

"Come on, Superman, you have a city to save, don't you?" Leon chuckled at the nickname, walking to the door as well, grabbing his keys.

"Who're you calling Superman?" Leon opened the door and was about to step out, when he felt (M/n)'s arms wrapping around his waist from behind, the touch making his skin feel like it was on fire. He stayed silent and completely still, feeling (M/n) nuzzling on his neck and taking a few deep breaths, "(M/n)?"

"Take care of yourself, Lee. Please."

There was something else in his words, something that meant more than what he said, something that made Leon's heart beat faster inside his chest. (M/n) gave one last tight squeeze before letting him go. Leon turned around, thanking the cool air of the night helping him hide the pink color on his face.

"I always do."

Leon couldn't hold himself back, taking a step forward and hugging (M/n). They stayed like that for a few minutes until Leon's phone started ringing.

"Duty calls, eh?" They pulled back while Leon nodded, smiling at (M/n), muttering an 'I'll be back soon' before running to his bike and pulling it out of the garage along with his bag, watching the door close down slowly.

(M/n) waved Leon goodbye as he got on his bike, the engine coming to life, and securing his helmet on his head, waving back before driving away.

Walking back inside once the bike disappeared in the horizon, (M/n) turned off the lights and slowly walked to the couch, making a quick bed with the cushions, and laying down on it. His eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness, and he found himself staring at nothing in particular, lost in thought.

"How soon can soon be?"

#leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #re x male reader #re x reader #infinite darkness leon #id!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #male reader #x reader #reader insert #.mackjlee9 writes

[wongyuseokie]

Ruby Lips | l.j.h

Summary: Your boyfriend looks incredibly hot while working and you can’t help but get distracted. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff |  ♕ smut |  ♥ completed works 

Word Count:  709 words

Pairings: Lee Jihoon x Female Reader 

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: PWP, Established relationship  

Content Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader tries to distract Jihoon, mentions of red lingerie. Honestly, minimal plot because all I can think about with Jihoon is a good ol’ romp in the studio. Smut Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving).Cum swallowing, deep throating.  Semi-public sexual behaviours, they fool around in his studio. Praise kink. Name-calling (he calls her kitten)

Authors Note 1: Thank you, my lovely @the-boy-meets-evil, for beta'ing this fic for me!! 💕 Love you dearly 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations Tagging: @baljinciaga, @angelwoozi & @onlymingyus because it's Jihoon 💕 Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Babe.” 

“Y/N.” 

“I’m hungry,” you complained. 

“Ten more minutes,” your boyfriend replied. 

“Jihoon, you said that thirty minutes ago, ” you pointed out. While you were complaining, there was no real anger in your voice. You loved watching your boyfriend work. It was incredible watching him be so passionate about his music and his craft, frankly speaking. It was also very arousing.  

“Jihoon, I even wore something special for you,” you said playfully as you got up from the couch and inched towards your boyfriend, opting to sit on his lap. You smiled as he wrapped one arm around your waist, and his hand rested on the swell of your ass. 

“Hi, kitten,” Jihoon greeted, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“God, I love when you call me that,” you noted, almost moaning. 

“I know. I’m pretty sure if I were inside you, you’d be clenching,” Jihoon teased, making you scoff at the accuracy. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. 

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Jihoon said, making you squirm in his lap. “Now, what did you wear for me?” 

You moved your face away to stare at him. 

Deliberately, you pulled off your hoodie–well, his hoodie–and Jihoon’s eyes widened as he took in the red lace bra. 

“Oh, you play dirty,” Jihoon whined, and you shrugged. 

“I thought you liked the colour. You sang about it,” you joked. “Do you want to see the panties?” 

You didn’t wait for an answer as you moved in his lap and pushed your leggings down a bit to expose the red lace. 

“Shit, these are red, too,” Jihoon said with a smirk that made you grin.

“You like?” 

“Very much.”Jihoon sighed because his will was frayed. “Ten more minutes, kitten, and then we can eat,” you shrugged and leaned forward to kiss him. You latched your lips onto his neck and sucked, sure to leave a mark and just as sure to run your tongue over it after. You couldn’t do it very often and had to be careful, so you took great pride in the marks tonight. You knew that you’d get shit from him later, but the way he was bucking his hips, you knew he liked every second of it. 

“Kitten,” Jihoon warned with no real power in his voice. “Now, you, my darling, are the reason I have to wear a turtleneck for some time. How will you make it up to me?” 

“Easy, I’ll take care of you,” you said as you got off his lap and sank to your knees in front of him. You ran your hands along his thighs and sighed.

“Fuck, you’re getting so fucking buff.” 

“Problem?” Jihoon asked as you traced his muscles.

“Nope.” 

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed as he laced his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer to his hardened length. The outline of his cock was so painfully prominent through his boxers. 

“Let me taste you?” You asked with a smile and batted your eyelashes at Jihoon. His nod was lazy.

“Good girl,” Jihoon said, and you smiled at him. 

You moved quickly, pulled his stiff cock out of his boxers and immediately placed your mouth on his length. 

“Oh fuck, good girl,” Jihoon groaned as you wrapped your lips around the thick head of his cock, moaning as you tasted him. You twirled your tongue around the tip of his cock. Even though you knew you didn’t have much time, you slowly licked up his length before you took it into your mouth and sucked hard. “Fucking hell,” Jihoon groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. Jihoon moved to thread his hands in your hair, making you slightly choke on his length. 

“Good girl, can I fuck your throat?” Jihoon asked, and you tapped his thigh, letting him know it was okay. Jihoon slowly started to move, allowing his cock to thrust in and out of your mouth. 

“Fucking hell,” Jihoon cursed as you hollowed your cheeks and allowed yourself to take more of his length in your mouth.

“Fucking hell, I’m so close, kitten,” Jihoon moaned as his movements got sloppier, and you kept taking in as much of him as you could until you heard a throaty groan, and seconds later, you felt his warmth release into your mouth. You swallowed and sat back with a smirk. 

“Ten more minutes, right?” You asked as you wiped your lips. 

“I thought you were hungry?” Jihoon asked breathlessly. 

“Not anymore.”

#seventeen #woozi #jihoon #seventeen smut #svthub #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #indigo writes: jihoon

[talktonana]

dirty dancing. (teaser)

pairing: idol!jaemin x soloist!fem!reader

genre: suggestive *cough cough* maybe nearing smut, idol!au, strangers/colleagues to lovers, fluff (if you look reallllll closely), is this slow burn?

warnings: suggestive (obv), lots of grinding, sexy dancing, lots of close calls, boners, profanity, sexualisation of idols, the kpop industry in general, lee soo man

✧    ﹒     ♡       ⁺      ៹    ﹒       ♡    ﹒       ✧      ₊

SUMMARY.

When your creative director suggests you do a sexy concept for your next comeback, you don't think you'd have to come face to face with the one and only NA JAEMIN. I mean, how often do you get the opportunity to perform with one of NCT's best dancers? You get publicity, new fans, his fans coming to your performances just to see him and you'll get recognition in the K-Pop industry. But is that all you get from the dangerously attractive male who is just supposed to be a colleague until your promotions end?

SNEAK PEEK.

"Sorry for being late..." you muttered, a burning sensation creeping up your cheeks as you placed your bag under the table between your legs, hearing the same words being muttered by Jaemin. You looked over at him, eyes glazing over his features. You weren't gonna lie, he's the visual of NCT Dream for a reason, and you knew he was a good dancer, at least, from the SMTOWN concerts you all had last year.

"So, y/n, I'm sure you know Jaemin. He's going to be your dance partner for the comeback," Yoona says, standing in front of the table you all were sat at. "I wanted to get Taeyong or Ten but they both have schedules with 127 and WayV, and you made it very clear that you didn't want Jisung so we asked the other Dream members and Jaemin volunteered!"

You looked over at Jaemin who gave you a warm smile back which stirred something in your guts but you chose to ignore it (must be because you haven't had breakfast yet).

✧    ﹒     ♡       ⁺      ៹    ﹒       ♡    ﹒       ✧      ₊

tell me if you want to be tagged when it comes out!

#talktonana #ttn: dirty dancing #nct dream #jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jaemin x reader #jaemin fics #jaemin blurbs #nct #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct imagines #nct x reader

[enhypia]

° 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ˚ HS ; in front of exit 4

i got a crush on you ~~

pairing: idol!lee heeseung x idol!fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: roughly 2.7k

⊱ ── {⋅. ♪ .⋅gangnam station exit 4⋅. ♪ .⋅ } ── ⊰

series masterlist ⸺ enhypen masterlist

⁺◟gangnam station exit 1 . . . ꜜ

"do you want to collab?" heeseung stared at you with wide bambi eyes, and a mouth full of food. you laughed at his expression while he hurriedly chewed his food, "collab?" you nodded before eating a fry "yeah, i have a new song and i think it's better with a male voice, i suggested it to my producer and he agreed as well"

"i've also actually may have already talked to management already about it and they all liked the idea as well, so basically everyone has already agreed except you" you followed before he could say anything, his eyes narrowed as you spoke.

"... this feels like manipulation" you burst out laughing at his reply. heeseung rolled his eyes "can i at least hear it first?" you nodded grabbing your phone and playing the sample to him.

you bit your lip anxiously observing him as he listened. "well?" you asked looking at him expectantly. he sighed while dropping his head in his hands in 'defeat.' you giggled at his antics, "it's an amazing song..." "but?"

"but i don't get why out of all the male artist you could ask, you chose me" you rolled your eyes and knocked him (lightly) at the back of his head, making him groan in 'pain'

"that's a dumb question lee heeseung and you know it." heeseung tried to hide his smile and blush.

"so, you in?" as if heeseung could say no to you.

⁺◟gangnam station exit 2 . . . ꜜ

"why is the station so specific?" you hear heeseung ask as he read through the lyrics again, "it's a secret" you winked, making him roll his eyes in reply.

"it's a significant station since you know, that's where they met" you explained the song since it's basically a love confession song between two people who meet at gangnam station exit 4.

"i think using a specific spot rather than just saying train station, adds a little flare, don't you think?" he hummed in reply, scanning the lyric sheet again.

"so you know how the tone in this part goes..." heeseung lightly sings the part, "what do you think about changing it to this instead..." you smile softly as he suggests his ideas, which were amazing ones, you nodded encouragingly while he speaks his mind.

you were listening intently honestly, but that small part of your brain couldn't help but point out how much heeseung had grown, and at the same time, thought how he never really changed, he's still the heeseung you knew back when you guys were trainees.

"okay, let's try it" you say, taking a sip of water to prepare your throat. heeseung listened as you sang, applying the changes he suggested, he watched as your smile grew wider and wider, your hand moving to clutch his and shaking it in excitement, all while not breaking a note.

after singing, you face him, eyes wide and sparkly, covering your mouth with the paper in awe, heeseung only laughed at your reaction, "you like it?" "like it?!" you shriek, "hee, i think you just made the song ten times better what the fuck ?!" he shrugged like it was nothing but then chuckled and bowed his head in thanks.

"tell me more of your ideas!" you shuffled until you guys were pressed at the sides, hands still intertwined, heeseung happily listed his thoughts while he unconsciously caressed your hand with his thumb. the action being all too familiar that you didn't even notice, much like the proximity and affection between you guys.

it would have probably made people question your guys' relationship if it wasn't for the known fact that heeseung and you go way back even before you guys were trainees.

your friendship wasn't really that easy to hide in the first place since there are a lot of pre-debut pictures of you guys on the internet, and, you guys weren't really planning to hide it.

especially you, having debuted first, you openly congratulated heeseung in his debut since you couldn't exactly support him while in i-land because you were afraid your influence might affect his votes and image, so naturally you didn't hold back when his name was announced. it didn't bring much trouble because you guys were labelmates anyways. plus the fact that people were supporting, and defending your friendship, they were happy to see their 'faves' interacting.

it's why there weren't any qualms when you suggested of featuring heeseung in one of your songs, since not only does it make the song better, it also brings in wanted attention and publicity for the both of you.

so now, both friends are lost in their own little composing world, uncaring of everyone around them, they were legal anyways, in a sense, to be close to each other.

⁺◟gangnam station exit 3 . . . ꜜ

"wah im so nervous" you chewed on your lower lip as you repeatedly refreshed your feed, waiting for the announcement of your album track list.

you're currently with none other than lee heeseung, both agreeing to be together at the day of the announcement for support and of course, monitoring the response of the fans.

heeseung, not wanting your nervous state to worsen, picked-up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks before pulling your chin down, to stop your lip biting, and to open your mouth, and quickly shoved the food in.

he grinned innocently as you glared at him, angrily chewing the chicken.

"relax, i'm sure everyone will be ecstatic about your album, you'll probably be trending again too" you sighed leaning back on the sofa and covering your eyes with your arm.

"yeah but the chances of everything backfiring is never zero" heeseung chuckled as he scrolled through his phone, he successfully managed to make you forget of the announcement time.

"these tweets say otherwise" you immediately straightened up in realization and quickly checked your feed. the weight on your shoulders disappearing as you read the response.

"are you happy?" heeseung asks, and as always, you give him that god forbidding smile that he swears he only sees you using only on him.

"i am, thank you so much hee" you rest your head on his shoulder, smiling when you feel him kiss the crown of your head. "anytime, (y/n)"

⁺◟gangnam station exit 4 . . . ꜜ

you take deep breaths, and warm up your throat, feeling all funny in the stomach as you hear the cheers in the crowd backstage. you glanced at heeseung who was also shaking off the nerves and doing vocal runs.

your eyes meet and you give him a smile and thumbs up in encouragement which he returned. you allow your stylists to finalize everything they needed to before you go on stage. heeseung walks towards you seeing that you were done being fussed over. "good luck (y/n), fighting!"

"thank you, i'm just really nervous" you were going to perform your title track first before revealing the surprise live performance of your collab with him. "you'll do amazing, you always do" you smile before giving him a small hug and a wave as you were called over. "thank you! let's do our best!" you called.

once on stage, bathing in the lights and cheers, all your worries washed away and you let yourself enjoy the moment, happy to give everything to your fans. you grin when your performance ends and give a small bow in thanks to the audience. "hello, my name is (y/n), it's nice to meet you all" you introduce yourself.

after doing a ment of your gratitude and thoughts about the comeback, you finally decided to tease about the collab and performance.

"for this album, as you all know, i collabed with my friend, lee heeseung" loud cheers erupted, cutting you off. you laugh at the reaction "wah, i'm guessing you all liked it?" a chorus of "yes" resonated. "i'm glad, heeseung and i really worked hard on the song sooo..." you trailed off a playful smirk on your face, you hear the numerous "why?" and "what?"

"to show our thanks.." the lights turn off and you got into your position on the left side of the stage, and when the crowd sees the silhouette of a man joining you on stage and standing opposite of you, they scream louder than ever. you hide your grin when the lights come back on and reveals heeseung.

[song guide: bold for hee, italics for reader, bold italics for both]

In front of Gangnam Station Exit 4, I accidentally stumbled into her. your performance director had decided to actually enact the story in the song, so with that, heeseung pretended to bump into you. Her eyes are so sparkly, her eyes are so sparkly. you smile at the eye contact. If I just passed by, I think I would’ve regretted it.

In front of Gangnam Station Exit 4. A strange man in which I’ve encountered eyes with, He’s so cool, he’s so cool, I really like you. heeseung would've blushed as you guys circled and sang around each other if this performance wasn't already practiced a lot of times. (he blushed the first time though)

I got a crush on you, In front of Exit 4, Got a crush on you. oh the crowd loved that, they were basically getting a front view of a 'confession' between you guys. Next to that pretty girl, Thinking about something good to talk about, Thinking about how I should talk to you, Maybe, maybe that girl is looking at me too.

I got a crush on you, In front of Exit 4, Got a crush on you, Right next to you. Maybe you’re hesitating as well, Like me, Maybe you’re waiting for me as well. you stand off to the side, waving lightly at the people in front of you, to let heeseung do his part.

This path that I walk on everyday, I stop whenever I look at her eyes. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to breathe. Suddenly without me realizing, I’m getting attracted to you little by little. while performing, heeseung couldn't help but think about how accurate the lyrics were to his situation with you.

In the midst of the people grazing by, That smile of yours makes me get butterflies. It’s so sweet, it’s so sweet. Gee, I like you. you guys head over to the stools on stage and sat down before starting the chorus again

I got a crush on you. In front of Exit 4, Got a crush on you, Next to that pretty girl. Thinking about something good to talk about, Thinking about how I should talk to you. Maybe, maybe that girl is looking at me too. realization finally hits heeseung as he stares at you while you sing your part.

I got a crush on you. In front of Exit 4. 'we first met in gangnam station' heeseung thinks. Got a crush on you, Right next to you. Maybe you’re hesitating as well, Like me, Maybe you’re waiting for me as well, You know. 'is... is this.. us?'

Our eyes keep on, meeting each other. heeseung's gaze surprised you and you hoped it didn't show. it was different from the previous ones you received during practices. singing the last parts of the song, you and heeseung kept up the act for the performance, such as the shy smiles and glances, which the audience ate up.

you guys let them finish their cheers first before speaking. "surprise! lee heeseung everybody!" he bowed multiple times to the people on different seats of the place. you let heeseung say his thoughts and thanks before he leaves you to do your final ment.

you were unaware of the turmoil heeseung was in while you continued your comeback show. he sat down on his chair and stared into space as he remembered how you guys first met.

he was sure it was at gangnam station exit 4 because it was the stop to the training place, it's where you also found out you were both trainees for the same company. heeseung thought back on the lyrics of the song and his face immediately reddened at the implication.

his attention was taken away by you entering the green room "we did it! congratulations to us!" the smile on your face slowly vanished upon receiving no response, and seeing heeseung's blank state. "is everything okay?" you asked nervously fiddling with the hem of your dress.

you watched as heeseung stood up and closed the door behind you. you gulped when he turned around and walked towards you. you unconciously started to step back until your hip hit the the makeup table.

heeseung suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the counter making you yelp lightly in surprise. you could only stare at his eyes as he trapped you between his arms.

"what's going on?" you asked, gulping at the proximity of your faces. his eyes narrowed while they run over your face before he pulled back and crossed his arms. "we met at gangnam station, didn't we?"

oh. it was about that. you chuckle, anxiously fiddling with your fingers, "did we? i don't remember." heeseung gives you a 'look' and you break. "yes, we did, what of it?" you try to keep the cool, nonchalant act despite the rapid pounding of your heart.

"is it too assuming of me to think that the song is about us?" he asks tilting your head up by the chin so you'd be forced to look at him. your mouth dries at his gaze and you're unable to answer.

"and that it's also a confession?" heat blossomed in your face and you instinctively went to cover yourself but heeseung's hands caught yours and intertwined them. "hmm?" he tilts his head, waiting for you to answer.

"... no" you answer softly. "no what?" you glare at him. "no, you're not too assuming to think that" you admitted pouting. heeseung chuckled, bring your clasped hands up and kissing your laced fingers.

"and you boldly assumed that i also had a crush on you" he teased making you scoff, "you tell me lee heeseung, you trapping me like this isn't helping that thought" you instantly regretted that when heeseung placed your arms down and trapping you again, this time he was closer than ever.

'you know what, fuck this bitch, if he wants to play, i'll play' was the last thought that entered your head when you leaned in and placed your lips on his. heeseung's hold on you went slack in shock and you took this opportunity to break away and to duck past him.

but he quickly stopped you and pulled you in for another kiss, his arm circling tight around your waist while his other went to cup your face. you melted by the second as the kiss progressed.

your hand wandering from his to chest to his hair, the light growl that emitted from him when you pulled on it, only fired you up more.

you guys pulled away to breath before the kiss got any deeper. you feel his light pants on your lips while he rested his forehead on yours. heeseung then proceeded to shower your face with light pecks, making you giggle.

for a few seconds, you guys stood there just observing each other with his arms still wrapped around you and your hands locked at his nape.

"i love you" he whispers loud enough for you to hear. "platonically?" you joked, he only rolled his eyes before pecking you on the lips

"yes, because friends kiss platonically" he replies sarcastically. you laughed with him before saying "i love you too" and bringing him down for another kiss.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

⊹₊ ⋆ permanent taglist ꜜ

@soobin-chois

(send an ask or dm me if you want to be added, either on the permanent taglist or the series taglist, thank you!)

series masterlist ⸺ enhypen masterlist

━ ◦ ❖ ◦━

a/n: heesesung go brr kiss kiss

#enhypen #enhypennetwork #enhypenwriters #enhypen scenarios #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung #now playing #now playing heeseung’s tunes

[angelwonie]

drive me crazy || mark lee

PAIRING: fratboy!mark x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: you tell your boyfriend to keep it in his pants until your exams end, but when you come to his frat party looking so fucking pretty, he finds himself incapable of keeping his promise.

GENRE(S): smut & fluff <3

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, use of petnames, oral (male receiving), fingering, praise, very mild degradation, use of the word ‘dumb’ but in a praising way?, mark is horny throughout the entire fic

NOTE: horny mark is my favourite mark <3 minors dni

It is no surprise to anyone on campus that Mark Lee has a high sex drive.

He is, quite literally, always horny, and you fucking love it. Why wouldn’t you?

You love having his hands on you, grabbing every bit of skin they can find when he makes out with you, bending you over every flat surface currently available. You love all of that, but you absolutely hate what a distraction that trait of his is when you’re currently trying to study for an upcoming exam at the school library.

“Mark, please just focus?”

“But I am focused, baby,” He pouts. “Focused on getting out of here so we can make out on my couch.”

You sigh deeply, turning your attention to your history book and ignoring Mark's hand that goes up to grab at your lower thigh. One would've thought you'd get used to the feeling of his fingers against your bare skin, but you can't help shivering a little under his touch as he slowly brings his hand higher, slipping under your skirt.

“Mark, stop,” You tell him, moving his hand to your knee instead.

“But you look so pretty,” You can feel him rest his chin on your shoulder, hot breath hitting your neck as he speaks. “Come on, you've studied long enough.”

You suck in a breath as his lips fan over your earlobe, before he moves down to kiss your jaw softly. His tongue runs over your jawline until it's directly under your ear, and only then does he disconnect his lips from your sensitive skin.

“We’ve been here for ten minutes, Mark,” You whisper faintly.

Dragging his nose down your throat he kisses you again, this time showing attention to your neck. You moan quietly as he bites down on your flesh and sucks on it, his hand grabbing at your upper thigh. He's quick to have his tongue swirl over your flesh to soothe the place he's just marked, before moving to whisper in your ear again.

“You see? That's plenty of time.”

Before you can even react, he's pulling you into his lap, hands resting on your hips. You bite your lip at the feeling of his clothed cock brushing over the thin fabric of your panties, creating just the tiniest bit of friction. Rutting his hips upwards just a little, Mark smiles up at you with a seemingly innocent expression, smirking in triumph as you grab hold of his shoulders and let out a soft hiss.

“Markie, I need to study,” You whimper, not making any particular effort to get off of him as he nibbles on your neck again, rolling his hips into yours.

“But I need you,” He says against your collarbone, hands slipping under your shirt. “Gonna fuck you so good if you let me, babe.”

If you’re completely honest, his words and touches are becoming very hard to resist with the way his fingers are tracing circles on your back and he’s sucking marks into your skin, your panties soaking through faster with every little movement of his hips. He knows exactly what he’s doing, too, you can feel him smile into your skin when you let out a small whimper as he lightly runs his finger over your inner thigh. It would be so easy to just give in and let him have his way with you.

But this exam is important, so you manage to find the inner strength to push him away from you and get off of his lap to gather your things, deciding to study at your dorm instead so that you’d finally get peace to concentrate.

“Seriously?” You can hear Mark whine as you get up. “You’re just gonna leave me turned on in the middle of the library?”

“Seriously,” You say with an apologetic smile as he stands up, too, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I really need to get this done, Markie, and after that, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“You drive me crazy, you know?” He groans against your cheek, pressing his hardened cock against your thigh and you hum in response. “Absolutely crazy.”

“Mark, would you please stop eye-fucking Y/N? It's disgusting,” Haechan grumbles at the lunch table, staring daggers into a seemingly unfazed Mark, whose food lies untouched and eyes are glued to you – on the other side of the cafeteria, reading a book as you eat.

He can’t help but notice how your shirt has slid down a little, revealing enough of your cleavage to make his mouth water and his dick to grow half-hard again. It’s really frustrating, the effect you have on him. Especially now, that he’s promised to leave you alone until exams are over. He kind of understands your decision, but also not, because how would him having his way with you change the outcome of your tests?

But, as he comes to think of it, it is kind of time-consuming to make out between each class and fuck every chance you get at being alone.

“Yeah, you're looking at her as if she's your next meal or something,” Johnny adds jokingly.

“I wish,” Mark sighs in response, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not supposed to distract her before exams, which means zero touching.”

“Aw, Mark won't be getting his dick wet today,” His friend coos, earning a smack on the head from Mark. Easy for them to joke about, they don't have to go through the hell that he's going through right now.

“Anyway, don't fret too much, bro,” Haechan says. “Jaehyun’s throwing a party this weekend, and we both know you and Y/N can't keep your hands off each other at those.”

To your defense, it's very hard to keep your hands off of someone who doesn't keep his hands off of you. And someone who looks like Mark does, with big eyes and a pretty smile as he kisses you fervently, the rest of the party drowning in the background. If there is anything Mark is excited about right now, it’s exactly that.

Frat parties aren't really your thing. They're loud, messy and it reeks of alcohol everywhere. Still, you always go, for the sake of spending time with Mark. But right now, he's nowhere to be seen, and you're growing impatient, especially since you haven't talked with him for three days because of your exams. He was complaining so much about not being able to spend time with you and now he's not even here?

“Boo,” You’re about to go get another drink when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and as you turn around, you're met with the sight of your boyfriend in a button up shirt, and a smirk adorning his features. “Did you miss me?”

You smile as he puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Why do you think I showed up to this stupid party? I won’t be here long, anyway, since I have a chemistry exam tomorrow.”

Mark hums inattentively, pupils dilated as he admires you. He turns his head to the side so he can rest his nose against your jaw, hot breath fanning over your neck as he kisses it. Bringing his hand to your chin, he tilts it to the left so that he can connect his lips to yours, eliciting a moan from you as his tongue slides over your lower lip. He takes the opportunity to slip it inside your mouth, entangling his fingers in your hair and pulling at it slightly.

“But you look so pretty,” He says against your lips, opening his eyes to look at you with a gaze that surely would’ve made your knees buckle if he weren’t holding you in his arms. “It’d be a waste if you left without at least helping me out.”

He purposefully rolls his hips against your lightly, and it makes you look down on the visible bulge in his pants, biting your lip because you can feel your own panties getting damp. You run your hand over his cock experimentally only to elicit a low moan from his mouth, and he’s quick to let his head fall down on your shoulder as he ruts his hips into your hand. You can’t bring yourself to protest as he slips his hand under your shirt and bra, fingers grazing your hardened nipple while he sloppily kisses your jaw. He’s not holding back his moans, and they’re so pretty that you can feel yourself clenching around nothing but air, body craving more of him.

“Markie…” You whine softly as he rests his knee between your legs, rubbing it against your clothed pussy.

“Mmm?”

The way he hums against your skin sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a little lightheaded from how he’s pushing you against the wall with his leg that you’ve subconsciously started brushing your pussy across to create some friction.

“Can we please go upstairs?”

“Look at you, all needy,” He coos, smiling as you moan into the kiss when he squeezes one of your tits softly. “Don’t you have to study for your exam?”

“Screw the exam,” You say against his mouth. “I want you.”

And you know he wants you, too, when he grabs the hand you’re resting against his crotch, whimpering softly when you palm him through his pants, before he pulls at it in motion for you to follow him. You can’t help but feel a throb in your pussy at how fucked out he already looks – eyes open wide and pupils dilated, a sheepish smile adorning his pretty lips as he leads you up the stairs, and into his room that you’ve been in countless times.

The music outside is hushed now, muffled by the walls of his dorm, and it feels so much better like this, because you have Mark to yourself. He’s only here for you to see, only for you to kiss and touch. You watch as he closes the door, turning to you and letting his hungry gaze rest on your lips for a moment before he dives in, kissing you roughly with his hands cupping your cheeks. He tastes so sweet and it makes you realize just how much you’ve missed this feeling.

“You look pretty as fuck like this, you know?” He says as he pulls away from you, licking your saliva off his lips, the action making you press your thighs together in an attempt at relieving yourself from the heat between your legs.

The act doesn’t go unnoticed by Mark, and he’s quick to sit down on his bed, guiding you to sit on his lap. You whimper as he brings a hand between your legs, fingers playing with the hem of your panties for a while, teasing you, before he easily slides the underwear off of your legs. Gasping a little at the cold air hitting your cunt, you throw your head back when he runs one of his fingers through your folds.

“Shit, you’re fucking dripping,” He outright moans into your mouth, one of his fingers entering you with ease, stretching you out. It doesn’t take long before he’s adding another one, all just to hear your whines that grow louder with every wet kiss he places on your neck.

Soft moans escape past your lips at the feeling of finally being filled up, but it’s not enough, you need more of him, so you make an effort to move up and down on his fingers. You bite your lip when he curls his digits inside of you so you clench around him, yet not moving them at all. He knows exactly what he’s doing, providing you with just enough pleasure to make you crave more of it. But his teasing is cut short when he manages to get rid of your shirt and bra, leaving your tits on display for him.

“Have I told you that you drive me crazy?” He asks, one of his hands wrapping itself around your breast while the other starts slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. The sound of his digits moving inside of you fill the room together with the moans you let out when his tongue swirls over your collarbone, teeth biting at your skin and sucking marks into it.

You keep clenching and unclenching around his fingers as he drives them into you faster, scissoring you open and letting your juices drip onto his skin. The grip you’ve got on his shoulders tightens with every movement, your thighs starting to shake when he brings the palm of his hand to rub your clit in circles. You let out a shaky moan, feeling the knot in your lower stomach tighten and you start fucking yourself on his digits again, desperately chasing your own high. Mark only smiles at your actions, his fingers hitting your g-spot as he curls them inside of you.

“Markie…” You purr in his ear and you can feel how the bulge in his pants grows at the nickname, pressing against your thigh. “Gonna cum.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You nod your head furiously, letting yourself go and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum, thighs shaking and loud moans spilling past your lips. A groan leaves Mark’s mouth as he pulls his digits out of you, your eyes snapping open at the feeling and you watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking your juices off of them – the sight enough to make a throb form itself between your legs again.

Unintentionally, your hand brushes over Mark’s crotch as you adjust yourself in his lap, the contact eliciting a whimper from his mouth and in response you smile, running your fingers over his clothed cock teasingly before palming him through his jeans. Enjoying the low moans he lets out, you continue rubbing against him, attaching your lips to his neck to leave a couple marks.

“Fuck, babe,” He groans when you pull away, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek and running a finger over your lower lip. “You’re so hot. Let’s put that pretty mouth of yours to use, yeah?”

Nodding, you slide off of his lap to kneel on the ground in front of him, your hands unzipping his jeans and tugging his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. You can’t even hide the way your mouth waters at the sight, your pussy clenching around nothing for the nth time today. Experimentally licking his tip first, you can see him biting his lip, admiring you from above as you slowly but surely work to take his cock into your mouth.

You can hear Mark sigh as you wrap your hand around his base where your mouth can’t reach, his hand going to cup your hollowed cheek. A loud groan leaves his mouth when you take him further down your throat, his cock twitching in your mouth when he feels himself through the skin on your cheek.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well.”

His fingers pull at your hair when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, eliciting a moan from your mouth that sends vibrations throughout Mark’s body, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Drunk on the pretty sounds that he lets out, you speed up your movements, making sure to touch the tip of his dick with your tongue once in a while, swirling and sucking his sensitive skin – all just to hear him praise you.

“Ah, baby, fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” He says, the praise shooting straight to your pussy and making you let out a muffled whimper, the urge to fuck yourself on his cock instead strong.

Instead, you take him even deeper, the small buck of his hips making tears prickle your eyes as he continues caressing your cheek until he finally reaches his orgasm. His cock twitches in your mouth as he cums, spilling his seed inside of you and you proudly swallow it, smiling at the way Mark’s eyes go wide at the sight.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” He groans, hands on your body the moment you stand up, pulling you into his lap again. You feel his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand down to brush over his cock. “Look what you do to me, babe, I’m already hard again.”

You let out a moan when his hands move to your hips, pushing them down to meet his, the very tip of his cock grazing your clit. Originally, you’d wanted to tease him a little, but your plan is cut short when he digs his fingers into your skin, pushing you down on him slowly. Mark’s grip on your waist tightens as you finally sink down on his cock, the feeling of your walls sucking him in making him groan into your ear, biting down on your earlobe.

An experimental thrust of his hips is enough to make you moan his name, pussy clenching around him already and urging him to continue. And he does, pushing your hips down on his while he thrusts upwards, cock hitting the spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure. You let out a moan at the feeling of being filled up like that, his cock buried deep enough inside of you to make you feel lightheaded, pussy repeatedly clenching around him with every movement.

“Shit,” Mark groans as you tighten around his length. “Do that again.”

His moans mix with yours when you do as he asks, feeling every vein on his cock. When your thighs start burning from the way you’re bouncing on his cock, drunk on the way you feel full when you sink down on him, he helps you move, hands pushing you down repeatedly until you’re practically a whining mess, your juices leaking onto his cock. The knot in your stomach begins to tighten, every deep thrust of his making you see stars.

The way he’s forcing you down on his dick allows him to go even deeper, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You let your mouth fall open when he brings the palm of his hand to brush over your clit in rhythm with how you’re fucking yourself on his cock, the pleasure almost too much for you to handle and you grab at his hand to slow down his movements. But Mark only smiles condescendingly, enjoying the way you let out shaky moans as he brings you closer to the edge.

“God, I love how you always act all smart and then, when we’re alone, you let me fuck you dumb.”

He smiles against your jaw when he feels you clench around him in response to his words.

“Yeah, you like that? Like when I call you my dumb little slut?”

“Markie, it’s too much…” You whine, yet you don’t make any particular effort to stop getting yourself off on his cock. On the contrary, you pull him closer to you as you find yourself on the verge of reaching your high. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck, me too” He breathes into your ear, cock twitching inside of you as he grabs your waist tighter. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” You don’t even hesitate. “Please, I want you to fill me up with your cum, Markie.”

“Shit, okay.”

Burying your head in the crook of his neck, you moan loudly, arms wrapped around his neck as you both reach your long awaited orgasms. His cock twitches inside of you again, before you feel him shoot his cum deep into your pussy, hips still bucking upwards as he groans into your ear. Your thighs are burning from the way you’ve been bouncing on his cock and it’s pretty much only because of the way that Mark is helping you move that you manage to ride out your high.

It’s not before you’ve both caught your breath that Mark pulls out of you, the feeling of being empty making you whine quietly as he helps you lie down beside him. He interlaces his fingers with yours as he reaches for your hand, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” You say with a smile. “And I’m in love with you.”

TAGLIST: @hiraarri @jaeymark @chardonnayyyy @treasuretaeil @layrree @heeseungsz @chitaphrrrr @rollypollypoing @trulyjaes add yourself here!

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[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU | 36k

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most.

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste.

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it?

And yet, you can.

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college.

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.”

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words.

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body.

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.”

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

That night as you settle down on your bed, warm and fresh after your shower, you check on your phone and realize that you’ve been doing that for at least fifteen times in the last twenty minutes, waiting for Donghyuck’s text to arrive. The second that thought enters your mind, your phone beeps.

Stop thinking about me. You’re making me blush. - Sexy Lips

Your phone nearly leaps out of your hand. Reading his text three times more, you respond with: Are you seriously naming yourself Sexy Lips on my phone?

It doesn't take long before he answers: You just realized it now? I was conflicted between choosing that or “the cute barista you couldn’t stop thinking about” though it’s clever because of the pun, I decided the last one was too long and it isn’t as catchy as Sexy Lips. Might use that as my stage name if I ever debut as a stripper.

When you’re hesitating with your answer—because how the fuck should you respond to that?—he adds: But they ARE sexy, aren’t they?

Now, you’re even more confused. Are you usually this irritating?

He replies with: Depends. Are you going to think about me as much as you’ve been doing today?

Your cheeks begin to heat, your thumbs shaking slightly as they tap out the words. Can I have some privacy, please?

But before you can send it, your phone begins to ring. This time, it really does jump out of your hand and smacks you right on the face. Rubbing your bruised nose while cursing under your breath, you pick up the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart. It’s Sexy Lips. How’s your nose?”

Your heart beats faster and you muster as much brain energy as you can to focus on not thinking about it. “Why are you calling?”

“Because waiting for you to finish typing up your text when I could read your thoughts is just dumb. Also, my nana types faster than you.”

“I—I was about to go to sleep, though.”

“Liar. I’ve memorized your daily schedule by now. This is the time where you’ll be thinking about your stupid crush.”

All the blood rushing to your head makes you feel dizzy. “You heard that?!”

“Obviously. But I always tried to shut you up with my music.”

The realization hits you like a wave. “So that’s why your song always sounds louder at night!”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” 

“Hey, I’ve been having trouble sleeping because of that too, asshole.”

“Asshole?” He scoffs. “You're calling me an asshole after we just met? Is this how you usually talk with boys on the phone?”

“Only with the ugly ones.”

He gasps dramatically. “Well, you surely have been thinking about this ugly boy a lot tonight.”

“Of course, isn’t it normal? I just met someone who could hear my thoughts.” You pinch your cheek to stop your blush from appearing. “I bet I’d hear my name being thrown a lot in your head too if I could hear yours.”

“You don’t have to hear my thoughts, you could just ask.” The way he chuckles is so light, almost indistinct but equally heartwarming. “Unlike you, I’m pretty straightforward with my answers.”

You curl your fingers around the hemline of your oversized sweater. “So… It’s true, then..?”

“What is?”

“That you…” You realize it could get embarrassing to ask, you just didn’t think it could be this embarrassing. “You know what, forget it. It’s dumb.”

“I’ll let you off the hook this time.” He sounds so amused, it makes you feel uneasy. “I have been thinking about you—a lot today, actually. But whether or not it has something to do with you being mentally connected to me is the question that I, myself, am not sure to answer.”

You bring your phone to your chest, closing your eyes. Be still, heart.

His voice, as you stray away from your phone, is nearly inaudible when he coos, “Aaw, look how cute you are—”

“Anyway,” you briskly say, bringing your phone back to your ear. “I haven’t heard you sing in my head in the last few hours.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to give you a break. I haven’t listened to any songs and tried my best not to think about them.”

“Oh…” You unconsciously play with some loose strands of your hair. “Thank you… You don't need to do that, though.”

“You’re welcome.” The way his voice suddenly softens only makes your heart palpitate even more. “You deserve it. It's the least I can do. Sorry for bothering you all this time.”

“N-no, it’s fine.” You clear your throat, wishing that you could stop sounding like a thirteen-year-old girl facing her first crush. “I wish I could do the same for you but controlling my thoughts is nearly impossible.”

“Yeah, about that,” he professes, “I’m already used to listening to your thoughts and it never really bothers me when you think about your college assignment or that TV show you like so much, but can you stop thinking about Jung fucking Jaehyun for one second?”

You freeze, mouth parted in shock. Shit, that’s right. “Umm—h-how much have you heard about him exactly?”

“As much as you thought about him, duh.”

You smack your head with your phone. “Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re a virgin. You have no experience in romance, whatsoever. So imagining having a baby with his dimples must be—”

“What—wait—”

“You’re curious, I get it. You romanticize about the day where he will sweep you off your feet, carry you bridal style, and run off toward the sunset—”

“Please stop talking—”

“And hey, I won’t judge. They’re your thoughts, you’re free to have them. But if I hear one more thing about you rubbing your noses together—”

“OKAY, OKAY, I GOT IT, PLEASE STOP!” This guy is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. “I’ll try to control my mind from now on.”

“Thanks. You can always try to think about something else, you know? Alternatively, you can just think about me. I won’t mind if you do.”

The way he sounds as if he’s actually giving you proper advice makes you roll your eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I have more important things to think about.”

“Yeah? Like what? Do enlighten me.”

“I don’t know, like…” You try so hard not to think about him and you’re confident enough to say you’re getting better at it this time. “Like what happened during World War II or something.”

“That’s…” He sounds like he’s holding back a laugh. “Not the answer I expected to hear, but go on. What is so interesting about World War II?”

And it’s so bizarre that the rest of your conversation actually ends with you talking about the holocaust and the effect it has on the younger generations. It’s even weirder that Donghyuck listens through everything fervidly. 

You’re comforted by the silence and you’ve always been retreating into your mind to rest, but now that he lives inside your head, you have to adapt and accept the fact that your soul is now laid bare in front of his eyes. You thought it would be dreadful, to have someone—a stranger, even—to break into your facade, and although it still doesn’t sit well with you, Donghyuck manages to destroy the wall you built within hours. 

And it turns out, you’re somewhat okay with it. At least, for now, anyway.

One conversation leads to another and normal arguments give birth to nonsensical ones. They devolve continuously until finally, he starts discussing why are both of SpongeBob's parents round like sea sponges while he is square? Which turns into a pretty heated debate. 

When you finally take a glance at the clock on your bedside table, you realize that a couple of hours have passed by and it’s now two in the morning. “It’s late,” you mention, “We should get some sleep.”

“You’re right. I got an early shift tomorrow. Wait, I mean today.”

“How early?”

“Like, five AM?”

“Wait, what?” You sit up on your bed, feeling contrite. “Why are you wasting your time on me? You should be resting!”

“Who said I was wasting my time? I think we had a pretty smart discussion just now. Worth every second, if you ask me.”

You bury your flustered face in your pillow, murmuring the words, “You should’ve been sleeping though.”

“Nah. It’s fine. Talking to you feels better than just hearing your thoughts but couldn’t respond to any of them. You don’t even know how much I wanted to counter your words whenever you thought about something dumb. Do you realize how much you’re not making any sense most of the time?”

“N-now, I do. I’ll work on it.”

“Don’t. I think it’s cute.” There’s a pause with you holding your breath the entire time. “Are you… okay with this? I mean, you’ve mentioned how you don’t like talking to people.”

You bashfully smile. “My throat hurts, actually. I’ve never talked this much before. But it’s been, umm… fun.”

The sound of his laughter grows on you. “Good, ‘cause I intend to continue this. Like it or not, we’re in this together now. We’re partners.”

“Partners?”

“In a platonic way.” But then he hums, as a thought enters his mind. “Possibly sexually too in the future, who knows—”

Your phone slips, smacks you on the face again, and you’re pretty much dying both from the pain and the embarrassment. Fortunately for you, he doesn’t notice—or maybe he does but he’s too sleepy to jeer at you.

“I’m just saying that we’ve only known each other for one day, but it feels like I’ve known you more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He yawns, probably stretching his arms above his head too. “You’re right, I gotta hit the bed. Good night—or good morning, I guess?”

Your cheeks feel warm at his soft chuckle. “Good morning, Hyuck.”

“Good morning, Sweetheart.”

***

 Your next meeting with Donghyuck ended with no solution to your problems and more stupid discussions to argue later on but there was some progress.

“Not sure if you knew about this,” he said, as he stole a French fry from your plate. “But your thoughts get louder in my head when you’re feeling emotional.” He was having a day off work and invited you to have some brunch before you had to go to class. You didn’t realize having brunch with him would end with Donghyuck munching more food off your plate than you were. You didn’t complain out loud since he paid for both of your meals, but you made sure to mention it several times in your head. When you raise an eyebrow, he continues. “Like whenever you’re on your period and you get upset about literally anything in the world—”

Flushed, you retort, “I don’t do that—”

“Yes, you do. Every month. You make me feel like I’m the one who’s menstruating whenever that happens.”

You buried your hands in your palms, deeply ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it’s hormonal so…” He waves his hand nonchalantly. “Anyway, when your emotions get intense, like when you’re angry, sad, pained, nervous—or overjoyed, even—your thoughts get so loud that you’re practically hammering your fist against my head. There was this one time, I recall, when I had to stay home for the entire day since I could barely walk down from the bed.”

“Because of the headaches?”

“No, because I suddenly turned into a woman.” He rolls his eyes. “And as much fun as it was to have your own massive boobs to ogle at, I couldn’t walk without having something big hanging between my legs.”

You gotta give him some props for paying so many details in delivering his sarcasm. “Sometimes a simple yes is enough.”

“Then stop asking the obvious.”

You sigh, this problem—and his whole being—give you headaches. “But then, what should I do? How can I mute my thoughts in your head?”

“Try to keep yourself composed,” he suggests, taking the last French fry from your plate, has the courtesy to ask whether you want to eat it or not, but plops it into his mouth without wasting a second after he sees you shaking your head. “Or talk to me. Call me whenever you need me. It’s better for me to hear you talk directly compared to have you shouting in my head.”

“You’re…” You’re in awe, honestly. “You’re actually quite nice, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m nice.” He takes a bite of your muffin this time. “Besides, I can just use earplugs when you’re speaking so I don’t have to listen to you.”

“You’re my guardian angel,” you mutter flatly. “Don’t ever leave me.”

Puckering his lips, he coos, “Of course, baby.”

Somehow, meeting Donghyuck between your schedules, talking to him at night, and exchanging lame banters over the phone, become a habit that you grow to love and it’s weird that it doesn’t feel weird. You have never enjoyed conversing with someone this much. Talking to Donghyuck is easy—natural, even—and it’s different than the conversations you have with your only friend/crush, Jaehyun. With Donghyuck, you can really, truly be yourself, not afraid of making stupid sentences, not too worried about hurting his feelings with your jokes because you know he’s going to throw one back at you without having any hard feelings. With your crush, you’re always too busy trying to keep your craziness intact, in fear of having him distance himself from you—which is bizarre, because you’ve been friends with him for three years, and you’ve only met Donghyuck for three weeks.

But those interactions you had during those three weeks were much more intense and intimate than any kind of bond you’d shared with anyone else, in the sense of you baring your soul in front of him. You didn’t have a choice. Him knowing every bit of your mind—literally—still makes you feel weird, sometimes nervous, and often ashamed. But as insolent as he can be sometimes, Donghyuck is always considerate of your feelings. He only jokes about the things that don’t matter and keeps silent about things that make you uncomfortable. For example, he will constantly make fun of the sappy love stories you imagine in your head about a certain man who lives next door. But he will never make fun of the way you always feel insecure about yourself, how you compare your imperfections to people’s perfections, or the disappointment you feel toward your parents for choosing to focus on their profession over their daughter’s well-being. Whenever you’re drowning too deep in those thoughts, he would call you to talk about Jeno and his stupid, beefy biceps that he’s secretly jealous of, or ruffle your hair until you complain about it. Funnily enough with him, even those little things he does always succeeds to distract you in a good way.

Hyuck, you form the words in your head as you snuggle close to your beloved teddy bear, body warm and cozy under the comfort of your duvet. If you hear this, I just want to say thank you for keeping up with my thoughts all this time. And just… You awkwardly shift your weight from side to side. Thank you for being my friend.

When your phone stays mute—no text, no phone calls—you wonder whether he’s already asleep. But when your eyelids grow heavy, you hear a song playing in your head. It takes a while for you to notice what song it is—even when the original version is playing, but then you remember. It’s the stupid song that SpongeBob sang to Plankton when they became best friends.

You’re so dumb. You giggle. This time, a text comes up: Well, you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met so we complete each other, don’t we?

You shake your head, tapping your thumbs against the screen. “I gotta go to sleep. Good morning, Hyuck.”

Good morning, Sweetheart.

***

“Hey, how have you been?” 

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of your neighbor’s voice as he meets your eyes on your way out of your apartment. You’ve been living by yourself for the past year, since your family had moved to a different town for business purposes, leaving you here to take care of their place while pursuing your education. Jaehyun, the boy who managed to steal your heart from the first day you laid your eyes on him, stares at you with concern, analyzing your profile. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Jaehyun is dressed handsomely in a black winter coat that elongates his height. Kissed by the cold, his cheeks turn a bit scarlet but his smile is as warm as the hand warmer sitting in your pocket. Being three years older than you, Jaehyun feels responsible for your safety, especially when your parents brazenly ask him to look after you on their behalf. You know he only sees you as the little sister he never has but you can’t help but wish for more.

“Hi…” Your throat suddenly feels dry, heartbeat blasting through your ears. It’s always like that when it comes to him. You have so many things you want to confess, yet the second his eyes meet yours, you have to glance away, loss for words. “I’m great. Y-you?”

“Why are we so formal?” Unlike Donghyuck’s high-pitched ones, his small laughter sounds deep when it reverberates to your ears. “I’m okay. Kinda miss you, though. We haven’t been hanging out lately.”

You bite the corner of your lip. Me too. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much. “Sorry, I was, umm, busy with college.”

“Aren’t you on a winter break?”

Fuck, yes, that’s right. Great job, idiot. “I’m just busy reading materials for the next semester.” 

Jaehyun is entertained with your excuse, you know he is from the way he holds back his grin, his dimples catching your attention. “Well, I’ve missed you a lot. You used to come and hang out with me every weekend.” His eyes are tender. They always are whenever they peer into yours which often makes you think that he might regard you as something more than a sister. But then again, Jaehyun is always nice to anyone. You shouldn’t consider yourself special. “You look a bit pale.”

“Oh, umm—” You fix your bangs, suddenly feel way too conscious about your appearance. “Just a little bit under the weather, that’s all.”

“You’re sick?” The way he immediately presses his palm against your forehead, checking on your body temperature makes you panic, hastily pulling away from his touch.

“I-I’m fine, don’t mind me.” You bring your gaze down to your feet, making sure that your eyes are hidden behind your fringe. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night so I spent the whole day making up for it.”

“Okay.” On contrary, he only seems more concerned and that’s the reason why you adore him. He’s so attentive and thoughtful, always worrying over your well-being even more than you do. “Are you heading somewhere?”

“I…” You’re actually on your way out to Donghyuck’s workplace to have a chat, but since you didn’t make an appointment with him or anything—just did it on a whim—you decided to re-evaluate your plan. “Just wanted to grab some coffee.” 

“Then, come over to my place,” he invites, sliding down his card to unlock his door. “I’ll make you some dinner too. I want to catch up with you if that’s all right.” When he sees you taking a few seconds to consider his offer, he pleads. “Please?”

With him flashing that dashing smile of his, how could you ever decline?

“I’m pretty sure that I heard you thinking about wanting to meet me a few hours ago.” Donghyuck starts the conversation later that night. “But then your head suddenly went blank and just like that, my name turned into another man’s name. I trusted you, baby, how could you do this to me? Cheating behind my back? After those nights we spent passionately talking about those poor children being tortured to death by the Nazis? I am devastated. I thought what we had was special!”

His words may sound playful, but somehow, there’s an underlying tone that makes you feel perturbed. “You’ve, umm… You’ve been listening to my thoughts again?”

“You’ve been feeding me your thoughts. Whenever Jaehyun appeared, they literally screamed at me.”

“Literally?”

“Literally.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” You rub your temple. “I wish I could keep my mind to myself, I really do, but—”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault. We just gotta come up with a solution before I jump off a cliff or something.”

“You’re…” The tone he’s using makes your stomach feel queasy. “You sound quite upset today.”

You hear him exhale heavily. “I’m just in a bad mood.”

“Because of me…?”

There’s one second of silence and that’s a second too long. “No, of course not. Just had some trouble at work, that’s all. Do you have some time this weekend? I think we should talk—I mean, directly, this time.”

“I’m…” You play with the bottom of your shirt. “I’ve promised I’d spend time with Jaehyun.”

Another pause and the tension prickles your skin. “Is that so?” He conveys coldly. “Great that you’re making progress.”

“Hyuck—”

“Well, you already know my working schedule. Just swing by to the coffee shop whenever you have time.”

He hangs up without waiting for your reply and there’s a twinge inside your chest. Your thoughts begin to swirl, worried and anxious as you try to find your mistakes. Before long, a text message appears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cold. It’s not your fault so don’t worry too much. By the way, is my name still written as Sexy Lips on your phone?

You gradually begin to relax. I don’t have the heart to change it yet.

Another text comes shortly: Perfect. I’m smiling already.

And just picturing him that way, makes you mirror his action. 

***

“Hyuck, are you okay?” You ask when he finally answers your FaceTime call after missing it twice. After spending most of your free time with Jaehyun, you feel like you owe him an apology, especially when that last smile Jaehyun displayed on his face before he parted ways with you successfully made you weak on the knees. You tried your best to suppress your thoughts, you really did, but it was impossible to do when your feelings for the pale man only grew more intense. 

Your heart throbs as you wait for Donghyuck’s reply, knowing that your thoughts must have been torturing him last night. “You kept your music on till morning. D-did I bother you?”

“No, I was just really tired from work so I needed some time for myself,” Donghyuck says, sinking into the comfort of his pillow. “Sorry. That was selfish of me.”

“It’s okay.” He’s holding back for my sake. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. Did you?” 

From the screen of your phone, you can only see the top half of his face, his hair is still damp after his late-night shower. Another two months have passed, and the two of you have stopped seeing each other so often. Donghyuck always made a bunch of excuses whenever you asked to meet him in person, usually about him going on a date, which was weird because he always played music so loudly during those times. You had a hunch he was lying but you weren’t sure why he was avoiding you. You noticed that he had been distancing himself from you when you started seeing Jaehyun more frequently. Maybe your thoughts were being too loud for him to bear?

The first two weeks were awful, but he gradually began to warm up to you again. He even insisted for you to FaceTime him nowadays, and it felt too intimate at first, but after he showed you the huge hole he had on one of his socks, you realized that no, it just felt like two friends goofing around.

“Yes, slept like a baby. I was dead tired too.” That was a lie, and if he had taken a closer look at his screen, he would’ve seen the dark circles under your eyes. But it’s fine, you’re happy as long as he gets to rest. That’s the least you can do after pestering him constantly with your thoughts. “How was your day?”

“The usual,” he murmurs, voice a bit muffled by the pillow. He still hasn’t spared you a glance and you can feel you’re a second away from begging to see his face. It doesn’t feel like him. Donghyuck without his blinding smiles is just— 

“Hyuck?”

“What?”

“A penny for your thoughts?” You shyly peek at him from behind your bangs. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one who’s transparent around here.”

“I fucking hate that idiom.”

A small pause where you can only hear his soft breathing while you, on the other hand, are holding yours. “I’m…” When you’re finally able to, your breathing stutters. “I’m sorry…”

He notices he went too far. Of course, he does. Even without being able to hear your thoughts, he's always perceptive that way. Straying himself away from his pillow, you can finally see his face. For someone who said he slept well last night, he sure looks like he's been missing it for days. “No, I’m sorry.” He rubs his nape, eyes going anywhere but yours. “I don’t know why I said that. Can you ask that again?” When you stay mute, he finally gazes at you, a thin smile blossoming on his face. “Please? I’ll answer it better this time.”

Something is wrong—definitely wrong and you want to fix it, but you’re not sure he wants you to. But when you repeat your words, he forces his smile to break wider. “A penny? My thoughts are worth more than that, Sweetheart.”

It sounds more like him but the gestures he’s making still don’t sit well with you. “Then don’t share your thoughts. Tell me something—like a memory. Tell me something about your past—” You realize you’re being too demanding. “If t-that’s okay…”

The mischievous look he’s forced himself to make vanishes instantly. He shifts away from the screen again, only showing you a little part of his cheek and the fluffy strands of his brown hair. “What do you want to know?”

“There’s this one song that you often sing. I’ve never heard you listen to the original, just you thinking about it. You had it playing in your head non-stop last week too.”

“Ah…” He scratches his cheek awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I tried not to, but…”

“No, don’t be. That’s not why I brought it up. I just wonder who sings it. It sounds nice.”

He goes still. “Nice, huh? Isn’t this the first time you complimented me on my music taste?”

“Yeah well, this one seems more heartfelt, unlike the pretentious ones you like to hear.” You try to joke around to ease the tension, but it bounces right off the wall he’s built around him, only making you grimace in return. “I—I tried to look it up online but couldn’t find anything that matched the lyrics.”

“Of course, you couldn’t.” Donghyuck smiles but his eyes don’t follow, which leaves you in confusion because he usually does it with his eyes first. “It’s something I personally wrote back in high school.”

“You wrote a song?”

“Several songs, actually. Well, co-wrote it. Mark was the one who did most of the work.”

“But that’s amazing! Who’s Mark?”

“Just…” He turns to his back, draping an arm over his eyes. “A friend of mine.”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “Sounds more like a friend.”

“We didn’t date if that’s what your dirty mind is thinking.”

“Wouldn’t judge even if you did.” You shrug. “Are you two still close? How come I’ve never seen you hanging around with him?”

Donghyuck lets the silence answers you instead and during times like this, you truly wish you could hear his thoughts as clear as he could hear yours. The atmosphere feels heavy, almost suffocating. “Hyuck?”

“Oh, sorry, I fell asleep.” He rubs a hand over his face, his fingers hiding his eyes. “Can I call you tomorrow? I have an early shift too so…”

“R-right, okay…” He stirs away until his face can no longer be seen, only showing the strands of his hair and his shoulder sagging in exhaustion. “Hyuck, I don’t know if you’ve heard this from reading my thoughts, but…” A warm smile breaks upon your face, hoping that he would exchange stares with you again. “Thank you for befriending me. I’m so glad I met you. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.” 

You expect him to snort or mock you about it, but instead, the only sound you can hear is his delicate breathing. Has he fallen asleep again? Not sure how to act, you mumble quietly. “Good ni—Good morning, Hyuck.”

Unbeknown to you, there is not a hint of drowsiness on his face, and he knows he would stay awake for hours after hearing your words. But instead of replying to your farewell, Donghyuck stays in reticence, straying his head away from the camera. When you finally end the call with a heavy heart, Donghyuck sinks his face deeper into his pillow, mumbling, “Best friend, huh…?”

There’s a pang of guilt growing larger and larger inside his chest whenever he remembers your smile, the way you furrow your eyebrows in concern whenever you think that you're going too far with your jokes, or just simply the way you call his name. You’ve been painting nothing but pleasant memories in his head, and yet, just because he can’t control his emotions, he keeps hurting your feelings.

I’m sorry.

Still staring at your phone screen, unconsciously waiting for another response from him because that last farewell doesn’t feel right, you freeze when a song enters your mind. It’s Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens, the one that often flits through your head due to its vulnerable lyrics and melancholic melody. It's one of your most beloved songs but you‘ve never told him how much it meant to you before. He must have taken notes. A shy smile, filled with joy and adoration for him, decorates your lips.

Thank you, Hyuck.

***

“Why are you so pissed off these days?” Jeno has his spine pressed against the wall, crossing his arms on his chest. His apron is still intact, unlike Donghyuck who’s just ready to run home even when he still has ten more minutes before his shift is over.

“I’m not.” Donghyuck sighs, groaning into the air. His fingers are lathered with soap as he rubs the coffee stains off his porcelain mugs. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because you are.” The taller man yawns, eyes drowsy as he peeps back. “Things haven’t been going well with the mistress?”

“Well, aren’t you nosy.”

“I’m just pretending to care.”

“Thanks.” Finished, Donghyuck washes his hands and turns the tap off. His shoulders sag, his head dangling forward with his bangs falling over his eyes. He turns around to face the other man, reclining against the counter. “This is a dumb question but—”

“Coming from you, I’m not surprised.” But Jeno is startled with the way Donghyuck doesn’t glare menacingly at his retort. Instead, the shorter man brings his eyes down to his feet.

“Have you ever heard about soulmates?” Donghyuck quietly, hesitantly asks. “Like two people having a mental bond.”

“What mental bond?”

“Like,” Donghyuck recoils, tense fingers jumping straight up to massage the side of his head at the sound of your thought blaring through his ears. “Hearing their thoughts and stuff.”

Jeno doesn’t cringe or scoff at his words, unlike what Donghyuck has expected. It sends a shiver down his spine when the man simply hums and responds, “Well, I’ve heard something similar. It happened at this restaurant I used to work—I don’t know these people directly so don’t ask me that. I just heard some staff talking about it during a break.”

Gulping, Donghyuck presses, “Talking about what?”

“There was this guy named Taeil,” Jeno informs. “He used to be a waiter but got fired only after a month of working. I came in to fill in his shoes and when I asked why he was dismissed, a staff told me that something weird happened or rather, he was weird. Whenever it rained, he’d get so nervous that he could barely concentrate. And when it got heavier, he’d lock himself up in the bathroom for hours until it stopped. If it was raining before the restaurant was opened, he would skip work entirely for the whole day. He said that he had a severe case of astraphobia and people would make fun of him behind his back, making him feel isolated.”

“Poor dude,” Donghyuck comments, immersed in the story. “Then, what happened?”

“One day, he had to take orders from a female customer. When their eyes met, he was so surprised, he yelled something like 'I see you every night in my dreams!’”

The hairs on Donghyuck’s nape stand up but he acts unconcerned. “That’s a terrible pick-up line.”

“I know, right?” Jeno scoffed. “But the thing is, he wasn’t flirting. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, they said. So they hauled him away, asked him what the hell was going on, and Taeil said that he saw her memories in his dreams. He said she was abused by her father during her childhood days. They told him he was going insane but for him it was real. Taeil even challenged them to take a look at her arm. He said she would have a scar, inflicted by a knife from when her father tried to hurt her. Curious, a staff secretly checked on her as he apologized on Taeil’s behalf. It was true, she had the scar. And Taeil wouldn’t have been able to see it at first, since she hadn’t taken her coat off when she made her orders earlier.”

Donghyuck’s lips are pressed tightly shut, heart racing a tad faster. “Did she recognize him?”

“At that time? No. But she became a regular soon after, and one day, she was stuck at the restaurant, couldn’t leave since it was pouring so heavily outside. Taeil, like usual, was hiding somewhere and when thunder flashed through the sky, she screamed. They said she looked like she was in pain, falling from her chair, hands going to her head. When a waiter asked what happened, she said her head was about to burst, and she said this: stop screaming in my head.”

As if he was telling a horror story, Jeno leers at Donghyuck to see his reaction and he smirks when the male looks terrified. “Creepy, right?”

It’s not as creepy as it is startling. There are really some people out there who are experiencing the same thing, though the case is slightly different. “Did they get to talk to each other?”

“I don’t know.” Jeno shrugs. “I didn’t hear the rest of the story. Wasn’t interested enough to dig around.”

“Can you get me his contact?”

“Dude, it’s just a story. I don’t think it’s really—” But Jeno stops arguing when he witnesses the desperation in Donghyuck’s voice, matched by the determination that gleams in his eyes. It’s as if he’s dying and he’s in desperate need to find the cure to survive. “I… can ask around for you, I guess…”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. “Thanks.” 

Jeno narrows his eyes. "Dude, you okay?" 

With the feeling of hope surging inside his chest, he answers, "I will be."

***

When he gets Taeil’s contact later that day, he doesn’t waste a second waiting. It’s weird for strangers to talk about supernatural things during their first call but Donghyuck doesn’t beat around the bush. He tells Taeil his situation without hiding anything in the shadows, and luckily for him, after a few frenzied attempts in convincing, the older man believes him enough to meet him in person. 

They meet at a cafe near Taeil’s apartment and Donghyuck buys him a cup of coffee out of courtesy, though it’s left out cold as they dive further into their conversation. Taeil, a skinny man with choppy bangs and awkward smiles, is more friendly than Donghyuck has expected, and that’s probably because no one ever gives him the chance to speak his mind before. 

Taeil’s astraphobia started when he was eleven years old after he witnessed a man being struck by lightning directly in front of his eyes. The memory stayed with him for years, becoming a recurring nightmare for countless nights until it suddenly stopped. Because on the night he turned twenty, his dreams began to morph into something else. A nightmare but one that didn’t belong to him. He saw a young girl, both physically and mentally abused by her biological father and she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried. When years had passed by and she was old enough to live and make money on her own, she left her home to live in the city. But the trauma, just like the knife scars on her arms and legs, stayed and it was the only thing she could think about until she heard a man’s voice screaming for help whenever thunder broke through the sky.

“So this whole soulmate thing is real?” Donghyuck asks, tapping his fingers anxiously on the table. “I’m destined to be with her?”

Taeil almost laughs. “You have someone screaming inside your head and you’re more worried about whether she’s your soulmate?”

“I—” The way the blush creeps up Donghyuck’s cheeks is so apparent, it even makes Taeil feel a bit bashful. “It’s just another thing I’ve been wondering about.”

“Why, because she’s not pretty enough for you?”

“It’s not that,” he quickly corrects him, flushed. “She’s cute—she’s too cute, that’s the problem—but she likes someone else and I—" The boy shakes his head, trying to keep his thoughts in check. "You know what? You’re right. We have more important things to talk about.”

Taeil doesn’t hold back his chuckles this time. “Well, I’m not sure if soulmates do exist—I don’t think I’m her soulmate, even when we’ve been together for a year by now—but I guess, we’re bound to fall in love with them when we have this sort of connection.” But when Donghyuck sighs exasperatedly, Taeil solemnly adds, “You gotta be careful, though. There’s a difference between loving someone for who they are, and loving them because you’re driven by the word Soulmate. You just have to make sure that your feelings for her are real, coming from your heart, not from your mind.”

“I—” Donghyuck shrinks a little in his seat. He never looked through that perspective before. 

Noticing how the younger man has grown quiet, Taeil adds, “Don’t sweat it. You’ll know when you know. Or maybe you can work on cutting the bond first. When you’re no longer connected, you’ll know how you really feel toward her.”

Breaking into a cold sweat, Donghyuck loosens his collar. “There’s really a way?”

“Yes.” Taeil nods. “It wasn’t easy at first for me, but this mental bond can be broken. There’s a reason why you two are connected. Somewhere deep down, you’re asking for help and so is she for yours, and you’re matched because you can become each other’s strength to overcome it. First, you have to find the root of your problems then you work it out from there. Your bond will disappear when you manage to accept your fear and overcome your trauma.” Taeil rubs the tip of his nose, a bit twitchy after hearing his own advice. “T-that’s what happened to me anyway.”

It doesn’t make sense at first to Donghyuck but as soon as realization falls upon him, everything comes into place. He remembers how you’ve mentioned several times how much you wish to be like him, to be more open, both to other people and yourself and to be honest without worrying too much. You have a problem in conveying your feelings—your thoughts—and that’s the reason why he can hear yours, so he can represent you and maybe, one day, guide you until you can finally state out your mind, loud and clear, for the whole world to hear. 

As for the matter where you can hear the song that’s playing inside his mind…

Donghyuck curls his fingers into tiny balls of fists. I need to talk to her.

***

You haven’t heard a song playing in your head for the last two days and it’s concerning because this has never happened before. Ever since you met him, you’ve grown to love the way he sounds in your head—even liking his music taste by now, just like how he’s beginning to like yours. As long as he doesn’t play his music too loudly, the humming he does in your mind comforts you, keeping you company in your secluded silence.

Hyuck, are you okay? Talk to me.

But no matter how much you call, you couldn’t get connected, both telepathically or through the phone. His number was out of reach. Losing every contact you have with him in these last two days, as if he never existed in your life when he has certainly become—quite literally—a part of your mind, makes you feel restless.

Hyuck, Where are you? I need to see you.

It’s weird how you’ve harbored such intense feelings toward Jaehyun for years, and yet, you decide to cancel your ‘casual date’ with him just so you can check on Donghyuck, the friend who you met several months ago. It’s even weirder that it feels right to do it.

After swinging by to the coffee shop to ask about him, you received the address to his apartment from Jeno—who, unbeknown to you, kept displaying a knowing smirk whenever Donghyuck’s name escaped your mouth. Decide to think about that later on, you let your legs carry you to his place.

You weren’t nervous on the way there—you were too worried about him to mind your own feelings—but the second you’re standing in front of his door, with a paper bag—full of healthy snacks and several canned coffees that he likes—gathered to your chest, you can hear your heartbeat thrumming loudly in your ears.

Stop being so jumpy. It’s just Donghyuck.  

You repeat that several times in your head and three times more until you can hear someone groaning from the other side of the door. Before you can raise your hand to press his bell, the door swings open, revealing the man you’ve been longing to see with a prominent scowl on his face.

“H-hi…” You gulp, twitching nervously. “I was just in the neighborhood—”

“Ugh, your thoughts are so loud,” he whines, one eye closing in agony as he rubs the side of his head. “I was sleeping before but then you screamed at me.”

You take a step back. Must be because I’m nervous—

“Exactly. Too nervous.” He exhales heavily through his nose as he turns on his heels, walking deeper to his apartment. “Come in. And start talking before I put Nirvana back on and bust both of our eardrums.”

“Umm, I—okay...” You splutter, taking off your shoes. His place smells exactly like him, and it’s so overwhelming—pleasantly so—that you immediately distract yourself by talking out loud. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just tired.” Donghyuck throws himself back on his bed, wearing only a thin layer of white shirt that’s glued to his skin, and black woven boxer shorts that only covered the upper part of his thighs. You try to focus more on his face—you just have to. So you notice the way he has his bangs sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. His cheeks are a bit scarlet, his lips chapped. His golden sun-kissed skin doesn’t really showcase his paleness but it’s noticeable enough for you that he’s ill.

“You don’t look fine.” You immediately kneel on the carpeted floor, your hands settled on the edge of his bed. When he solely responds with a weak wave of his hand, you lean closer to press your palm against the sweaty skin of his temple. “Hyuck, you’re hot!”

“Thanks.”

“I meant, you’re burning up.” Restraining yourself from flicking him between his eyebrows, you let your hand trails down to his cheek, trying to check his body temperature on a different spot.

“Don’t touch me,” Donghyuck flinches, shifting away from your touch. “Your hand’s freezing.”

“Oh…” And it finally sinks in that you are touching him. You were so worried over his well-being that you suddenly had the bravery to invade his personal space, which you usually wouldn’t do under any circumstances. “R-right, I’ll just, umm—have you had something to eat?”

“Just coffee.”

“Since this morning?”

A weak nod and your jaw grows slack on your face. “But it’s five PM—I’ll go and make you something!” All the anxiousness you had before from entering a boy’s apartment for the first time—aside from Jaehyun’s but you’ve grown so accustomed to it since you have been visiting it so many times—just goes straight out of the window. You make yourself comfortable in his kitchen, rummaging through his fridge, shouting, “You literally only have cheese in here!”

“I like cheese.”

Sighing loudly, you slam the door close. “I’m going shopping.”

***

“Does it taste good?” You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, nibbling at it skittishly as you wait for his response. You’ve never cooked for anyone else for as long as you can remember so you can't help but be anxious about it.

Like a child, Donghyuck is slurping down the rest of the chicken porridge you made him to every last drop, wincing a little when it burns his tongue. “If you’d added some cheese in it, I’d give it a ten.”

“Judging by the amount of cheese you have in your fridge, I think you’ve consumed a lifetime's worth of it.”

“Still need more cheese.”

You exhale in defeat. “I’ll make some for your breakfast tomorrow.”

Donghyuck blinks twice. “You’re staying over tonight?”

“Wha—no!” You nearly leap out of your chair. “I mean, like, I’ll wrap it up and store it in the fridge for you to eat tomorrow.”

Donghyuck’s small laughter is always pleasant to your ears but the way his eyes twinkle impishly forces your heart to speed up instead of feeling fuzzy. “You could’ve just spent the night, though. My bed is big enough for the two of us.”

You avert your gaze, both from his face and his bed. “N-no, it’s not.”

“Oh?” Being handsome isn’t his crime, being dangerously seductive with that eyebrow raise of his is. “So if it is big enough, you’ll stay?”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll hear your thoughts anyway.” You smack his head with your spatula, gentle enough that he wouldn’t whine too much about it but hard enough to make a point. When you walk away, he adds, “Thanks for the meal, Sweetheart. I’m glad I’ve been married to you for twenty years. It makes up for the nonexistent sex we have.”

“Ugh, shut up.” It’s stupid that you’re blushing over his lousy joke, even at times like this. Not wanting to stay like that for long, you busy yourself with the dishes, arranging his plates, even organizing the comic books he has on his shelf. It’s not like he’s messy with his place—you would’ve expected a boy’s room to be way messier than this—but you just have to find a way to keep your mind occupied so you don’t think too much about a certain boy whose moles on his neck is getting more and more distracting.

“I thought you were supposed to meet the prick,” Donghyuck says, sitting down on the couch and leaning his head back, his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose. 

“You mean Jaehyun?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “I told him I’d have dinner with him tomorrow.”

“Does he know you’re spending the night in another man’s house?”

“I’m spending the night with a friend.” Then you catch yourself. “Wait, I’m not spending the night!”

“Aah, you’re so cute,” he dreamily says, with a matching dreamy gaze. “I want to have a mini size of you and keep you in my pocket.”

After always being on the receiving side of his snarky remarks, his little praise baffles you. Randomly picking up a book, you flip through the pages so you can hide your eyes behind your bangs. “I haven’t heard you in my head these last two days so I got worried. I thought you were like, dead or something.”

“Yeah, I lost track of time thinking about something so I slept a lot to make up for it. Then I got sick, so I pretty much just passed out for hours.” He yawns, nearly splitting his face in half as he does until tears form in his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it when my head doesn’t feel like it’s seconds away from exploding.”

“You should’ve called me. I could—” You stop yourself, the words are on the tip of your tongue but you’re too embarrassed to say it.

“Take care of me?” Donghyuck helps with a grin. “Like how a girlfriend would? Like what you’re doing now?”

“Like how a friend would.”

Donghyuck hums, finally giving you a break just because he probably notices how you’re about to faint from his lines.

But what kind of thoughts have been bothering him? Is it something so private that he can’t share with you? “I wish I could hear your thoughts,” you confess, placing the book down on your lap. “I want to be able to help you.” 

His eyes soften at your words and he allows a few seconds to pass by in silence just so he can let the words sink deeper in his mind. Donghyuck soon gestures you to sit next to him on the couch and reluctantly, you follow. Lying a palm on top of your head, fingertips dipping into the strands of your hair, he weakly grins at you. “Thank you.”

“F-for what?”

“For saying that sincerely.” He taps the side of his head, gesturing that he read your thoughts. “And for today too. I’m glad you’re here with me." Leaning closer, he asks in a whisper, "Can I hug you?”

As you remain speechless, still taking the time to process what the fuck is he saying, he tugs you closer to his chest, gently circling one arm around your waist and another one cradling your head. The way he lets out a sigh of relief stirs the tiny hairs on your neck, his hot breath fanning your ear.

“Umm, I—” It feels like you’re having a heart attack. “Hyuck—”

“Just for a few seconds more,” he whispers, embracing you tighter, face sinking into the crook of your neck. “Please.”

Your hands are freezing mid-air, not sure where to place them. But when you finally dare to indulge yourself in the comfort of his arms, it feels perfect. “I, uhh…” You laugh a little from being too nervous. “There’s something I want to thank you too. Jaehyun mentioned the other night that I’m more open with my thoughts these days, more straightforward. I think it’s because of you. Spending time with you makes it easier for me to convey my feelings in actual words since you always force me to say more instead of thinking too much. I don’t know if you’ve heard about this in my head but I admire you, Hyuck. Your confidence, your bravery, your lively charm—you’re endearing.” Your fingers are splayed on his back, your sheepish smile brushing against his clothed shoulder. “Honestly, I’m your biggest fan.”

Donghyuck only responds with a quiet hum, the tip of his nose grazing the side of your neck. When you call out his name, he adds, “Next time when you want to compliment me, don’t start with another man’s name.” But he only says that so you won’t be able to notice how heat is rushing to his face.

“I also like the fact that you’re so attentive to other people’s needs,” you giggle when a flashback hits you. “I’ve noticed that whenever I feel so stressed out with my assignments, you always listen to my playlist so I can hear it in my head.”

He snorts. “Your playlist? Bold of you to assume that. I was just listening to mine.”

“So your playlist has a bunch of Emily Coulston’s songs but nothing from Justin Bieber? A truly devoted Belieber like you? Really?”

Donghyuck retaliates by tickling you until you’re out of breath but even then, he still doesn’t let you go, now idly propping his chin on your shoulder, sighing in content when the scent of your shampoo lingers in the air. 

“I made progress the other day,” you say when he finally ends the embrace but his hands are still resting on yours. “There was this girl who sat next to me on the bus, and she read Norwegian Wood—the best book of all time, hands down—and I reached out to her. Told her it was a great book.”

Donghyuck scrunches his nose cutely at you, combining it with a boyish grin. “And what did she say?”

“She said yes, she loved it too." You beam at him. "Aren’t you proud of me?”

Donghyuck won’t admit it out loud but the smile that blooms on your face, both shy and proud, sends butterflies flying in his stomach. His heart flutters at the sound of your bashful giggles, and when he settles his palm on your head, fingers sliding down to tuck a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, his eyes emit so much adoration for you. “I am,” he answers, “I’ve always been.”

There’s no word in your vocabulary that’s jubilant enough to describe the feeling that erupts in your chest when he regards you with those eyes, and you know that neither of you wants to end the moment and lose each other’s touch. It’s until you feel him shivering that you decide to yank yourself away from his embrace, asking, “Hey, are you okay? You’re trembling.”

He forces himself to smile with the little strength he can muster. “I think I need to lay down.”

You nod several times in instant agreement, helping him to stand up on his feet and carry him back to his bed. “Careful,” you warn as he lies down, exhaling heavily when his head sinks into his pillow. “I’ll go buy you some ibuprofen, okay? I’ll be back.”

“No.” He takes a hold of your wrist before you can even take a step away. “I’ve taken some earlier today, so just—” He slides his hand down, fingers slipping between yours. “Stay with me.”

His words. His touch. The expression he has on his face. Everything seems surreal that you find yourself holding your breath. “Hyuck—“

“Just until I fall asleep,” he pleads. “It won’t take long, I promise… Please?”

His eyes are steady as they hold your gaze while yours are shaking, conflicted, flustered. “Okay…”

His smile is delicate, making him look a few years younger especially with his eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “Thanks…” Donghyuck scoots over to the side, making some space that makes you frown. “What?” he asks. “You’re not going to stand there and wait for me, are you? I know you’re obsessing over me on a daily basis but you don’t have to blatantly act like a stalker that you are.”

You sigh, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I see your mouth still running fine.”

He giggles, pulling you down until you lay by his side, involuntarily basking on his intoxicating scent when your head is pressed against his pillow. Shouting his name in sheer embarrassment, you nearly jump out of the bed when he suddenly pins both of your hands down to the sheets, his body hovering above you.

“Now that I get you alone in my bed,” he starts, a naughty smirk breaking on his lips but it gets wiped out instantly when he flinches in pain, falling back to his pillow, eyes tightly shut. “H-headaches,” he says and you roll your eyes, punching him on his shoulder.

“Just sleep, will you?” You’re tired just by seeing his antics. “You can tease me another day so just go to sleep for now.”

He nods. “That’s probably a good idea.” But his hold around your wrist is even firmer. “Stay like this. It’s comforting.”

It’s bad for your heart and you’re also worried that he’ll read your thoughts and know that you—

“Think about whatever you want, I’m too weak to complain,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. “I’ll secretly judge but I won’t complain.”

“Well, I have been complaining about how you’re clingier when you’re sick.” Though it’s somewhat… cute.

Donghyuck smiles, turning his body to his side so he can face you properly. “Ask me that stupid idiom you always said.”

“What? Oh… A penny for your thoughts?”

“This…” His eyes trail down to the part where his fingers nearly brush against yours. He has released his hold from your wrist but none of you has the will to add more space between your hands. “This moment right here is the happiest I’ve ever been in the last few years.” He snuggles close, just enough that you can hear his breathing but with enough distance that you can’t feel his breath grazing your cheek. “Good morning, Sweetheart.”

“It’s still nighttime but—” You chuckle. “Good morning, Hyuck.”

***

On the following day, it surprises you when your legs decide to pivot and drag you toward the opposite direction even when you’re already a ten-minute walk away from your campus. You find yourself standing in front of Donghyuck’s apartment again, and the handsome boy with a mop of unruly brown hair greets you with a smile bright enough to rival the sun.

“I’m feeling better today. Way better,” he crows with a cheeky grin. “But I still need you to take care of me. Will you do me the honor?”

His charm is contagious and you don’t mind being infected by it. “What can you do without me?”

Yesterday, you were a bundle of nerves. Today, it feels like you’re coming home to your family. Donghyuck is so spoiled, adorably so which is weird because for a twenty-one-year-old man acting like a child, whining, teasing, complaining every ten minutes doesn’t really scream attractive, and yet, there you are, fulfilling his ridiculous wishes and smiling earnestly through everything.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, frowning at the sight of him gulping down the rest of his chicken cream soup in one try.

“After all these things you’ve done for me?” He moans at the taste. “I’d even let you marry me.”

By this point, you’ve become unfazed with his constant flirting which makes him pout about it sometimes, grousing how your reaction has become less cute. “How come I hear you singing a lot in my head but not in real life?” You query. “I only heard you sing that one time when we first met.”

You notice how he clenches his jaw at the question, though only for a split second. “Because I hate singing.” He jumps back to his feet and flings himself on the bed. “Now, I’m sleepy. Can you sing for me, please?”

“I think you’re avoiding my question.”

“I’m reaaaallly sleepy,” he exaggerates his whine. “Please? I’ll answer after I got my beauty sleep. I desperately need one. Don’t want to look like you on your best day.” With a bratty grin, he adds. “Cause on your worst day, you’re just ghastly.”

“Thanks.” But like a puppeteer, he always manages to tug on your heartstrings and forces you to comply. Sighing, you sit on the carpeted floor, pressing your spine against the edge of his bed with a book on your lap. 

Donghyuck turns to his side, giggling as he runs his fingers through your strands. “Your hair is so soft.”

“Just go to sleep, Hyuck.”

“I know you’re happy, though. Shall I praise you more?”

“Go to sleep!”

He huffs but settles down on the bed, his fingers no longer caressing your hair. Urging you to sing once more, you warn him that you’re no professional singer and you might sound awful to his ears but Donghyuck simply responds with a yawn. “I’ll be easy on the mockery,” he promises, which doesn’t offer any reassurance at all.

Suddenly being placed under the spotlight, you’re unsure of what song to sing but a song does come into your mind. Letting out a nervous breath, you begin to sing.

At the sound of your voice, Donghyuck freezes at once, his eyes widening in disbelief. Out of all the songs in the world, you have to choose that song—that one song that he never dares to vocalize out loud, too afraid of the memories that will surely resurface inside his head and plunge a javelin into his heart.

Not noticing his expression as you’re still facing away and too busy fiddling with your fingers out of nervousness, you continue singing with a shaky voice. Since you’ve memorized the lyrics by heart from how often the song was performed in your head, you gradually begin to gain confidence with more melody falling from your lips. Donghyuck has become unusually quiet, and it’s weird because you’ve expected him to, at least, make a lousy comment on your awkward performance. Out of curiosity, you turn around to sneak a peek at him.

Donghyuck has turned to his other side, facing the wall and only giving you the sight of the wrinkled shirt that sticks to his back. “Hyuck?”

His answer doesn’t come straight away and when he takes a deep breath, you notice how his shoulders tremble slightly. His voice is wavering, almost like a combination of a quiet sob and a small whimper. You reach out a hand by reflex, trying to make sure what is happening to him but he forces himself to laugh. “That was so awful,” he comments, voice so frail and thin as if it’s seconds away from breaking. “I didn’t sing it that badly in your head, did I?” 

You nearly wince from how terrible his act is. You know he’s hurting somehow, but you understand that ignoring his privacy and forcing him to speak when he’s not ready isn’t the right way to do it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, you’re sure of it.

“Sing it to me again,” he says, voice cracking slightly at the end. “Please.”

After taking a few seconds to brace yourself, you take a seat on the edge of his bed this time, your fingers caressing his locks soothingly as a mother would do to her child. And as you begin to sing once again, the wall that Donghyuck built around him slowly crumbles to dust.

Then he cries.

***

Donghyuck’s eyelids are closed peacefully as he drifts into his dream, but his eyelashes are still wet and warm from the tears that he could no longer contain. 

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream, and Donghyuck curled himself into a ball, his nails sinking into the fabric of his shirt as he hugged himself tight. He cried like a child begging for comfort from his mother, sobbing, shuddering, and breathless from the beginning to the end. You whispered his name, over and over again, as you laid next to him, shifting closer until you could comfort him with his warmth. You wanted him to notice that he wasn’t alone and you held him until his fervent sobs morphed into soft, restrained whimpers. Once the effect of the medicines he took finally kicked in, Donghyuck fell asleep, drowning in the comfort of your arms.

When he wakes up, eyes puffy and cheeks reddening from the memory of how he broke apart in front of you, he can’t meet your eyes. It’s funny that the way you’re behaving at the moment stands in stark contrast to how you usually are—with Donghyuck losing his confidence, twitching under your gaze, while you, on the other hand, manage to maintain your hold on his hand without a quiver running through your fingertips.

“I’ve cooked something for you when you were asleep,” you say when you’re sure he’s composed enough for you to leave him alone. You collect your belongings as you prepare for your leave. “You can re-heat the food later on for dinner.” 

“You’re—“ He clears his throat, scratching the back of his head. “You’re not going to ask about what happened?”

“I’m just gonna wait until you’re ready to say it.” You gently smile. “I’m not going anywhere, Hyuck. You have all the time you need to open yourself to me. And when you’re ready, I’ll be more than glad to listen.”

Donghyuck’s eyes finally attain the courage to peer into yours, but they don’t stay for long. And when he doesn’t utter anything else, you cast one last look over your shoulder before you disappear behind his door. “I’ll wait for you to start singing again.”

He bitterly smiles to himself. “Loudly or in your head?”

“Both.” Unlike his, yours are the warmest he has ever seen displayed on your face. “Goodbye, Hyuck.”

***

A little over a month after that, Donghyuck mentions that he’s heading back to his hometown in Jeju for the weekend and that’s fine, normal. What’s not is the part where he asks you to come with him.

“What—why—” You stammer, taking a step back as blood rushes to your face. “I mean—“

“Stop blushing like that, you’re gonna make this weird!” He complains, but the way he looks just as flushed makes you blush even harder. “Look, there’s a reason why I want you to come—as friends, mind you—so could you not overthink about it and just play along?”

“But—” You’re feeling dizzy at this point. “How are you going to introduce me to your family?”

“My family isn’t going to be there. They’ll be spending a night at my aunt’s place.”

We're going to be ALONE?!

"Ouch, hey!" Donghyuck flinches in pain, slamming both hands on each side of his head. "Can you stop screaming in my head?"

"S-sorry." You fix your collar, feeling like you're stepping inside a sauna when it's literally snowing outside your building. “And why aren’t you coming with them?”

“‘Cause I hate family gatherings,” he spits out bitterly. “And by this point, my parents know better not to force me to come so they just asked me to look after the house.”

No, but spending the whole weekend in an empty house? That smells just like him? Only the two of us?!

“Yah!” He flicks your forehead without warning. “I said, don’t make this weird!”

“But this is weird!” It burns, actually, the spot he just hit so you rub your temple vigorously. “I’m not even your girlfriend—”

“Nobody is saying that you’re my—ugh, God! Just take this!” He not-so-gently slams an airplane ticket to your face. “I already bought that so you can’t say no. I know you don’t have anything planned this weekend anyway.”

“Actually, I’m—”

“How many times do I have to remind you that I can read your thoughts?” He pinches both of your cheeks at the same time, pulling on the skin until you whine. But when he notices how truly uncomfortable you are with the whole thing, his eyes begin to droop, gaze softening. “Look,” he starts, gentler this time as he moves his hand to your head. “I know this makes you feel uneasy, but it has something to do with our mental bond. I’ve found a way to work it out but to do that, I need you to trust me.” He bends down to match your height, leaning closer until your forehead is only a few inches away from pressing against his. “Can you do this for me?”

His face is so close, too close, that you can count his eyelashes if you want to. “O-okay…”

You have a hard time holding eye contact with him but did his eyes just shift down to your lips right before you break it? 

“Good then,” he says, returning the comfortable space that you need. “I’ll see you this weekend. Pack up some warm clothes.” And he walks away without looking back, rubbing the back of his nape that slightly turns scarlet. 

But maybe it’s just because of the cold. 

***

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” you say, not sure where to stare at when Jaehyun leans against his doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking so damn handsome without trying. “You really don’t have to cook for me every night. I could do it myself.”

“I don’t mind.” He smiles, amused to see you twitching around on your feet. “It’s always better to have dinner with someone rather than eating alone.”

“That’s great…” Once you bore your eyes in his, it’s hard to break away and suddenly, everything fades into a blur. You shake your head to snatch yourself back from your reverie. “Anyway, I’m going on a trip this weekend so, umm, I won’t be able to hang out with you.” A realization dawns on you, making you blurt out in a hurry. “I—I don’t know why I'm telling you this, it’s not like we’ve made a promise to see each other every weekend—”

“With who?” Your ears perk up more at the tone he’s using than his words.

“Umm… Donghyuck.”

“The same Donghyuck you’ve been seeing a lot these days?”

“I—I won’t say a lot. We just meet each other over coffee from time to time,” you ramble, playing with the hem of your knitted sweater this time from not being able to handle his sudden intense gaze. He sounds unusually protective, like a father asking his daughter when she came home hours after curfew. “But yes…”

“I see," he solemnly replies. “How long?”

“I’ll be back by Sunday night. W-why?”

“No reason.”

“Okay…” The tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating you. Can’t find the courage to ask why he was asking you such questions, you decide to turn around and head back to your place. “Thanks again, for, uhh, dinner. Good ni—”

“Must you go?” He suddenly asks, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks. “Can’t you just stay here with me?”

“I…” You can’t decipher his expression. It’s the first time he’s ever looked that way. It reminds you of the way Donghyuck always looked whenever you mentioned Jaehyun’s name out of the blue. “I can’t… I’ve promised him I’d go.”

Jaehyun sees something in your eyes that brings him back to reality, quickly gathers himself together, and smiles the way he always smiles—warm and beautiful. Only this time, it seems lonely. “You’re right, sorry." He retracts his hand, his warmth still somehow lingers on your skin. "That was out of line. I hope you have a nice trip.”

You can only nod. “Well, uhh… Good night.”

“Good night.”

***

Donghyuck hates it. He hates how easily Jaehyun can morph every picture of him in your head to his dimpled smile just by speaking a few sentences. He hates how Jaehyun has so many effects on you without trying when Donghyuck has to give his all for you to notice him. And he fucking hates the way your thoughts are now filled with joy knowing that Jaehyun wanted you to stay with him when you were supposed to be thinking about spending your nights alone with the boy who could read your thoughts.

“Stupid cheesy bastard with his stupid cheesy lines,” Donghyuck grumbled at the ceiling of his room. Exhaling loudly, he grabs his phone, tapping a message, “Pick your choice: Slipknot’s Solway Firth or Metallica’s Cyanide.”

Oh shit, he must have heard me. Donghyuck rolls his eyes at your thoughts. Hey, Hyuck. For what?

“For your final song. Im’ma wreck both of our eardrums.”

I’m sorry. I was being loud, huh? I’ll try to keep my thoughts in check. Spare me tonight, please? I feel like my heart is gonna give up on me, honestly.

Donghyuck doesn’t text back. Instead, he tosses his phone on the bed and drowns himself in his pillow. “Idiot.”

***

“Stop looking so tense, you’re making me feel tense,” Donghyuck complains as he bumps his shoulder against yours. The plane took off smoothly but the little turbulence that occurs almost every ten minutes makes you fidget on your seat, your fingers clawing against your jean-clad thighs. You’ve never flown in the snow before and even when the stewardess regularly assures the passengers that it’s largely safe to fly in, you can’t help but be anxious about it.

“Yes, thinking about falling from the plane, thirty thousand feet without a parachute does help with your anxiety.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes when you’re busy thinking about the worst that could happen. “If you don’t stop shouting in my head in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna have to hold your hand until we land.”

“What?!” You shriek, flustered by the thought but Donghyuck only shrugs, puts on his headphones, and plugs the jack into his phone. 

Has he switched his phone to airplane mode? What if he forgot? Should I—

“Oh my dear God,” he loudly groans, “Yes, I’ve switched it to airplane mode. Even if I haven’t, one phone isn’t going to suddenly make this plane combust into flames!” He reaches out a hand, slipping his fingers between yours in the way that feels so natural, it’s weird. Holding them mid-air, he grumbles. “There. Your consequence. Now you’re just gonna have to think about me until we’re back on the ground.”

Mouth agape with incredulity, you can only lay still on your seat and, as he’s expected, begin to think about how in the world are you going to survive this whole trip with him being like this? You can feel his warmth seeping into your skin, the texture of his palm, his lean fingers...

Donghyuck secretly smiles, pleased with the sight of you panicking over your intertwined fingers but not as much as he is with the fact that he gets to be this close to you for the next half an hour. Running his thumb along the screen of his iPhone, he shuffles through his playlist and just realizes that half of the songs he has in his phone suits your taste more than his own. The fact that he just realizes it now startles him even more.

“Since when do you listen to The Smiths?” You ask as the song that goes through his ears rings inside your head too. 

“Since birth,” Donghyuck mutters. There’s no way in hell he’d say that he’s been adding slow songs from your favorite indie rock bands to his playlist for your sake.

You scrunch up your nose at his response but soon begin to relax as you focus on the song more than his breathing. The lyrics of a man secretly admiring a woman he’s in love with makes you wonder about Jaehyun but it gradually changes when you taste a spark of Donghyuck’s perfume and suddenly, you’re conscious of how his hand is holding yours again. How, without his gloves, his palm feels a bit calloused. His fingers are warm and longer than yours but slightly thinner. And when you secretly glance to the side, noticing that he has his eyes closed, his breathing steady with his lips slightly parted as he drifts into his dreamland, you allow yourself to stop and stare for a little longer. The shape of his nose is adorable. His lips are naturally pouty and he looks so young, almost angelic, a stark contrast to how demonic he can be when he’s awake. You know you’re being too close when you can faintly smell his shampoo at this point but he’s so intriguing that it’s almost impossible to stop.

Until he shifts in his sleep and you nearly die from a heart attack.

Stop it. What are you even doing, smelling a boy’s hair like that? You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. The sound of an acoustic guitar slowly puts your mind at ease and it’s so convenient to be able to hear the songs you love without needing to put your AirPods on. But the thing you love the most is the fact that he knows your favorite songs by heart and often sings them unconsciously in his mind. You adore these songs for many kinds of reasons but having him sing the songs you love in your head is something you never want to be traded with anything in the world.

With a smile on your face, you thank him by squeezing his hand, but Donghyuck doesn’t budge, only snoring slightly.

Not long after, just like him, you’re lulled to sleep. 

Except, Donghyuck has been awake the entire time, only pretending to be asleep because he knows you’ve been stealing glances at him. The way his stomach somersaulted when you took a sniff of his hair is something he will only confess to you over his dead body. His heart jolts a little when your head falls on his shoulder, murmuring something inaudible under your breath as you lose track of the world. 

“Ah, fuck, I think I’m going insane,” he curses in a whisper. “How can you be this cute, honestly—”

“A blanket, Sir?” A flight attendant chimes in, and this time he curses rather loudly.

“Oh—” He quickly gathers himself. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

“For your girlfriend, perhaps?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks are reddening in an instant. “She’s—” But when he looks at the way you’re leaning toward him, your hand in his, he thinks, we do look like a couple, don’t we? And even just the thought of it warms his chest. “Yes, one for—” He gulps. “M-my girlfriend.”

“You guys are so cute.” The way the stewardess hands him the blanket with a knowing smile strapped on her lips makes him blush even harder. “Enjoy your flight.”

“You are seriously driving me insane,” Donghyuck says, covering half of your body with the blanket. His eyes are filled with nothing but admiration when he adds, “Idiot.”

As he rests his head on top of yours, with the song resonating through your ears and his, Donghyuck has the biggest smile plastered on his face, blooming with joy that he will keep as a secret until you’re brave enough to confess yours out loud. 

*** 

Donghyuck is more nervous having you step inside his childhood home more than you are, which is supposed to be hilarious considering how aggressively he’d invited you before, but in reality, it only makes you feel seconds away from vomiting your heart out of your mouth. The house smells pleasantly like a mix of sandalwood and jasmine which should effectively calm your nerves but it only makes you feel lightheaded. The steps you take echo through the entire house, making it impossible to think about anything else other than the fact that there are only the two of you here for the whole weekend. 

“My room is, umm, upstairs.” Donghyuck untangles his scarf from his neck, his teeth slightly chattering from the cold. But if you were a tad more perceptive, you'd know that his cheeks are reddening for an entirely different reason. “You can take my sister’s room if you like. It’s next to mine.” 

You nod and Donghyuck, who has been looking anywhere but your eyes for almost the whole trip there, finally gains the courage to take a glimpse at you. His shoulders sag a little, eyebrows adjoining in the middle in concern at the sight of you. “Look at you,” he comments, closing the space between you with every stride of his long legs until his fingers are chasing snow off your strands. “Your hair is a mess. Didn’t you wear a beanie before?”

“Yeah, but I lost it when—” You hold your breath when his touch slowly becomes tender with each movement. His fingers slip between your locks before they go down to remove the wooly scarf that has been keeping your neck warm. The way his eyes are perceiving yours so intensely makes you feel like he’s undressing your entire clothing when he has barely taken off your coat yet. You can only stand still as your thoughts begin to run without control. The word why and what are the ones that appear the most.

Even if he can read your mind, he doesn’t indulge himself with your thoughts. His hand goes back to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone while the other one is sneaking around your waist. “H-Hyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are half-lidded, unfocused and everything seems to vanish into a blur when he suddenly leans in, his lips ghosting against your cheek as he pulls you into an embrace. He murmurs your name, slowly, alluringly, and you can feel his breath on your jawline before—

A yelp escapes your lips when Donghyuck sinks his teeth in your clothed shoulder, hard enough to inflict pain but gentle enough to not leave any bruises. He grins from ear-to-ear when you push him away, mocking you with, “What, did you think I was going to kiss you?”

Face aflame, you curl your fingers into tiny balls of fists. “You’re so dead!” 

But that stupid antic of his manages to break the tension and you can finally breathe in ease. The old Donghyuck is back and he makes fun of you whenever he has the chance and it’s okay. It’s better for your heart this way. 

Before you two head upstairs, Donghyuck insists to have something to eat even when he has practically inhaled a whole sandwich just an hour ago. He tells you to wait as he takes care of the cooking and honestly? By the smell of it, you can’t find anything to complain about.

“What are we having for dinner?” You ask as you take a seat on the dining table, your chin lying idly on your palm with your elbow propped on the surface.

“If we were dating, I would say you,” he says, which you respond with a kick to his shin. Donghyuck is sitting right next to you, an apron wrapped around his waist, a phone in his hands as he waits for the pasta to boil. “But since we’re enemies, I’d say Chicken Scampi Pasta for me, and a gallon of tears for you since you’re salty all the time, you must be dehydrated.”

“Thanks.”

But when he’s finished, Donghyuck lays down a plate of your most favorite dish in the world, along with a cup of silky smooth caramel pudding that he stole from the fridge. He doesn’t reflect your smile when you practically thank him with teary eyes, only harshly muttering, “I know you order this every time we eat outside so I’m trying to make you eat this as much as I can until you vomit to death.”

He’s an excellent cook, and the more you spend your time with him, surrounded by his childhood memories, the more you notice that he’s more than you thought he could ever be. From the pictures you’ve seen hanging on the walls, you could tell how much his family is proud of him—how much he’s surrounded by love growing up. He’s popular, and in every photo, his presence is blinding, always standing as the center of attention. 

“Stop staring at them, I used to have a lousy haircut,” he comments, tugging you away from the wall by the back of your collar. “Let’s go to my room, I have something to show you.”

“I think you looked great with a bowl cut. Would it ever make a comeback?”

“Maybe, when Jaehyun finally kisses you. Which would be never.”

A smack to the head is necessary at times like this, and Donghyuck deserves it, at least, twice.

The scent of sandalwood instantly vanishes without a trace the second you enter his room. It smells exactly like him, like his apartment, like his clothes, like his hair—

“You smelled my hair?” Donghyuck frowns at you, though he secretly knew all along. “When? When I was asleep on the plane? Eew, gross.”

You wince in pain when his words made you stumble and inadvertently hit the back of your head against the door. “Please don’t do that.”

“That’s my line, idiot.” Huffing, he casts his bag to the bed without care, before plopping down to join and snuggle with his pillow. “Aaah, my love, I’ve missed you!”

You ignore him and take a little tour, scanning your eyes from one corner of the room to another. Unlike his apartment that’s designed like a typical gamer room, this one looks more like a mini music studio. There’s an upright piano with a collection of Michael Jackson’s vinyl records strapped against the wall above it. Pictures of him winning various kinds of music competitions are displayed in frames, with a poster of Queen glued above his headboard.

His knowledge and love for music are riveting, and you feel even more confused because if he loves music this much why does he never talk about it? Why have you never seen him play? Or sing something out loud?

“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Donghyuck confesses and you draw your eyes back to him. His smile is weary, shoulders hunching from exhaustion but you doubt it’s because of the trip. He takes a seat at the piano and asks for you to follow with a nod of his head. When you sit next to him, Donghyuck lifts the fallboard but his fingers freeze when he lays them on the keyboards.

You wait, somehow a bit nauseous from seeing how nervous he is, and you keep yourself mute until you see shivers running through his fingertips. “Hyuck? You okay?”

“Sorry,” he laughs so awkwardly it almost makes you flinch from how desperate he’s trying to act casual about it. “It’s just been a while since I played, so—” He takes a deep breath. “Let me try again.”

Somehow, the situation—the tension, the suspense—feels like you’re watching him trying to diffuse a bomb instead of pressing a key on a piano that he’s owned for years. Donghyuck’s bottom lip is turning white from how deep he’s sinking his teeth into the supple skin—an attempt to stop his fingers from shaking.

Aiming to reduce the tension, you place your hands on the keyboards, imitating his position. “I’ve never played piano in my life, can you teach me?”

Donghyuck blinks, finally manages to swallow down the breath that’s been hitching on his throat. “Oh, umm—“ He clears his throat. “Yeah, sure… Anything you want to learn in particular?”

“I don’t know. Just pick a random chord for me.”

“Okay, well…” He’s so hesitant with his words like a student having a stage fright before his first presentation. His action speaks that he’s in a dire need of consolation but you’re not sure what to give. “First, you gotta—c-can I touch your hand? It’s easier that way.”

Your heart aches a little bit because in normal circumstances—from how much he has been constantly flirting with you—Donghyuck would never even think about asking that kind of question. “Sure.”

Donghyuck’s hand is icy cold and damp from nervous sweat when he presses his palm against the back of your hand, his fingers guiding yours to hit the right keys. “So this is a G.” He places your thumb on a white key, “this is a B,” he guides your middle finger this time, “and this is a D,” he lifts your pinky finger. “By pressing all three at the same time, you’ll get a G Major. But it can be played in different inversions.”

You notice how the tremble in his voice has begun to recede albeit only slightly. “Okay, what else?”

“Then, C Major would be…”

The way his shoulders start to loosen up little by little with more seconds he spends teaching you the basic notes, makes your own body relax a little. He was so tense before that it felt like the air was suffocating you as well. “You’re good at this,” you praise as he teaches you the next chord.

“At playing the piano?” He chuckles lightly. “Or teaching you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“You haven’t even seen me played yet.”

“I'd love to.” Stunned at your words, you repeat, "I would love to hear you play, Hyuck."

His fingers stop, slowly detaching themselves from yours. “I just…” He brings his eyes down to the keyboards but his hands are nowhere near them. “I’m too scared.”

His voice is quiet, so quiet, that you have to shift closer to hear him better. “Hyuck,” you whisper, your hand finding its way back to his, squeezing him tightly with your warmth. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Donghyuck looks startled before he melts into a benign smile. “Fine, but only this time.” 

His story starts with the name Mark Lee rolling off his tongue and somehow, you’re not surprised. What surprises you, and worries you, is the way Donghyuck talked about him as if he was only a memory and nothing more.

“In a way, yes,” he says, reading your thoughts. “Since he died two years ago.”

“I’m—” Your body jolts as a pang begins to form inside your chest. “I’m sorry…”

Donghyuck smiles wearily, placing his palm above your head, slightly patting your hair. “Thanks.” When he drags it away, he lets his fingers card through your strands a bit longer than he’s supposed to. “Mark... wasn’t just a friend—I lied before when you asked me about him. He was my cousin but he’d lived with my family since we were kids. His parents had to work overseas and he didn’t want to go with them, saying that all of his friends were here, as if he couldn’t make any friends over there.” Donghyuck scoffed but there was nothing but a longing sadness behind his tone. “He was so stupid.”

“He seemed endearing to me.” 

“Literally everybody thought so too,” he continued, “Which used to piss me off so much especially when Mom always took his side whenever we fought—over her own son, can you believe that?”

The way Donghyuck described Mark was filled with adoration, though his choice of words could be better. And their friendship was even more adorable, which almost made you jealous of how lucky he is to be able to experience such kind of bond. Donghyuck tells you how much he spent his childhood days with Mark, even when the latter was a year older than him. They bickered more often than not—they liked different TV shows, fought over who won and who cheated every time they played games, but if there was one thing they had in common, it was their taste in music. And that was enough. That became their everything.

Mark’s only dream was to become a professional songwriter and he wanted Donghyuck to sing all of his songs. The younger boy was more than eager to fulfill his wishes as that was everything for Mark, and Mark was everything for him.

“There was this dumb thing he said to me,” Donghyuck says, chuckling but his eyes speak loneliness. “I’ve played this song over and over in my head before I wrote it down on papers, and yet it didn’t sound near as beautiful when I heard you sing it. I wrote the song but you make it yours.”

You warmly smile. “That sounds nice.”

“That sounds sappy and cliché.” Donghyuck scoffs, but you know how much he misses the boy who praised him with such gentle words. “But the thing with Mark is that he always spoke what came to his mind. His words were always sincere and I can’t remember when was the last time he lied to me. He probably never did.”

Mark once mentioned that Donghyuck was born to perform, and young Donghyuck at that time, who was more into soccer than anything else, only snorted at the thought but Mark never gave up in convincing him to sing. Not long after that, Mark’s dream of performing the songs he wrote to a crowd filled with faceless strangers became his own dream too. Mark was the reason why he stood on the stage, and Donghyuck was the reason why Mark spent endless nights scribbling down chords and lyrics that he created in his head.

Donghyuck was in a school band and he did a lot of cover songs during festivals and homecoming parties but as they went to different high schools, Mark could never accompany him on stage. He would always ask to see the video afterward though—or see him in person if possible—and complain every time Donghyuck flirted with the crowd, saying, “Was the wink really necessary?” Which Donghyuck simply responded by throwing yet another exaggerated wink at the man.

By the time Mark entered college, he moved out of Donghyuck’s house to stay at the dorm and although the younger man felt abandoned, he forced himself to smile because, in the end, they knew how they both had their separate lives to live for. 

Donghyuck’s band was invited to perform at the graduation party and that would be his last one performing in front of his colleagues. Wanted to make it memorable, Donghyuck asked to perform one of Mark’s handwritten songs and the rest of his members agreed in a heartbeat after they listened to it. Donghyuck was proud of Mark, he had always been, and he wanted to show just how talented and wonderful he was to the rest of the world.

He kept it a secret from the older boy, though. He wanted Mark to be surprised, gaping at him with his jaw dropping to the floor when people cheered for the song he wrote. Donghyuck was pestering him non-stop about it, and with a laugh, Mark promised he would come to his graduation party. Donghyuck practiced harder than he ever did in his life. He wanted everything to be perfect since it would be the first time for Mark’s song to be released in public.

But Mark arrived two hours after Donghyuck’s band had left the stage. And to make it even worse, he was drunk to his core. Donghyuck was so furious, he spent the entire night avoiding him. With so much rage running through his veins, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back his temper if he saw Mark grinning at him like the drunk man that he was.

Donghyuck twists his wrist so he can lace your fingers with his lean ones, and although you stiffen at the sight of how your hand fits his perfectly, your mind focuses more on his story as he continues. “I remember him saying, “What are you so upset about? I promise I’d come to your graduation party and here I am!” And I know how it was unfair for me to be mad about it but I was just so, so angry at that time. Not seeing me perform on stage was one thing, but showing up late at one of the most important nights in my life, drunk?” His grip around you tightens. “And when I asked him the reason why he was late, he had this stupid fucking grin on his face and answered ‘this really cute girl I’ve been crushing on asked me to meet her at a bar, so I did, and guess what? She kissed me.’”

But when Donghyuck’s voice breaks, it’s not because of the anger that bubbles up in his chest. It’s because of the guilt and agony, of how much he hates himself for the things he said to the other male that night. 

Donghyuck hangs his head low, his bangs covering his eyes. His hand is no longer tangled to yours. “I punched him in the face when we reached the parking lot. I remember how shocked he looked when blood trickled down from his nose. I was too, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. But when I was about to take off, he tackled me and—” Donghyuck slips his fingers between his strands, tugging hard at his locks. “I said things I didn’t mean to say. I just really, really wanted to hurt him that time. God, I—”

You reach out a hand toward him, desperate to give him the solace he needs. “Hyuck—”

“I told him I hated him,” Donghyuck confesses, his hands intertwined in front of his face as if he’s praying. “I told him how he always took the spotlight from me, always thinking about himself first, and how he was never there when I needed him. But it’s not true—I didn’t mean any of that—but I remember how I said those words to him. I remember the pain in his eyes when he heard them. And I remember how he just didn’t say anything—just going back to his car, driving away without glancing back at me. And I remember how his car smashed right into a van, right in front of my eyes.”

Your breath is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I should’ve taken him home—” Donghyuck is breathing fast, half of his face is covered by his hands. “I shouldn’t have let him drive on his own when he was that intoxicated. I did that to him. I let him die—”

His hands are on his lap, trembling as he stares at them as if they were the ones who caused Mark’s death. You hold them tightly with your own but no matter how many times you call out his name, Donghyuck is lost in his thoughts.

“I remember how I froze, couldn’t believe my eyes, couldn’t believe that it was real. The sound of the accident was so loud and then it was nothing. Nothing at all. I ran and ran, and didn’t stop even when it felt like my lungs were catching on fire. A patrolling police car came just a few seconds before I managed to get there and by the time I was close enough to see, Mark was—”

Donghyuck abruptly covers his mouth, coughing fervently and the memory must have been so painful for him that only by retaining a speck of it made him nearly vomit his insides. You lean in to pry his hands away from his face and bring him closer until you’re chest-to-chest, murmuring soothing words in his ears until his frantic breathing gradually becomes slower. He holds you tighter around the waist, face sinking into the crook of your neck like when he held you the first time, only now, you can feel that his cheeks are wet, aligned with the tears he’s been trying to fight back. He’s sobbing so quietly as if it was a sin to scream the pain that’s been filling his chest out loud. His whole body trembles and as if he thought you were slipping away, he embraces you tighter, and tighter, until it becomes a hurdle to breathe properly.

But you won’t let him go, not until he can smile as brightly as the sun once again.

“I’m sorry…” Is the first thing Donghyuck says after he has enough power to break away from you. The way he immediately turns around, hiding his face as he rubs his nape awkwardly lets you know just how embarrassed he is from letting his emotions take control. 

“It’s okay.” You’re smiling to yourself as you ruffle his hair. Donghyuck stiffens at the touch and he slowly reaches up to take hold of your hand, bringing it down to his lap as he turns to face you once more. 

“I always feel like I’m not being fair to him,” Donghyuck whispers, closing his eyes, eyebrows furrowing in pain. “Whenever I try to sing out loud, I feel like I shouldn’t. Because music brings me joy, even after all this time—even after all that happened, it still does. And I shouldn’t be happy, not after what I’ve done to him.”

“It was an accident, Hyuck—”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if I had enough sense to act as the better man that night. I shouldn’t have let him go, yet I did.”

You are both in the same age, yet, as he gazes at you with his nose going red at the tip, his eyes still red and a bit watery, he appears like a small, fragile boy. Now that he’s stripped naked from his charisma and confidence, he’s nothing more but a vulnerable, lost young man, helplessly searching for a way to glue the shattered pieces of his heart back into one. 

You feel so honored to be the one he tells these things to. And you adore him—adore the way he accepts his mistakes, adore the way he sacrifices so much of his happiness for someone who’s no longer able to appreciate it. Adore the way he can love someone this intensely, even when the memories of them choke the air out of his lungs. Adore the way that even when time has passed, he’s still looking for someone to forgive him and give back his purpose to live.

That’s right. A purpose.

“I’m in no position to say this,” you say and try your best to focus even when Donghyuck’s thumb is caressing the back of your hand. “But if I were him, I would tell you to stop blaming yourself and move on. I would want you to be happy, to play more music until it’s enough to cover for us both. And I wouldn’t want you to stop especially when it was so important for us.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “He was the reason why I enjoyed music so much and I took everything from him.”

“Then find another reason,” you insist, leaning closer so he has no other choice but to lock his eyes with yours. “If you can’t sing for yourself, then sing for me. Whenever it feels too much, you can stop anytime you want but know that I’ll be waiting for you.” Donghyuck’s lips are slightly parted, but no words come out so you continue with yours. “I’ll wait for you, Lee Donghyuck, no matter how long it takes for you to be brave enough to hear your voice. I’ll be waiting to hear you sing.” You cup his cheek, rubbing comforting circles on his cheekbone with your thumb, smiling tenderly at him. “And seeing you smile that stupid, annoying grin of yours as you do it.”

Donghyuck doesn’t utter a word but his delicate, sheepish smile speaks more than enough. There’s a few seconds of silence where both of you just sink in each other’s comfort and small touches but the tension gets heavier when you’ve become conscious of how close his face is being and how his eyes drift down to your lips—

“A-anyway—” You jump back to your feet, breaking away to catch a breath you desperately need. “I need to go take a shower.”

Aware of the intimate moment you just shared with him before, Donghyuck awkwardly clears his throat. “Sure, uhh—yeah. Me too. I’ll see you downstairs in an hour? We can, umm—“ He scratches the back of his head, gulping hard. “We can watch a movie or something.”

“S-sounds nice.”

***

“Well, don’t you look comfy,” Donghyuck coos with his signature grin when he sees you walking down the stairs about an hour later. Like you, his hair is still damp from the shower, slightly slicked back after he runs a hand through his locks. He’s dressed cozily in a grey sweater and a pair of black sweatpants, sniffling from the cold as he wanders to your spot. You catch a scent of aftershave hanging in the air between you, and a bit of his minty toothpaste when he calls your name. He leans closer and you shut your eyes in reflex, even when you’re not sure what to anticipate. Lips nearly grazing your earlobe, he whispers, “Stop looking at me like you have a crush on me or I’ll attack you for real.”

“I don’t—” But Donghyuck easily dodges your poor attempt at punching his stomach. As you’re busy trying to recollect the little pride you have left, he ruffles your hair, breezily saying, “Cute pajamas, by the way,” before he tugs you by the wrist and leads you to his living room.

It’s funny that when he acts flirty, it’s easier for you to wave him off and treat his words as another joke you can dismiss. But when he's touching you so naturally like this, your heart palpitates. Donghyuck seems more relaxed now that you’re munching on a bowl of popcorn—that you successfully stole from his lap—and mocking him over his taste in movies. “The Kissing Booth? Really?”

“Then, be my guest.” He throws the remote to your lap, pouting. “Please.”

You sneer. “You really like that movie, don’t you?”

“Shut up.”

In the end, after switching from one channel to another, you both decide to watch re-runs of the fifth season of Vikings—which isn’t a bad thing at all, but somehow, Donghyuck is sitting way too close to you—even when the couch still has room for two people more—and you’re more aware of how many breaths he takes in a minute compared to the actual plot of the show.

“What about you?” Donghyuck suddenly asks as he takes a few popcorns into his hand. “What’s your story? Something must have happened since you’re connected to me.”

“Nothing happened to me,” you say and when Donghyuck gives you a look, you add, “I’m being honest. But that’s the problem, I guess. Nothing ever happened to me. I have no friends, have no family that cares enough to make a phone call once a week to check on my condition, no hobby, probably no purpose in life too. I’m just kinda living through each day, doing nothing memorable, just normal, boring stuff.”

“Except thinking about your stupid neighbor.”

“The reason why he even came into my life was because my parents forced him to look after me from time to time. I doubt he’d pay any attention to me otherwise.”

Donghyuck hums. “But deep down you want to change?”

You pause, musing on his words that echoed through your mind. You deliberately nod, nibbling at the corner of your lip. “Yes. I don’t want to live like this forever. I want to share my moments with someone—the things I like, the things I hate, and I want them to share theirs too. Being alone is fine but…” Your hold around the bowl tightens. “I can’t stand being lonely.”

It strikes Donghyuck too close to home. Like you, he’s fine on his own, but every time he remembers that Mark is no longer here to reciprocate his nonsensical words, he can barely function—drowning too deep in loneliness, snatched away from his light. You, on the other hand, are waiting for someone to shine their lights on you and steal you away from the shadows you’ve been burying yourself in.

“I just want my presence to mean something,” you quietly vocalize, “I want to be remembered by someone—in a good way.”

“You mean something to me,” he says, with all the seriousness he can muster, so much that it doesn’t fit his personality. “I... That time when I was sick and you came by to visit me, I thought I was lucky to have someone by my side. To have you."

You swallow thickly, slightly abashed. "Thanks. You don't need to cheer me up like that though."

"I mean it," he affirms, "Stop thinking so lowly of yourself. You're amazing the way you are. And if you think the same about me, if you're satisfied with me, I want to be able to remember you—remember us—this thing we have, this connection between us—” He finally looks to the side, catching your eyes. “I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I’m glad that you’re the person I’m bonded with. I wouldn’t have traded you with anyone else.”

You’re going insane. You know you shouldn’t feel like this, especially when he can hear every bit of your thoughts, but you can’t control the way your heart rate soars whenever he steals glances at you with that look on his face. 

When you avert your gaze, cheeks burning, Donghyuck chuckles, “So cute.” Which you respond by throwing popcorn to his face. But maybe it’s just because of the situation—two friends spending a night alone watching TV on one of the coziest couches you’ve ever been on, after spending intimate moments of sharing painful, traumatic memories—yes, obviously, it’s just because of that and nothing more. Don’t you already have Jaehyun to think about?

When your phone rings, clattering on the table, you nearly faint from the shock. Exhaling heavily, you check your phone, blinking twice when the name Jaehyun pops up on your screen.

“Speak of the Devil, huh?” Donghyuck comments, somewhat coldly but you shot him a glare, telling him to stop reading my mind, asshole. 

Usually, you’d pick up without hesitation so it surprises you when you keep your phone pressed against your lap. 

“You really should answer it. Your ringtone is damn annoying.”

“But I’m watching a show,” you reply as if that makes sense. “And eating popcorns. I can’t talk with popcorns in my mouth.”

“You’re literally talking now.” Donghyuck sighs but the icy tone in his voice has morphed back into his cheery, teasing one. “He hasn’t seen you for a day and he already calls you twice? Dude’s pretty possessive.”

“He’s just worried since he knew I was going out of town. I’ll text him later. Just one more episode.”

Donghyuck is reclining on his seat, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Seems like you two are inseparable these days.”

“He’s just trying to be nice.” You try to act nonchalant, even when the topic makes you feel queasy. “He introduced me to his friends last month too, I don’t know if you—”

“Of course I knew that. You kept yapping inside my head about it.”

“Okay, sorry.” But his attitude doesn’t make you feel too sincere with your apology. “It still feels weird to be talking to a whole new group of people but they’re so nice. I like hanging out with them.”

“And now you’re avoiding his call because…?”

“Because he can wait,” you firmly state, peering into his eyes. “I’ve promised to spend the weekend with you and I intend to keep that promise.”

There’s a trace of blush on his cheeks but maybe it’s just because of the lighting. Smirking, he purrs, “My prince. The love of my life. The butter to my bread—”

“Shut up.”

“Wait, but that can also be a pick-up line! As in, I’ll let you butter my bread—”

You stuff a handful of popcorns into his mouth until he chokes and has no other options but to spit them out entirely. But what follows after that is silence, hanging around like an old friend until the credits roll. Noticing that Donghyuck practically has his head on your shoulder, you decide to bail before your thoughts begin to scream nonsense at you again. “I really should go back to my room—I mean, your sister’s room—” You mentally slap yourself from being so skittish over nothing. “We should get some sleep.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, yet neither of you leaves the room. You don’t even have the will to lift your leg. The remote is in Donghyuck’s hands and instead of turning it off, he shyly smiles at you, “Or maybe just one more? I don’t know about you, but I gotta know who gets to have sex with who on the next episode.” 

"We're watching about men fighting for their lives and that's what you want to know?"

"I gotta know whose boobs I'm going to see next."

Despite his horrible attempt in convincing you, you can’t find the strength to decline his offer. Donghyuck gives you enough space for you to sit on, but you’re still conscious of the way your hand is almost touching his. Just when the thought enters your mind, Donghyuck reaches out to close the gap, his palm covering the back of your hand, his fingers sliding against yours. 

You gulp but don’t pull away. “I-I thought I’ve asked you not to read my thoughts.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, eyes locked to the screen. “I’m just doing what I’ve been wanting to do.” 

And it doesn’t matter that friends don’t hold hands at 2 AM watching TV shows that none of you cares about. It doesn’t matter that friends don’t think about each other’s scent or the color of your lipstick this much. Status does not matter as much as the comfort and the connection you two feel for each other. No one can share this, no one can have this. This moment only belongs to you and him.

With more seconds go by, the more his hand on yours feels natural and as you bask in his warmth, your eyes begin to droop, heavy with sleep. Donghyuck notices you’re drifting away when your head falls on his shoulder. He gently shakes you awake but you don’t budge, mouth slightly parting. Donghyuck smiles to himself, his eyes softening at the sight of you. “Idiot.”

Donghyuck carries you in his arms, taking one step at a time carefully so he won’t wake you up. He hesitates when he stands in the hallway, contemplating whether it’d be okay to have you sleep on his bed instead of his sister’s, but not wanting to face your wrath in the morning, he decides to give up for now. Laying you down on his sister’s bed, Donghyuck pulls the blanket over your body. Though he knows he should be leaving, he takes a seat on the edge, his fingers brushing against your bangs.

“The reason why I brought you here was to tell you about our mental bond and how we can put an end to it by helping each other,” he speaks so quietly, but each word is heavy with thoughts and unspoken feelings. “By me helping you be more open to the world, and you helping me overcome my fear. But even without knowing that it could be the solution to break our bond, you already tried your best to support me. Why is that? Why would you do that for someone like me?”

You shift in your sleep, unaware of his presence. Donghyuck stiffens but smiles adoringly when he hears your peaceful snore. “You look so stupid when you sleep.” The bed sinks under his weight when he brushes the bangs away from covering your eyes. He hasn’t told you this but Donghyuck is terrified. The wish he made on the day he turned twenty is about to come true, he can feel it and now he wishes he could take it back.

Because your voice in his head is fading away, little-by-little, until all he can hear is whispers of your thoughts when you’re far away from each other. He knows you’re getting better, and the twenty-year-old Donghyuck would’ve been ecstatic knowing the bond is getting thinner, but not him. Not when he’s getting attached to you this much.

“I don’t want us to lose our bond,” he expresses. “If that’s what keeps you connected to me, I don’t ever want to lose it. I want you—I want to be with you longer… I’m selfish, aren’t I?”

When he caresses your cheek, you lean away, shivering from the cold of his hand. “I was so happy today, knowing that I was the only one in your mind. But I know once we head back home, you’ll start thinking about Jaehyun again and I—” He exhales heavily, fingers twisting against the sheet. “I hate it. I hate that he met you first. I hate that he lives right next to you. I hate that he’s able to see your face the first thing in the morning.” Donghyuck releases a shaky breath as he presses his temple against yours, murmuring, “And I hate that you’re attached to him—that you love him—even without sharing the bond like the one that we have.”

He tries to reason within himself, to stop him from doing what he’s been wanting to do for months ever since he met you but his body betrays him. He leans closer, his face only an inch away from yours as he hovers above you, his thumb sliding along your lower lip, stained with your lip balm. He closes his eyes, the tip of his nose now grazing against yours, and soon his lips will—

Donghyuck sighs. I can’t do this. It’s not right. Not when you’re like this. “Wake up so I can kiss you properly, dumb face.” He presses his lips to your forehead instead, a timid smile brushing against your skin. “Good morning, Sweetheart.”

***

“Before the trip, you mentioned that you found a way to cut off our bond,” you say as you take a bite of your French toast, sitting at his opposite side on the dining table. “Isn’t it about time you let me know?”

Donghyuck doesn’t answer right away, idly playing with the raspberry covered with honey on his plate. “You didn’t hear any word I said last night, did you?”

“What? Oh, umm, no.” You blush knowing that he carried you to your bed last night. Physically exhausted, you were out cold until the sound of Donghyuck making breakfast downstairs woke you up. “Did you say something when I was asleep?”

“Wasn’t important.” The tone he’s using doesn’t sit well with you but you know you shouldn’t push him any further. 

Donghyuck glances at you as he hears your thoughts, the way you’re worried about him, whether you’ve hurt his feelings without realizing, whether he hates how insensitive you’re being and it makes his heart ache knowing how much you care about him. Yet, he’s selfish enough to keep the one thing you desperate to know a secret because he just doesn’t want to lose you.

Get a fucking grip, Lee Donghyuck. If it’s really meant to be, she’ll come back to you. With or without the bond, she’ll find her way back to you.

“Fuck it.” Donghyuck’s fork clatters against his plate when he finally confesses every bit of information he has squeezed out of Taeil, and you listen with eyes growing wide. “So, by the time you can lay your feelings out in the open without fear, and I can play music like the way I used to, the bond will break—supposedly.”

“But—” You’re still in awe. “W-will it work?”

“It does work,” Donghyuck claims. “I haven’t told you this, but your thoughts aren’t actually as loud as they used to in my head ever since you’ve become more open with people. When your feelings get intense, I can hear them clearly—or when you’re sitting next to me like this. But when we’re apart from each other, they’re so faint, almost like whispers in my head. I have to focus to hear them better.”

“Holy shit, why didn’t you tell me this?!” But there’s a way. There really is a way to stop this. He can stop hearing my thoughts. He doesn’t have to suffer because of me anymore.

“Stop it,” Donghyuck spits out, jaw clenching. “Stop thinking about me. Think about what you want, what you really feel.”

“I—” You straighten up in your seat, shocked. “I don’t know what—”

“Will you be happier without this? Without being connected to me?”

“I-isn’t that what we both want?” Your eyes are shaking. “I mean, you’ve gone through a hard time trying to fend off my thoughts—”

“I said, stop thinking about me!” The way he roars almost makes you take a step back. Luckily, you’re strapped to your chair. “I’m—” Donghyuck catches himself, rubbing his temple. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s just—I want to know if—” you ever feel like being attached to me is a burden “You know what, forget it.” The boy rashly gets up from his seat, carrying his plate to the sink even when his breakfast is only half-eaten.

You’re frozen on your seat, your thoughts jumbled from thinking so many things at the same time, and Donghyuck sighs, rubbing his temple from the headache that you caused him. As he walks past you, he lays a hand on your head, patting your hair gently. “I’m sorry, I’m cranky because I don’t get much sleep,” he says, bending down so you’re face-to-face. His smile is gentle but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re too kind for your own good, you know that? Don’t worry about what I said."

"Okay..."

He replies with a grin that seems more like him this time. "We still have a few hours before our flight. Do you think you can go somewhere with me?”

You lean away from his touch before your heart starts acting out again. “Where?”

“To meet an old friend.”

***

“Can you wait here? It won’t take long.” 

You nod your head, gloved hands gripping at the side of your coat as you see Donghyuck lays a bouquet of lilies on the snow-covered grass. In front of him, stands a tombstone with a familiar name written on it.

“Hey, Mark,” Donghyuck says, airy and light as if he’s exchanging daily greetings with his neighbor. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You watch with your heart beating nervously inside your chest. Somehow, no matter how apathetic and strong he tries to be, Donghyuck still appears like a child facing his first fear, and you want to hold his hand to provide comfort but you know it’s an intimate moment where you shouldn’t involve yourself with.

“I’m sorry that I never visited you after your burial. I was…” His shoulders hunch forward, his eyes are fixated on his boots. “I was scared. You remind me of the guilt I’ve been trying to run away from. I was afraid to take the blame for your death, even when no one ever condemned me. I couldn’t face your parents, couldn’t pretend that I was fine whenever they tried to console me. They lost you—their only son—and yet, they still came to my aid.”

So that’s why he never wanted to go on a trip with his family, a thought runs through your head and Donghyuck smiles faintly at that. 

“I’m still afraid, Mark,” he continues, “But I’m working on it every day. I’m trying to accept the fact that you’re gone, and know that even if half of the reason why you’re not here anymore is because of me, you’ll forgive me for it.”

When Donghyuck suddenly looks to the side to send you a heartwarming smile, you almost take a step back in surprise. “So, I met this girl. Super annoying. Doesn’t know shit about Justin Bieber which, you and I both could agree that it’s outrageous. And, somehow, by an unknown force of the universe, she’s mentally connected to me which is really weird at first, but... I’m growing to like it. I feel like I'm not alone anymore.” You look away, suddenly feeling hot even when your teeth are almost chattering from the cold. “But I don’t want to bother her anymore so I have to get through this. I have to be better, Mark. And I’m bracing myself to take another step without you.” You witness the way Donghyuck’s fingers are curling into tiny balls of fists, nails sinking deep into his palm so his voice can sound as steady as he visions in his head. “I’ve decided to sing again, no matter how hard it will take. I’d sing for her sake, just like I once sang for yours. I hope—and I know this is a selfish request—but I hope you’ll forgive me and let me be happy.” When he adds the next words, it’s almost in a hushed murmur. “And I hope when you hear me sing again, you'll be proud of me.”

You delicately smile, unconsciously thinking, he will. Mark is going to be so proud of you.

Donghyuck chuckles a little. “The cute girl beside me just agreed to every word I said, just so you know.” He leans closer to the tombstone, cupping his mouth with one hand as if telling a secret to someone’s ear. “And here’s a little secret, just between us, okay, Mark?” He keeps his teasing eyes on yours the whole time he whispers the words to the cold stone but he never lets you know no matter how many times you beg him to tell.

“It’s a secret,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he drags you away from the cemetery ground. “Too bad you can’t hear my thoughts, huh?”

I’m so hopelessly, foolishly, in love with her and it’s weird that I do because she has this dumb look on her face when she’s sleeping, yet it only makes me love her even more.

***

“You really didn’t have to walk me home,” you say, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling a bit jittery as you slide your card and unlock your front door. Donghyuck has half of his face buried behind his wooly scarf, hands tucked neatly inside his pockets to keep them warm. “Do you—do you want to come inside?”

“That’s what she said,” Donghyuck snickers, and just like that, the moment—if there was one anyway—is gone. At the sight of you glowering at him, Donghyuck faintly chuckles. “I mean, thanks, but maybe next time. I gotta go meet someone.”

“A girl?” Donghyuck looks surprised and you’re dying from shame. “I—I mean, it’s not my business so just ignore that—”

“Would it make you jealous if it was?” You expect him to hear a teasing tone but Donghyuck is asking that with all the seriousness his carefree self can gather.

Which leaves you gaping and speechless. “I—“

“Oh, you’re back.”

The world stops all at once when Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours as he is on his way out of his apartment. With a hand still lingering around his doorknob, Jaehyun’s eyes swiftly move to the boy who turns around to meet his with a startled look that turns almost instantly into a cold scowl. 

You’re holding your breath as they exchange stares as if a fight was about to break but Jaehyun notices the thick tension that surrounds you, and with a warm smile, he offers his hand. “Ah, you must be Lee Donghyuck. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. She has told me a lot about you.”

The way Donghyuck stiffly drags his eyes from Jaehyun’s face to his hand before taking it is rude enough to make someone feel offended, but your neighbor decides to be a bigger man. “Well, I haven’t heard anything about you,” Donghyuck says, smiling although his glare isn’t faltering away. “Not directly, anyway.”

“Well then, I should introduce myself. I’m Jung Jaehyun,” he warmly says, “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Before Donghyuck can open his mouth to retort, you quickly shout, “No,” earning astonished looks from both men. You’re not sure why but watching them conversing with each other makes you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. Donghyuck notices the way you’re twitching restlessly, and with one last look, staring at you almost lifelessly, he focuses back to Jaehyun and says, “No. I was about to leave. You guys have fun.”

And there’s guilt crawling out from your chest as if you just hurt him that makes you call out his name but Donghyuck waves you off, throwing that particular smile that says it’s fine, I’m okay, I just don’t want to talk about this before he walks away.

We’ll talk later tonight, Hyuck, I promise.

You’re sure he hears your thought, but whether or not he wants to hear it is a different matter.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun’s deep, gentle voice forces you to gather your attention back to him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just on my way to get coffee downstairs.”

“It’s…” You’re finally able to breathe normally. “It’s fine.”

“Now that you're here, would you, uhh… join me?”

Though physically exhausted from the trip, you find yourself agreeing to him as a way to apologize. "Sure."

***

Your late-night talk with Jaehyun is nothing out of ordinary and it’s fascinating the way he talks about his favorite book but you have the hardest time concentrating when Donghyuck’s face—the way he coldly stared at you before he walked away—keeps showing up on your face. It gets so terrible that you can only keep up with the conversation by smiling and saying yes whenever he waits for a response.

By the time you’re pushing against the door to your apartment, Jaehyun stops you before you can bid him good night. “Have I done something wrong?” He asks, unsure and concerned. “I feel like you’ve been distancing yourself from me these days.”

“What—no, of course not.” Your head swirls. “A-are you talking about how I didn’t answer your call yesterday? I’m sorry, I was—”

“No, it’s not that.” Jaehyun takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You stand frozen on your feet, eyes unblinking. “Since when did you stop looking at me that way?”

You swallow hard. “W-what way?”

“Like the way you used to.” His hand is feverish, a stark contrast to your cheek that’s been kissed by the cold and you nearly flinch when he traces his thumb along your cheekbone. “Is it because of him?”

It only dawns on you that Jaehyun has detected your feelings for quite some time and it’s frightening to have to admit them under his overwhelming gaze but he has left you with no choice. “So you’ve noticed how I feel towards you.”

He pulls away, giving you the space you need. “Just a hunch.” His eyes are always warm when they observe you, but not tonight. Tonight he seems dismal, almost heartbroken even. “I didn’t want to act on it because I was worried that we’d ruin our friendship. But now that you’re more honest with your feelings, more open with your thoughts, I get to see the real you and you’re…” He sighs, somewhat out of breath from speaking too fast. “You’re captivating. I realized how often I thought about you whenever you’re not around and when I saw you just now—with him—” Jaehyun takes a step closer and you stumble back in reflex, spine pressing against the door. Knowing the effect he has on you, he stops, maintaining the distance. “It’s weird for me to get so riled up and jealous when I’m this old but I am. It’s hard seeing you with someone else. I only want you to have your eyes on me.” He rubs a hand over his face, slightly hiding behind his palm. “I’m such a terrible person, aren’t I?”

“N-no…” You’re about to faint from how much your heart is flailing inside your chest but your mind is blank. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for your entire life, to have him confess to you in such a passionate way and you’ve daydreamed about this more than you can count, and yet, when it happens, you’re as blank as a clean slate. You can only focus more on the way his eyes are intensely perceiving yours, repeating the words he said inside your head.

Even without the bond, Jaehyun can detect how appalled you are from his sudden confession so instead of forcing you to squeeze out an answer, he pats you gently on the head, and says, “I’m sorry for blurting out like this but I meant every word I said. Just take your time to think about it. I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.” He leans closer to whisper his goodbye, his breath is as hot as the kiss he lays on your cheek.

When he’s left, you close the door and slide down to the floor, your wobbly legs finally giving out under your weight. Your cheeks feel fiery, your heart pummeling thunderously until you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes.

Hyuck? Are you hearing this? I’m sorry, was I being loud?

But your phone stays silent. After waiting for a few minutes more, you conclude that he’s fallen asleep and you finally have privacy in your thoughts. So you throw yourself in the bed, sinking most of your face in the comfort of your pillow.

It’s weird that you’re conflicted. Isn’t Jaehyun the only man you love in your life? So why do you have this feeling like you have to make a choice? Isn’t it supposed to be clear?

“Stop looking at me like you have a crush on me.”

Your stomach flips when the memory of Donghyuck’s teasing grin resurfaces. You don’t want to admit but after spending so many days together, it’s ridiculous to not develop a certain feeling toward the boy who shines as brilliantly as the sun. Aside from his striking, affable personalities, it’s easy to fall in love with Donghyuck because he understands you more than anyone else—more than yourself, dare to say, since you could barely remember what you had for breakfast while he remembered that you needed to re-fill your shampoo bottle just because he understood a fleeting thought crossed your mind during your morning shower. And despite his constant whining and childish complaints, you can see him smiling whenever he reads your mind, enjoying your nonsense more than you do. 

But the more you wonder about it, the more you feel like something is holding you back. Just like the other side of a coin, Donghyuck represents everything you wish to be—confident, lovable, a charming extrovert—and it’s easy to be blinded by his light, but would you dare to take a step closer? What if you get burned instead? He’s so much better off without you.

And unlike Jaehyun who approaches you because of who you are, Donghyuck is only there in your life because of the bond. A guy like him—someone who easily gathers attention from anyone in the room, someone who can make girls blush and giggle over a small talk—he would never notice a bystander like you. Besides, you can’t help but think, he’s probably staying with me because he has no other choice—trapped in this ridiculous supernatural situation with no way out.

The second we manage to solve this, he’ll walk away from my life.

***

Donghyuck missed his sleep even when he was dead tired from his trip.

“That table isn’t going to clean itself, you know,” Jeno chimes in, forcing Donghyuck to blink himself out of his trance, a folded napkin rests idly underneath his palm when he’s supposed to sweep unwanted crumbs. He just can’t help rewinding the words you confessed in your mind last night. He tries to shake the thought away and proceed to focus back on his work, even when a storm is raging on his heart.

He’s still not sure whether he’s just driven by the concept of Soulmate or if it’s simply because he’s grown comfortable with your presence, closer than he has ever been with anyone, but he knows he’s falling for you. It’s ridiculous that he feels this way toward you. It’s even more ridiculous that he still falls for you, even when he knows you’ve decided to not give him the chance. Even when he knows that another man is tugging on your heartstrings like a master puppeteer while Donghyuck is just an audience, sitting at the edge of his seat, wishing for their roles to be reversed. 

During your first meeting with him, Donghyuck was both glad and indignant to meet the person who’d been yapping non-stop inside his head. He’d thought he was going insane at first, afraid that he might be diagnosed with schizophrenia or something. But he realized that he hadn’t been hearing voices, he was hearing a voice—a female voice, talking about things that wouldn’t have crossed his mind even if he tried. 

You tend to sleep late while he had to wake up early for work and whenever he tried to rest, you would be drowning in your thoughts, recharging your energy as you took solace in your mind. For him, it was torture. Blasting his favorite music through his earphones, he made a promise to himself that he would take his sweet revenge the second he met the person who owned these thoughts.

But when he met you—your hair disheveled, the color of your scarf didn’t match your coat, your lips parted in shock, your eyes shaking—you weren’t like how he had imagined you to be. It was endearing, the way you fumbled with your words and the way you got flustered rather easily. You were young and naive, and it turned out that you had been hearing him too. Donghyuck began to gradually change his perception, no longer seeing your mental bond as a curse, but some string of fate that connected you to him for some reason—something bigger than his poor little mind could imagine.

The second he went back to his flat after your first encounter with him, Donghyuck rapidly switched on his PC, didn’t even spend the time to take off his shoes properly. Heading straight to his browser, he started to look for clues. There were several articles he found, talking about people having mental bonds. One article, in particular, caught his attention. It was a story about a man, a decade older than him, dreaming about the same woman every night ever since his twentieth birthday. And it plucked on Donghyuck’s heartstrings because he had been hearing your voice in his head right after he turned twenty.

In the man’s dream, he saw her memories, each and every one of them and it didn’t feel like a dream because when he woke up, every memory was crystal clear, like a scene from a movie he had been watching over and over again. One day, as he traveled to the other side of the world, he met this woman who looked exactly like the one in his dream, even wearing the same necklace around her neck. And the first thing she said to him was, “I’ve been seeing you in my dreams.”

The article had the word Soulmate written on the title.

And Donghyuck would’ve snorted if it didn’t strike too close to home. Instead, he swallowed, his heart stuck in his throat. I’m her Soulmate?

As he took a seat at the edge of his bed, his heartbeat was resonating in his ears. Okay, calm down. Think this through.

But he couldn’t, not when your thoughts began to enter his mind, filling the spaces in his head. What was once a faceless figure morphed into your face and it made the heat in his chest rose to his cheeks when the first word he heard from your mind was his name.

Soon he decided to not only put his faith in the concept of Soulmate but be infatuated with it. Especially when he noticed how easy it was talking to you. No, not easy, natural. As if you had known him for years, as if you were two souls split into two bodies. 

Donghyuck told a lie. It wasn’t destructive, so he kept it going. When he mentioned that he’d stopped listening to music to give your mind a rest, he was actually doing it so he could focus on hearing your thoughts—which was ironic, after spending months trying to get your voice out of his head. And he did that so often, that he had to remind himself to think about a song in his head, to make it less obvious to you. 

It made him feel elated when your thoughts began to drift more towards him compared to anything else, but not today. 

The second we manage to solve this, he’ll walk away from my life.

“Is that how you think of me?” The words that tumble off his lips don’t surprise him as much as the agonizing tone in his voice. It hurts. Of course, it hurts. It feels like a rejection, even before he makes his confession.

So when he lays down on his bed, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his chest bare and his hair damp from the hot shower that nearly scalded his skin, Donghyuck plugs his earphones back to mute your thoughts. He would’ve laughed if he wasn’t too upset because, for the last few months, he has regarded your thoughts as his lullaby. But tonight, he wants his mind to himself, and he doesn’t care if the booming sound of his death metal tracks hammers your head.

Tomorrow, he will be fine. But tonight, he just wants to sleep with every part of you fading into a blur.

***

When you show up at the coffee shop the next morning, eyes bloody red from only having an hour of sleep, Donghyuck only spares you a glance and a half-hearted apology.

He expects you to snap at him, or at least throw ice daggers with your eyes, so it startles him when you take his wrist, gently squeezing him. “You kept your music on all night. Did I bother you too much with my thoughts?”

Donghyuck looks away, sliding the coffee you ordered to the table. “No, it’s just…” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. You couldn’t control your thoughts. I shouldn’t have tortured you like that.”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head, smiling tenderly. “I’m sorry too. I swear I tried to not think about him but Jaehyun asked me to go out with him this weekend. It’s not a date—of course, it’s not—“ You start to play with your hands, trying to keep yourself collected. “We’re just going to see a movie—”

“Yeah, I got that.”

The tone he uses is icy cold and you can practically feel it prickling against your skin. “Oh…” You unconsciously take a step back. “You’re right. You must have heard me. I’m—I’m sorry.”

You take the cup in your hands, shaky fingers tapping anxiously against its side. You don’t notice the way Donghyuck is gazing at you with pain fleeting in his eyes but you can somehow tell from his voice that he’s upset. Because of what, you’re not sure.

“He—J-Jaehyun also, umm…” You pick at the skin of your arm, letting out a breath to collect yourself. “He kinda confessed to me too, which still feels unreal to me.”

Donghyuck only hums, pouring more coffee beans into the grinder. His jaw clenches when he turns around and leans his back against the counter, facing away from you. 

“What… do you think I should do?”

The way he’s gripping the edge of his counter, hidden from your vision, is enough to break his nails. “Why are you asking me? It’s not my business.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “Y-you’re right, I don’t know why I—” Your legs are begging for you to leave, to escape the whole situation, but a curious part in your mind wants you to stay, to see more of his reaction, to know if he feels something—

Donghyuck knows, of course, he does. He knows how your feelings for Jaehyun clash with what you feel for him and he knows that if he, at least, tries to convince you that he feels the same way, you’re probably going to lean more toward him.

But that line you said in your head. The second we manage to solve this, he’ll walk away from my life. Donghyuck doesn’t have the strength to just walk away, pretending like he didn’t hear the sound of his heart breaking to pieces. He hates you for it. He hates how you doubt him, and he loathes the fact that he’s doubting himself too.

There’s a difference between loving someone for who they are, and loving them because you’re driven by the word Soulmate. You just have to make sure that your feelings for her are real, coming from your heart, not from your mind.

“Look, I gotta go back to work,” he says and you have no choice but to nod, hoping to see him smile but he doesn’t. So when he walks away, you circle your fingers around his wrist. He throws you a bitter look over his shoulder. “What?”

“A…” You swallow your breath. “A penny for your thoughts? Please?”

His eyes soften at your plead, but the smile that paints his face is weak, growing fainter within seconds. “As I said, my thoughts are expensive. But I’ll let you guess for free.”

“Umm… You’re upset because my thoughts are too loud that you’ve been having a hard time concentrating on anything else?”

“Correct.” But the way his smile turns sinister lets you know that it’s the opposite.

***

It’s not a date, you convince yourself for the possibly seventieth time that day, it’s just two friends hanging out.

But whenever Jaehyun smiles with his dimples appearing on his cheeks, you feel like you’re lying to yourself. When he clasps his hand with yours as a romantic movie plays in front of your shaking eyes, you feel like you’re crossing the line. And whenever Donghyuck’s face appears out of nowhere when something reminds you of him—a cup of coffee, a kid playing an online game on his phone, the scent of bergamot—you know that things are not supposed to be like this.

You’re not supposed to feel like this.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jaehyun says as he hands you a cup of hot latte before he takes a seat next to you on a bench. “I know strolling at a park after watching a movie is the most typical date you—”

You spit out your coffee. “I-I thought you said this wasn’t a date!”

“Just so you’d agree to it.” Jaehyun grins, catching you off guard. “Did you feel tricked?”

Looking away to cover your blush, you pout. “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun’s chuckles rumble deep in his chest, a bright contrast to Donghyuck's airy laughter. “Can you look at me please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Upset, you turn around. “Look, I don’t—” 

Jaehyun takes the rest of your sentence away with his lips, pressing against yours so softly, almost shyly, and yet it feels like the time suddenly stops. When he pulls away but only slightly, you’re as still as a statue. “I hope that’s okay?” he whispers before leaning in once more, causing you to panic.

Then suddenly, a song is blasting inside your mind. Your hands jump straight up to your head, pressing your palms against your ears in an attempt to mute the sound even when you know it won’t work. Somewhere out there, Donghyuck is listening to heavy metal, the sounds of beating drums and angry thrums of electric guitars stinging your ear.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jaehyun questions, urgently coming to your aid. Kneeling in front of you, he tries to lift your face, observing your expression. “What is it? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“N-no, just—” Grimacing from the pain, you try to shout in your head.

Hyuck! Stop it! You're splitting my head open—

And when you thought he couldn’t play the song heavier than that, it got louder.

HYUCK!

“I’m—I’m sorry, I gotta go. I have—” You gather your things in a hurry, desperately wanting to cover your ears again though you know it won’t do you any good. “I’ll see you back home, okay? Thanks for today.”

Not even looking back to Jaehyun who’s still calling your name, eyebrows adjoined in concern, you run as fast as you can. You’ve memorized the route to his apartment at this point and it doesn’t take long before you find yourself knocking frantically at his door, shouting his name. The music is still blasting in your ears, giving you as much pain as the one that you feel forming along your knuckles from knocking too hard.

Donghyuck opens the door with headphones strapped to his ears, flatly staring at you without taking them off. “What?”

“We need to talk," you mutter through gritted teeth. "Take those off.”

"I'm busy."

"Take. Those. Off."

Without dragging his eyes away from yours, he pulls out his iPod from the pocket of his jeans and raises the volume even more.

Your head is seconds away from exploding at this point. “Stop it!” Your eyes almost begin to water. Can’t handle the torture, you leap forward and yank the device out of his hand, unplugging the jack until the music comes to an abrupt stop in your head. “Jesus Christ,” you exhale in relief, forcing yourself to stand by placing a hand on the nearest wall. “Are you insane?! How the hell are you not deaf already?!”

“What do you want?” He stiffly asks instead, crossing his arms. “Hurry up. I’m busy.”

You scowl at his gesture. “You do realize I was talking to Jaehyun, right?”

“Talking?” He scoffs. “Is that what people call it these days? I’m more used with the term ‘sticking-my-tongue-far-down-my-boyfriend’s-throat’ but hey, whatever gets you to sleep at night, Sweetheart.”

You’re flustered but your anger is too intense to react to it. “It’s not your business—”

“Of course, darling, but with you screaming about how fucking soft his lips were over and over again in my head kinda makes it my business, just a little bit.”

He's most likely bluffing but it doesn't make you feel any less flushed. “How many times should I tell you?! I can’t control my thoughts!”

“Then don’t see him.”

You gape. “What?”

“Don’t see him,” he repeats casually as if he was asking for the simplest thing in life. “I can handle your thoughts but not when they’re about him.”

You clench your jaw. “Do you realize how fucking selfish you just sounded?”

“Do you realize how fucking selfish you are?”

You hold yourself back at that, biting your lip but Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, challenging you. “Go on," he snorts, "Say what’s on your mind. It’s not like I can hear you.”

“Sometimes I wish you never exist,” you say, your voice shaking but from anger or the pain your own words caused you, you’re not sure. “I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to have this stupid connection with you.” You bring your head down when your vision starts to blur, emitting all energy you can have to contain your tears from shedding. “I hate it, I hate that you can hear my thoughts, I hate—”

I hate that you make me feel this way. I hate that every time I think about Jaehyun, your face shows up too. I hate that when he kissed me, I remembered the time when you almost did before you joked about it, not caring about how that made me feel. And I hate that I have these feelings for you when all you’ve been doing is just flirting to see my reactions—

You don’t notice the part where Donghyuck hastily walks to minimize the space between you so when he holds your face, lift it until his face is all you can see, he takes the breath away from your lungs. He’s so close, his forehead is touching yours and when he leans in closer, you keep your eyes tightly shut, trembling under his touch.

Donghyuck notices that you’re scared of him, scared of not knowing what he’s thinking or how he feels for you, and kissing you now might only add more doubts instead of confirmation. It’s hurting him to know that you feel the same way, but you’re hesitating in taking a further step because you question his feelings. And it’s frightening for Donghyuck because he’s been questioning the same thing: what if his feelings aren’t real? What if he’s just so used to thinking about you as his soulmate because of the bond? What will happen when the bond gets broken? Will his feelings change? Will yours?

There’s only one way to find out.

With a pang in his chest, Donghyuck leans in only to whisper, “I think you should leave,” to your ear and the words strike you harder than they should. He sneaks his hand down to fetch his iPod back from your grip, avoiding your gaze no matter how much you try to catch his. “Hyuck—”

“I’m trying to work something out,” he says, moving his headphones from dangling around his neck to cover his ears again, plugging the jack back into his iPod. “If it manages to go as planned, you won’t have to hear me in your head ever again.”

“Wait—Aren’t we—”

“You should work on your personality too. Be more honest. That’s the only way you can stop me from hearing your thoughts.” Donghyuck doesn’t wait until you leave on your accord. His fingers are already curling around his doorknob. “And until we can stop hearing each other in our head, I think it’s best if we don’t meet. I don’t think Jaehyun will like it if you keep hanging out with me anyway.”

“Hyuck—wait—”

The sound of his door being slammed shut isn’t nearly as loud as the music that burst into your ears, yet it hurts you just the same. A closed door can be opened, but you don’t know the way to break into a closed heart because that one last smile you saw on his face before he vanished entirely from your sight meant goodbye. An empty, painful, and forceful goodbye.

The music is the only one that stands vividly and this time you listen, as it’s the only thing that keeps you connected to him.

***

Donghyuck didn’t witness the kiss you shared with Jaehyun but he knew more than just seeing it with his own eyes. Your thoughts were resonating in his head, and even when he tried his best to stop them from coming, Donghyuck couldn’t help but know every bit of feeling you experienced during the kiss. He knew how you were so shocked, you could barely move your lips. He knew how terrified you were to have your first kiss in such a public place, even when no one was close enough to notice. He knew how happy you were to have your first kiss shared with your first love, and the thought was so sickening, he nearly punched the nearest wall with his fist.

But he stopped when he heard his name being called. Somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind, there was a part of you that shouted how the kiss, even though it was perfect, it didn’t feel right. As if it was simply a love scene in a middle of a movie, that’d stand pale in comparison to the final kiss they’d share at the ending. You’d thought about a pair of a puffy, cupid’s bow lips, replacing Jaehyun’s thin lips, for only a moment but enough for Donghyuck to hear.

So he still has hopes. He just has to convince you that what he’s been feeling for you is real. With or without a bond, soulmates or not, he loves you, and you love him. It’s as simple as that. Once the bond breaks apart, there will be no reason for you to doubt him. No reason for him to doubt himself.

I just have to get better.

But getting better isn’t as easy as showing up at work on time after you slept so late. Succeeding in saving up most of his salary in the last three months, he manages to get himself an electronic keyboard which he usually would hate after spending so much time on his upright piano, but beggars can’t be choosers. The instrument doesn’t matter. He just needs to keep his fingers steady on the keys.

But even only placing his fingertips on the keyboards already makes him feel nauseous. When his thumb presses the first note, he’s reminded of Mark and Mark no longer serves as a happy memory or his safe haven like the time when he had his first stage fright. Mark only reminds him of the sins he committed, of the hateful words he enunciated during their fight, and how the accident took his life and robbed a huge piece of Donghyuck’s soul at the same time.

“Just do it, you idiot,” Donghyuck hisses under his breath, shaky fingers tugging furiously at his locks. “Stop thinking about him, he’s no longer here.”

Because of me. He's dead because of me.

I killed him.

"Don't cry," he whispers to himself between choked sobs. "Don't cry." But no matter how much he chants the words like a prayer, the second he closes his eyes, tears slip down his cheeks.

Think about her.

Focus on her.

I have to get better for her.

It takes days for him to gather enough courage just to be able to sit back behind the keyboard. And it will probably take longer days, weeks, months for him to be able to play and sing like he used to but it doesn’t matter, as long as he tries. He doesn’t give up even when his memories are suffocating him. He doesn’t give up even when his nightmares continue when he’s awake. 

"I’ll wait for you, Lee Donghyuck, no matter how long it takes for you to be brave enough to hear your voice. I’ll be waiting to hear you sing."

Donghyuck takes a deep breath, his fingers are now steady on the keyboards.

I won’t give up.

***

You haven’t seen Donghyuck for a month. 

And it’s not simply because he’s been avoiding you. He’s decided to cut his ties and regardless of how hopelessly you try to knit them back, you can’t. He’s changed his phone number without warning, and no matter how many times you’ve knocked on his door, nobody came to answer. He even resigned from the coffee shop he’s been working for the last two years, without telling anyone why but from the way Jeno looked at you when you tried to gather some info, you’re sure it has something to do with you.

What feels dreadful to you is the fact that you don’t hear him much these days. Donghyuck can go on without listening to a single song for an entire week, and whenever he sings—that occurs only two or three times a day—it’s so faint that you can barely hear the lyrics.

Am I losing the bond? You often find yourself asking the question, but it only shocks you when the next thought that forms in your head is: How can I stop that from happening?

Maybe you’ve grown accustomed to having him sing random tunes in your head that you feel lost when he disappears. Or maybe you just miss him like a child missing her best friend over a school holiday. But that doesn’t explain the longing, the yearning you have for him. For his laugh, for his mischievous grin, for his stupid antics, for his snarky remarks—

For Donghyuck, entirely.

It doesn't explain why you feel so incomplete.

It’s only now that he’s apart, both body and mind, that you start to notice just how eerie silence can become. How it can consume all of your hopes like a black hole, leaving you empty and lost.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, snapping you out of your reverie. Your dinner is long forgotten, your fork still dangling between your fingers. “Is it that boring talking about my childhood days?”

You blush, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. No, of course not. I love hearing you talk about your childhood. It’s nice to know more about you.”

“Yet you seem curious about something else.” Jaehyun slides his empty plate to the side, hand reaching out to hold yours as it lays still on the table. “I know you haven’t really said anything back after you heard my confession that night, and I won’t ask about it ‘cause I know how much it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You fidget, holding your spoon a little tighter. You’re being unfair to him, you know that. But you honestly don’t know what to say, you don’t even understand your feelings yet. The best option would be with Jaehyun, there’s no doubt about it. He’s sweet and understanding, he’s smart, he even has a steady job that he loves, and the fact that he’s older than you gives you the chance to complain about your day and he will cradle you in his arms, soothingly patting your head until your anger seeps out of your skin.

“I feel like you’ve been distancing yourself from me ever since that kiss happened too.” Jaehyun’s thumb rubs soothingly along the back of your palm. “Is it hard being with me?”

It’s not hard, it’s just… It doesn’t feel right. “Of course not.” 

“Then why do I feel like we’re missing something?”

You bite your lip, wanting to say so much but don’t dare to do it. Because even when Donghyuck has disappeared from your life, you still can't stop thinking about him. Jaehyun is perfect but he’s not Donghyuck. He’s not mischievous like he is, he doesn’t know that you prefer more pepper than salt in your food, he doesn’t talk about World War II for fun. Jaehyun doesn’t have his blinding smile, doesn’t have his honeyed voice, doesn’t have everything that you want. And it won't be fair to accept Jaehyun's feelings when you're in love with someone else.

You blink, eyes widening.

In love...?

I'm in love with Hyuck?

“I’m more like a brotherly figure to you, aren’t I?” 

Jaehyun's voice leads you back to reality and when he smiles, you feel a part of your heart breaking just by witnessing it. Yet, you don’t deny. 

You nod your head. “I’m sorry…” It comes as a whisper, yet, you know it breaks him just as much.

"No, don't be." His smile acts as a smokescreen to hide the jab that strikes his chest, and when he retracts his hand, you know that it will be the last time he’ll ever touch you like that. “I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm sorry, this must have been weird. I shouldn’t have kissed you—I don’t know what I was thinking—“

“No, it’s okay.” You ignore the heat that blossoms on your cheek. “I’m… I’m glad that my first kiss was with you. You were—” Say it. You owe him at least that much. “You were my first love.”

Jaehyun’s lips parted in surprise before they’re pressed into another smile, more genuinely this time. “Glad to know. I was tired of being hung-up this long.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m happy with it. At least I get a taste of what it’s like dating you.” He winks, completely catching you off guard.

“H-have you always been this playful before?”

“I have. You’re just too busy obsessing over Donghyuck to notice.” 

You gasp, ashamed. “I never—”

Jaehyun stands up from his seat, carrying his plate in one hand and ruffling your hair as he walks past you. “Donghyuck is a very lucky man. Tell him that I won’t spare his life if he ever breaks your heart. Got it?”

You weakly smile. 

It feels like he’s broken mine already.

***

It’s faint, your voice in his mind, just like how it has sounded in his head in the last five months since he last saw you, but he heard it. He can still hear you, somehow, when your feelings grow too intense, but only if he focuses his mind on it. And even then it’s not as clear as they used to be. He can tell that you’re aching to see him, just like how he feels towards you, if not more. But it won’t work until the bond is broken, and Donghyuck keeps convincing himself that every second, every minute, and every hour of his life. He should not—will not run to you until the bond is separated. 

But when he sees you waiting in front of his apartment’s door at one in the morning, cold and shivering as you hug your knees to your chest, face half-buried behind your knitted scarf, Donghyuck loses all resolution.

“What—” The boy nearly trips over his feet as he rushes to your spot, eyes wide, one hand gripping tightly along the sling of his bag. “Why—how—why are you here?!”

Half-asleep after waiting for what felt like years, you can barely distinguish between your dream and reality. But when he kneels in front of you, hands going straight to your cheeks to measure your body temperature, he knows that it’s him. It’s really him. After not seeing his face for nearly half a year, you should have forgotten the way he furrows his eyebrows, or the scent of bergamot perfume that lingers around his neck, or the shape of his lips…

“Jesus Christ, not my lips again.”

Or the way he complains about that. It’s really him. “Hyuck—”

“Let’s get you inside first,” he cuts you off, abruptly lift you on your feet that you struggle to maintain your balance, landing on his chest with a small huff. “God, you’re freezing.” It’s as if you haven’t been separated for even a day, the way he speaks, the way he holds you close with his hands rubbing up and down your arms to emit heat. “You’re such an idiot. Why are you here?”

You’ve had all planned out—the way you’d greet him, the things you wanted to say—yet when his warmth seeps into your clothes, you fall apart. Torrent of your tears are soaking through the formal attire he wears for his late-night shift, and your throat hurts, even when all you’re doing is silently screaming at his chest, fingers fisting the back of his shirt, desperate to keep him to stay.

Because these five months without him have been nothing but torture. You didn’t realize that having your mind to yourself would feel so lonely, so empty. Silence used to be your comfort, your solace, and now, it’s your enemy. Donghyuck has changed so many aspects of your life that you can barely live without him responding to your thoughts, no matter how ridiculous or unimportant they are. Every night you spent in the last five months, you’d been calling out to him, begging him to respond, to sing something in your head, to send a stupid text or two to spread a grin on your face. But when only silence answered, it was frightening.

So now, having him hold you like this, listening to your thoughts, it almost feels like your world is painted with a spectrum of colors once again.

Donghyuck doesn’t say a word, too busy drowning himself with the voices in his head as your thoughts begin to enter his mind like a stream of waterfall. After only being able to hear them as hushed whispers at the back of his mind, he’s overwhelmed by the intensity of the feelings you have for him. Astonished, he can only stay quiet, wanting to immerse himself further in your thoughts, to know you, to understand every bit of you, to savor every feeling you have for him.

Donghyuck is so still that you have to convince yourself once more that you’re not dreaming. But he never lets you go, suppressing every quiver from your body with his arms circled protectively around your waist and shoulder. And he waits until you’re no longer choked by your tears, his lips grazing against your hairline to calm you down.

It takes a few minutes until your fervent sobs vanish away, your body only shakes a little when you take a deep breath. Donghyuck cards his fingers through your hair, cradling your head with one arm until your lips are nearly grazing his collar bone and you embrace him tighter, and tighter until you squeeze out all the air in your lungs and even then, it’ll still feel like he's not close enough. “I won’t go anywhere,” Donghyuck says, chuckling softly beside your ear as he hears your frantic thoughts. “I promise you this time.”

“Your promise doesn’t mean shit, Lee Donghyuck,” you sniffle, weakly bumping your fist to his chest. “Aren’t we supposed to work this out together? Isn’t that the sole purpose of our stupid mental bond?”

Donghyuck sighs, still worried more about how your teeth are chattering behind your lips over anything. “You're freezing. We should get inside first—”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“It’s cold out here—”

“I have been looking for you everywhere. Do you know how often I visited your place in the last month only to find that you weren’t here?!”

“Actually, I was home, but I pretend—“

“You—WHAT?!” Gasping loudly, you shriek, not caring that it’s one in the morning and he has neighbors who are definitely going to complain tomorrow. Panicking, Donghyuck hauls you up by the waist so he can drag you into his apartment but when you struggle, arms and legs flailing all over the place, he lifts you off your feet and carries you in his arms. Flushed, you nearly punch him on his jaw but Donghyuck manages to shut his front door with a kick and carry you deep inside his apartment.

He finally lets you go when he reaches the couch, settling both of your bodies down with a groan, frantically trying to catch his breath. Hurt from being abandoned and thrown in the dark with no proper explanations, you throw a cushion to his face before he can form a word, earning a loud whine from the man. “Talk to me! You keep telling me to be honest with myself, to be more open with my thoughts, yet you keep yours a secret—how do you think that makes me feel?!”

It takes every amount of strength in his heart for him not to embrace you and recite every loving word he has associated with your name. He has missed you, missed you so much that it physically hurt him. He’s missed your kindness, missed your laugh, the way you twitched and rambled when your anxiety became too much to bear; missed your banter and how you’d grin when managed to win an argument, missed your pout when you didn’t, missed hearing you think about him even when you were supposed to be in love with someone else. 

So when he speaks again, his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard from him. “Do you still hear me in your head?”

You bite your lower lip, tears welling in your eyes once more. “No,” you whimper. “That’s the problem. I can’t hear you… I haven’t been able to hear you for months, Hyuck, and I hate it. I hate having my mind to myself. I hate how lonely it feels.” 

Donghyuck looks like he’s both smiling in relief and getting his heart broken at the same time. “Then it works,” he says. “It still feels surreal to me but it really works.”

“W-what is?” You ask, chest heavy with dread but before you can say anything, Donghyuck gently pats your head and whispers, “Wait here and listen.”

He walks to the keyboard that you haven’t even noticed until now, as you’re too distracted with your emotions to focus on your surrounding. As he takes a seat, you see him gulping hard but his nervousness doesn’t stay on for long. Taking a deep breath, he places his fingers on the keyboards, and he begins to play.

It’s the song that he used to sing thousands of times in your head—the one that he wrote together with Mark, only slower, softer, almost like one of those ballads that your parents used to slow dance to. Your hands lay rigid on your lap, nervous because you know how much that song broke him apart the first time you sang it to him. But today, Donghyuck wears a new persona. He’s stronger than he’s ever been and there is only a slight quiver running on his fingertips.

Even by hearing the first few notes, it immediately sinks on you why Mark once told him he was born as a performer. He plays perfectly, coaxing impossibly soothing and amazing melodies from it. But it’s more about his presence that makes the performance worth the wait, the way he seems lost as his fingers flew over the keys like a puppeteer tugging on the strings. It’s like everything fades into a blur where it’s just him, pouring his heart out into a song and nothing else matters.

And then he starts to sing.

You’ve heard him sing once, but it doesn’t even serve as a snippet to what he sounds like when he gives his entire mind into it. It reminds you of the trickle of raindrops on your window after a long day of being surrounded by boisterous conversations, or the small waves hitting your feet as you bask in the glow of the sunset. When he sings, it creates a memory and reminding you of one at the same time—a memory that is so sweet, so soothing, one that you will replay over and over again behind closed eyelids before your exhaustion takes you away to another state.

And it’s endearing the way his voice shakes a little when he starts the song, embarrassed of performing in front of an audience instead of the silence of his room. You love the way he sneaks a glance at you to see your reaction, and when he looks up and smiles, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Not wanting any distraction, you close your eyes.

It keeps ringing in my heart

The sound echoed towards you

I want to hold you in my arms

My deep sigh is slowly becoming a ringing towards you

I want you to love me now

I hope someday my heart reaches you so you can hear it.

The song ends faster than how you would’ve liked but before you can utter a word, Donghyuck turns around on his seat to face you with scarlet cheeks, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s—I’ve only managed to practice this far,” he says, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “This is the reason why I’ve been keeping my distance from you. I wanted to focus—to heal myself first. I was going to make a surprise for you on your birthday, like performing in public and everything. There’s this piano in the restaurant I’m working at that our pianist uses to perform every Friday night, and it sounds so beautiful. I wanted to use it to perform publicly, f-for you.” He suddenly buries his face in his hands. “Fuck, it’s embarrassing when I say it out loud, but anyway—” You haven’t even said anything and he’s already panicking. “That was the whole plan.”

You can’t find the strength to argue even when you have several points to make, not when his lyrics are still buzzing in your ear. “Did you mean them?”

“Mean what?”

“The words you sang to me earlier.”

Donghyuck stiffens. Looking away and hiding half of his face behind his hand, he says, “Yes.”

And you’re not sure what he sees in your eyes, what kind of expression you make but Donghyuck turns pensive. He closes the space between you until he stands on his knees, his hand taking one of yours, fingers curling naturally around your softer ones, and presses his temple against yours.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to see you,” he sighs, “To have you close to me like this.” He plants a delicate kiss on your closed eyelid, rubbing the rest of your tears away with his thumb. “Why are you still crying?”

“It's just—” Your breathing is as shaky as your voice. “I wanted to be there for you, to help you overcome your fear but you’re doing this alone and I—” The more you try to suppress your tears, the more they break harder and you’re silently screaming into your palms, gasping for air. “I can’t help but imagine how hard it was for you to go through all this alone. I wish I could become your strength—”

“But you are,” he quickly says, cupping both of your cheeks so you can no longer avert your gaze from his. “You’ve always been. You’re the reason why I’m able to sing again. There were so many times that I wanted to give up because I kept seeing Mark’s face in my head but you kept me going. I just had to remember you, remember the words you said to me—about how you’d wait for me, no matter how long it’d take for me to find my voice again. You gave me purpose. I wouldn’t have the power to face my fear if it wasn’t for you.” 

There are so many things you want to say to him, yet there you are, squeezing your eyes shut just so you wouldn’t break apart again. 

Am I even allowed to be this happy?

Donghyuck smiles but you feel it on your skin instead of seeing it with your eyes. “Idiot,” he mumbles out. “Of course, you can. You deserve only happiness.” There’s a pause where you can only hear your muffled sobs, before he adds, “And I wish, this time, I could become that for you.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Donghyuck frames your face with one hand, his thumb drawing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “Our bond is broken. I’m no longer connected to you the way I used to but I’m still here and I’ll stay here, as long as you’d let me.” His smile is beautiful, angelic as always, but his eyes are desperate for confirmation. “Do you… still doubt my feelings?”

"Back then..." A choked sob escapes your lips. “Y-you heard my thoughts?”

“Yes, but I don’t blame you. It’s natural for you to think that way since it was something that brought us—and forced us—to be together. To be honest, I was doubting my feelings too.” When you look up to meet his gaze, it’s so easy for him to be lost in your eyes. “But now it’s clear for me—it’s always been that way. What I feel for you is real. With or without the bond, I want to be with you. No doubts,” he leans closer, “No second thoughts, no lies.”

With another embrace, you let yourself be indulged with joy because Donghyuck is here and he’s perfect. He’s perfect in your arms, he sounds perfect in your ears, he knows you perfectly even at the parts where you’re not sure about yourself. And it’s perfect when he asks, “Can I kiss you?” softly, in a whisper as if he wasn’t sure you wanted it even when he’s most likely read the wish you’ve been repeating in your heart. 

And it feels perfect when Donghyuck leans in to consume the last few inches of air between your lips and his.

It seems more like a first kiss when it’s your second one and it’s probably because this time, it’s real. You’re conscious of it, you’re wishing for it, you’re drowning in it, and only now that you understand why your favorite poet could write a whole page of poem trying to describe the beauty of a first kiss. Now that you’re relishing the taste of his lips on yours, a page isn’t nearly enough. You could write millions of words to describe how surprisingly smooth his lips are, how they feel feverish as they mesh with your chapped ones, how every movement that he makes feels both new and familiar, exciting and shy.

When he breaks apart, he’s regretting that decision as much as you are so it doesn’t take another second for him to ask again. “Can I do it again? Longer this time.”

Your eyes are locked on his mouth but focuses more on the way his lips move not on his words. Desperate, you breathe out, “Please stop asking—” But Donghyuck’s impatience matches yours and he kisses you with all the feelings he has bottled up ever since he laid his eyes on you. 

He tells you with his hand framing your face, fingers slipping between your strands, and another one encircling your waist. He tugs you closer to his chest until you lose your balance, tumbling down from the couch right to his lap.

He tells you with his tongue but not by forming loving words, but by savoring every taste of your mouth and whimpering when you feel better—much, much better than everything he’s ever dreamed of.

He tells you with his teeth, nibbling at the supple skin, letting you know just how much he’s been wanting to make you his and his only. He wants to erase every touch that Jaehyun painted on your skin, and redraw everything with his colors—red that will turn purplish by the morning.

And he tells you with his silvery voice, as he chants your name over and over again until it sounds like your name is invented for the sole purpose of being called by him. Until your name turns into another form that describes the way he loves you, the way he yearns for you—your soul, your heart, your mind, and now, your body.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Donghyuck says as he maps his way down to the delicate skin that lays below the silver pendant of your necklace. Your coat has long been abandoned, your blouse is slipping off your shoulders, exposing sensitive skin that no one has ever had the pleasure to rake their eyes on. 

You’re feeling so many things but they’re all jumbled as one that you can’t even think properly. All you know is that it feels good—no, it feels amazing to have him touch you like this. It’s like riding a roller coaster, the kind that makes you feel exhilarated, excited, and frightened at the same time.

“I—” You flinch, hands gripping his shoulders tightly when he sucks on the skin below your ear. Oh, God...

Donghyuck chuckles, amazed by the train of thought that runs in your head. “Can I take it as a good sign?”

“Please be cheeky another day,” you mutter between short gasps. The way his wet tongue is pressed against the column of your throat sends blood pumping faster through your veins. “I’m both embarrassed and—”

“Turned-on?” Donghyuck suggests but he catches your hand when you try to shove him away by the chest and lets his lips graze against your palm as he grins that stupid grin of his you always love. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I can’t help it. You’re praising me so much in your head, do you know that?”

At this point, is there really a point trying to tell him to stop reading your mind?

“I guess not,” he answers for you. “But if you allow me, I promise to listen and do everything you want. I’m yours for the night.”

You nearly faint. “H-how can you say it so shamelessly like that?”

“Huh?” Donghyuck blinks until his last words find their way back into his mind. Then, he blushes. “I-I mean, not sexually—I—” Losing his mind, he groans and hastily picks you up in his arms, lifting your entire weight off the floor before he carries you to the bed.

When you’re half-sinking into his pillow, he hovers above you, arms on each side of your head, trapping you with no escape. “But since you thought about it that way,” he says, face still aflame but deadly serious, “I guess we could do that too.”

Ah, he’s beautiful, you sigh in your head, he’s beautiful like this. He’s beautiful with his eyes going half-lidded. He’s beautiful with his bangs falling over them. He’s beautiful with his skin slightly glistening with sweat.

“No, don’t—” He cowers, hiding his face on the dip of your neck. His blush blooms from his cheeks down to his throat, ears sizzling hot from hearing your thoughts. “Stop thinking about me like that. I’m not a girl. I’m not beautiful.”

But you are. You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever met. Beautiful smile, beautiful voice, beautiful soul—

“You did not just say that.” The adorable, bashful expression he displays on his face when he finally gains the bravery to peer into your eyes is something you will carve forever in your mind.

“I didn’t say anything,” you mumble out, reaching out to touch his cheek and swallow hard when he leans into your touch like how a kitten would.

“Your thoughts are embarrassing,” he murmurs, playfully biting your index finger. “You know that I’m nothing compared to you, right? No, I’m nothing without you.”

“I’m…” Your breathing rags a little. I’m nothing without you too.

“Good,” he chuckles, slowly trailing his fingers from the column of your neck to the spot between your collarbones. You suck in a sharp intake of breath, knowing how dangerously low his fingers are. “Can I… touch you?” He asks, noticing how jittery you are, not just from your thoughts but your body language. “It’s okay if you want to stop.”

I don’t. I don’t ever want you to stop.

“But isn’t this your first time?” He’s trapped between wanting to make this as memorable for you as possible and wanting to lose control, signing every inch of your skin with his lips. “Wouldn’t you want this to be special?”

And you frown because isn’t this already as special as it can be? Him winning the battle against his own demons for your sake, him devoting himself entirely to you, him looking this ethereal with his lips bruised by your own?

He smiles so tenderly, it surprises you. “Then… I’ll take this off first.” He takes his time toying with the buttons of your dress, popping them open one by one until you’re left in your lingerie and black stockings. When his fingers start to trace the seam of your bra, your hands stop him by reflex.

“I, umm—” You can’t meet his eyes. “I’m—”

What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if I’m too small? What if I look weird?

“What are you talking about?” He airily laughs. “You’re perfect.”

The way he’s so casual about it, not even sounding like he’s praising you to get what he wants—just simply stating out the obvious, calms your heart a little bit. He’s not making a big deal out of this, so why should you?

“No, don’t get me wrong,” he corrects you, leaning back to sit on his heels. His fingers reaching to the top buttons of his shirt. “It is a big deal for me. You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to have you here in my bed, looking like this.” His voice sounds muffled to your ear as you’re too distracted by seeing him undress, his fingers moving until every button is unknotted and he slides the fabric off his shoulders.

You’ve never seen a man stripping out of his clothes in real life, so the sight of his thin muscles contracting in his lean stomach, the way his jeans are hanging low on his hips, the happy trail that disappears behind—

“Whoa, whoa, stop!” Donghyuck hastily slams a hand over your eyes, leaving you blind from your surrounding, and you whine because that was quite a view. “Okay, now I know how you feel. Please shut up before I die from shame.” 

It’s your turn to laugh this time. “Again, I’m not saying anything.”

“Ugh, you’re so—” With his fingers still covering your eyes, Donghyuck kisses you on the mouth and this time it’s more teeth than anything else. His fingers are slipping through your strands, taking a handful of your hair, and guides you toward him. His teeth are grinding against your lower lip, and once you mewl at the sensation, parting your lips wider in response, he sneaks his tongue inside, gliding it against yours.

When he takes his hand away, it moves straight to your spine, unfastening your bra with no hassle and you whimper against his mouth when the cold air hits your bare chest. “You’re perfect,” he moans when his palm finds its way to your breast, cupping it entirely, “You fit right in my hand,” and you feel every syllable directly on your tongue. You’re lightheaded from all the blood that rushes to your face but his kisses are more than enough to serve as a distraction. “How the fuck do boobs feel this amazing when they’re just two lumps of fat?”

The commentary is so Donghyuck that you accidentally bite his lip from laughing at his words. Donghyuck joins in, the chuckles he makes reverberates straight from his chest to yours. It’s funny how it’s your first time doing this yet you don’t feel any fear, not even the slightest. It’s just so easy being with him, so natural, so fun. Passionate kisses turn into playful bites on the skin but they don’t stay innocent for long. Once his thumb rubs over your nipple and his hips pressing down on yours, you notice that things are getting serious.

“It is serious,” he agrees, slightly smirking after he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve never been more serious about anything more in my entire life.” But when you gulp nervously, his seductive smirk turns friendly once again. “I’m just kidding, Sweetheart. Well, not really, no—but—” he quickly adds to avoid you glaring at him to death. “I’ll stop anytime you want. You know that, right? If you feel like it’s too much, just give me a sign and I’ll stop right away.” Then he recalculates about it a little. “Well, maybe not right away when I’m inside but you can just slap me on the head or something. I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You flatly stare back at him, though your heart still palpitates painfully. “Is sex supposed to be like this?”

“Consensual sex is supposed to be like this. I just love you too much to hurt you.”

And then you both stop talking, blinking, breathing, everything.

“What?” You ask, eyes widening.

“What?” Donghyuck panics, looking away. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You love me?”

“I—”

“You just said you loved me.” I know he said he liked me, but… he loves me?

“Well, I—” There’s no escape, he knows it, so with steams practically coming out of his ears, he admits, “Yes! Yes, I love you, you idiot! Do you think I spent months facing my trauma on my own just to sleep with you?”

“But… Isn’t that what we’re going to do?”

“GAH!” He screams into his hands. “You haven’t really said anything with your mouth since we started but once you do, you’re being a smartass. Yes, hopefully, we are going to sleep together. But the main reason I did all of this is because I love you! You’re seriously going to force me to spit my feelings out like this? With your boobs distracting me?”

You’ve never laughed so hard in your life. “I’m sorry, come here.” 

Donghyuck’s pouts don’t instantly falter away when you pepper soft kisses on his face but he eventually gives in when open-mouthed kisses are shared with tongues tasting each other’s breath. And after that, words are no longer needed. Your mind is clouded entirely with him, as he's with you. And only short gasps and softs moans resonate in the air when Donghyuck lets his mouth lingers at your navel, fingers hooking at the edge of your lingerie. He glances at you from behind his fringe, his eyes are hooded and desirous.

“Umm, you—you can—” Your tongue lays heavy on your mouth, your thoughts swirling without control. What do I do? Is he going to be disgusted with how I look? Do I look better—worse than the other girls he’s been with? How do I smell like? Oh, God, I can’t relax—the more I think about the girls he’s been with, the more agitated I am too—

Donghyuck kisses your knuckles, one by one, momentarily stopping your train of thoughts. “There’s only you now,” he whispers, eyes deeper than the sea, “Don’t compare yourself to them, because I certainly won’t. They don’t matter anymore. I only see you now.”

Releasing a heavy breath, you shakily nod. “Okay…”

“Good.” His lips curve upwards, showcasing his teeth in a playful grin. “And as long as you don’t have a dick hanging between your legs, you’re perfect for me. So, may I?”

You're not laughing at his joke but it does make you feel less tense. After seeing your confirmation, Donghyuck doesn’t waste a second. It almost drives you insane to lay still on the bed when he settles himself between your legs, parting your thighs as wide as you’ll allow him to by planting his lips on the inner parts, licking all his way up until he’s pressing against your core.

“As I thought,” he says, tongue darting out sinfully, “You’re perfect.”

Your hand immediately jolt up to cover your mouth, eyes shutting as you thrash against his pillow.

Donghyuck sneaks a glance every once in a while, focusing on both pleasuring you and listening to your thoughts, but when you can barely think of anything but his tongue inside your heat, he relies on deciphering the way your body moves.

It’s not his first time, but it is his first time with you and Donghyuck is more than eager to learn what satisfies you the most. He changes from soft kisses to obscene licks but what makes you tremble to your toes is when he sucks on a particular spot.

W-what was that? That felt so good.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, both curious and teasing. “Here?” He teases, kissing your clit to make you shiver but you mewl because that wasn’t how he did it before. “Okay, okay,” he chuckles, “Like this?” This time, he does it exactly like before, gently sucking at the sensitive bud. The sheets are all crumpled from how desperate you latch your fingers onto them. 

Oh my God, that feels insane.

Loving your reaction, Donghyuck sucks harder. You’re biting hard on your knuckles until he stops his ministrations, just to pry your hand away. “It’s such a waste,” he says, every mischievous look he usually displays has disappeared without a trace. “I want to hear your voice.”

It’s cruel, he’s so cruel like this but he drags your hand to his hair and moans when you tug at his roots a little harder than you're supposed to. Just for once, you don’t care if you’re being loud. You don’t care if you’re being embarrassing. You just want to focus on him, to feel him, to—

“Come, Sweetheart.”

It’s such an unfamiliar sensation and it scares you how intense it feels. It hits you like a powerful rush that slowly subsides in seconds but you’re left dazed and hazy way longer. Donghyuck kneels on the bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes clouded with lust. 

“Hyuck…”

“I’m sorry,” he says, hovering above you once more, one hand going to his jeans to let himself out of his confinement. “I want to give you some time to relax after that, but I’m—” He hisses when he curls his fingers around himself. “I’m at my limit.”

You shakily nod, cowering a little under his hungry gaze. “O-okay…”

“Thanks,” he exhales in relief, reaching out to the drawer on his nightstand to grab a packet of a condom before he tears it open shortly with his teeth.

Why does he have it? Does he do this a lot? How often does he bring girls to his bed?

“No," he says, and if he wasn't too distracted with how hard he was, he would’ve probably rolled his eyes. “Jeno gave me this as a birthday gift, saying that men should always be prepared. I kept this because it’s stupid and I'm gonna give it back for his birthday gift.” But when he rolls the rubber down his length, he adds, "Thank God he gave me this though. Running down to the store downstairs just to get a condom at times like this would just kill me.”

You frown. But isn’t it possible for couples to have sex without condoms? Like, can’t he just come on my stomach or something?

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swears, gradually losing his sanity. “Yes. Yes, we can do that. I’d love to come on your face—stomach, but let’s just take one step at a time, okay, Sweetheart?”

You squint your eyes. “Did you just say ‘face’?”

“I—” He sighs, resting his weight on his elbows that are placed on the sides of your head. “Can I be inside you now? Please?”

It’s stupid that he’s using his puppy eyes at a lewd situation like this and it’s stupider that you fall for them. “Yes.”

You expect his kisses to be consuming, forceful enough to rob your entire breath from your lungs but he’s unusually gentle—gentler than even the first kiss you shared with him. His touch is paper-thin, making every kiss feels sacred like the one that’s pure enough to be shared on your wedding day. You begin to relax, exhaling softly into his mouth.

Donghyuck slides in slowly—so agonizingly so for him—yet for you, the world still spins too fast. Your breath hitched up in your throat, nails sinking into his bare shoulders. “Wait—Hyuck—It hurts! It hurts, so— ”

“I know—” His eyebrows are furrowed, slightly gritting his teeth as he pushes again. “I know it hurts, but—”

You’re clutching onto his neck as if you’re holding on for dear life. He’s tearing you apart inch-by-inch and it’s so painful, tears start to well in your eyes. Noticing that, Donghyuck stops, checking your profile. “Shit, you’re crying—” He panics, wiping the tear away before it slides down your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You let him kiss your lips before you reply, “Is it—are you—” You’re lost for words but thankfully Donghyuck is not.

“I’m not even halfway in, honestly.” He grins but it looks more like a wince. “Think you can handle a bit more?”

“Jesus Christ, how big are you?”

“A normal size, Sweetheart, but I’m glad you’re thinking that way.” The wink is unnecessary but it still brings a smile to your face. After a few more seconds of waiting for you to catch your breath, he tries again. This time, you’re more prepared for the pain so when he finally lets out a drawn-out moan, his temple lying still on your chest, saying, “Okay, that’s all of me now,” you can help but to think wait, that’s it?

“Yah!” He pinches your cheek, pouting. “What’s with that tone?”

You grin in return. “Maybe you’re not as big as I thought.”

“You little—” But when your hips move to dodge his attempt at pinching your cheek, Donghyuck flinches, and you can feel him twitching inside you. “Fuck, okay,” he hisses impatiently, “There’s no time for this. I’m so turned on, it’s physically painful.”

You caress his cheek, beaming at him with adoration in your eyes because that’s the only way he should be perceived. “Then make me yours.”

“Fucking hell.” Donghyuck kisses you with the desperation of a drowning man searching for air, and when his hips move, it still hurts but the pain gradually lessens when he adds pleasure to other parts of your body using his hands and lips. You close your eyes, noticing how he quickly picks up the pace, his thrusts going out of rhythm as his nails sink into the skin of your hips. But when you’re about to let yourself drown in the passion of it all, the words “I love you” escape your lips, and Donghyuck moans loud and long against your ear at the sound.

Then he stops.

He’s hiding his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard so you can’t tell his expression. “Are you…” You wet your lip. “Are you done?”

It takes a few seconds before he stutters out, “Y-yes.”

“Is it… usually this fast?”

“No!” He wheezes, pulling away with his face practically catching on fire. “I swear I usually don’t come this fast—you’re just—ugh—” He gnaws at the skin of your neck, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. “You’re just so warm and tight inside, it’s too much. It felt too good for me.” He’s almost inaudible when he confesses, “And when you said you loved me, I just… I couldn’t handle it.”

Ashamed by his words but feel loved, you cradle his head with your arms. “God, I’m so in love with you, it’s insane.” You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re being carried away by the moment, maybe you’re still basking in the afterglow, but you can no longer suppress your thoughts. “I’ve never felt like this, didn’t even know I could feel something so intensely like this for someone. And it scares me. It scares me that I’m so attached to you. You don’t know how much it tore me apart when I stopped hearing your voice completely in my head. It was the only thing that kept you connected to me and now that I lost it, I was so afraid that you’d disappear from my life entirely.”

I don’t want us to lose our bond. If that’s what keeps you connected to me, I don’t ever want to lose it.

Those were the feelings he’d confessed, and now you’re saying them back to him even when those words never reached your ears. Donghyuck’s entire world stops revolving. 

Your words flow down without filter, letting him know every bit of him that you love, every single feeling he’s made you felt from the second you met him, and Donghyuck responded to each loving word with a smile, or a shy giggle or a kiss when he can’t hold it back any longer. 

“And I hate that I can’t even listen to the songs I used to love.” You can hear your voice breaking again and you’ll probably cry if you keep pouring your heart out, but you can’t stop. “Those songs—they don’t have your voice. I’m so used to have you singing in my head that I couldn’t stay calm when I couldn’t hear it.”

“Then I’ll sing for you,” he says, between soft chuckles and softer kisses. “As much as you want, until—”

You circle your arms around his neck, bringing him down to consume his lips with enough passion to last for a lifetime. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Lee Donghyuck,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek when he’s dazed with no ability to find the words. “I just wish the sex was longer.”

“Aaaand it’s over,” he sighs, glaring at the ceiling. “The magic is gone. You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

You giggle. “You would’ve known from hearing my thoughts anyway.”

“I—” Then he blinks, eyes growing wide, his hand going to his head. “Wait.” He knits his eyebrows together as he focuses every thought on you, trying to read you but nothing can be heard. His hands begin to move frantically. “Think about something—think about me, quick!”

“But I have been—” You lean up on your elbows. “Is it broken? Our connection?”

“I don’t know.” Donghyuck’s shoulders sag in dismay. “But I can no longer hear you.” 

You try to say something in your mind but Donghyuck doesn’t pick up the trace. It’s gone. It’s really over. It’s funny that it was something you both dreaded at first, something that you have tried your best trying to put an end to it, and the second it’s over, it feels like a part of you is missing. As if you’re torn apart, with nothing but memories of it to hold.

You both exchange stares in silence, unsure of what to say. Donghyuck is the first one to break the ice, lacing his fingers with yours as he carries you to his lap, face facing each other.

“Are you okay?” He asks, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. “Do you feel any pain?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t even realize it was gone.”

“Why do you look so sad?” He chuckles, even when he’s heartbroken just as much as you, if not more. “Aren’t you glad that you finally have some privacy for yourself?”

At the sight of your eyes drooping in sadness, Donghyuck leans in to land a kiss between your eyebrows. "Hey," he says, "We don’t have to have that bond to be connected. I’m already yours."

You smile a little at his words. “It’s just…” You embrace him, and he settles his chin on top of your head. “That was, like… our thing.” 

He titters. "Then let’s just make another one. How about…” He pushes you back to the bed, lying on your side but keep your fingers intertwined with his. The way he’s beaming at you reminds you of a child. “A penny for your thoughts?”

It’s the sweetest sound, the way your small laughter is mixed with his. Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you say, “I hate that idiom.”

***

A/N: 

Thank you for reading, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story. I’m sorry that it’s 36k, I hope you didn’t get bored. Special thanks to @flopim @alexwhatiam​ and @rosiewool for being my first readers and giving me such kind reviews. I wouldn’t have found the bravery to post this if it wasn’t for you guys. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan timestamps #nct smut #nct fluff #donghyuck smut #donghyuck fluff #nct imagines #haechan imagines #nct scenarios

[kim-seung-mo]

Lonesome Nights (Part Three)

Lee Minho x fem!Reader, slight Hwang Hyunjin x fem!Reader

♩angst to smut (?) to fluff, arranged marriage au, non-idol au, romance, oral (female receiving), handjob (male receiving), no penetrative sex, hair pulling (male receiving), kinda sorta dom!reader but not really, emotion overflow, a lot of crying, minho has Ombrophobia and Astraphobia (fear of rain and thunder)

♩♩ word count: 15.1k (oh my god)

♩♩♩ A/N: oh dear I suck at writing smut but trust me when I say I tried qaq

read part two here

The weather has been muggy since you woke up today. It felt like it was going to rain. And Minho has been acting a bit weird since the moment he got up. First of all, he didn't wake you up when he did, but got up alone and went directly to the bathroom. You woke up while he was in the shower. You felt a tinge of unease at not being woken up by him, but you didn't take it seriously at the time.

What made you really realize that there was something odd going on with him was when he got out of the shower. He dried his hair with a towel and tossed it into the dirty clothes box next to the bathroom before leaving the master bedroom without a glance at you. Your eyes followed his back, your mind filled with confusion. With that doubt, you got up from the bed, put on your slippers, and went into the bathroom to wash up a bit before leaving the master bedroom as well.

Minho wasn't cooking breakfast nor had he switched on the TV, he was just sitting on the couch staring blankly ahead, not even moving. It was so odd, you'd never seen him like this before. You tried to shift to his side, but then your phone rang unexpectedly. When you looked down, it read "Chris" in the caller's name. It was barely ten o'clock, so why was Chan calling you? You pressed the answer button and held the phone to your ear.

"Oh my God Y/N! You won't believe what I'm about to say!" He sounded very excited, perhaps even more so than when he found out you and Minho were engaged. "I think I'm getting signed to a record label!"

Your eyes lit up at those words. You and Chan had become very close friends over the months. Although you always acted like you resented him, he did become an integral part of your life. You were so proud of him when you heard that he was able to achieve his dream.

"Oh my God Chris! I'm not dreaming, am I? When did this happen?"

"Just now! They sent me an email asking me to prepare for an interview! It's today! At Insomnia! Because it seems they're gonna ask me to do an interview in addition to the audition, and they want me to tell them about my work and stuff! So… for that reason……" Oh, so he didn't just call you to share his joy, he was asking for something. "Y/N! Can you come over and help me out? This interview is really important to me!"

You heard Chan's excited voice on the other side of the line and couldn't think of a reason to refuse. But then you thought of Minho, and you turned your head to look at him. He was still sitting there as still as he had just been, not moving at all, as if he didn't know you were on the phone.

"Yes I can, but do you want me to come over now?" You were a little worried about Minho's situation right now, and you wanted to make sure he was taken care of first if you could. "I've got a bit of business on my end."

"As soon as possible! They're already on their way! I have to at least pretend like it's busy here… Please Y/N, this really means a lot to me! It's a chance I might never get a second time in my life… I'll thank you for the rest of my life, I really will!"

You pursed your lips and finally agreed to his words. "Okay, I'll go now then."

You looked at the casual attire you were wearing and decided that it wasn't appropriate to meet Chan like that, so you turned around and went upstairs to change into something nicer. A simple white dress without too much decoration on it, it was one of your favorite dresses. As for the reason…… You didn't really want to remember now. You shouldn't have to wear anything too formal for the interview, not to mention that it wasn't you who was going to be interviewed, it was Chan, you just needed to be there for moral support and help. With that in mind, you smiled with satisfaction at yourself in the mirror and decided to just go downstairs. But when you got down to the door and were about to put on your shoes, Minho, who hadn't said a word, suddenly spoke up.

"Where are you going?" Somehow he was already standing behind you. You didn't even hear him come up to you.

"Chris is going to be interviewed by a record company and I have to go help-" "Don't go."

He interrupted before you could finish. It was then that you looked up at him. His hair hadn't quite dried out, but the dampness in his eyes wasn't supposed to be from a shower. Plus, his pupils seemed to be trembling. It seemed as if he was afraid of something. He tightened his grip on your wrist, his hands were also cold, unlike the warm ones you were familiar with.

"Minho?" you frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't go." He repeated the same words.

It was drizzling outside, seeing this, your other hand reached for the cabinet off to the side and pulled an umbrella from it. His gesture hadn't changed, his breathing uneven, still staring at you.

"It's something important to Chris, and I have to go help him. Besides, what am I staying for? Don't you have work today?" You thought for a moment. "That's right, it's Tuesday. Don't you have corporate meetings on Tuesdays?"

But he just looked so odd.

"What's wrong?"

His hands relaxed a little, followed by a couple of steps backwards, as if realizing that he'd scared you with such perverse actions. He pursed his lips and lowered his head to take a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

"Minho?" "Don't go… Please……"

His head remains lowered, making it impossible for you to see his expression. Your heart felt full of doubt, but you decided to hurry up with him after thinking of Chan's anxious state over there.

"Do you have a reason? I'm leaving if you don't have a reason." "……"

He didn't give you an answer. Any other day you would have dropped everything and helped him over to the couch for a few more questions, but today was a different story, and Chan was right, this interview could be a chance he'd never get a second time. If his music dreams were ruined because you weren't there, you'd hate yourself for the rest of your life. So even though you were very concerned about Minho, you didn't ask any more questions, turned around and pushed the door open and left.

After messaging Changbin to tell him he won't need to pick you up today, you open your umbrella and set off in the direction of Insomnia. Chan was scrambling to tidy up when you arrived, wearing a somewhat amusing suit, pairing that with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. A completely different person from the Chan you were used to spending time with. But there was something really funny about him cleaning in that outfit. You pushed the door open and put the umbrella aside before hastily taking the broom and dustpan from his hands. When he saw that you had finally arrived, he asked you for your opinion on his outfit and you couldn't fool him, telling him straight away that there was really no need to be so formal. The people at the record company were supposed to be looking at his talent rather than his appearance, therefore he just had to be himself. After you said that, he nodded in agreement and went upstairs to change his clothes. When he came back down, he was wearing his regular outfit.

Maybe Chan had miscalculated the time, because the record company people didn't show up for a long time. Chan was falling asleep waiting, and if you hadn't been there, the interviewer would have come in and found him asleep at the counter.

After waiting with Chan for quite some time, it was noon and still no one was there. You began to regret coming out of the house without listening to Minho's explanation. What if there was some special reason why he wouldn't let you go? With that in mind, you were about to take out your phone and call him, but before you could get it out, there was a knock at the door, followed by someone coming in. It was the people from the record company. A man who was conducting the interview and a man who looked like a cameraman.

Quickly putting away the phone and shaking Chan, who was about to fall asleep, you guys were ready to start the interview. After a brief self introduction, you quietly retreated to the side to do your daily cleaning duties, and Chan did seem to relax a bit with you there. You were proud of him for not stuttering when he introduced his creative ideas and answered questions. The music playing in the background was a new album he had just played for you and Changbin the other day.

After a couple of hours of interviewing, the interviewers started to ask about the cafe. Chan stood up to introduce them to the cafe and to introduce the only other employee in the cafe, you. Chan got even more relaxed as he told the story of how you two first met, adding a lot of extra details to the story that never happened. You just shook your head from the sidelines, deciding not to correct him.

After that, they started talking about professional subjects in music, which you gradually started to lose track of, and started to think of other things. That is, what happened to Minho this morning. You wondered how he was doing and whether he had got to work without any problems. He should be at his office working by now at this hour. You don't want to disturb him, so instead of calling, you took out your phone and sent a message to Jisung asking about it, and glanced at the time. It was almost five o'clock. You didn't even realize that it had been so long. Chan asked you to make a couple of coffees for the guests, so you confirmed that the message had been sent and put your phone away.

It was almost dinner time when Chan told you that he had his own kitchen upstairs so you could see what was in the fridge and make something for everyone to eat. You had left in a hurry this morning and hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. It was true that you were a little hungry at this point, and you were sure Chan was too. So even though it felt a little strange to have to enter a single man's house by yourself, you went upstairs.

Chan's home was modest, with the living room and kitchen joined together and no separate dining room. There was nothing in the living room but a couch, a coffee table and a TV. There were only two rooms next to each other, one of which was the bathroom and the other must have been his bedroom and studio. You took a casual glance and immediately headed for his kitchen and opened the somewhat miniature fridge.

There was hardly anything in his fridge, the complete opposite of what Minho had at home. Apart from whipped cream that had been frozen, presumably for making coffee, there were only a few energy drinks. No real food at all. You close the fridge and look around, trying to find instant food like instant noodles, but you couldn't find anything but granola bars. You couldn't have four people eating granola bars for dinner. With that in mind, you pulled out your phone and clicked on the take-out app.

It was raining heavily, but it was the only way you could get food right now……. You'll have to give the delivery guy a 5-star review and extra tip. So after a few moments of flicking through the take-out app, you ordered some food for the four of you.

Thinking that there was probably no point in you going downstairs now, you might as well sit in Chan's living room for a while. You made your way to the living room and turned on the TV. There was nothing interesting on at this time of day, after all, dramas don't come on until around eight o'clock, so you turned on a variety show that nobody watched. In a flash, 40 minutes had gone by.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, your phone rang. It was the take-out that had arrived. At the same time, you saw a red dot on your messenger app.

Han Jisung: "It's raining today."

That was all he wrote back to you, a strange statement.

But just as you were about to ask further, Chan called you from downstairs, and with the fact that you were indeed starving right now, you immediately forgot about it. You went straight downstairs to eat.

During dinner, the four of you started talking about things other than music, like Chan's background, and Chan was very generous with his stories, not hiding anything. That was something you envied, you couldn't be as open about your background as Chan and not be afraid of people having strange thoughts.

Chan said he was indeed born into a relatively wealthy family. He has a younger brother and a younger sister, who he claims was better suited to carry on the family business than he was. His sister seemed to think so too. His family was from Australia, so perhaps they were more open-minded. Chan said that when he first told his parents that he wanted to make music, they didn't stop him, they were even supportive. The cafe he ran now was funded by his father. It seemed that Chan's parents loved him dearly.

You couldn't help but feel a little jealous as he told this story.

It was 7pm by the time dinner was over, and the interview went on for another two hours or so. You were more interested because it was about his own life, something you could understand, so you sat aside and listened carefully. It was pouring outside, more so than before. You glanced at the weather forecast and it appeared that thunder was going to strike later. This was the first time it had rained since you had moved in with Minho. With such heavy rain, you wondered if Minho was going to have a hard time getting back. Wait, did Minho even go to work? But even if he did, he should be home bu now.

You remembered Jisung's strange comment from earlier and took out your phone again.

You: "So does that mean yes or no?"

Jisung was probably busy, you waited for a few minutes but didn't get an answer.

"So, Mr. Bang, that's the end of our interview for today."

You looked up at those words. The interviewer was shaking Chan's hand, confirming what you had just heard. You glanced at your watch again; it was almost ten o'clock. This interview had gone on for a full nine hours. There were breaks in between, but after such a long interview, you'd be the first person to be angry if the record company refused to sign Chan in the end.

"Thank you guys, really. I'm looking forward to getting a response." Chan's voice was a little hoarse, but still looked cheerful as always. He then frowned after glancing out the window at the rain. "Are you guys going to be okay going back with all this rain? Do you need to stay with us for a while longer until the rain stops?"

The cameraman beside the interviewer waved his hand. "It's not going to stop raining today, there's going to be thunder later, it's better to leave now before it gets even worse. If we stay any longer, we won't be able to leave for sure. It's strange huh, how it only rains twice a year here, and each time it's like the end of the world."

Chan nodded. "It's a good thing we're so high up here, otherwise we'd be flooded with all this rain, wouldn't we?"

After a few more moments of conversation around the subject of rain, you walked the two out of Insomnia with Chan.

Once the doors were closed, Chan slid down with his back against them and let out a huge breath in the process.

"Good job, Chris." "You too, you really did me a big——favor. I don't even know how to properly thank you……"

You smiled and held out your hand to pull him up. He smiled back and thanked you before taking a couple of steps to get behind the cash register. From the small cooler under the register, he took out two ice creams. "Want some? I've been saving these for a long time. They're only for important times like this! There're only two left, so you can share them with me."

You waved your hand. "Go ahead and eat it yourself, save the other one for when you've officially signed with them. I ate a bit too much just now. Not hungry at all." And you weren't lying, you really weren't very hungry right now, nor did you really want ice cream. "Your offer is appreciated though."

He grunted before putting the other ice cream back in the freezer.

"Then you have to at least give me a hug, I have to show my appreciation somehow, right?" He ripped the wrapper off the ice cream before walking towards you and opening his arms. "Or maybe hugs aren't allowed? Because Minho gets jealous?"

You rolled your eyes. "Are you going to eat the ice cream or hug me?"

He grinned. "Both."

He took you in his arms; Chan wasn't much taller than you, your chin rested right on his shoulder as you two hugged. He grinned and swayed from side to side like a little child who hadn't grown up. "Y/N, really, thank you. I've been so immersed in the world of music that I haven't had a friend like you in a long time. Thank you for showing up in my life and being my friend. Thank you really."

You couldn't help but smile at such a melodramatic and somewhat corny comment. "Thank me for what, I'm the one who has to thank you."

He ends the hug and looks at you with a somewhat puzzled look, licking the nearly melting ice cream in the process. "Thank me? I didn't do anything, did I?"

You smiled again as you remembered the "ring incident" that had happened a while ago.

"Minho," you said.

And just as you were about to continue, you suddenly heard the sound of the doorbell ringing behind you. Taken aback, you turn to look. Then froze.

"Y/N?"

The visitor froze in place just as you did, dropping the rain-soaked backpack in his hand to the floor.

For a moment, it was like your heart stopped. Even the sound of the rain outside the window disappeared. It was as if the world had paused.

"…….Hyunjin?"

Ten seconds, thirty seconds, a minute, and so time passed. Only the ticking of the pendulum on the wall and the sound of the rain slowly reappearing outside the window reminded you that time was not frozen.

Hyunjin simply stared at you, pupils quivering, breathing heavily, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He wanted to say something, but every time he took a breath, wanting to speak, he didn't know what to say. Finally, he took his eyes off you and looked at Chan, who was standing behind you, who had also remained still since Hyunjin walked in.

"You're Lee Minho?" He asked in a barely audible voice.

Chan frowned, "Who are you? We're closed today-" "Answer me!"

Hyunjin gritted his teeth and took a few steps to walk up to him, but you pulled his wrist as he passed you. The moment you made contact with him, both of you stiffened for a moment.

"Hyunjin…he's not." You said in a firm tone. But Hyunjin still looked unconvinced, glancing in Chan's direction and then at you, finally clenching his fist somewhat defiantly.

"But you just called him-" "I said he isn't. Hyunjin, don't be unreasonable."

You did your best to hide the emotion in your eyes. It seemed to work, because Hyunjin looked desperately into your eyes at the sound of your emotionless voice, trying to find something familiar in them, but all he saw was coldness.

The words 'you weren't like this before' were written on his face. He was the same as before, unable to hide any feelings. Just one look and you could see right through him.

"Chris, I'm sorry, could you excuse me? I…" You raised Hyunjin's wrist, and clutched it in your hand, "I need to have a word with him."

Chan nodded though there was a moment's hesitation. After throwing you a worried look, at last, he turned and walked up the stairs.

At that moment, a loud thunderclap struck, and you felt your phone vibrate in your trouser pocket, probably a text message from Jisung. But you didn't have time to read it. Your eyes were still on Hyunjin, your mind full of questions. But more than that, there was anger.

After Chan closed the door upstairs behind you, you let go of Hyunjin's hand.

"Why are you here?" You asked in a cold voice.

He heard your unwelcome tone and felt his heart ache just a little. His brow tightened, the wetness in his eyes unsure if it was from the rain or from himself.

"I… came, to see you……"

You frowned in return, "How did you know I was here?"

Hyunjin pursed his lips and tried to reach for your hand again, but you turned gently sideways and didn't let him. When he saw how resistant you were, he had to take two steps back, distancing himself from you.

"It's just a coincidence that I'm here… I didn't expect…… to see you here." The look in his eyes still full of love. But that happened to be the last thing you wanted to see right now. "I can't believe we're just going to end like this."

"I thought what I said in my text-" "That wasn't you at all!"

Hyunjin interrupted you, the raindrops hanging in his hair dripping down as a result of the cry.

"Y/N! I've known you for so many years… You simply…… You wouldn't talk to me like that…… I know you must-" He choked out a sob as his emotions took over again. You saw the corners of his eyes redden for a moment, and his breathing, which had just calmed down, rushed up again. He ducked his head, not wanting you to see him cry, his nose sniffled as he let out a shaky breath. "Y/N…I feel like I'm dying."

Coming from his mouth, these words would normally be an exaggeration. But now, at this very moment, seeing the way he's lost his mind, running through the rain to come to your city to find you… And the dark circles under his eyes, the bloodshot eyes, the dry, chapped lips, the cold hand you just held…… Maybe he wasn't exaggerating when he said he was "dying" just now.

"I don't believe it. No matter what you say in your text messages… I don't believe it. I don't even know how many times you must have edited those messages, how long you thought about them… That must be just crap you made up to deceive me……" He dropped the hand covering his face, but his eyes remained closed. "I found you just from hiding from the rain, doesn't this mean that we're meant to be? This is why… That is why I don't accept anything you say in your text messages. I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself. I want…I have to keep loving you…"

There was truth in what he said. It was true that you deleted and rewrote the message you sent him, again and again, back and forth several times like that before you sent it. It was true that you weren't as firm as you sounded like, but you weren't unfirm about your feelings, rather about how to get him to give up.

"Hyunjin…we're done. We…… never even started. If we never even start, why are you so upset? There are countless people in this world who are better than me. Why does if have to-" "Because you still love me… Don't you?"

You were silent. Not because you didn't know… Rather, because you didn't know how to tell him.

But he took your silence for your uncertainty. With a thud, he fell to his knees.

"If you still love me, why don't you give me another chance? Why did you give up on me? I… I would never want more… I just want to be with you… I just need you to love me. I wouldn't want anything more than a relationship with you, I wouldn't expect to marry you. I will never be jealous of Lee Minho, I will never hate him …… All I want is for you to love me …… Please, Y/N…?"

"No." Without even a second's hesitation, you rejected him. His eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected you to reject his plea so quickly. But he was just about to make another move when you continued to speak. "You shouldn't… You can't lower yourself to anyone like this. Especially… Not in a relationship. Absolutely not."

Such relationships with one-sided effort will only hurt you in the end.

Why couldn't he understand this?

"Fine then, I won't beg you…" He stood up, his eyes still damp. He still didn't understand you at all. "I just want you to tell me that you still love me… In your heart, I still-"

"Hwang Hyunjin!" you shouted, finally unable to resist. "Did you even hear what I just said?! Must I put it that bluntly for you to understand?!"

You called him by his full name, you had never called him by his full name like that before. You've never been angry with him. At least not as angry as you were today.

You thought he would be taken aback slightly at hearing such a tone of voice from you, but the frustration in his heart was ignited into anger at this point as well by your words.

"I don't get it! I don't understand! Nor do I want to understand! All I want to know is… Why are you acting like I don't mean anything to you anymore? Why? Are you being forced by Lee Minho? Did he do something to you-"

"That's enough! You don't understand, do you? If you don't understand, I'll tell you more bluntly. Hyunjin, you're not the right person."

Another thunderclap fell and Hyunjin's heart seemed to skip a beat. His eyes went wide, and if there had been a hint of sadness in his eyes earlier, there was nothing but disbelief at this point.

"… What do you mean? What do you mean I'm "not… the right person"? Lee Minho… is he the right person? But you're not even-"

Hyunjin's words were interrupted by a ringing tone, the ringing of your phone, someone calling you.

You took out your phone and looked at it, only to see "Minho" written on the dialer. It was Minho calling you. And when you looked at the time, it was almost eleven o'clock.

"Don't answer… Answer me, what do you mean by that?"

You wanted to answer the phone, but you didn't want to leave Hyunjin hanging at the same time. Besides, it would be rude to answer the phone in the middle of a conversation. So you didn't answer it, even though you were concerned about Minho, and let it continue to ring on. You looked back in Hyunjin's direction, no longer hiding the feelings in your eyes. You stroke the ring on your middle finger and felt the warmth of it. It was like feeling the warmth from Minho. The corners of your mouth begin to rise at the thought of him.

"I mean exactly what you think I mean, Jinnie…" you deliberately switch to the nickname you used to call him to show how serious you are. "He is the right person… I don't know how he thinks of me, but… I love him."

His eyes fell on your finger, the ring, too, at last.

"Love…" Hyunjin gritted his teeth, not knowing how to react for a moment when he heard that word come out of your mouth. That was probably something he had given you a lot of, and something he had thought you had for him. When you first met, he wondered if you remember. It was his goal to make you learn how to love someone. He thought he had taught you long ago… He thought that you had never confessed your love to him, perhaps because you didn't know how to, or perhaps because you were waiting for him to take the initiative. What he didn't expect was… Perhaps you never had feelings like "love" for him. Now here you are, the word coming out of your mouth, not to him, but to another person… Someone you've only known for less than two months…… He really didn't know what to think.

Maybe he really wasn't the right person.

"You love him?"

You nodded.

"Jinnie, I love him."

In that moment, it was as if all the jealousy, all the discontentment, all the sadness and grief disappeared. It was only for a few brief seconds. But after hearing you say those words with such sincerity, in that moment… He was happy for you.

"It's love, not fondness… Not admiration, not other feelings… but love, isn't it? You want to be with him for the rest of your life, you want him to have all the happiness in the world, your heart tears at the sight of him being sad, you want to give him everything you have, you have eyes for him alone, you think of him all the time… Is that what you feel like?"

These words, he didn't know who he was saying them to. Was he describing his feelings for you, or was he really asking for your answer?

To you, the old you, the one who had just met Hyunjin, these feelings he had just described were things you had not experienced. But as he was talking, as each of these examples came out of his mouth. In your head, it was all Minho indeed.

"I want to be with him forever."

"……"

Hyunjin put his head down, and his clenched hand loosened. At the same time, he laughed out loud.

You thought it was a self-mocking laugh and were just about to say something when he took two steps in your direction and then cupped your face.

"Y/N…" the emotion in his eyes changed again, a little similar to sadness, but different. His eyes were smiling, and it made you feel slightly puzzled. "You love him."

But there's no doubt in your mind about that anymore.

"I love him."

He smiled again, this time a somewhat helpless smile. "Why didn't you tell me earlier that it was because you were in love with him? Not once did you mention your feelings in your text messages… I thought that you were ready to sacrifice your happiness for your dad's company. If that's the case, there's nothing you could have said that would make me give up." He pressed his lips together and continued, "But if it's because you're in love with him… Then you have to be happy." His thumb traces the corner of your eye and rests on your cheek. "Though now I'm really wondering how on earth that man managed to do what I couldn't do for years… But if you say so…… Well, then you must be happy, even… Even if it's not with me. I won't ask you for anything else, I only have this one wish. Prove to me with your own happiness… It's the right decision to give you up, is that okay?"

You took his wrist in yours, and this time you were smiling too.

"I'll try."

Hyunjin let go of your face, his eyes were still on you. But the atmosphere between you was completely different from what it had been a few minutes ago. You knew he still felt terrible inside, but he was still smiling. Hyunjin was an important, very important, perhaps the most important friend to you. Although your feelings for him were no longer romantic, you still hoped from the bottom of your heart that he would be happy.

"Jinnie, you have to be happy too." You suddenly called out to him as he was about to leave. "You have to prove to me too… You were right to give up on me."

He turned his back to you and waved his hand at you, meaning yes.

You watched as he was about to push the door open and leave, and suddenly called out to him again like you remembered something.

"What's wrong this time? Are you going to let me go or not?"

You ran to the door and handed him the umbrella you had brought with you in the morning, which you had left by the door. "You take this with you. You'll definitely catch a cold if you keep soaking in the rain. I'll just call Minho later."

He looked at the umbrella in your hand, and then at you. "No need."

"But Hyunjin-" "Sad endings go well with rain."

"Besides, if I get a really bad cold and a fever that just burns away all my feelings for you…… It would be so much easier."

You couldn't help but laugh at his wonky argument. "You're saying weird things again."

He picked up the backpack he had dropped on the floor earlier and looked back at you one last time.

"By the way, Y/N…I'm definitely not showing up for your wedding."

With those words, Hyunjin disappears into the rainy night.

The rain probably wasn't going to stop or get any lighter. It was raining even harder now compared to when Hyunjin left a few minutes ago. Not only was it raining, but it was also windy. Even if you go out with an umbrella, you'll only get blown away.

With that thought, you switch on your phone to call Minho and ask him to come and pick you up.

But then you suddenly remember that he called you earlier when you were talking to Hyunjin.

1 missed call from: Minho today at 10:58 PM

1 new voice message from: Minho today at 10:59 PM

The voice message was only three seconds long, so you immediately clicked on it.

A small, subtle voice comes through, so subtle you almost didn't hear it.

"Please… Come back……"

He was crying.

Realizing this, you felt your heart tighten and clicked on the text messages from Jisung again.

After a quick read, you suddenly felt that nothing mattered anymore.

Without even taking your umbrella, without even saying goodbye to Chan, you pushed open the door of the cafe and ran out.

4 new text message from: Han Jisung today at 10:40 PM

Han Jisung: "Boss has a phobia of rain and thunder."

Han Jisung: "Wait, aren't you with Boss, Miss Y/N?"

Han Jisung: "You weren't with him this whole day?"

Han Jisung: "Miss Y/N??"

That's why he reacted that way this morning, that's why he begged you not to leave… He had begged you, he was already that abnormal, you could see that he was abnormal, why were you so stupid, why didn't you stay with him? Why didn't you just ask again? You know he's stubborn and feisty, so why didn't you ……Why why why why why……

By the time you got home, there wasn't a dry spot left on your body. Your hair was all over your face and some of it had even gotten into your mouth. You've been running for almost ten minutes straight and were on the verge of running out of breath, but none of that mattered.

The living room was pitch black, or rather the entire 1st floor was in complete darkness. There was no sign of Minho.

You quickly shut the front door and ran upstairs without even taking off your shoes.

It was dark on the 2nd floor too. Your heart went cold again.

Your first instinct was to go to his office, but there was no one there. Then came the bedroom.

The moment you pushed open the bedroom door, there was another loud thunderclap outside the window. Immediately afterwards, you heard a small whimper from the other side of the bed. With the little flash of light from the lightning, you saw Minho, curled up in bed with his ears tightly covered, next to his phone.

For a moment, you were relieved to see him. But when you heard his whimpers, you immediately stepped forward and, not caring that you were covered in rain, stomped off your shoes and climbed onto the bed.

"Minho…" you tried to call out, but he didn't respond. Thinking that maybe he didn't hear you, you reached out and tried to touch his shoulder, only to see him immediately flinch away as if he had been electrocuted. Nothing but fear was in his eyes, eyes that should be bright and clear.

He should never have had such an expression on his face.

When the panic slowly faded and he recognized that it was you in front of him, two streams of tears instantly fell. As if he had broken down, he threw himself at you like a madman and dove into your arms, his hands clutching yours so tightly that he didn't let go even when his nails were clamped into the back of your hand. There was no part of his body that wasn't trembling, and… Although it was you who was soaked in rain, his body temperature was even cooler than yours.

He made helpless, child-like sobs, worse than when he had his panic attack that night. His mouth kept repeating the same words over and over again. But perhaps because he was crying, or perhaps because he was shivering, you couldn't hear a single word.

You tried to calm him down, but he locked you in his arms, leaving no room for you to move. Then again, in a situation like this, he wouldn't have been able to understand much of what you were saying…

He held you like that for the next three minutes, mumbling strange and incomprehensible words. It was only when he let go of your hand to cover his ears for another thunderclap that you were able to hold him back and stroke the back of his head.

"You're -still- alive…… Not, not dead, still… A-alive, you're not dead……"

It was now that you finally understood what he was saying. But after hearing it, you got even more confused.

Why would he think you were dead?

But this wasn't supposed to be the time to ask the question, and all you could do was cater to his words.

"Yes, I'm not dead… Minho, look… I'm not dead. I'm right here… I'm sorry… Don't cry, Minho…… calm down……"

You helped him cover his ears together, resting your forehead against his, murmuring and repeating those words.

I'm not dead, I'm right here, I'm sorry, don't cry, calm down.

You didn't know how much time had passed, maybe ten minutes, or maybe an hour. You had lost all sense of time. His tears dried up, his rapid heartbeat and breathing settled down. But even though he seemed to be recovering, he still wouldn't leave your embrace. He just rested against your forehead, his brow still furrowed and his eyes closed.

"Minho…are you okay?" Finally, after his breathing had completely steadied, you asked, opening your eyes and carefully observing his expression.

The rain outside was still heavy, but the thunder had died down. Minho opened his eyes at the sound of your voice, red circles and bloodshot whites still making you feel stuffy and guilty.

"I'm sorry…. over at Insomnia…… Something came up and I didn't get to pick up your call in time. I'm really sorry……"

He slid his head down the side of your face to your shoulder, his hands leaving his ears to encircle your waist.

"As long as you are okay……"

While you felt relieved to see him as if relaxed, at the same time the question remained. Why did he think you were dead, and what did Jisung mean by "fear of rain and thunder" in his text? Why would he have such a fear? Even if he did have a fear of thunder and rain, what did that have to do with "thinking you were dead"? You had a feeling it wasn't going to be as simple as you thought.

Your hand continued to stroke his hair as you pondered how to ask the question you had in mind. Or rather, whether you should ask it at all. The rain has lightened but not yet stopped, which meant that Minho was still in a rather unstable state of mind. You were afraid that if you accidentally asked the wrong question you might send him into another panic. That was the last thing you wanted.

"I've shown you my useless side again……"

Your heart ached a little at the sadness that filled his tone.

"I don't care about that sort of thing…" "But I care….."

His arms tightened a little as he took a deep breath. "I care… About how I look in your eyes……"

You pursed your lips, you have had the answer to that question in your mind for a long time. But at the moment you didn't know how to answer. What would he think if you said he was someone important? Would he take it as a sign that you had more than friendly feelings for him?

"I know I shouldn't be like this, I shouldn't be overly concerned about how I look to others… But you're different. I don't care about anyone else, but you're different… You're the one I want to spend time with, the one who's going to be with me for the rest of my life… I want to project a reliable, strong image… To provide you with a home, a safe haven…… I don't want to appear weak in front of you, but I don't want to hide anything from you either… Y/N, do you know how hard that is? Everyone thinks I'm the unreachable, cold and tough guy……. I have even started to think of myself that way. Before I met you, I forgot that I could even be like this, sensitive and vulnerable like a normal human person. But I was just so scared… Scared that you might……"

He choked up again as he reached the end of his sentence. Tears that had just dried up once again flowed down the corners of his eyes.

"I was afraid that you'd left me… Like mom and dad……"

Minho's parents were mentioned to you by your father. They passed away in a car accident four years ago. That's why Minho inherited the Lee Corporation at such a young age. But apart from the fact that they died in a car accident and that Minho had insomnia because of it, you knew nothing about his parents' death and never thought about it. Now it seemed that the car accident caused more than just insomnia.

"I thought I'd never tell anyone about this… But I don't want you to worry, Y/N. You must be curious, right? The way I just reacted… What was really going on."

Though he did speak your mind, you didn't want to force him.

"I don't mind, Minho. if you're not ready to tell me now, I'm not going to make you. Nothing will come between us over this, I promise."

He let go of your waist and sat up straight before bringing his head up to look you in the eyes. Though he still looked drained, the fear in his eyes from earlier had disappeared. In its place was an expression more gentle than at any time before.

"No, I believe you, Y/N, I know you would never force me. But, like I just said…… I don't want to hide anything from you, never again to have a misunderstanding over anything. Besides, as my future wife, you'll have to know sooner or later."

He reached over and took your hand in his, you could still feel his hand trembling slightly. He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled. He closed his eyes and opened them again a few seconds later, as if he had finished sorting out his thoughts.

Then he spoke.

"I assume that you, like everyone else, only know that my parents died in a 'car accident', or at least that's all you should know. After all, the police and I haven't put out any facts other than this false information."

"My parents didn't die in a car accident, they were killed. They were killed by an employee of the company. A former employee who had been made redundant by my father for lack of capability. At our old house, 2:48am, in the middle of a thunderstorm. He shot himself after killing my parents. I couldn't even hold him accountable. And it was all my fault."

You simply didn't know what to say.

"The company would have been doomed if this had been made public. Even in the midst of extreme grief and anger I was aware of the matter. So I spent a huge amount of money to falsify the facts into a car accident. There are only five people who know the truth, and now with you, there are only six in total."

No wonder he was always so sad when he mentioned his parents, his eyes always so remorseful. That was why.

But you couldn't think of any words to describe how you felt at the moment other than heartbroken.

"It's because I didn't leave the bodyguard with them, because I went out that night against their wishes, because I didn't pay enough attention… Didn't take proper precautions… Because I was too useless that they……"

His fists clenched tight, his teeth gritted as he blamed himself to the core.

You couldn't even imagine how he felt, what it must have been like. The morning after you moved in, the words he said to you before he left the house, the worried look in his eyes. The words, "It's not safe here at night" and "It's not something negotiable". It all made sense. It was because there was a precedent. That's why he was so on edge.

You knew why he would blame himself for this, blaming himself to the point of all those years of insomnia. You could totally understand how traumatic such a loss could be and the impact it could have on his life.

"How I called home that night and no one answered, countless calls, texts, no one replied. It wasn't normal. My parents, especially my mother, would never not answer my calls. So I knew something must have happened. It was raining heavily that night, heavier than any other night. When I got home and saw the half-shut door, and the blood on the floor… Mom and Dad collapsed in a pool of blood, the broken phone in Mom's hand… I… I didn't know what to do. I sat there paralysed, my brain felt like it had stopped working, and I forgot to even call the police. I just sat there in place for ten minutes, listening to the sound of rain and thunder in the background, lightning illuminating the scene inside the house every now and then……"

"Stop it, Minho… Stop talking about it……"

You didn't want him to go back to those painful memories. But his grip on your hand tightened a little more, signaling you to let him continue. He knew what he was doing, he wanted to tell you.

"I wanted to forget those images, to never think about them again for the rest of my life if I could. But after that… Every time I hear rain, thunder… The images of that night still come back to me. Y/N…Y/N…… before you……. I, I didn't want to bother you this morning, after all these years I've pulled through on my own… But, but by the time it started thundering in the evening, I called you and you didn't answer… That moment I …… I didn't even know what to do. You went out without a bodyguard, and I didn't hear from you all day, and I thought, I thought you….. Y/N…I was just really scared. But thankfully, thankfully you're okay…… You're still right in front of me, you're breathing, you're alive, you……"

His other hand reached out and rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your tear-soaked skin, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes. "You came back to me… You didn't leave me…… My Y/N…"

He said you were 'his'. Your breath hitched. He had no idea how much those words affected you.

"If I could, I'd like to have you with me every rainy night from now on, like this……"

He moved closer, his pupils trembling slightly, but his gaze never left your eyes.

"To keep gazing at you like this, to get lost in your eyes, to forget everything else, to forget all those painful memories, to just look at you and let you be the only one left in my mind…"

He came closer, you could even feel his breath hitting your cheeks. He was so close, you had never felt him as close as he was now, despite the countless hugs you had already had. It made your heart beat ever faster as your pupils dialated.

"Minho…" you called out his name, unable to utter a single word other than that.

Only now he snapped out of it a little, taking a sharp breath before backing up a little and pulling away from you.

You had to admit, there was a slight feeling of disappointment in your heart at that moment. But perhaps it was better not to continue. Otherwise you would never have been able to stop the feelings in your heart again.

"You're so wet…… I mean, you're covered in rain." He tried to change the subject, and the words that came out only made the atmosphere between you even more delicate. "Didn't you bring an umbrella with you when you left the house? How come you're so drenched? Did you run straight back just now? In that heavy rain?"

It then occurred to you that you were indeed drenched to the bone, from the time you got back until now.

"So… Should I go and change?" You observed his expression and spoke hesitantly.

"No… no need… I'll just get a towel, you stay here."

"Are you okay? It's still raining outside…"

He paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Is it? I didn't even notice."

You were still sitting on the edge of your bed sorting out the information you had just gathered when Minho returned from the bathroom. You didn't realize he had come until he put a towel on your head.

"Did you completely miss what I was just saying?" He asked, speaking up.

You shook your head a little embarrassed, you really hadn't heard anything just now. Didn't even know he had spoken.

"It's fine, I was just asking what you were thinking. With a look like that, you weren't thinking about that Hwang kid again, were you?" He asked a little sourly.

You were thinking about Minho, Hyunjin's face didn't even appear for a second. But he thought you were thinking about Hyunjin. And with this sour tone, was he jealous? The thought surprised you a little.

"I was thinking about you…" You replied in a whisper after a moment of silence. The reply made him smile in satisfaction.

"You'd better be thinking of me." With those words, he knelt beside you, reached out and took the towel that was resting on your head in his hand and began to gently wipe your soaked hair.

The atmosphere was fairly normal at first, he was just drying your hair. Although you did gesture that he could let you do it yourself, he insisted on drying it himself, saying that it would allow him to focus on you rather than the rain outside the window. You thought it made sense and agreed.

But when he started wiping other places, the atmosphere between you started to get a bit strange.

Perhaps it was because you still hadn't gotten over the way you felt when you were so close to him earlier, your heart was still beating a little too fast and your mind kept buzzing. His silhouette loomed over you, and even when you tried to distract yourself, you were completely unable to do so.

His hands were warm as they traced over your slightly cold skin, causing you to let out a little moan.

At that sound, his movements stalled as his breathing stopped.

"What, are you horny for me right now?"

Perhaps his subconscious trying to act tough took over when he said such a weird sentence. Only your heartbeat was too loud, so loud that it drowned out the sound of his words. But you could tell by his expression what kind of sentence he had uttered. But your body froze, your eyes went blank, and you didn't know what to do in response.

The reaction read as distractedness in his eyes. He had said such an embarrassing sentence, but he had been anticipating a response, but you hadn't heard it. He dropped his hand from holding the towel, swallowed as his Adam's apple slid up and down. As if making some kind of decision, he looked up at you after taking your hand in his other and spoke again, this time with all the sincerity in his eyes.

"I mean… If you want…… I can help you…… Do you want me to? Y/N?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had little experience in relationships, but if you understood him correctly, his question, as subtle as it was, meant…… He's inviting you, to have sex with him?

You swallowed and chose to ask again, just in case you hadn't heard correctly, "What did you say?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes retracted from looking at yours and turned to the gap between your legs. He pressed his lips together, as if he was making some kind of decision. After what felt like a long time, yet also felt like just a second, Minho slowly placed his right hand on your knee.

Your eyes never left him, taking everything in. Now you understood completely what he was asking.

Seeing no resistance from you, Minho slowly slid his hand between your legs, fondling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs along the way. His fingers left warm traces where they had touched, sending shivers down your spine. Your breathing intensified as you bit your lips, trying to hold back a moan.

"I'm asking you…for permission."

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the words and not on the strange sensation between your legs. But you who not so long ago was talking sense to Hyunjin, felt as if you had lost your words at the moment. Your mind went blank, unable to make anything but the sound of heavy breathing.

"I won't be able to hold back any longer if you don't answer me right now."

His words were like whispers of the devil, tempting you to eat the forbidden fruit. Your eyes misted up, not knowing if it was because of his words or because you felt something, and you murmured softly, "Then don't…"

His movements stalled as he looked up at you with slight disbelief. His Adans apple bobbed again at the sight of your flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes at his movements.

"What?"

You gritted your teeth and blinked, your brow furrowing slightly as you felt the strange sensation of unease in your lower half. You reached out and took his hand, still hovering on your inner thigh, and placed it where you wanted him most.

"I said…… don't hold back."

It was still pouring outside, the sound of rain falling on the window still stimulating Minho's nerves. If it were any other day, he would have been shivering under the sheets, but at this moment he felt like he had left everything behind, his eyes, his mind, only you were in there.

But at that very moment, a loud thunderclap fell.

He immediately closed his eyes, his breath hitched, and he felt his thoughts being taken back to that night…

Then, he felt something warm on his cheeks all of a sudden.

Opening his eyes, he saw you. It was your hand, your gentle hand cupping his face. Your eyes were fixed on him, and there was seriousness and pain in them besides lust. Your fingertips rubbed over his cheek, tracing it gently as your lips parted lightly.

"Minho…look at me. Don't think about anything else, look at me. Trust me. I won't leave you."

Look at you, trust you, you won't leave him.

The words seemed to kill the last of his sanity, and all hesitation disappeared as he drew in a shuddering breath of cold air.

"You're driving me crazy……"

With those words, his fingers make a slight effort to draw a few circles around your clit through your panties. Tender and seductive, making you want more. Your crotch fiddled upwards, silently craving more of his caresses. But he laughed.

"We're in no hurry…let's take it slow."

His hand went to the zip of your skirt and you lifted your hips in response, together the two of you removed the obtrusive fabric.

Tossing your skirt aside, Minho's attention never left you. His hand went to your inner thigh again, only this time he didn't caress it back and forth, it just rested there. Instead, his head moved up and planted a kiss on the sensitive area. One didn't seem to be enough, as he moved up your leg little by little, his other hand not standing idle as he began to undo his own collar.

His kisses stop at the edge of your panties, never going any further than where you want him to be most. You frowned a little in displeasure, was he going to keep bullying you after all this time?

"Minho… Don't tease me……"

Feeling a smile curl his lips as they connected at the base of your thigh, you gave him a punishing squeeze with your leg.

"Foreplay is important, Y/N. Don't rush it, the night is still long. But…if you're not satisfied……" His other hand reached for the one you had propped up on the side of your body after he finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling on it to help it find the back of his head. "I'm underneath you now, the power is yours. Your hand can make my head do whatever you want it to do."

With those words from him, your eyes darkened and you gripped his hair mercilessly, causing him to muffle a grunt. The vibrations transferred to your lower abdomen, causing you to groan out as well.

"Does it hurt?" You asked as you found your voice.

"I like it." He replied.

With each word he said, the vibrations your clit felt grew stronger and your grip on his hair grew less and less benevolent. But listening to his constant muffled grunts, and the fact that you could only see the top half of his face from your current perspective, with its undried tear stains and red eyes, it almost looked like you were the one bullying him.

He seemed out of breath, pawing at your leg and begging for mercy. You immediately let go of his hair so that he too could finally breathe properly. He was almost wet from the nose down, glistening, not knowing if it was from his saliva or your juices. It was the first time you had ever seen Minho looking so fucked out, with his eyes full of desire and gasping for air. You unconsciously swallowed, finding the scene very pleasing to the eye.

"You're so beautiful……" you blurted out the words that came into mind.

He gasped at your praise for a moment, then laughed. "Y/N…you're actually a sadist aren't you?"

You froze for a second at the term, not knowing how to reply to him, only pursing your lips as your cheeks flushed. "But you do look really beautiful right now……"

He leaned back and sat on his heels, his hands on his knees like a pretty doll. If you ignored the filth on his face.

"Want to kiss?" He asks. "I've wanted to for a long time."

At his words you realized that there hadn't even been a kiss between the two of you. It was your mouth down there that kissed him first.

"Then get up." "My legs are numb, help me."

For some reason, his simple "help me" made you feel aroused and immediately reached out and pulled him up from the floor. Minho's legs were so numb that he couldn't stand, losing his balance and dropping his entire body straight down on top of you. After feeling you underneath him, he smiled and sighed, as if laughing at your impatience.

"Wipe your mouth, it's dirty."

You didn't want to taste yourself.

"It's not dirty at all."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your neck and kissed up forcefully.

You'd imagined what your first kiss with Lee Minho would be like. A stolen kiss in the film room, a goodbye kiss before leaving the house, a goodnight kiss before going to bed, you'd thought of all sorts of scenarios. Only nothing like this. Violent, forceful, erotic and yet so deeply emotional.

His tongue probed your lips, tracing the shape of them, then eased in deeper. You struggled to respond to him, entwining your tongue with his. Neither of you could be said to be skilled kissers, but at the moment, more than skill, emotion prevailed.

He reached one hand to the back of your head, his fingers thrusting into your hair and pulling you closer to him.

It was the first time you had touched each other like this, getting to know each other like this. It didn't feel like it; it was as if he knew your body so well that every movement made you shiver. After the kiss was over, he didn't leave your body immediately, but lowered his head and began sucking on the sensitive spot under your ear, his lips rubbing against the sensitive skin as hot breaths rushed out of his nose and patted the back of your ear, you couldn't help but moan out.

His other hand didn't stay unoccupied either, sliding straight down to your hip and picking your whole body up tightly on his strong, powerful thighs. After leaving countless kisses on your ears, neck, collarbone and chest, he was finally satisfied and buried his face in your chest, breathing in your scent greedily. You couldn't do anything but breathe heavily as he kissed you into oblivion. Your hands on his shoulders continued to tremble as well.

"Don't you think this shirt is a bit in the way too?"

You couldn't manage a complete sentence, but you nodded your head after some thought. After getting your permission, Minho helped you take your top off, while starting to stare at your bra in awe.

"I didn't know I was going to… I didn't wear a set today……"

You thought he was concerned about that and squeezed out those two lines in a bit of a panic. But he frowned at that. "I was just thinking that you probably don't have too much attachment to a bra, do you?"

"What?"

"I want to rip it off."

He leaped forward like a tiger trying to execute the action, only for you to step in and stop him.

"You'll have to take your clothes off too. Shirt and pants, all of them."

At those words, Minho felt his dick harden between his thighs and his sanity, which was not much left, disappeared into thin air. But even so, he obediently began to undress. Starting with his shirt, he unbuttoned his shirt one by one, the first few with patience, and then he started pulling it off with brute force directly after. You felt sorry for his ridiculously expensive clothes, but at the same time you wanted him to take them off faster so that you could get back to business as soon as possible.

Minho revealed his fit body as he undid his shirt. Gorgeous pecs along with a six-pack all on display, you couldn't help but swallow hard. His nipples were already hard from the friction earlier and were standing on his chest proudly. You couldn't wait to tug on them and turn them pink. The thought of how good he would sound made your lower body start to leak even more, soaking your panties.

You probably were a sadist, like Minho said.

The sound of Minho pulling his belt out of his trousers pulled you back from your own imagination. Your eyes move down to his poorly hidden tent. You could see his shape even through his trousers. He definitely wasn't small, at least average length. That said, you've only ever seen a man's genitals in videos, having no recollection of the night with Hyunjin, so this was the first time you were going to see the real thing. You continue to stare at his movements, anticipating him to hurry up and pull down his trousers.

You wondered if he was doing it on purpose, as if he was teasing you, tempting you, his pace grew slower. Only taking them off little at a time, keeping an eye on your expression. Seeing you staring at his spot with undivided attention, he licked his lips with excitement, where the taste of you still seemed to linger.

"I've shown you my chest, aren't you going to take your bra off?"

"I thought you were going to rip it off."

He grinned, "I'd rather see you rip it off yourself."

"I kinda like this bra." Although you were still arguing back and forth with him, your hands obediently reached up to your chest and unhooked your bra, revealing your perky breasts. Like him, you kept an eye on his expression. After seeing his gaze go straight to it, followed by a downward swallowing motion, you tossed your bra casually to the side in a pile of clothes. "You're hard."

He'd pulled his trousers down just in time too, leaving the two of you with nothing more than your underwear on. He crawled in your direction, his hand on your back, his eyes shifting from your breasts to the spot between your legs. "You're wet, too."

Not knowing what strange desire for victory was stirred up, you quickly replied. "I'm wet because you licked me. You got hard like that from just hearing my voice and seeing my boobs."

With that said you reached out and placed your hand on his bulge. Thumb and forefinger stroking it gently, teasing, causing him to suck in a breath and tighten his grip on your back.

"I told you… You're driving me crazy…… It's your fault I'm like this……" A drop of sweat slid down his forehead, sliding from the tip of his nose to his lips. There was no longer any emotion in his eyes other than desire. "It's your fault, you're responsible for fixing this…… with your hands, your mouth, your…… there."

Not wanting to hear any more of his lewd words like that, you closed your eyes and leaned forward, kissing his wordy mouth. Your hand moved up from his bulge as well, tugging at the side of his briefs to pull them down. Losing the friction on his member, he grunted in displeasure, swallowed by your kiss. Seeing that he has no intention of lifting his bottom to cooperate with you, you frown a little in annoyance and reach your hand behind him to slap him on the ass. It was not a weak hit, it was probably gonna go red there. He obviously wasn't expecting you to be so dominant all of a sudden, and with a grunt of defeat, he obediently lifted his hips to allow you to pull the front section of his long-soaked briefs down his thighs.

Realizing you'd hit a little too hard, you ended the kiss, that hand running up his hip, rubbing it soothingly. "Was that too much? I'm sorry…I should have asked you first……"

"That hurt……" The complaint had a slight pout to it, sounding both a little out of place and at the same time appropriate coming from his mouth.

He had pressed almost his weight against you as you kissed. The grip on your back is becoming more and more like a support. At this point it was like you were completely reversed and he was the one who looked like he was going to be pinned down. "You really like to make me suffer don't you……"

Your other hand went upwards to his cheek, your thumb gently touching his flushed skin. "Did I cause you pain? …… I'm sorry…I didn't know I'd just-"

He suddenly lowered his head and kissed you. It was a sloppy kiss, not a deep one, more as if to interrupt you.

"Don't say you're sorry…… I like it. If it's coming from you…such pain……" He whispered into your ear, making it sound even more erotic, more seductive. "But right now, I want to fix the pain here more than anything……"

He finds your hand and places it on the now uncovered member. You felt the warmth of it in your hand as your pulse sped up.

It was hot, really hot……

"With my hand? Do you have any lubricant?"

You asked a very real question.

Minho froze for a moment. Seeming to notice the problem as well, sanity returned to his head for the moment.

"I do have lube… But…… I don't have any condoms."

You blinked. "You don't have condoms at your house? Haven't you been here with other people……"

He shook his head blankly, his cheeks flushing slightly as if he was about to admit something a little humiliating. "Haven't done it around here…the last time I had sex was four years ago……"

I made sense when you thought about it, he did have more important issues to deal with in those four years than his sexual desires. How could a man who couldn't even sleep think about having sex with someone else? And so you didn't delve into it. But then he picked out the unpleasant words from what you had just said. "And Y/N…it's not "my" house. It's "our" house."

You couldn't help but smile at his somewhat adorable statement and nodded quickly. "Okay, our house." But the problem was still unresolved, even though you knew the reasons behind it. You ran your hand over his member back and forth, smearing the fluid that spilled from his tip onto the shaft as temporary lubrication. "So… what now? I don't want to get pregnant yet…… I don't have any birth control either……"

You could see that he was trying to ignore the pleasure in his lower body, trying to think about this somewhat ridiculous but realistic question. Your other hand that was stroking his cheek moved, your thumb tracing over his lower lip to get his attention.

"It's okay, Minho…… it's only our first night. I'll just use my hands."

He seemed a little disappointed, his lower lip nudging up unconsciously. He was running out of options. Failing to think as the pleasure in his lower body was too intense for him to distract himself from.

You leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, sliding your other hand down his shaft and finding his balls that had obediently settled on the bed, holding them in your hand and playing with them a bit. It was nice to hear the sounds he couldn't hold back, knowing how much you were affecting him.

"Though you've got quite enough precum to use as lube, go get it anyways, will you?"

He nodded and reluctantly left your touch, slowly making his way up from the bed in the direction of the nightstand, pulling open the first drawer and taking a small bottle of lubrication before handing it to you. Although the disappointment in his eyes was still there, there was more excitement and anticipation at this point.

You opened the small bottle and poured some of the lubricant into your hand. The liquid was a little cool as you drew in a breath of cold air and rubbed it into your hand. It was cold even on your relatively insensitive hand, how would it feel to put it directly on his private parts? Once the liquid has warmed up a little, your hand reached for the hard, slightly swollen cock again. Before touching it, you looked up at Minho. "It's a bit cold, are you okay with that?" He nodded instantly, like he couldn't wait any longer, fiddling his lower body upwards a few times. You smiled, your roles were really reversed.

"We're in no hurry…let's take it slow…..right?"

He couldn't help but blush as he heard his words being returned to him exactly as they were.

"You told me not to tease you…but now you're teasing me ……" He moved closer to you, reaching out and wrapping his arms around your torso, his head resting sideways against your chest so you wouldn't see the look on his face at that moment. Your unlubricated hand reached for the back of his head and scratched it soothingly, a chuckle escaping your lips. He was just about to grunt in displeasure when he was startled by the sudden coolness he felt on his member, and the grunt turned straight into a moan. "Cold……"

"Didn't I tell you it was a little cold? But look, it won't feel cold in a second." You smoothed down his shaft, the lube warmed almost instantly by his burning member. "Feel good?"

He didn't answer with anything but a moan. The part of his brain that organised language had about gone on strike. After a few strokes, his moans grew louder as his muscles began to tighten up. Like he was about to climax, he started a light shudder, his grip on your waist tightening and his breathing becoming erratic.

"Y/N…slow down …… I'm going to…" He seemed a little anxious, tapping your back as if he wouldn't be able to hold back if you didn't.

You heard his words but didn't comply, instead, you sped up.

"It's okay, Minho…no need to hold back any longer."

He tried to remedy, but though his brain, overrun by intense pleasure, thought that, he couldn't make any real movements. Finally, with a muffled grunt and a whimper immediately following, he came. The cum landed on your stomach and lower abdomen, running down to your private parts. You hastily wiped it off with the blanket, not caring if the blanket was worth a few hundred million won.

Your breasts were covered in the sweat dripping off his forehead, and with the sighs and harsh breaths of his post-orgasm, you felt a little itchy there. You tried to move away, but instead of relaxing after his orgasm, his hands held tighter. You knew that men were at their most vulnerable after an orgasm, and after a moment of agonising decided to leave things as they were for now. Your hand on the back of his head travelled down the nape of his neck to his back, patting it gently to help calm him down.

He stayed like that in your arms for a few minutes. You didn't know how long it had been since he'd had his last orgasm, but it had been several minutes since he'd came and still he hasn't eased up. It must've been a long time.

It wasn't your turn yet, but you were actually quite satisfied already. If he wanted to end it there, or just fall asleep, you'd honestly have no problem with that. But just as you were thinking that, he spoke up.

"How humiliating… I just finished like that……"

You felt a little amused to hear that. You thought he was thinking about something else, but it turns out he was really worried about this.

"It's not your fault …… You haven't had an orgasm in a while, have you?"

He nodded in your arms.

"It's been a few months…… work is busy…and with you at home, I'm afraid to……"

He sounded a little resigned when he said this, not at all like the CEO of one of the top ten companies in Korea. When in your arms and by your side, he was simply a normal young man in his twenties.

"What about you? How long has it been since you've had sex?"

He left your embrace suddenly and looked at you with sincere eyes. It seemed as if the question was very important to him.

You felt a little awkward getting asked this question. Your mind had to go back to Hyunjin again. Minho saw this expression on your face and his expression darkened. He knew that look all too well. It was the same look you had every time you mentioned Hyunjin.

"I can't remember what happened that night…but, it was about two months before I met you? I got drunk and went out with Hyunjin……"

Minho's tongue pushes up against his cheek, visibly upset at hearing Hyunjin's name. You then realize that you haven't told him about meeting Hyunjin at the cafe earlier.

"By the way…Minho, Hyunjin came to see me today."

Hearing those words, anger flared up in Minho's eyes, which were already irritated.

"Came to see you? He came in person? In the pouring rain?" You nodded, "That kid……"

"But I've told him to leave. I turned him down. Rejected him very clearly. Minho…he's never coming back again."

"What do you mean? He's so…obsessed with you. What did you say?"

'I told him I love you,' you wanted to say, but the words got stuck in your mouth as you were too embarrassed to say them. You just blushed.

He cocked his head curiously at the look on your face. He waited for a long time but didn't get your next word.

You knew Minho was fond of you. Otherwise he wouldn't be in bed with you so intimately as he was now. But "love" is a heavy word. You were still not sure if he felt "love" for you or not. You didn't want him to feel the pressure of having to 'love' you too, just because you had taken the liberty of saying the word first.

"I… he's not going to bother us anymore. You're probably never going to see him again in your life. He won't want to see you in his life either, I can guarantee that."

He sneered, the CEO feeling returning a little. "I don't think he'd dare either. I'd definitely beat him up if I saw him. How dare he try to steal my fiancée? That little brat."

Not wanting to see him ruin his mood because of Hyunjin, you hurriedly reached out and patted his face to get his attention.

"Stop thinking about him, Minho," you said as you parted your legs and pulled your panties down to reveal your private parts. "Think of me, look, you've already come once, but I haven't. Don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

The gesture did succeed in getting his attention. Not only did his eyes go straight, but the member between his legs, which had gone soft earlier, perked up again. He crawled between your legs and switched to a kneeling position, his hand reaching for your crotch somewhat awkwardly, only to have you slap it away.

"Use your mouth."

Hearing your somewhat commanding words, he could think of nothing else, and swallowed with some excitement before obediently lowering his head and reaching for your private parts. Without the obstruction of your panties, every breath he drew was now actually hitting your skin. His hands unconsciously dragged down both of your legs and his whole face was buried between them.

Tentatively, he stuck out his tongue and licked the head of your clit, then kissed it. You shuddered and gasped. Having had his first experience of tasting you, he licked his lips and, no longer focusing only on the top part, his tongue probed downwards, making its way to your vagina. His tongue pushes into your pussy, mimicking the action of intercourse as he moves in and out. His nose still pressed against your clit, the dual stimulation of his tongue nudging it against your clit with each move caused you to cover your mouth.

He heard your slightly indistinct moans and knew what you were doing, one hand reaching up to grab your wrist and pull it from your mouth. But he didn't just want to hear your moans. He placed your hand on the back of his head. Then his tongue left your pussy and lifted his head slightly before he said in a voice you could barely hear, "Make me hurt."

By the time you came back to your senses, all that came to your ears was his cries of pleasure. Your hands tug mercilessly at his hair, forcing him to resist your strength in order to continue to bring you pleasure. It was as if he wanted to make you feel good even though it caused him pain.

He gripped the sheets with one hand, the other matching his tongue as it ravished your hole together, going deeper and deeper. Probing around, he inadvertently found your G-spot. Minho knew it was different, it was a little hard and stimulating it made your moans higher in pitch. He then stimulated the spot, pushing his finger harder against it in spite of it.

As you enjoyed the pleasure, another desire erupted in your head. The desire to tell him what you really thought, the desire to tell him that you loved him.

You wanted to leave all your hesitations behind and face him with your true self, without hiding anything. He has informed you of his deepest and most painful memories and shared them with you. How could you do this to him? How could you not tell him what you thought?

The more you thought about it, the more it made sense, and with your head spinning, you softly uttered, "I love you …… I told him…I love you ……"

He stopped his movements for a moment, thinking he had misheard. But he didn't stop moving for long, and after just a few moments he started pushing harder again, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The pleasure built up and eventually, with a near screaming moan, you came.

He gasped and left your legs, his whole face flushed and his breath unsteady. You weren't much better, letting go of his hair and then throwing your head back to catch your breath, trying to find your sanity.

You felt Minho scoot forward and wrap his arms around your neck, his cheek resting next to yours. It was then that you heard the irregularity in his breath. And at that moment, the tears that dripped down your shoulder confirmed your suspicions.

"Why are you cry-" "I love you too."

Your eyes widened as you felt your heart skip a beat.

"I love you…I love you…… I, how could I love you so much…… Y/N…… My Y/N… I love you, I love you…… Don't leave me……"

He was spilling his heart out to you again. This was the second time this night. You were still holding each other the same way, not even the gestures had changed much. Only this time the words weren't as heartbreaking as the earlier ones, only this time they were blissful words that made you happy. But the blissful words brought tears to your eyes. You couldn't describe in words how you were feeling at the moment. You just felt so good to be able to say it. It was so wonderful to know that his heart felt the same as yours.

"Shhh…Minho…take a deep breath…… I'm not going anywhere, I'm here. Right here with you. I'm all yours now, body and soul."

He lifted his head slightly and leaned back a bit, looking into your loving eyes as he spoke slowly, his tone full of disbelief. "Growing up, I've never asked for anything, ever, you're the only one I've come to hope for. But…can I really have hopes? Can I really? How can you love me like I am, all flawed, bad natured and always making you angry, weepy and fragile, a coward who has panic attacks over a tiny ring and is afraid of ridiculous things like thunder and rain……?"

You leaned forward to kiss him on the eye. All the way down from eyes to nose, from nose to lips. You took his bottom lip like you were treating the most precious treasure in the world. After a long moment, you released him, staring into his eyes, and whispered, "You always love to tease me and act tough in front of me. But underneath that mask of being the CEO of the Lee Corporation that you wear for outsiders, is a sensitive and gentle boy called Lee Minho, who is kind and funny. I've never met anyone like him, someone I could go from hating to loving. He's hurt, he's incomplete, he's got his fangs out for outsiders, and that's only because he's been hurt. That isn't the real him. What do you think? He just can't show that side of himself to everyone yet. You know what? My biggest wish right now is for that boy, Lee Minho, to see himself the way I see him. I wish he could see the shine in himself too. To be able to love himself as much as I love him and accept love from others."

You took a deep breath and cupped his face.

"It must be exhausting for him after all this hard work for so long. I want to tell him that he has done a great job. Now, it's time to relax, time to rest. Try to love yourself, even if it's hard. At least let me love you and not push me away. Accept me and we can take it slow. Just remember that I love you, Minho, I love you. Is that okay?"

He looks you in the eye with a smile you've never seen before, a beautiful smile. Obsidian-like eyes that twinkled with starlight. He nodded gently and continued to gaze at you tenderly.

"You love me."

"That's right, I love you."

"You are mine."

"That's right, I'm yours."

"Y/N…"

"Mmm?"

"I love you so much…"

Your lips pressed together once more.

That night you fell asleep together cuddled together, skin to skin, his arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in his body. His hand holding yours, fondling the engagement ring on your middle finger, whispering "I love you" in your ear as if he couldn't say it enough.

When you woke up the next day, you were still in the same position.

You woke up a little before he did and sat up to look out of the window. The sun was high in the sky and the sound of birds chirping could be heard in the distance. You knew that from today onwards, and for the rest of your life, you would have someone with you who you loved, and who loved you.

When you finished washing up and went back to bed again, Minho was awake too. He stretched out like a kitten, rubbing his eyes before looking at you and smiling. You tossed him his clothes and told him to get dressed before getting out of bed, and he teased you at first, but eventually obediently slipped on his shirt and briefs.

"Come here, Y/N, I want a cuddle…"

"Have you always been this clingy? Or is it just because of what happened last night?" Despite saying that, you obeyed his words all the same, going to sit down next to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

He closed his eyes comfortably, enjoying your intimacy. "You'd better get used to it now, I'll be clinging to you for the rest of my life."

How wonderful would that be? To be by your loved one's side forever is something you've never wished for before. And now there he was, right in front of you, saying such romantic things. You still couldn't believe it, such a feeling of full happiness was something you never wanted to lose in your life.

Once the hug was over, he took your right hand and left a brief kiss on your ring, then looked up at you.

"I'll definitely find another opportunity to propose to you, formally, Y/N."

You froze for a moment and then smiled, "I forgot we weren't married until you mentioned."

He smiled back at that reply, interlocking his fingers with yours and resting his forehead against yours.

The position was exactly the same as last night when you first returned, but only ten hours later, your state of mind and your relationship, the level of intimacy, was completely different. You closed your eyes, wishing that this moment could be forever preserved in your memory.

"Going forward, nights with you will never be lonely again."

END

I seriously can't believe this is over... why am I kinda sad rn...

tag list: @helpsplease @fight-me-m8 @qtieskz @yubinism @ateez-babygirl @skzooo @chanstresour @aerastus @my-dark-happy-place @otwo @skylar27 @owls-and-stars @stay-here-dont-stray @analusanchez @cucu-skks @yoshiunova @lixielv @nctdom @endzii23 @lachimolalas-posts @xcookiemonsteer @chaoticroadwobblerhoagie @hyunjun-jpeg

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #skz headcanons #stray kids headcanons #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[neobubs]

[4.00pm]

wc: 0.5k, genre: fluff, crack, suggestive, established relationship, pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader, hendery mentioned

you glared into hendery’s eye through the lenses of your glasses, a question mark almost visible in your forehead. the said male currently stood at your right, and he nonchalantly held out a handkerchief in your direction.

“what’s this for?”, you asked out of utter confusion.

“you don’t want jeno to see you drooling over him like a dog.”

blood then flushed to your neck and cheeks after hearing his words. staring at your boyfriend dancing made your entire body numb to the point you couldn’t even control your muscles anymore.

being caught in such a moment was flustering enough, and you felt overwhelmed when jeno approached you and hendery, meanwhile the latter made fun of how much power your lover had over you.

“let my baby be, hendery” said jeno taking your head in between his hands and pecking your burning forehead.

faking nausea, kunhang tripped his way far from the both of you, and jeno took a seat next to you, grabbing your right leg and putting it to rest on his lap under his hands.

“why are you flustered?”

“am not”, you said feigning indifference.

the black haired boy made his face close to yours while you adverted your eyes from his gaze, “i can feel your heat, and it’s winter, baby”.

you shrugged your shoulders, now staring into his sparkling eyes with fake confidence.

“tell me why you’re shy”, he insisted.

you grabbed his hands which were caressing your leg and held them close to your lips, giving each one of them a kiss. resting his knuckles on your cheeks, you lifted your eyes still gathering the courage to properly talk to him.

jeno’s face approached yours, his foreahead now resting on your own and both of your noses almost touching.

“hendery’s caught me staring at you.”

“and why is that a problem?”, jeno whispered to you almost puzzled.

“it is not”, you sighed lowly gripping his hands, your positions still. “i was embarrassed when i thought he could read minds.”

laughing, jeno moved his head away and helped your straighten your posture in his embrace.

“what would he know if he could read minds, baby?”, he asked with his chin on your shoulder.

heat raised in your body once again, and jeno could feel it even before your shifted before starting to speak.

“he would know how bad i wanna fuck you everytime you have these sweats on.”

the smile long fallen from jeno’s face was a sign for you to keep going.

“god, how come your dick becomes even more outstanding on these pants. plus, they’re so easy to take off, i keep picturing how easily i could suck you off, or ride you right here right now.”

raising the corner of his lip into a smirk, jeno pressed a longing kiss into your shoulder and squeezed your hand in slyness. standing up, his last phrase sent shrivers all over your body, being audible only to you.

“practice finishes in ten, baby.”

#nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct angst #nct 2021 #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct timestamps #nct au #nct imagines #nct suggestive #nct dream #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct jeno #nct lee jeno #nct jeno smut #kpop scenarios #wayv #wayv hendery #nct headcanons

[yuta-nakamots]

some kind of wonderful - l.mk

Pairing - Mark Lee x Female Reader

Genre - Fluff, Smut, Established Relationship!AU

Warnings - fireworks, making out, sub!Mark, dom!reader, oral (male and female receiving), use of a shirt as a blindfold, face sitting, unprotected sex, Mark has a slight praise kink, orgasm denial, creampie.

Summary - You had the pleasure of getting to ring in the New Year with Mark and it gave you the opportunity to try something new when giving pleasure to Mark. 

Word Count - 2.9k

A/N - Happy Birthday To Mark Lee!! This is a deleted scene from my giant ass Mark fic, Everybody Talks. I took out this smut scene because I felt like everyone should be allowed to read Everybody Talks and so that I won’t be limiting the audience I can share my hard work to. Lyrics from the song used will be formatted like this.

Written for the Subspaced Collab hosted by @raibebe. Also part of the Hot Sauce Factory Event hosted by @neosmutcollective. Check out the masterlist here. 

December, 2016. Now playing: Some Kind Of Wonderful by the Grand Funk Railroad, 1987.

“Will you do me the honor of being my New Year’s kiss?” Mark asked, oh so graciously.

“Of course I do. What else do you think I spent all of today daydreaming about?” You leaned in to kiss him but there was a sudden burst of color in the sky, making you jump backwards.

Mark reacted in the same manner, equally as startled. He glanced down at his watch, “wow, I didn’t even realize how much time had gone by already. It’s 11:55, I guess they’re starting now.” You gave him a quick kiss on his cheek to make up for the one that was interrupted by that first firework now that there was a steady stream of them being set off.

The two of you continued watching the explosive display, commenting on cool shapes or patterns that came up until finally the show reached its finale as the New Year became mere seconds away. You could hear the crowds below you counting down from ‘ten’ and there was a firework that exploded every second, leading up to ‘one’.

On that last number, Mark gently put a hand on your jaw, turning your head to face him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you saw him leaning in and felt his warm lips on yours. It didn’t last very long though, you felt his lips curl into a smile before he broke away, a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Sorry, that was kinda cheesy.”

“I liked it though,” you reassured him, “we should do it again.” This time, you leaned in, turning him to face you before your lips met his. He put an arm around your waist protectively, pulling you even closer to him and deepening the kiss.

After what feels like minutes, you broke away from the kiss, both you and Mark nearly desperate for air. “I- fuck, I love you,” Mark said between heavy breaths.

“I love you too,” you breathed out.

“Do you want to head home?”

“Please.”

She's some kind of wonderful.

The entire ride back to Mark’s apartment, you spent it teasing him and riling him up in any way you could think of from running your hand up his thigh, nearly brushing against his growing erection, or sneaking a hand into his shirt. He never took his eyes off the road once though, resorting to shifting around in his seat or taking a hand off the wheel to deal with your advances.

When he finally got the front door unlocked, he practically yanked you in and haphazardly turned on the lights, not wanting to wait a moment longer. “Wait,” you commanded, pushing him against the wall once the door was closed, “since it’s a new year, how about we try something different. Are you okay with that?”

“W-what exactly would that be?” He asked, breathless as you left searing kisses down his neck.

“You’ve always been in control,” grabbing onto his waist, you held him in place, “why not switch things up a bit? Let me lead for once.”

Mark looked at you, his eyes sparkling in the light. “Promise that you’ll take care of me?”

“I promise.” He let you drag him off to the bedroom with a cocky smirk on your face. He was about to get his world rocked.

You sat him at the edge of his bed, straddling his lap before pulling him in for a kiss. He was slightly more withdrawn than usual so you rested your arms on his large shoulders, closing that gap between your chests, wanting him to feel comfortable under your lead. Mark melted into your touch easily as you put a hand on his jaw, keeping him from moving away.

The next time he opened his eyes, his normally bright and round eyes stared back at you, darker and hooded, waiting for you to direct him. “Shirt,” was all you said and immediately he removed it, pulling it off the top of his head causing his hair to become a fluffy mess. You ran your hands through it, combing it out, knowing how much it relaxed him when you did so.

He wrapped an arm around you, wanting to keep you close but he wasn’t in control tonight, you were. You pulled away from him and slid off his lap. “Pants off,” you told him and he stood to take his jeans off while you removed your top, leaving you only half naked compared to him in only his underwear now.

You nodded over to the bed, telling him to get back on it and he excitedly jumped, landing on his back in the center of it. Climbing on top of him, you placed your core directly over his bulge, rubbing back and forth on it as Mark shivered from the feeling of your warmth again where he wanted your touch the most. His hands came up to hold onto your hips but you grabbed his wrists and gently lowered them onto the sheets. “What we’re not going to do tonight, is that, my love,” you stated, “don’t touch me unless I allow you to. Got it?” He nodded, his eyes wide in expectation for your next move.

Scooting backwards until you were between his knees, you slowly pulled the band of his underwear down and licked at his tip once it was exposed. He let out a quiet moan when you started leaving light licks down the body of his member. When you took the base of it into your hands and inserted the head of his length into your mouth, his fists balled at his sides, fighting his urge to grab onto you.

It was cute, the way he was trying to restrain himself but he wouldn’t last long if you continued like this seeing as he was already struggling this much when he wasn’t even inside you yet. You bobbed your head a couple of times, taking him as deep as you could and using your hands to pump what didn’t fit into your mouth. When he let out a louder groan, that’s when you knew to stop. He was staring down at you with his weight on his elbows and eyes on your lips.

Mark’s body relaxed when you leaned back, no longer fighting against himself though frustrated from the faintest bit of his orgasm and not quite letting it build just yet. You didn’t like how his eyes followed you no matter what you did. “Mark, hand me your shirt,” you were about to fix that problem. He sat up and grabbed it from the edge of the bed, handing it over to you but you stopped him from lying down, “stay.”

You tied his shirt around his eyes, making sure to pull the fabric down low enough so that he couldn’t see through any gaps. “Is this okay?” You asked, wanting to check that it wasn’t too tight or it wasn’t uncomfortable. He nodded, fidgeting around with his hands and you felt his member twitch under you.

With a confident grin, you placed a hand on his broad chest and pushed him down onto the bed. You left a brief kiss on his lips but didn’t stay long enough for him to fully reciprocate it but that was fine, he could kiss something else instead. You got off the bed, quickly taking off your bottoms before coming back to him, though this time you put your knees on both sides of his head, gently placing your weight on his shoulders.

“Baby,” you cooed, “I want you to taste me, see how wet I am for you.”

Mark’s breath hitched in his lungs. “Can I touch you?”

“Touch me where?” You teased, “show me.”

When I hold her in my arms.

One of his hands wrapped around your thigh, pulling you closer to his mouth, the other one coming to rest on your lower stomach, his fingers splaying out on your skin. You figured this much was okay since ultimately it was your turn to receive. “Go ahead.”

Mark dove right in, already knowing what you like from having eaten you out before. The only thing different was instead of you lying down or sitting, it was now him who was on his back, powerless to your wishes. He began lapping at your folds, gradually going deeper and taking bigger breaths of air so he could pleasure you more.

You let out a shaky sigh as you felt him starting to reach deeper inside you with his tongue, his actions making your body start to heat up. He was doing so well that you decided to reach behind you and use a hand to pump what you could reach of his burning erection. He was still hard and warm even without you touching him. Maybe he liked this more than you thought.

He nearly jolted in shock when your hand came into contact with his firm member though he quickly relaxed as you wrapped your fingers around it and began to give him the smallest bits of relief. It took almost all of his remaining focus in order to not buck his hips up into your hand, seeking out more of you and the pleasure you were delivering to him.

Mark pushed you closer and closer towards the edge of your orgasm and as much as you wanted to continue sitting on his face and let him make you cum that way, you knew that he must have been aching for you from the way his hips were pushing down into the bed so that you wouldn’t get angry at him for thrusting into your grip. If you had known how sweet he would be like this, you would’ve done it sooner, but at least you knew now that Mark Lee was absolutely weak when left to your control.

You sat up onto your knees, separating your lower lips from Mark and his devilish tongue. “Was I doing good,” he asked with a small voice.

“So so good,” you answer while moving to position yourself above his length. It was hot and hard in your palm when you picked it up to align with your soaking entrance. Nothing could have compared to the bliss you felt as you sunk down onto him, except maybe an orgasm or two, but at that very moment, all that you could think of was the way he was stretching you open and filling you up.

Both of you moaned almost in harmony as you finally sat down onto his hips, taking him fully inside of you. Mark started to impatiently shift around under you, not yet grinding into you, but moving enough to get enough pleasure out of his motions. This definitely would not fly and you had a plan for how to deal with that later. For now, you answered his silent pleas and began bouncing in his lap, rising the slightest bit off of him before falling back down.

Maybe it was because of how long you were drawing this out, but you could’ve sworn Mark felt larger than usual. You didn’t question it though because he felt even better like this whenever you came back down, covering his entire length within your walls. Placing your hands on his chest, you used him as leverage to push your hips up higher and faster, wanting to bring him as close to the edge as possible.

It seemed to be working from the way his breaths became shallower and he began thrusting up into you, meeting you halfway. “Are you getting close, baby?” He nodded as he whined, desperate for his release. “Hold on a little longer, you’re doing so well.” You felt him twitch inside of you following your praise. “You feel so good inside of me, I love your cock.” Again, you felt his member throb though this time his abs and jaw clenched. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes,” he breathed, “want to cum.”

“Well you don’t get to.” You rose up onto your knees, his length slipping out of you and landing onto his pelvis with a solid slap.

“No!” He whined, hips bucking up into the air, searching for you. His hands were dug deep into the sheets, not wanting to risk getting his orgasm taken away entirely.

Putting a hand onto his hip, you pushed him back down. “It’s okay, I’m still right here.” You realigned his slick member with your core, sliding it back in with ease. This was going to be hard, not just for Mark but for you as well. Whenever you wanted to punish him, it was also punishment for yourself. “Be a good boy and fuck me until I cum.”

He didn’t question anything and simply did as told, placing his feet firmly down on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you. He was kept pushing into you with so much force that you had to, again, place your hands onto his chest for support. You saw one of his hands writhing around, wanting to touch you but not having permission so you placed your hand into his, weaving your fingers with his and placing it next to his head.

You know she sets my soul on fire.

This little action seemed to spur him on even more as he sped up, bringing both of you near the precipice of your release. Mark’s other hand came up to hold your waist and keep you steady, but this was not something you had allowed him to do. Even though you wanted your orgasm, you were going to stick with the role you had established tonight.

Leaning forward once more, his cock fell out from your warmth and Mark groaned in frustration, plopping back down onto the bed. “I want to cum,” he forcefully whined, “I want to cum so badly.”

“You’ll cum when I tell you to,” you gritted into his ear, “no sooner, no later.” You kissed his cheek to let him know that he was doing an amazing job before picking up his throbbing length for what you hoped to be the last time. Putting your hands onto his knees, you started bouncing in his lap, solely chasing after your orgasm.

Just the sheer feeling of him fitting inside you so well brought you closer to it but this alone was not going to allow you to finish. “Fuck me,” you told him, falling onto your forearms placed on both sides of his head. Mark thrusted into you with even more power than before, reaching the end of his patience and energy.

With him so close to you, you could hear the little noises he made, the shy whines and cries as he got closer and closer to cumming. The new angle allowed him to reach spots that he couldn’t before and it sent you rocketing towards your end. “You fuck me so good Mark, shit, I love you.”

“I. Love. You. Too.” He replied between thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you without warning and everything went white as you felt yourself convulsing on top of him. Your walls continued to clench onto his length inside of you, making Mark a mess beneath you. “Can I cum? Can I please cum? Please let me cum.”

You were still reeling from your own release, not fully having regained your senses, but you had enough strength to tell him, “cum.” The single word allowed him to finally let himself go, shooting his cum inside of you, painting your walls with white. He moaned out your name, his hands gripping the sheets, his hair, the pillows, until you took his hands in yours, granting him the permission to touch you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned out, continuing to rut into you as if wanting to push his cum deeper and milk himself of everything he had. It wasn’t until he was finally growing soft and sensitive that he pulled out with a shaky breath, sighing with relief as his body started to relax.

One of your hands let go of his, gently undoing the shirt covering his eyes. “You did so well, my love.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled shyly as you removed his blindfold.

You smiled to yourself, “did that feel good?”

He nodded, “yeah. Maybe we should do this more often.”

“Do you want to?” You were shocked, not expecting him to like it this much.

“Please. It was nice to be led around and be told what to do,” he admitted, putting his arms around your shoulders.

You ruffled his hair as you sat up, “you’re so cute, you know that?”

“I’m not cute,” he huffed, “but really, I mean it when I say that I liked it.”

Oh, when my baby kisses me, my heart becomes filled with desire.

“Aren’t you glad that we tried this?” You pulled him to sit up so you could continue holding him close to you.

“Best way I’ve ever started the year,” he chuckled, gratefully kissing your lips.

“Happy New Year, Mark,” you whispered, “here’s to another year of us together.”

“Here’s to another year.”

Autoplay: If you liked this, you may also like || Up From Here - w.lc ||

#NCT-writers #neowritingsnet #neosmutcollective #nschotsauce #cznnet #dreamwritersnet #kwritersworldnet #supermnet #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #NCT x reader #NCT smut #NCT 127 x reader #NCT 127 smut #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #NCT imagines #NCT scenarios #NCT fanfic #NCT fluff #NCT 127 imagines #NCT 127 scenarios #NCT 127 fanfic #NCT 127 fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[jungwooisms]

hwarang | l.donghyuck

ACT I

pairing: lee donghyuck x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, supernatural members: moon taeil, suh youngho (johnny), lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, qian kun, kim doyoung, li yongqin (ten), jeong jaehyun, dong sicheng (winwin), kim jungwoo, wong yukhei (lucas), lee minhyung (mark), xiao dejun (xiaojun), na jaemin, huang renjun, lee jeno, osaki shotaro, jeong sungchan, park jisung warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, possessiveness, minor character death, war, some historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 71.4k a/n: a big thanks to @pinkypark​, your comments really made me finish this way earlier than i planned haha it is important to read the prologue first to understand the context of this! i can’t link it here but it’s on my masterlist!

DISCLAIMER: as some parts of the Hwarang series appear in every route, some scenes will appear the same with major to minor differences within the text.

ACT I - THE TROUBLE WITH BAEKJE

February 1st, 661 – Shinson Temple, Kingdom of Silla The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds had begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol kept warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting is still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you could leave. 

A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that felt more familiar, even if they are a man’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much the Hwarang hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Kun, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Kun had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed quickly. When you were little, you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Kun allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Taeil, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few hurried steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Kun’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Kun had neglected to inform Taeil that you hadn’t been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Taeil then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Taeil chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Kun’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us occasionally, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Taeil, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Kun’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Taeil’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Kun can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

“I had no idea…” To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Taeil knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Taeil sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Kun had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Taeil’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Taeil had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Li Yongqin standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Yuta steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Yongqin.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Yuta’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Yuta notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking to the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Jaemin rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Yuta apologizes to the younger.

Jaemin then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Yukhei’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Na, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself. 

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Na’ thing? Just call me Jaemin, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Jaemin.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really can leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wong Yukhei as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’, Xuxi,” Jaemin snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Yukhei, you moving to sit on the other side of Yukhei, next to Jaehyun. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Jaehyun as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Yukhei’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Jaemin’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Jaemin’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Yukhei,” the younger retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wong’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Jaemin’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Yukhei laughs, you hear Jaehyun also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Jaem. I’ve got the bigger body; therefore, I need more food.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still growing, I’ve gotta eat too!” Jaemin protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the elder back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Jaehyun, at the tail end of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Yuta, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Yuta questions Yongqin, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting, I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Yukhei pokes, gaze shifting from Jaemin to Yongqin for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Yongqin scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Yukhei as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.”

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Jaehyun sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten. 

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Yongqin speaks up again. 

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach.

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you. 

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Yuta says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him. 

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Jaehyun speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics. 

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it. 

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Park Jisung enters the room. 

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Taeyong’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.”

Your brows raise as Yongqin shouts out, “What the hell happened?!” 

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Taeyong and Kun arrived in time to subdue them, however, Taeyong was injured at some point during the fight.”

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin. 

“According to Kun's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Jisung’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”  

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status. 

“Taeyong should be returning in a few days,” Jisung nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Moon some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room. 

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Yuta almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.” 

“... If push comes to shove, he’ll have to take it. Taeyong’s not just going to give up like that,” Yongqin frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap. 

“Don’t say that, Li,” Yukhei’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.” 

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?”

“Furies,” Jaemin begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—”

“Jaemin!” Before you know it, Jaehyun is on his feet and striding around you to the young captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes. 

“Ah—” Jaemin’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have.

“You’re overreacting, Jeong.” Yukhei stands, trying to pry Jaehyun’s iron tight grasp away from Jaemin. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Jaehyun relinquishes Jaemin’s green robes from his grip, Yukhei shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.”

“I should’ve watched myself,” Jaemin sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment. 

Yukhei’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret. 

“Those Furies that Jaemin was talking about are pitiful men,” Yongqin states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind. 

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Yukhei says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.”

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious. 

“Try your best to forget about it,” Yuta warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.”

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Yuta had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before you slip into bed and trying to drift off to sleep. 

March 3rd, 661 – Shinson Temple, Kingdom of Silla It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Kun and Taeyong had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Taeyong’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him. 

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude. 

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Taeyong was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts. 

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Qian Kun, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you.

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case. 

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Qian… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful. 

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!”

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly. 

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.” 

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang. 

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?”

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you.

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?” 

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Kun standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side. 

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Kun approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Moon.”

“Is that right?” Kun’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.”

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Lee is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.”

“That’s quite alright,” Kun waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Moon is out on training runs with Na’s squadron today.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Kun doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?”

“Yes,” Kun nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.”

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.” 

Once the stranger had exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Kun speaks up.

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.”

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize.

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shinson,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?”

“Understood,” you nod. “But can I ask who that man was?”

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Kun looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.”

“Okay.”

“Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done.

A wordless nod, understanding that asking any more of him would cause his mood to sour even more so after his meeting with Suh Kangjoon. Kun turns on his heels the same time as you, drifting away towards his room on the opposite end of the compound while you shuffle back to yours.

June 15th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla The air thick with humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had travelled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Jisung as company.  

Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule.

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not. 

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Yuta appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Qian would like a word with you.”

A wordless nod and you begin to follow him. Yuta leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Yuta go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Kun, Yongqin, Jaehyun, Yukhei and Jaemin standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting. 

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Kun says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence. 

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts. 

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Kun cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.”

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?” 

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Yuta’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Kun had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area?

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Jeong chimes in.

“Yeah,” Yukhei agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.” 

“Exactly,” Kun sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Jaemin, Yukhei and Jaehyun, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.”

“All of us?” Jaemin’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.”

Rather than entertaining Jaemin with a response, Kun looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father.

“We get what you’re trying to say, Kun,” Yongqin notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?”

“Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Kun scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Li. She isn’t my page.”

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Yongqin notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?”

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Jaehyun moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.” 

It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Kun as his page, or stay here, from what Jaehyun had suggested. 

“I think I should stay behind today,” after a moment of thinking, you come to the conclusion. There was no assurance that your father is out on the streets of Seorabeol still, and the looming threat of danger still hangs over the city.

“What?!” Jaemin frowns, “But what about your father?”

“I have to understand my place here too, though… We don’t even know if he’s there anymore,” you give him a small smile and nod, “I’m sure more chances will come.”

“If you say so,” he sounds a bit jilted, “But if you’ve already made up your mind there’s no convincing you…”

After that, the men deliberate their plans before heading off to their respective destinations and you return to your room. The thought of not going eats away at you, maybe it would’ve been better to take the risk and venture out…

“If you’re going to regret it that much, you should’ve gone with them.”

The voice behind you startles you from your thoughts, you swivel on your heels to greet who’d interrupted your thinking, “Yongqin… I’m not regretting it.” Yet, you are, so much so that you can’t bear to look into his eyes. But he smiles wryly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Not at all?” He asks with a grin, “Not even if you knew Yuta and I went out of our way to convince Kun?”

“You what…?” The revelation sucks the air from your lungs, not expecting him to say that at all. Had you wasted their kindness? “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—”

“Ah, well, it was actually Yuta that convinced him. I just stood behind him and nodded lightly.”

“Even so,” you say as you look to him, “I’m sorry… I’ll apologize to Yuta later— Should there be another opportunity, please give me another chance to join you.”

Yongqin hesitates for a moment before responding, his eyes focusing deeply on yours, “You may be able to accompany us, but you’d better keep that blade sheathed. We don’t need any recklessness holding us back.” His eyes are serious but his smile remains bright, “If there’s any sign of you becoming an issue, I won’t hesitate to put my blade through you.”

“I understand,” you say, nodding plaintively.

The Hwarang says nothing more as he removes his hand from you, turning on his heels and making his way out of the main hall.

July 7th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla Na Jaemin and Li Yongqin stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrolling rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Qian Kun. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains make you feel somewhat more relieved, you wouldn’t have to face the Demon commander alone.

“You asked to see me?”  There was a sour look on Kun’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him.

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Kun’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.”

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have.

Kun remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.”

You recall your encounter a month ago with Kangjoon at the tea shop. He’d been in search of Baekje spies… was the issue really becoming that bad? It was surely one thing to lose one’s homeland, but Silla had been nothing but civil to the former kingdom’s people, or so you’d heard.

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

The commander nods before turning to Jaemin and Yongqin, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.”

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Jaemin. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… I feel kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.”

“Mhm,” Yongqin nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.”

“I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Yongqin for a moment before you look back to Kun, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.”

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Yongqin shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Kun, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.”

“You might have a point, Li. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.”

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.”

Kun looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you, before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him.

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.”

It feels like no time at all before you reach the city’s streets accompanying Yongqin on his rounds.

“It feels like there’s more people here than usual…” You note as you walk, having to move to the side several times to let flocks of people pass by as the street lay cramped.

“Mind yourself,” Yongqin notes, pulling you to the side, out of the way of a passing cart. “Try not to wander off or something. Remember that you’re here to keep me company on my rounds.”

“Sorry I was just distracted by everyone!” You say, brushing off the dust on your pants, “The city’s much livelier now.”

His eyes twinkle and he smiles voraciously; you can sense him relax. “Well, there’s a summer festival happening soon, things are busier, I’ll give you that.” His smile wanes just a bit, “Of course, some of those loyalists are acting pretty strange too. What I’m saying it, watch yourself, alright?”

As you walk down the street with his division, no one comes within a few yards of you; they step away as soon as their eyes catch sight of the blues. You’d noticed this phenomenon briefly when you’d first joined the Hwarang on their rounds, but it seems clear that the people of Seorabeol hold some sort of respect for these men.

You stop every so often to ask some of the less intimidated passerby’s if they’d seen your father. Yet, after a few hours of searching, you finally meet someone who claims to have seen a man matching your description.

“Oh, yeah… I think I might’ve seen that guy a while back, over at Joon’s.” As he speaks, he points toward a store selling inkstones and brushes.

“Thank you!” You say as Yongqin catches your eye, giving you a stern look. It almost looks as if he’s going to scold you when—

“You there! Are you of the Kang household?!” The cry comes from a Hwarang, and Yongqin turns from you, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Your household is currently under investigation by order of the Crown.”

“Well shit…” Yongqin sighs out, reaching for his sword as he looks at the men in question. “I guess they would choose the worst possible time to stir up trouble.”

Like leaves scattering in a storm, the townspeople move out of Yongqin’s way as he moves towards the commotion. For a moment you panic in the mass of fleeing citizens, but perhaps realize it’s best. If you stay too close, you may distract Yongqin from his duties.

You duck off into a nearby alley to watch, planning to return to the men once the tension simmers.

“Hey kid,” a gravelly voice of an elder shopkeeper cries out, “Come over here, you don’t want to get caught up in that.”

Time and time you’d been told to be wary of strangers while with the Hwarang, and you’re about to politely refuse his gesture when you realize that his shop is the one that the civilian had pointed out to you just moments earlier.

“Excuse me, but is this Joon’s?”

“Yes,” the man nods, “It is.”

“Great!” You cry out, only before being interrupted by another shop employee.

“Kang! This guy was just with the Hwarang!”

“What?!” The elder says, his eyebrows raising.

“Huh? I’m not a member of the Hwarang.” You push, but the elder already seems to be backing up into his shop, obviously disinterested in helping you now. “No—it’s not like that! I’m just looking for someone!” Even if you’d just been walking with them, their reaction seems a bit excessive.

A laugh behind you and you see Yongqin standing there with his arms crossed, “You really have the shittiest luck, don’t you? Still, I guess you could say the same about them, or me.” He gives a small, unconcerned shrug before reaching for his blade and barreling his way through the door of the shop.

Joon’s explodes with the clang of blades, men swearing and scrambling.

When you return to the Hwarang headquarters, Taeyong has a number of… less than pleasant words to say. Yongqin and you kneel for quite some time as the colonel berates you before the other speaks up.

“You don’t need to lose your head over it Taeyong,” Yongqin sighs, “After all, we arrested a couple of loyalists.”

After the fighting was finished, you’d discovered a massive arms cache, as well as plans for a new meeting for the loyalists. No one had bothered to explain to you what had been going on, however, and you’d been completely lost.

“Not something to lose my head over?” Taeyong frowns, “My head is right where it belongs. Perhaps you should inquire after yours. The man claiming to be Joon Hyunjin was, in truth, Moon Kwanghyeon, a loyalist spy. You were aware that the Hwarang were allowing him to operate in hopes of gathering enemy intel?”

“Yes,” Yongqin nods, rising to his feet as Jaehyun walks into the hall, “but we didn’t have a choice this time. I had to bring him in.”

“Well at least it wasn’t a total bust,” Jaehyun adds, “Like Yongqin said, they did arrest some guys.”

“But don’t you feel bad for Shotaro and Minhyung?” Jaemin asks, trailing in behind Jaehyun. Had they been outside the doors this whole time? “They were staking out the place to keep an eye on Kwanghyeon.”

The corners of Jaemin’s mouth twitch into a smile, but Shotaro interrupts him to continue. “We appreciate your concern, Jaemin, but nobody needs to lose any sleep on our account. We hadn’t been getting anywhere with him the last few days, Yongqin did us a favor.”

Minhyung nods in silent agreement. “His arrest is over and done, you won’t hear any complaints from us about it, though.”

“You’re the definition of stoic and reasonable,” Yukhei sighs out, crossing his arms, “Yongqin on the other hand…” It doesn’t seem as if he’s going to let Yongqin get away without rubbing his mistake in his face.

“It’s all my fault,” you speak up, “Some loyalists were causing trouble, so I tried to get out of the way… I was going to go back to Yongqin after it settled but the crowds pushed me too far away.”

“But who was tasked with looking after you?” Taeyong asks, his eyes glaring at you, expression hard and angry. “A captain of the Hwarang can’t even track a charge. Is this the best we can do?” When you’d first met Taeyong, he’d been nice, if anything a little quiet. After his injury, however… It was as if he’d become an entirely different person.

“I told her she could go.” Kun says as he walks into the hall, “They were only following orders.”

Taeyong’s eyes trail him as he moves to stand at the head of the room. He gives the commander a tight, wry smile, but only receives a peaceful, impartial glance in return.

“If you’re here, then that means you’re done interrogating Kwanghyeon, right?” Jaehyun asks expectantly.

“They’re going to wait for a day when the wind picks up, then set Seorabeol on fire and kidnap the King while everyone else is losing their shit.” Kun answers, “So they say, at least.” His voice is calm and measured, but you can all feel the import of his words.

“Burn down the city?” Yukhei scoffs, “Those loyalists are crazier than I thought.”

“Whatever their reasons, we cannot ignore them,” Yuta says plainly.

“They’re probably meeting tonight to scramble together a plan without Kwanghyeon in it.” Kun says, “We need to get ready to move out.”

“Understood,” Yuta nods.

“Finally,” Yukhei says as he stretches, several pops coming from his back, “I’m getting chills.”

Even though each man displays their professionalism differently, they are all clearly prepared. As they quiet down, Kun turns towards you, as if he’d only just noticed you’re standing there.

“We did get some information on Heo, apparently he visited Joon’s with some men from the west.”

“What?”

“So, the rumors that he was seen in Seorabeol were true, but that’s all there is to it.”

There are so many questions running through your head, that you want to ask but you know that no one here has an answer for them.

Preparations for the raid begin immediately after the captains are all gathered in the main hall. There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that light the entrances and walls. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

It still affects you all the same. Your encounter at Joon’s created some of their current headache, and you hope to make up for it. Yet, any offer of assistance now is rebuked, it became quite clear that you have very little to offer when it comes to preparing for a raid. At the end of it, you stick to the wall, standing there quietly to avoid being a burden.

“Taeil has only twelve men ready to fight,” Yuta murmurs to Jaehyun.

“And Kun and I have twenty-four a piece, everyone’s sick!” Jaehyun says exasperatedly. There had been a swift food poisoning epidemic earlier in the week leaving many men bedridden. It’s like they’re now divided in half. Taeil would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Kun would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Do you think we’ll bring ‘em along tonight?” Jaehyun asks, “It’d be perfect…”

Them?

“I heard they won’t see combat for a while. They’re having… difficulty adjusting.” Yuta frowns. “They stop listening to orders as soon as they see blood. It’s rather inconvenient.”

The topic confuses you, yet you feel as if you’d heard something similar a while ago. Both of the captains hadn’t realized that you’re listening to their conversation. But it’s crucial that you don’t speak up.

“They’ve gotta be spinning in their graves… Didn’t they choose to do this so they could fight?”

“Jae… You can only say that after someone’s actually dead.”

“I guess you’re right,” the younger of the two captains sighs out, “They aren’t really dead, are they? They’re actually harder to kill now…”

Now you really know you’re not supposed to be listening to this. To remove yourself from the area, you quickly begin to walk outside of the main hall, but as you open the door, you nearly run into another figure.

“Huh? What’re you doing in here?” Taeil says as he holds his arms out to steady you as you brake in front of him.

“Oh… I… I couldn’t just sit there…” You explain to him how you feel useless in this situation, that you’d left your room to try and help but found nothing you could do.

“Of course,” he smiles, trying to comfort you, “I know how you feel! The men are pretty excited, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” you nod, not knowing if excited was the best term for him to use. Bloodthirsty may have been better,

“Would you care to join us?” He asks simply.

“What?!” You sputter out, not expecting him to say that. “You mean go to a raid with you? I don’t think that I could—”

“You see, many of my men are out with food poisoning, so we’re a bit understaffed. We could certainly use a messenger, but if you’d rather not, there’s no need to feel obligated.”

“Well, alright,” you nod, remembering that Taeil’s group had lost the most men due to the sickness, “if I’ll just be a messenger, it should be okay.”

His face splits into a grin and you find yourself on the way to Wonweol Inn to accompany their raid.

After you arrived at Wonweol, you were sent off on several short errands nearby. When you return, you hear Yukhei talking to Yongqin.

“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot on this one. Not sure if they’re brave, or stupid, for meeting right next to a government building.” Yukhei says, glancing to the building next to the Inn.

“I knew they’d be here,” Yongqin sighs, “After all, they’ve had a record of meeting at Wonweol.”

“Sure,” Yukhei says, crossing his arms, “but the night Kwanghyeon gets arrested? That just seems sloppy to me. Aren’t they afraid of looking suspicious?”

“Well obviously they’re somewhat less than normal,” Yongqin quips, “They are meeting at Wonweol, aren’t they?”

Their conversation is somewhat lighthearted, which doesn’t quite match the subject matter. As you approach, Jaemin notices you and jogs over.

“How’d it go?” He questions, “Did you see anyone from the Guard?”

You shake your head before answering, “To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone nearby.”

“So, they still haven’t made their move? We told them that we’d be here before dark…”

“Calm down, Jaem,” Yukhei says as he walks over, lightly slapping the younger on the back, “It won’t do us any good if they show up anyway. If this is gonna happen, we’ve gotta do it ourselves.”

“I guess… It’s just that running in on our own seems a little reckless?” Jaemin frowns, and Kangjoon, who’s on standby behind Jaemin, nods in agreement.

“It is reckless.” He asserts, “We should wait for the Guard’s reinforcements.”

“If you believe that’s the best course of action,” Taeil cedes, “Then why don’t we wait a little longer.”

Yet, no matter how long you wait, the officials still haven’t made it.

You find yourself looking up at the sky. The moon inching further across the scape the longer you stay in the recesses of Wonweol.

“It’s getting late…” Yukhei murmurs.

“What do you want to do, Chief?” Yongqin asks Taeil, “It’d be pretty shitty if we just sat here all night.”

Taeil had been quiet all this time, yet when Yongqin spoke to him, he stood up, ready to address his men.

“We can’t wait a moment longer. Yongqin, Yukhei, Jaemin: you all, follow me.”

Yongqin nods quietly but firmly as Kangjoon speaks up, “I will secure the front entrance so you guys can have at it.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Jaemin questions, surprised.

“It’s all good,” Yongqin quips, “I mean, we don’t want him in the dark and then mistakenly stabbing us you know? Oh, actually… We may mistakenly stab him.”

“What are you suggesting, Yongqin?” Kangjoon frowns as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Now, now.” Yukhei intervenes, “If you want someone charging, we want someone reliable anyways. So, with that said, take care of the outside, Kangjoon.”

“Can you stay away from the Inn?” Taeil turns as he asks you, “Things are going to get dangerous. That place is full of rebel soldiers. We don’t intend to allow them to escape, but… better safe than sorry.”

“Alright,” you say as he smiles at you, motioning for the men to join him in rushing the inn.

The battle begins in earnest. The yells of men and the clang of swords fills the air soon after the Hwarang make their way inside, the sounds roll out of the doors and windows of the inn.

You can hear feet pounding up the stairs, the screams of men dying and the wet thud of bodies dropping to the floor.

“Damn it!” You hear Yukhei shout out, “There’s too many of them! We need backup! Is there anyone outside?!”

There had been moments prior, but all of the men who’d come with the captains had run around back and couldn’t hear Yukhei call out. Kangjoon, on the other hand, is stationed outside, arresting any man attempting to flee the building.

Is the only person left to help really you? Your thoughts interrupted when Taeil yells out—

“Yongqin! Are you alright?!”

“Damn it Jaemin! Don’t die on me!” Yukhei calls out from somewhere else inside the building.

You have no desire to enter a slaughterhouse, with men killing and maiming one another. Even if you do, you have no illusions about your skill with a blade. You’re sure to be killed before you even draw it.

Perhaps though, instead of fighting, you can rescue the wounded and pull them from the inn. This is how you find yourself drawn closer to the fray, only running inside when you hear Yukhei yell out once again.

Inside, it’s pitch black. The smell of blood hits your stomach like a fist. Black masses lay crumpled on the floor; the bodies of dead or dying men. Where are Yongqin and Jaemin?

Entering the building had seemed a good idea on the outside, but now that you look around the charnel house, you realize that there is no way you can carry two men outside.

With the fighting going on, and in the darkness too, you’d only be an impediment to the Hwarang should you choose to stumble around blindly in the dark— Looking around the inn, you cannot see a singular face thar you recognize. It’s not until an unfamiliar face shouts out at you and raises their blade, do you fully realize the severity of your situation. 

Yet, before the blade meets your flesh, another sword juts out and parries it away from you.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yukhei shouts out to the revivalist, “You’re fighting me!” The Hwarang swings again and ends up burying his sword deep into the man’s stomach.

Eyes trained on the blood pouring from the wound and now the man’s mouth, you can’t find it within yourself to look away.

“Would you mind checking upstairs?” Yukhei asks quickly, his eyes trained on a few more men stumbling into the main room, “No one’ll get past me. I promise!” With that, he pushes past you and heads towards the group of men, your eyes focusing on the bright crimson trailing down his hand from a cut he’d received earlier. “Get going!” He calls out as his blade crashes against another’s.

And so, you do, quickly slipping by the throng of fighting bodies as you travel quickly up the staircase, your feet thudding along the wood.

The scent of blood had travelled upstairs too, stinging your nose with its metallic tang as you look around the hall. Without another thought, you open the nearest door and run into the room. It seems like this darkened corner of the inn hasn’t been tainted with bloodshed yet, the interior clean and tidy.

“Pray tell, why are you here?” A voice calls out from the dark and you realize you aren’t alone. At the open window, someone stares off into the darkness, the breeze of the night carrying his voice to you.

He wears no uniform belonging to either the revivalists or the Hwarang, just pale-yellow robes embroidered with a flower you can’t make out in the dark.

Even as you stand shocked, you have a plethora of questions; Why is he here? What is he doing? Who is he?

It seems like he hasn’t partaken in the battle, only looking to the streets coated in moonlight as the fighting wages downstairs. He seems calm, almost serene in the way he stands and throws a look back to you.

“Who are you?” You find yourself asking as his reddened eyes pierce into yours.

“Are you the one asking questions now?” A small smile dances along his lips as he only replies with a question himself. “Worry about where you are more than you’re worried about me.”

His words snap you from the tranquility of the moment. Right, he’s an enemy, isn’t he? Instinctively, your hand reaches for the blade at your hip, his brow raising at your movement.

“Planning on joining the fight?” As his gaze lingers on the steel, his eyes widen, “Wait, is that—?” The man now stands facing you directly, taking a step towards you as his eyes remain fixated on the blade.

Just then, the door to the room flies open and a bloodied warrior saunters in, looking frantically to the stranger, “Hey, the Hwarang raided—” His report stops when he lays eyes on you, “Who the hell are you?!” Without hesitation, he reaches for his blade after not recognizing you as one of his own, and begins to swing at you. Although, before his blade can reach your head, a loud shout comes from the first man you’d encountered.

“Quiet!” Almost in a blink of an eye, he’d unsheathed his own sword and charged at the already bloodied man, felling him with a singular strike. Once the man falls to the floor, the now closer of the two looks to you, “Didn’t I tell you? You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Why did you…” Your eyes still focused on the man who lays dead or dying at your feet, “Isn’t he your ally?”

“If he were an ally, I wouldn’t have cut him loose.” His self-possession quiets you as he sheathes his sword.

It’s obvious that he isn’t a member of the Hwarang. You don’t know his purpose here, too.

Above anything, his gaze captures yours, enamoring your senses as if he were the only thing that mattered right now. His eyes draw you into a lucid hypnosis, filling you with doubt about if he is a threat to you at all.

“…Thank you,” you’re able to say once you regain a bit of composure.

A smirk crawls to the corner of his mouth, “Looks like you have some manners despite staying by the Hwarang’s side.” He’s mocking the men that had taken you in, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to argue against what he’s saying.

“Why did you save me?” Questioning as his gaze falls to the blade at your hip.

“Does that belong to you?” Ignoring your question, he imposes his own. His eyes glimmer an almost burgundy from the silver light of the moon refracting into the room.

“It does…” your hand now hovers near the blade as he lets out a soft laugh.

“Then you can thank your blade.” Before you can ask him why, he turns but not before giving you a sly wink. “My business here is done. You can do whatever you want.” He takes his time walking towards the open window, jumping through it without any hesitation or final words.

Your feet carry you to the window, but there isn’t any sign of the stranger. No footprints, no up kick of dirt—nothing. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t aligned with either side here tonight, so then why had he been at the inn?

Standing there dumbfounded, you sense a presence entering the room behind you quietly. A prickle on the back of your neck and you slowly wrap your hand around your blade.

“Are you alright?” The voice of Lee Minhyung startles you and you spin on your feet. You look to him with a puzzled expression, hadn’t he gone to Jeolin with Kun? It’s then your shoulders let go of their tension for a moment, reinforcements had arrived.

August 2nd, 661 - Kingdom of Silla Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets, that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court, despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch.

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex.

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?”

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.”

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, he then pauses, his eyes widening. “You’re…”

“Huh?”

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Kun standing in the doorway. He looks from you to the man and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak.

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-”

Before you can finish speaking, the stranger almost gleefully runs to the commander.

“I knew it!” he says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Kun, “It’s me, Jungwoo, long time no see!”

“Y- Wait, Jungwoo?” Kun looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!”

A laugh from Jungwoo, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.”

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs.

Kun doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.”

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Jungwoo’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol, and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.”

Kun looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Jungwoo to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him.

It was an odd thing to see Kun flustered, you’d really only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Yongqin would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Jungwoo’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends?

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, can I ask who this is?”

“Oh, yeah. You two haven’t met, I take it?” Kun muses and turns to look at you.

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Jungwoo nods, “My name is Kim Jungwoo. I’m a Naegeumwi.”

You introduce yourself quickly.

“It’s nice to meet you officially,” he smiles and gives you a short bow.

Kun then gazes to look to the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?”

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that was still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods for them. After you’d set down the tray, Kun told you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing.

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Kun asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea.

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Jungwoo explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you’re unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability.

Kun, glancing to you and seeing your viable confusion, speaks up, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.”

“Oh wow,” you look at Jungwoo, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.”

“Please,” it’s the same humbled tone he’d used at the tea shop, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.”

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Kun. While the Hwarang work under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Jungwoo works quite literally with the king.

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Kun asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Jungwoo a Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Kim Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a fairly prestigious school after his time in office, and now Jungwoo here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Kim school and that’s how I came to meet him.”

“That’s right,” Jungwoo nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find Kun.” His eyes shine with admiration towards Kun, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Kim,” Kun sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.”

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Jungwoo looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Kun for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.”

“I know,” Kun’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.”

“I understand,” the guard agrees.

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Jungwoo was about to begin teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in.

“Jungwoo!” Yukhei says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!”

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wong thought he was hallucinating,” Jaehyun notes as he greets Jungwoo.

“Yukhei, Jaehyun,” a smile curling onto Jungwoo’s lips as Yukhei relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.”

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Yukhei asks.

“Don’t be stupid, Wong. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Jaemin questions as he looks to the guard.

A breathy chuckle from Jungwoo, “It’s… something like that.”

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Yuta notes, as he looks at Jungwoo.

Jungwoo nods silently to affirm him while Yongqin speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Jungwoo looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Yukhei shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit.

The rest of the captains surround Jungwoo for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them.

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Kun’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.”

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Jungwoo seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them.

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Jungwoo notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties.

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Jungwoo smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway.

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Jungwoo was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm.

August 15th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river.

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Kun has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Jeong Jaehyun was about to head out, you decided to tag along.

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you.

“Jaehyun?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?”

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?”

“Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more.

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Goguryeo last month so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.”

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?”

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off of merchants...”

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Jaehyun down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Yukhei’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?”

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.”

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.”

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Yukhei seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious.

“Did you find anything fun, Yukhei?” Jaehyun questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Yukhei flagging you down other than wanting to say hello.

“Nothing in particular…” Yukhei admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.”

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements.

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things.

“You think they’re worried about the war with Goguryeo or the Baekje guys?” Jaehyun asks Yukhei, crossing his arms.

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Jaehyun to Yukhei, confusion seeped into your voice.

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.”

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Jaehyun frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.”

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Jaehyun had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works.

“Not sure,” Yukhei says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Jaehyun notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain.

“If the loyalists continue their stunts, then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Yukhei sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital.

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do.

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Yukhei shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side.

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Jaehyun nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.”

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer wasn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back to Jaehyun, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.”

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.”

August 18th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp course on your palm. The heat of its contents rising up to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.”

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand.

“Thanks!” Yukhei calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.”

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Jisung trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup.

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips and blowing on the warm contents.

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Yongqin swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?”

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.”

“Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jaemin butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Yuta?”

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.”

It looks as if Jaemin’s about to speak again before Taeil barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face.

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Sabi. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Taeil says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks.

As you scan the faces of the room, there was one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Taeil finishes.

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Kun says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.”

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Kun speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go, they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.”

“Jaemin and Yongqin,” Taeyong says after Kun’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well. 

“Speak for yourself,” Yongqin frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…”

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Jaemin points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Moon’s just being too careful.”

“Are you being serious?” Jaehyun scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it hurt still last night.”

“You bastard,” Jaemin pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?”

“Oh, believe me, I do, Na.” Jaehyun shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation.

“HEY!” Jaemin whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Jaehyun’s mouth but the older moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Jaemin then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday.

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Jaemin.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again.

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Yukhei interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?”

Even if you said that you’d join Yukhei and Jaehyun when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them.

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Taeil says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Moon Taeil was very easily swayed by his men’s words. 

“What?” Jaemin says, almost confused as he looks from Yukhei to Jaehyun. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?”

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Yukhei says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them.

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations. 

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Kun says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.” 

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Taeyong argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.”

“Taeyong…” Yuta speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?”

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Taeyong looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain. 

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale. 

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Yuta’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.”

“Great!” Taeil exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.”

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Yongqin speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.”

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you? 

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want. 

August 24, 661 - Outside of Ongsan, Kingdom of Silla (former Baekje stronghold) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be.

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the once border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids.

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns unfamiliar and the faces just as so. 

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Yongqin and Jaemin are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Taeil speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor. 

“My name is Moon Taeil, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Jeong Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there.

Jeong Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Jeong Jaehyun and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior. 

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?”

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now; it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek.

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Yuta leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.” 

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking. 

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Yuta nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.”

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission.

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Taeil stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-” 

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Taeil, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.”

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Taeil frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation.

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Yuta speaks up, stepping over to Taeil. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Yuta was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts.

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Jeong’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.”

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Yuta states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.”

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.”

“And I’m the leader,” Taeil interjects, “Yuta’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.”

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time. 

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Taeil is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting. 

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops. 

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Yukhei says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Jeongsu’s not a friendly face around here.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Jaehyun saddling up beside you.

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Jaehyun says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.” 

“That and he’s a major prick,” Yukhei adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.”

“Come on you guys,” Taeil says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line. 

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Taeil, Kun and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Jeongsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do. 

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Jisung, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile. 

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Jeongsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.”

“Why would he do that?” You ask a tilt of your head. Earlier, Jaehyun has said that his and Jeongsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies. 

“I don’t know,” Jisung shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.”

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Yukhei’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle. 

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Yuta says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.”

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else. 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Jaehyun says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep.

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment. 

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. 

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock.

“What was that?” You question Yuta as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp.

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” he says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now, 

“Let’s get a move on!” Kun shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!”

“We were told to stay here,” Park Jeongsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Kun, “You don’t command my men.”

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!” 

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Jeongsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang. 

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Kun huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Kun, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off. 

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Yuta as Kun passes by, muttering something to himself.

“To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.”

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly.

Kun’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Jeongsu and Qian Kun, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate. 

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seem to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers. 

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart. 

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Kun orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Taeil sighing as he does so.

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Yuta returning from his survey of the area. 

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Kun, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.”

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Kun questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action. 

“They’re still fighting,” Yuta nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Kun’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.”

“Qian!” Jaehyun shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.”

Kun’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Jeong as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Minhyung also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress. 

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.”

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Taeil is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Kun to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Jeongsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next. 

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Kun’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Jeong, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Nakamoto,” he turns to Minhyung and Yuta, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Jeong needs any reinforcements at the pass.”

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officer before the commander turns to Taeil, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Jeongsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.”

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice.

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Taeil nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Taeil’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council. 

“Jisung, can you go with him?” Kun asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.”

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.” 

Kun smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Taeil, but other than that it’s up to you.”

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders. 

“I’ll go with you, then,” you say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Kun, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside. 

The groups disperse shortly after, Jaehyun and his men heading to the pass, Taeil and Jisung leaving for the main camp, Minhyung and Yuta leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Kun and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself. 

Kun, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There’s someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter.

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen.

Kun, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance. 

“What the hell?!” Yukhei shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“Commander… He was at Wonweol!” You say, finally realizing where you’d seen this man before.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?”

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now. 

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Kun’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.”

“You’re the swordsman who beat Yongqin at Wonweol?” Kun asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable. 

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing to the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn; his name is Yongqin? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.”

You know from watching the men train that Yongqin is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s?

“Insult Li all you want,” Yukhei stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.”

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.”

You glance at Kun and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang. 

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.” 

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused. 

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor. 

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Kun steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!”

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Kun. 

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Kun argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?”

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Kun states, “So are you ready to accept the consequence of what happens when you kill one of my men?”

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?”

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Kun’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Yongqin, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch. 

Next to you, you can see Yukhei reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Kun gain the upper hand.

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that. 

Even if Kun can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech.

Yukhei turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Qian, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!” 

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Kun says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!”

“Alright!” Yukhei calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!”

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain.

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them.

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Kun calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.”

“Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Kun’s, the swing causing Kun to reel back once receiving it.

Now that there was more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Yukhei and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Kun, but relent after a bit, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops. 

“Keep running!” Kun calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more. 

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs.

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men and draw your blade instinctively. Knees locking together, your swordsmanship wouldn’t be useful in battle but maybe, just maybe, you can buy the other men some time.

The next thing you know, a high pitch screech of metal rings out and you’re on the ground. The stranger’s hit had blindsided you, and when your eyes refocus, you see his blade pointing down at you as a trickle of blood runs down your face.

“That blade…” The stranger murmurs, looking to the steel that had fallen out of your grasp and lay only a foot or two away, “A familiar sight indeed.” Their eyes lock onto yours, “Hey, do you even realize what’s happening? The wound on your face is already starting to heal.”

Your hand flies to your cheek, fingers brushing over where the cut should have been, but it had already healed. The pain had stopped and the blood had staunched itself. The stranger’s crimson eyes widen.

“Who would’ve thought I’d meet another one of us here. And a female Demon, no less…” His gaze is scrutinizing, “What is your name? And how did you come across this?”

Before you can answer, a dull clang of metal cries out above you as Kun swings his sword from behind while the stranger parries it in front.

“Get away!” Kun shouts out angrily, holding his sword, ready to strike again.

“Bastard, stay out of my way!”

“I’m the one you’re fighting!” Kun reiterates, “Or do you only prey on the weak? I didn’t take you for a bully.”

“How dare you, you monarchist dog,” The stranger near growls out as Kun looks to you.

“Go on ahead!” He says and suddenly, energy jolts through you.

You scramble off of the ground, urgency picking up your feet as you begin to dash away. Even if Kun had been there, you don’t think he’d seen your cut heal, at least you hope he hadn’t.

Demon. One of us.

The words of the stranger reverberate around your head as you run, but you can’t dwell on it now as you run to catch up with Yukhei and the other men.

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison had broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Kun hadn’t arrived as the battles wane to a close and the sun begins to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Osaki, or Shotaro as you’ve come to learn. Like Minhyung, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.”

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope on seeing return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky. 

It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face.

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Shotaro says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Kun. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.”

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face.

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.”

“Who was he?” Shotaro asks, tilting his head slightly.

“His name is Lee Donghyuck. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.”

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Kun sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must mean something to them.”

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Shotaro muses.

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Kun says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.”

Before Kun can ramble and rant about Donghyuck, Yukhei and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Yukhei stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards.

“We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Yukhei’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict. 

“Honorable suicide, then?” Kun nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.”

“Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them.

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.”

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey. 

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.”

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning. 

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops.

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn: 

Lee Donghyuck, who had defeated Yongqin at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Kun. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang.

Xiao Dejun, the man who had injured Jaemin at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Lee Donghyuck.

And then there was Dong Sicheng, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance. 

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies. 

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labelling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court. 

September 8th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry. 

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Jaemin, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits. 

The burning sun hits your face as Taeil and you see Jaemin off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior. 

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!”

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

“Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Taeil notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.”

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Taeil, “I remember you mentioning someone once.”

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Taeil sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.” 

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Jaemin relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.”

“That’s all we need,” Taeil nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the younger Hwarang. 

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Jaemin then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!”

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Taeil, the melancholier you feel. Taeil looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?”

“Of course, seeing out numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” he says as Jaemin finally disappears outside of the main entrance. 

September 27th, 661 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla Time passes quickly after Jaemin’s departure. So fast, that the date of Taeil’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead.

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him.

“Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?”

“I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Jaemin alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?”

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Jaemin’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Taeil is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Jaemin’s departure.

“It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Kun will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Taeil probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Jaemin’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you.

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Taeil looks at you now with a sad, small smile. 

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you sure?” Taeil pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something.

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?”

“Are you-?” Taeil’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?”

“I am,” you nod quickly.

“Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words. 

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?”

“If I’m going to help watch over Shinson while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.”

Taeil chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.”

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible.

Taeil mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.”

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Taeil’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin. 

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Moon school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.” 

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you.

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?”

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly. 

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.”

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction. 

“Too weak!” Taeil shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.”

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl.

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…”

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Taeil had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you.

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you.

Taeil looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.” 

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.”

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet.

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Kun, Yongqin, and Jisung all attended my family’s school. Taeyong, Jaemin, Yukhei and Jaehyun joined us afterwards, Yuta never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.”

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Taeil’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Kim Alcheon had done.

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud.

“It was,” Taeil nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment. 

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Taeil speaks up, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.”

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

February 6th, 662 - Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla The new year sweeps in not unexpectedly, but with a gust of cold that chills you to your core. Seorabeol sits under a blanket of snow, much like it had when you first arrived a little over a year ago now. 

You finish eating breakfast with the captains a little earlier than they do, you excuse yourself to make them some tea before their morning briefing. Thankfully, the halls remain warm, so you don’t need to worry about the winter chill as you make your way back to the main hall, the smattering of captains sitting around. 

“Thank you,” Jisung says as you set down a cup by him, a smile on his lips as he wraps his cold fingers around the steaming cup. You make your way around the hall to give the captains their drinks, most giving you a curt but appreciative nod as you do so.

“The monks at this temple have been nice enough to let us stay here this long,” Kun calls out, disrupting your thoughts as he speaks to the captains, “but Shinson is getting crowded.”

“Especially with all of the new guys coming in,” Jaehyun agrees, nodding his head.

“If we could get a bigger space, that’d be good,” Yukhei adds, a tinge to his voice as if he’s thinking about how little room there is to move around these days. ��Even in the overflow buildings it’s stuffy.”

“Most of these kids are nobles too, not accustomed to living like this,” Jaehyun sighs, not vouching for them, just knowing it would take some time to acquaint themselves with their newfound home.

“If we can find somewhere bigger to host us,” Yongqin speaks up, “I’m sure the newbies would be more appreciative.” 

“What about Bulguksa Temple?” The man sitting next to Taeil speaks up, glancing over to the map hanging in the front of the room. 

“Bulguksa?” Suh Kangjoon frowns, looking towards the map, “Isn’t that a bit far?”

“Maybe,” the man shrugs, “But it’s one of the only places big enough to accommodate the Seorabeol Hwarang. And its position would allow a tactical advantage in times of panic, it’s a relatively easy place to fortify.”

After he’s done speaking, the man leans back in his chair to see what the others have to say. Kim Gongmyung had joined the Hwarang on Jaemin’s excursion to Hanseong in early autumn of last year. His family’s school is quite popular there and his academics gained him notoriety with the nobles of the area. “Besides, it’s closer to the border so if there’s a need to intercept or fend off any Baekje loyalists looking for trouble, it’d put us in the best spot to do so.”

“Those are good points,” Taeil nods enthusiastically, “An exceptional amount of detail as always, Gongmyung.”

Even if the chief thought it to be a good idea, a few voices rose in opposition.

“Isn’t it a bit… presumptive to do something like that?” Taeyong frowns at Gongmyung, his hands atop the table, fingers tapping along the wooden grains. 

Gongmyung’s smile flickers as he turns to the colonel, “Then would it be better to be negligent of the possibility, the high possibility, that the loyalists are up to something again?” His question leaves little room for the colonel to answer before he begins speaking again, “It’s a lovely thought, thinking that we’re safe now, but we all know it’s not true.” His deflection of Taeyong’s statement leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth.

“I agree that the loyalists need to be stopped, but to place our personal interest there instead of being directed to do so by the Crown or the council is…” Taeyong trails off, clearly thinking more inwardly than he was expressing outwardly.

“So, then, what should we do?” Another voice piques up, questioning Taeyong. “Wait until the bastards are knocking at our door to actually do something about it? Or maybe wait until they’ve actually captured Munmu and have burned the palace to the gro-”

“Doyoung,” Gongmyung interjects, “Watch your mouth.”

“My mistake,” Doyoung scoffs after a moment of staring at his brother for interrupting him, “Couldn’t stop myself.”

Kim Doyoung is the younger brother of Kim Gongmyung by blood, and only by the same father. Doyoung had joined the Hwarang with Gongmyung in autumn and had accompanied him to Seorabeol with both Jaemin and Kun.

“He still has the tendency to run his mouth like a child, still,” Gongmyung explains, “I apologize.” His attention then turns back to Taeyong and away from his brother, “So, don’t take it too personally, please. I’m sure someone like you is needed to make the Hwarang successful. Even if your arm is unusable in a fight, your smarts and tactical abilities will prove all the more useful.”

You see Taeyong biting back a retort towards Gongmyung’s sour wording, the tension between the two only cut by another voice. 

“I don’t think I heard you correctly, Gongmyung.” It’s Kun, his voice low as if he’s trying to stabilize the tone so as to not sound angry. “Taeyong is smart, as you said. He is not useless and not replaceable, make sure you don’t forget that.” The commander only speaks when there’s something important to be said, having spoken up now means that Gongmyung’s words must’ve gotten to him. 

“My arm, though…” Taeyong mutters out, seemingly unable to finish the thought. Kun’s words remind him of what he once was, causing him to frown at the reality of it all.

“I didn’t mean to cause such a disturbance,” Gongmyung sighs out with false sympathy, “I’ll be sure to keep my thoughts to myself next time. Taeyong is quite a beloved member, I see, it’s nice to see such a tight knit group. I can only hope the new members share that sentiment.”

Kun’s eyes seethe with anger as he glares at Gongmyung, but before he’s able to snip back, Taeil steps in and tries to calm the air.

“For now,” He begins, looking at each member of the opposing parties, “Let’s just keep matters on finding a new headquarter location. Gongmyung, would you mind coming with me? I’d love to continue our earlier conversation.”

“Of course, Chief.” Gongmyung says and rises to his feet at the same time Taeil does, the two begin to leave the room, quickly followed out by Kangjoon.

“May I join you as well?” The latter asks before the two step out of the hall.

“Of course,” Taeil accepts, “I’d like you to hear what Gongmyung has to say, it may help you with strategy points.”

“Thank you,” Kangjoon says with an appreciative smile as the three exits, shortly followed by Doyoung who scoffs at the encounter before slinking out after them.

“Who’s the asshole that invited them to join us?” Yongqin frowns once the sound of their footsteps fell out of earshot. 

“That asshole’s still in Hanseong,” Yukhei huffs, “When Jaemin gets back I might just wring his neck.”

“The Kim’s father is friends with a few pro-military councilmen,” Jaehyun muses, “Interesting to see that they’d join us if they share in those same beliefs.” 

“They’re probably playing at some sort of superiority game,” Kun says, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just listen to the bullshit that Doyoung spouts off, and it looks like it’s rubbing off on Taeil. And that’s definitely not good.”

“Taeil’s always been like that,” Yongqin adds, “Easily deceived by those who act nice and appear virtuous but are just vipers waiting for the right time to strike.”

“And Gongmyung’s the deputy commander with Doyoung in a captain’s position,” Jaehyun shakes his head, “They’ve rooted themselves deep.”

Kun’s gaze travels to Taeyong, who’s been staring at the patterns in the wood since his conversation with Gongmyung. “Don’t listen to him,” the commander says to him in hopes of cheering him up. 

“Gongmyung is a skilled orator with a proficient education to back it,” Taeyong laughs dryly, “And not only that, but he’s also skilled with a sword and bow. With a gifted Deputy Commander, the Hwarang have little need for a colonel now.”

“Taeyong-” Kun begins to protest as the colonel rises to his feet and starts to head for the exit. The commander’s voice trails after Taeyong as he leaves quietly, no one daring to stop him.

“Of all people…” Jaehyun sighs out, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair, “Even the wang-do are avoiding him now.”

“Why?” You question and turn to the captain, “It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.”

“It’s his attitude,” Yukhei responds in the elder’s stead, “It doesn't matter what you say to him, he takes it the wrong way regardless.”

“Not to mention the smartass tone he’s been taking up,” a twisted frown settles onto Jaehyun’s face, “it’s no wonder the men are scared shitless of him.”

Their words confuse you, even though you haven’t been here as long as the other captains, Taeyong was well liked among everyone in the Hwarang. After he’d received his injury, it seems as if that demeanor has taken a turn for the worse. 

“Can’t you come up with an excuse to get Gongmyung the hell out of here?” Yongqin asks, turning towards Kun. “There’s barely been a moment of civility since he got here.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Kun’s expression turns sour, “Taeil’s all over the guy. Besides, he brought in a bunch of warriors from Hanseong, their allegiance doesn’t solely lie with us yet. They’ll pack up and leave the second we tell him to get lost.”

“Fuck him though!” Yongqin does little to quell the irateness of his voice, “You’re the goddamn demon commander, make the impossible happen!”

Kun barks out a snarkish laugh, “Fine, Li. How about I make you commander so you can kick Gongmyung and his thugs out?”

“Hell no,” Yongqin snickers, “That’s too much work.”

It eventually comes to fruition that Gongmyung isn’t to be trusted, having no other captains speak out on his behalf. 

You’re going around once more to distribute tea to the men when you stop by Yuta, who’d been quiet for most of, if not all, of the prior conversation. He looks up at you, as if he had felt your thoughts wander over to him. 

“What are your thoughts on Gongmyung joining?” You ask as he sets down his teacup onto the tabletop. 

Yuta sighs as you begin topping off the cup, “As any group begins to grow in numbers, it’ll have more and more people with differing opinions.” You pull the pot away from his cup, staunching the flow of the liquid, “Although, if one intends to be the catalyst for change instead of it occurring naturally, the group will begin to kill itself from the inside out.” His words hang heavy as you stand next to him, unsure of what to say next. 

Gongmyung’s acceptance into the Hwarang, from your perspective, wasn’t to tear them apart, but maybe to cause dissension among the members. You’re not fond of him, but his treatment towards Taeyong and the colonel’s receptiveness to the critiques is what worries you the most. It’s not as if his arm would work again overnight, it would take a miracle to happen, and Taeyong doesn’t seem like the type to frequent shamans. 

Sometime later you find yourself wandering back to your room, the meeting dissipating with little to be done with the newest arrivals. Although cold outside, the setting sun gives off little warmth as you trapeze yourself through one of the gardens. The reddish-maroon of the sinking star unsettling you.

You still have Taeyong in mind as you pause for a moment, staring up at the shifting hues of the heavens. A conversation you’d heard in as the news of Taeyong’s injury had spurred the conversation of the Furies as well as a serum. By the way they’d spoken of it, it made it seem as if the item was only used in dire circumstances, and it was highly secretive. You weren’t even supposed to know about it in the first place, but Jaemin had let slip some information on it and now you can’t help but think on it.

If you were to try and learn of it yourself, it’s no doubt that you’d find yourself in a world of trouble. Yet, you are the daughter of a physician, surely you have more medical knowledge than them?

Falling onto your better judgement, you return to your quarters. Even if you’re worried about Taeyong, you’re not sure that there’s much you can even do for him at this point. 

When the sun finally drops below the horizon, it seems as if Shinson Temple bursts to life with activity. But the sounds aren’t boisterous, not the gaiety induced ones of the captains rough-housing, these were more ominous. You hear footsteps charge past your room, never seeming to cease as the men run off to an unknown location. 

Despite trying your best to keep out of it, your curiosity overtakes you, amalgamating in you slowly creeping out into the hall and following the sound of the commotion. The sounds take you to the main hall, the door left ajar so you quietly make your way inside.

“To think that Taeyong would’ve…” You can hear Taeil’s voice, a seriousness in it as he comes into view. Kun and the other captains stand around him, each looking to be in a different stage of shock or disbelief.

“What the hell were you all doing?!” Kun shouts out towards the other captains, his grief seeming to take shape in the form of unbridled anger, “I told you to watch out for Taeyong! Was there some fucking part of that that you didn’t understand?”

“You can’t blame us for this,” Yukhei retorts defensively, “Who would’ve thought that he’d drink that shit? He was also in charge of that stuff so how were we supposed to know he had it?”

“If he’d hidden it in a vial we wouldn’t have known,” Jaehyun adds, glancing from Yukhei to Kun, “And suppose that it does treat his arm… Everyone who took it went crazy. It didn’t work.”

The serum… is that what the captains are referring to? You don’t have enough context on the situation to understand fully, but had Taeyong taken whatever it is?

“Taeyong had been trying to improve it,” Yuta interjects, “He’d hoped his arm would heal before it deteriorated too much… Maybe he felt as if there wasn’t any other way. Regardless of that, when he realized his failure, he ignored Yongqin and tried to kill himself.”

“Kill himself?” You gasp aloud, momentarily forgetting that you aren’t supposed to be here. Slowly, all eyes shift to you, Kun’s gaze quickly meeting yours.

“What are you doing here?” He asks and suddenly you’re unable to speak. His gaze holds an iciness that causes your throat to clam up, restricting any words that are trying to form. It’s the same way you felt upon entering Shinson the first time, a mixture of anxiousness, suspicion and animosity. 

“Kun,” Taeil speaks out, his hand moving to rest on the commander’s forearm, “I think it’s time you tell her what’s going on. She is Heo’s daughter, after all.”

Your eyes grow wide at the mention of your father’s name. Why is he being brought up all of a sudden?

“I’m going to make this clear,” the commander stares at Taeil with a grimace, looking back to you after a moment and sighing out lengthily, “The Hwarang don’t need you. There’s a chance that you’ll help us find Heo, but even without you, we’ll find him one way or another. Do anything strange and we’ll have you killed.” Your limbs feel frozen in place as he speaks, you’re able to stutter out an ‘Okay’ before he continues. “I’m going to tell you what��s happening here, but keep in mind that if you tell anyone else about it other than those that are in this room: it’s your own head.”

“Are you… going to kill me?”

“Not yet, but don’t think that means you’re free to run off.”

“We never told you why your father was here in the first place,” Taeil steps in, allowing you to break your gaze with Kun. “He was developing a… treatment of sorts.”

“Like the one Taeyong took?” Words forming on your lips, testing out how shocked you sound. 

The leader of the Hwarang nods solemnly, breathing in deeply before responding, “We first learned of it when one of the Crown’s men brought it to us. They told us it was obtained through trades with merchants in Tang.”

The curiosity of it all, as dreadful it may be, swirls inside of you. Culminating into something you’re not sure you have the words to describe. 

“A foreign drug said to augment a man’s healing and bolster their strength,” Yuta sighs out, “Anyone who drank their fill would, supposedly, be able to fight off a guhin with no issue.” His voice serious, despite having alluded to a mythical beast, “Any of their injuries would heal almost immediately, unless they were decapitated or pierced through the heart.

This all sounds like something your father would’ve told you as a child to fuel your imagination, not something that was feasible now. 

“Yet, that power comes at a price. It spirals whoever drinks it into an unreturnable madness, they seek out human blood to satisfy their hunger instead of food or drink.” Yuta continues, looking at you with a wary gaze, Heo took it upon himself to try it out on some of the Hwarang so that an attempt to perfect the serum could be worked on.

“My father?” You’re not sure how surprised you sound, something within you twinges but it’s probably the knowledge somewhere deep inside that you knew your father is connected to all of this. Yet knowing that he was using his skills to try and work on this… serum, makes a pit begin to form in your stomach. “So that night where you all found me...”

“We keep the men who’ve taken it to a temple just outside of Seorabeol, if they were kept here people would’ve become suspicious,” The explanation doesn’t tell you how you’d come to find them, but you can infer that they’d probably escaped. “As long as they don’t get any blood that stay relatively quiet.” With the way Yuta relays the information, it makes it seem as this is just a nonchalant topic for him, and it may have very well been. But to you, it’s alien but helps you put together a few things you’d been wondering since your arrival here.  

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, a tinge of concern to his voice, “You don’t look great.” He stops himself, scoffing inwardly before continuing, “Of course you’re not, this information would sicken anyone.”

“I think we’ve told her enough,” Kun interjects before Jaehyun can continue, “We need to think about what to do with Taeyong.”

“I guess…” Yukhei frowns, crossing his arms, “But he was practically dead when Jisung took him out of here.”

“This was a new draught of that shit, though,” Kun sounds as if he’s trying to contain himself, to keep his hopefulness on the floor, “we don’t know if the effects are any different from the last batch. And if it’s supposed to do what its meant to then that cut isn’t going to kill him.” His eyes flicker to the leader, “Taeil, can you watch over him? I know Jisung’s taking care of him but he’s just a kid and I don’t think that-” A pause as he catches himself fretting, he gives himself a second to straighten up, “Tonight will tell us if he’s meant to live or die, and whether he’ll be sane or not by the end of it.”

“Of course, isn’t Yongqin with him as well?” Taeil asks before he turns on his heels and heads towards the door.

“He’s guarding the room,” A curt response from Kun before Taeil nods and exits the main hall, the sound of his footsteps dying down after a moment.

“I want you to keep everyone away from the captain’s wing,” Kun looks towards Jaehyun, a frown dancing on his lips, “Especially Gongmyung’s men.”

“I know,” Jaehyun huffs looking to where Taeil had exited.

“Yukhei, go and check on Hwangnyongsa.”

Another order from Kun, Yukhei nods wordlessly and begins to head towards the main exit of the headquarters. As he passes, you see a glint of the same hostility he’d held towards you on the night of your first arrival. It’s tense and suspicious of you, an itch of gooseflesh overcoming you as he walks out into the night.

“Yuta, go to the inner courtyard, if the Kim brothers or their men show up, keep them busy,” And before Yuta’s even left the room, Kun’s gaze settles on you. “I want you to stay with one of the captains.” His concern stems not for the care of your well-being, that much is evident in his gaze, but more to the fact that tonight isn’t a good night to be wandering around alone.

“I’d stay away from Hwangnyongsa, they get rowdy at night,” Jaehyun notes, his teeth biting at his cheek.

You nod, thankful for the suggestion, but even with his warning, you’d be limited in where you could go.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you assert to the remaining men, nodding to yourself that this is probably the safest place you could remain within the compound.

It doesn’t take long for Yuta and Jaehyun to take their leave, heading for their respective locations around the headquarters before you’re left alone with the commander.

The main hall feels suffocating, mostly from Kun’s quietness and the thoughts of what had transpired here merely an hour beforehand. Your gaze shifts from looking out of the main entrance to the commander, his brow furrowing and eyes looking sullen. It’s easy to see that the events of tonight are eating away at him, his concern for his second-in-command utterly gnawing at his very being. His eyes close and he lets out a quiet sigh before speaking again,

“You might think you know who Taeyong is, but this… It’s not really who he is. He’s an intelligent man who is more than just a sword. The colonel sees the full picture rather than what lies duly in front of him.” Another sigh as if he’s reminiscing, “His guidance helped me through a lot more than I’d like to credit, but his words were always more commandeering than his blade. In a way he was more powerful than me, without him, the Hwarang would’ve regressed to the likes of the Wonhwa.” A subtle smile curling on his lips, “He was like my big brother.” Hands balling into fists atop the table, there is a sincerity that drips from his words bitterly.

“He must mean a lot to you,” you say softly, your own hands falling into your lap, your back hitting the back of the chair as you lean.

“It sounds a little childlike when you say it aloud,” the absinthian smile still clinging to him. He sits, probably thinking the worst outcome for his longtime friend, reminiscing on their past and contemplating what it may mean for the future. Kun’s position leaves him unable to divulge this with most others, yet by sharing them with you, he can hold off on the truth for a while longer.

“The only reason we didn’t get rid of that serum is because we thought we could heal his arm with it somehow… Because I thought we could heal him,” the smile fades away, replaced with a grimace. “I should’ve seen this coming.” His own hands fall away from the tabletop and to his sides, a relent in the tension building in his shoulders, “We need Taeyong. We can’t lose him.”

Anguish coming over him due to morality of his friend. It’s hard to watch, and you’re nowhere near close enough to him to offer him substantial comfort or advice.

“Let’s have faith,” quiet words leaving you as you straighten up in your chair, his gaze flickering over to you, “In both his spirit and strength.”

“Yeah… You’re right. All we have now is our faith.”

February 7, 662 – Shinson Temple, Kingdom of Silla The night breaks into dawn long after you’d retired to your room. A clattering of noise and the rise of voices rouse you from slumber and pull you back to the main hall. Upon entering, you find that the captains have gathered, each in conversation with one another. This scene isn’t interrupted until Jisung enters.

“It seems as if the hardest part for him is over,” The youngest nods, a collective ball of tension in the room dissipating instantly.

“How is he?” Jaehyun asks, looking to Jisung.

“Still asleep,” he nods, “he was in and out of consciousness the entire night, but he looks peaceful now.”

“Has he gone crazy like the others?” Yukhei’s question blunt as he blurts it out into the space.

Jisung shakes his head in the negative, “Not seemingly. But we won’t know until he wakes up. But as for now, he looks as he always has.”

Before another captain is able to ask Jisung of Taeyong’s status, the doors open and Gongmyung strides into the room.

“Good morning, everyone,” A cheap smile painted on his face, “How are you?”

You can hear Yukhei let out a soft, “Fuck,” at the sight of him.

Gongmyung scans the faces of the captains after their muffled hellos, “You all look… gloomy.”

“Isn’t it obvious that it’s because we’ve got to see your beautiful face every morning?” Yukhei bites with a snicker.

“What a… cute response,” Gongmyung’s quick to brush away the insult as he turns to the other captains. “Is the reason you all look so down because of what happened last night?”

“Ah, actually,” Taeil begins, fumbling over his words. His gaze hops from captain to captain, looking for someone to relieve him of trying to offer an excuse to Gongmyung.

“Jae,” Yukhei’s elbow finds the older’s side as he whispers, “make something up!”

“You see,” Jaehyun speaks up after a moment, he too, stumbling over his words, “Well… Uh, yesterday…”

“Didn’t you say you used to act for the nobles in your village?” Yongqin scoffs at him quietly, “Be quiet and let someone else do the talking.” You think he’s talking about himself, but instead of speaking up, Yongqin looks to Yuta, who begins speaking almost immediately.

“As you may have heard, an incident occurred last night at the headquarters,” voice plain as he speaks to the Deputy Commander, “We have yet to gain fully knowledge on the situation. If we were to make a statement now, it is a risk of polluting fact with falsities. Later this afternoon I’m sure we’ll be able to provide a much more detailed report.”

“Hmm,” Gongmyung mulls over Yuta’s statement for a moment, “I’ll look forward to hearing all about what happened later this evening, then. For now, I’ll return to my men.” He waves everyone on his way out, a strange smile cutting across his face before he exits.

“That was easier than it should’ve been” Yongqin huffs, watching the door close with a soft slam.

“What do you mean?” You ask, attention turning from the door and to Yongqin.

“Gongmyung isn’t stupid, unfortunately,” Kun frowns and looks to you, “We shouldn’t have let him in here. The only person missing from our ranks is Taeyong, it’s not going to take him long to realize that something’s happened to him.”

The Deputy Commander had most likely suspected what had occurred but decided to not press the issue. Before you can think on it for too long, the door opens once more and Lee Taeyong shuffles in.

A small laugh as he looks to them, his voice sounding a little weak, “Come on, it’s not like I’m some kind of monster.”

Jisung rushes to him, offering assistance to stance but is waved away by the Colonel, “You should be resting, are you okay being up like this?”

“I’m tired… sore… but I suppose that’s a side effect of my new condition,” Taeyong’s brow furrows slightly as he looks down to his hand, “Those who’ve taken the serum have found it difficult to do work in the daylight.” His face is a bit pallid, but with the way he stands and moves, it doesn’t seem like he’s hindered all too much. “I’m no longer human,” the words echoing around the room with a chilling effect. Each and every captain falling silent to them.

“Who cares about what you are?” Taeil speaks up after a moment and steps towards Taeyong with a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood, “All that matters is that you’re alive.”

“How’s your arm? Healed?” Yongqin questions, looking down to the colonel’s once bandaged limb.

“I don’t think I’ve fully recovered yet,” Taeyong notes, flexing his fingers at his side, “It seems to have healed for the most part.”

Despite the disturbance and subsequent chaos of the night prior, it seems like Taeyong’s wish to use his arm again had come true.

“You can’t go out in the sunlight though, right?” Jaehyun asks, voice concerned, and his brow furrowed, “Will you still be able to fight with us?”

Taeyong nods, slowly moving his head as if he’s mulling over a thought he’d been holding in for some time. “I think you should tell everyone I died.”

“What!?” Yukhei shouts out, unable to hold in the burst of confusion. “The fuck are you on about?”

“I should serve in the Corps from now on. It’ll show them, and even more so, us, that success isn’t some far off dream.” Taeyong says, looking to the frazzled captain.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind Taeyong?” Yukhei’s voice shakes with every word, “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Of course, I do,” Taeyong frowns, “The Crown has ordered us to keep the serum a secret, and if I,” a small hum as he postulates his next word, “die, that secret remains so. Researching in secret will give me more ability to track side effects and even give me the potential to remove them. What reason do we have for me not to if we’re going to use it?”

The movements of the captains easily show that they’re against Taeyong’s idea, although no one but Yukhei has said anything against it. None of them wish to banish their friend to a life of hiding and secrecy.

“We were given this task by the late King himself, carried on by his son…” Taeil trails off, “This may be our only choice.”  

“This is what you asked for, isn’t it Taeyong?” Yongqin shoots him a look, “You’ve always been the type to take things into your own hands so I can’t fault you for that.”

“Sometimes I think you know me too well,” the colonel chuckles.

Kun, who’s stayed silent for a majority of the conversation, scoffs at the remark. “This means moving the Hwarang to a new location can’t wait any longer. If we’re going to hide Taeyong from Gongmyung and his crowd, Shinson wouldn’t allow us to do that easily.”

“You’re right,” Yuta affirms, “If the Colonel intends to begin researching again, then we’ll have to expedite our move.”

A nod from the commander as he turns to face the captains in full, “Even though none of you slept well, we need to get to work.” He looks to you, “You should get some rest, I know you didn’t sleep well either.”

You want to stay and help them, but with how fatigued you are from staying up so late you can only nod your head at him before quickly shuffling back to your room.

The same thoughts that had plagued you last night as you tried to fall asleep plague you as you now lie on your bedding. Your father’s work… Are you safe under their pretext of safety still? Thoughts still buzzing around your head as you eventually find yourself drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

June 4th, 662 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla Bulguksa Temple has proven a better headquarters than that of Shinson Temple, you’d come to this conclusion in the subsequent weeks of your arrival in March of this year. There’s much more room for the men to freely roam and train, and the view was even more astonishing than the last. The only downfall is the longer trek to the city of Seorabeol itself. On some days you still find yourself lost on the winding paths to the temple, but for the most part you can guide yourself around with little assistance from the monks who reside there.

On this particular day, you find yourself wandering the seemingly endless grounds for the Hwarang’s colonel. When you think you spot him standing in one of the shaded courtyards of the temple’s grounds you shout out to him.

“There you are, Taeyong,” You call out, a tray held tightly in your grasp. The sun hangs in the sky above you, a slight burn beginning to burgeon on your clothed shoulders as you approach. “I’ve brought you your lunch.”

“Oh, hello,” he turns to you with a smile and beckons you closer, “Thank you.” A bird chirps in the branches of the tree above him, you look up to find the small creature before returning your gaze to him. You offer him a smile before extending out the tray to him.

“It’s really gotten warm lately, hasn’t it?” You note, stepping into the shade once he’d taken the tray. Fingers rising to your shoulders to feel the heat of the sun that had soaked into the fabric.

“It has,” he nods, moving to set the tray down on a stump beside him, “Although the increased sunshine has been more disagreeable than the warmth.”

“Ah, is it?” The sun doesn’t feel but so harsh on you, but the heat that swells around the compound has been making you sweat since the sun broke over the horizon. Yet, to Taeyong his disposition probably found the light unbearable from his days in the shadows.

Sometimes it feels unreal to call Taeyong dead, the night where he’d taken that serum to transform him into a creature lustful for blood feeling more so like a dream whenever you recall it. As he stands before you now, you can hardly imagine it.

A light breeze wafts through the greenery around you, parting enough leaves in the tree from a few beams of sunlight to fall onto Taeyong. For a moment, his hair turns a silvery white and his eyes seem to turn a deep crimson.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, unsure if it were a trick of the light or your own imagination.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, his hair now normal and his eyes once again brown. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I know I’m not at that point yet.” Maybe you had imagined it.

June 6th, 662 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla Jaemin had asked you to accompany him on his rounds this morning with an excitedness in his voice that would’ve been hard to turn down. So, now you find yourself briskly walking with him through the crowded streets, the blues of his robes shining brilliantly in the midday sky.

“It’s been a while since you’ve asked me to come on patrol with you,” You note as you pass a vendor selling sickeningly sweet treats.

“I know, right? Hanseong kept me pretty busy.” He sighs out, having only just returned from his trip to the northern city just a few weeks ago. “Yukhei and Jaehyun didn’t mess with you when I was gone, did they? How was it when I was away?”

“Everything was fine, and they didn’t bother me,” You assure him with a small smile.

“That’s good,” He returns the smile as you continue to walk. “Any updates on Heo though? Did you find any leads?”

“No,” the smile from your lips quickly leaving.

“I see…” His own smile quickly disappearing as he watches you, “I stopped by his place with the information you gave me but… It didn’t seem as if anyone had returned.” The somberness of the male begins to transfer to you, a feeling of hopelessness beginning to overtake you momentarily.

“Thank you for taking the time to check for me, I know Toehwa-hyeon isn’t on the direct path back.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” He waves you off, “The fact that you can’t freely come and go as you please is completely the Hwarang’s faul—”

“Jaemin?” You question as he’d stopped himself mid-sentence. He’d looked glum ever since his return from Hanseong. “How about you, though? I know it’s been a while since you’ve been back in Seorabeol.”

“I do feel like the city’s changed, the people too,” he muses, glancing to the faces that pass by. There’s a solemness to his tone that wasn’t typically there in conversations you’d had with him prior, had something happened in Hanseong? Before you can question him on it, his head jerks to look above the crowd, standing on his toes and waving to someone across the way.

“Find anything over there, Yongqin?!” He shouts out above the clamor of the street.

“Nope,” the older replies as he saunters over, “Nothing out of order here.” Yongqin is out for patrol too, but his route takes him through a different path through the city. “Normal for now, at least. Things will change once the king comes back from his family villa. Rumor has it that he’s going to address the Hwarang.”

“Is he really?” You question, brow raising in surprise.

“Yep, it’s got Taeil all flustered,” Yongqin chuckles, “Our dear leader really respects the Crown, as well all have to, I guess.”

“I see,” you nod, “I hope it actually happens, then, right, Jaemin?”

Jaemin looks lost in thought before he hears his name, stumbling out his words as he responds, “Ah, yeah, right.”

You look to Yongqin to see if he’s caught on to the younger’s oddness. But he’s stifling his mouth with his hand, coughing into it.

“Are you alright?” You question him as his hand falls away from his mouth.

“I’m okay,” he waves you off, “I probably just caught a cold from patrolling late one night or something.”

“Well, try to take care of yourself,” a sigh leaving you. As strong and intelligent as the men were, they hardly ever took care of their basic needs, “I have some cold medicine back at the headquarters, I’ll give you some.”

“Thanks,” Yongqin smiles, “I guess it is good to have you around at times.” Something catches his attention, and he breaks his gaze away from you and into the crowds of the street.

“Is something wrong?”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” A voice rings out and you follow it to see a man holding the wrist of a woman trying to get away from him.

“Let go of me!” She cries out, trying to pull herself away from his grip.

“We’re soldiers of this great kingdom, fighting hard every day to kick these loyalists’ asses! You owe us some drinks, and maybe even a little company.” The man says, and it’s then you realize it isn’t just him, but two other presumed soldiers are harassing this woman.

“Are you guys seeing this?” You question to the two captains.

“Yeah,” Jaemin frowns, “Stay here.”

Yet, before Jaemin could step forward, Yongqin seems to be several steps ahead, reaching the group already.

“Soldiers don’t seem to be what they used to,” he tuts, “throwing that rank aloud doesn’t mean you’re owed anything.” The crowds coming to watch the scene shuffle away from Yongqin as he hovers his hand on his blade, glaring at the men. As the harassers catch the blues of the Hwarang’s robes they seem to stiffen.

“You’re a Hwarang, aren’t you?” One of them asks, furrowing their brow.

“And you must be the smartest one out of these men,” Yongqin’s tone is condescending as his hand now rests on the hilt of his sword. “Now, what’s it going to be?” A snide, predatory smile as he grips the hilt, no happiness deriving from the grin as the soldier’s faces pale.

“Why don’t you leave us alone? This doesn’t involve you.” The one presumed to be their ringleader remarks.

“If you really want to get out of here unscathed, you should probably follow your own advice,” Jaemin scoffs, now saddling up beside Yongqin.

The sight of two Hwarang seems enough to deter the men from their endeavor. Their faces draining of color before they scamper off like scolded dogs.

“If they’re just gonna run off like that when they see us, they shouldn’t have tried to start anything in the first place,” Jaemin sighs, watching them disappear into the crowds.

“Aren’t you going to go after them?” You ask, looking to them as you walk over.

“And charge them with what?” Yongqin questions, retracting his hand away from his blade and crossing his arms, “Didn’t think you were the iron fist kind of person.”

Before you can protest that that’s not what you meant, the woman whom the two Hwarang had intervened for speaks up, “Thank you for saving me.” She gives both Yongqin and Jaemin a bow, more grace in her movements than you could ever hope to have. Even if you dressed like a girl, you’re not sure you’d even come close.

Yongqin’s hand lands on your shoulder before you’re able to feel any sorrier for yourself. “Yongqin?” You question as he pulls you forward to stand next to the girl.

“Just go with it,” he says and steps away from the two of you, his hand under his chin as he looks over both of you. You smile softly at the girl, embarrassed as to what the Hwarang is making you do. She returns the smile, beautiful on the outside but there is something almost… strange about it.

“Just as I thought,” Yongqin nods, “They look just like each other.”

And then it hits you, the girl standing before you looks just as you do whenever you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrors dotting the headquarters.

“Really?” Jaemin questions, tilting his head at the two of you, “I don’t think they look alike at all, Li.”

“Dress ‘em up like a girl and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” Yongqin insists.

“Captain Li…” The woman says, looking to you, “She seems troubled.”

She? Had the woman caught on to you so soon? Stuck in your thoughts she smiles at you once more, “I want to thank all of your properly, but I’m afraid that I’m in the middle of something important. My name is Hak Ahro, I hope I’ll be able to repay you soon, Captain Li.”

And with that she too disappears like a wisp into the crowds of Seorabeol, the strangeness of her presence lingering long after she’s left.

“It looks like she likes you, Yongqin!” Jaemin nudges the elder with his elbow.

“Is that really what you think, Jaemin?” The older laughs, “You’ve got a long way to go before you’re at Yukhei’s prowess levels.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Jaemin shouts at the other, clearly offended by the remark.

Their bickering fades away as you look to a puddle on the ground left from the rain the night prior. Looking into it now, you see the resemblance that you and that woman had had. “Ahro…” You hum as a gust of wind causes the water to ripple and distort your figure.

“Let’s get going!” Jaemin calls, now further down the street as he’d begun walking back to Bulguksa.

“Coming!” You shout out to him as you look up from the puddle and begin to chase after him.

June 11th, 662 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla The main hall of this temple is open enough so that most, if not all, of the Seorabeol Hwarang can fit inside of it with ample room to spare. It’s a little strange to see all of these face in one place, seeing as at Shinson, only the captains and a few other members took priority of occupying the main hall. Yet, as Moon Taeil stands proudly in front of his men, any thoughts of the prior location escape your mind.

“By now it’s probably not our best kept secret, but King Munmu has asked us to act as his guard as he returns from his family’s villa to Banweolseong.” Taeil beams excitedly as the hall begins to erupt in chatter.

“Guard him?” Yukhei looks shocked as he turns towards Jaehyun, “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” the elder shakes his head in disbelief, “I thought we were just going to get the usual ‘Keep up the good work’ spiel.”

“Our work at Wonweol and Ongsan must’ve gotten through to them,” Kun nods, a hidden smile pulling at his lips.

“The leadership of Silla resting on us,” Yongqin muses almost gleefully, “That’s big.”

“Exactly right,” Kun agrees, “We’ve got to do beyond our best for this.”

On the opposite end of the hall, you can hear Suh Kangjoon speak up, “Guarding the king… That’s quite the promotion for us.”

“It truly is,” Gongmyung notes with a sigh, “If only Taeyong were alive to see it. He would’ve been overjoyed.” Another lamenting breath tiptoeing on faux sympathy, “To have lost such an ally…”

Kim Gongmyung and all of his followers had been told of the colonel’s passing. Actually, the incident surrounding Taeyong’s transformation had been hidden, only a few of the Hwarang knowing the reality of the situation.

“I think doing our best to serve and protect the king is what Taeyong would’ve wanted,” Taeil interjects himself into their conversation.

“Yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course. This is an excellent opportunity for us to gain favor with the masses.”

“We ought to assign roles at this point. I’d like Kun, Yongqin, and myself to—” Taeil begins before being cut off my Kun.

“Sorry Moon, but do you think Li can sit this one out?” The commander’s arms cross over his chest as he glances towards the third party.

“Why’s that?” Taeil questions, confusion sweeping his features.  

“His cold hasn’t recovered fully. And despite me telling him to take care of himself, he neglects to do so,” He sighs out, looking back towards Taeil.

“Is this true, Yongqin?” Taeil looks to the swordsman, “Are you alright?”

“Qian’s just babying me again,” Yongqin says with a dismissive gesture, “I think I’m alright.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Kun frowns, “You nearly coughed up a lung earlier.”

“Are you trying to sell me medicine?” He scoffs, crossing his arms with a frown, “There’s no way in hell I’m taking what your mother’s doctor prescribed anymore. It tastes like persimmons.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to—” a frustrated grunt from the commander, “Just do what I say, for once.”

You recall giving Yongqin medicine some time ago after he’d been coughing while out on patrol, had it not helped him? It could be dust particles in the air, you know that the buildup of dust in the temple caused you to sneeze incessantly some mornings.

From the corner of your periphery, you see someone raise their hand.

“Is something wrong, Jaemin?” Taeil asks, having seen the younger calling for attention.

“I’m uh, I’m not feeling so great either,” Jaemin frowns, his eyes looking panicked.

“You too?” Taeil hums in defeat, “You should try and take care of yourself. I was hoping we could all go and guard the king.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin bows his head in apology.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Your health comes first, always!” Taeil tries to brighten his tone to detract from the now somber mood. “I’m sure we’ll have another chance to do something great together!”

Kun and Taeil continue discussing the precession that’s to take place, when suddenly, the commander turns to you.

“What’re you going to do?” Kun asks, an eyebrow raised as he poses the question.

“What do you mean?” You say as you look to him, “Are you asking if I want to go with you?”

“I am,” He nods and after a moment of silence asks, “Are you?”

“Is that really, okay?”

“Of course, it is!” Taeil smiles, “We won’t mind. Besides, you’re practically one of us, I’d love for you to accompany us.”

Another moment of hesitation before Yongqin laughs aloud, “Why don’t you go? It seems a lot safer than what happened at Wonweol and Ongsan.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods, “I can’t imagine any loyalists would try to do anything when the king will be so heavily guarded.”

“I’ll go, then,” you nod firmly towards the commander.

“Alright,” Kun nods back with a small smile, “I thought we’d give you the job of running messages when needed. It’s not going to be the easiest job but I figure you can do it.”

Later that day you and the able captains and Hwarang left Seorabeol. Traveling about an hour or two outside of the city as you wait for the king’s caravan to greet you in a small village that you can’t remember the name of. You never actually saw the king, but you follow the Hwarang back to Seorabeol, arriving at the gates of the city just as the sun dips below the horizon. The walk through the city is brisk, and in no time the caravan disbands and you and a few other Hwarang stand outside the palace gates. By now, Taeil, Yukhei and Gongmyung are probably greeting officials and other important members of the king’s retinue.

You shift on your feet for a moment, the sole aching slightly from the trek earlier, but you have a job to do. Kun had tasked you to tell the Hwarang when to change their shift and to carry any important messages when needed. It’s something of a glorified page position, but it’s not an entirely useless role… probably.

“You’re the messenger?” A voice says as you approach them, “This isn’t a vacation, you know.”

“I’m not here to relax, Doyoung,” you sigh as you stand before him.

“Is that right? Then why did we take someone here who can’t even use a sword?” Doyoung scoffs, the light from a nearby brazier flickering across the sneer on his face.

“I’m here to do what I can,” You state firmly before beginning to relay your message. “The Chief is currently paying his respects to members of the court, everyone else should continue guarding.”

“Message understood,” he says flippantly, causing you to look confused with how he didn’t retort on it. “What? Surprised I actually listened to you?”

“Oh no—I just—”

“It’s a job,” He frowns, “It’s not personal. Now you’ve delivered your message, get going.”

You don’t ever speak much to Doyoung, mostly on account of his brother being Gongmyung, but maybe he’s more responsible than you thought him to be.

After he shoos you away, you continue to make your rounds, delivering messages to the Hwarang stationed around the castle. They’re easy to spot, wearing their white robes instead of their normal blues. They seem laxer now, maybe because the loyalists had been driven out of the capital for the most part, the Baekje revivalists fleeing back to the territory of the old kingdom.

After he shoos you away, you continue to make your rounds, delivering messages to the Hwarang stationed around the castle. They’re easy to spot, wearing their white robes instead of their normal blues. They seem laxer now, maybe because the loyalists had been driven out of the capital for the most part, the Baekje revivalists fleeing back to the territory of the old kingdom.

As you think that, and begin to approach another member of the Hwarang some distance away, your blood runs cold. A prick of gooseflesh running along your spine as your heartbeat reaches your ears. You can taste the blood in the air, looking around the trees encasing the palace and finding nothing. It’s not until you look at the castle walls and the walkway situated on top of it, does your stomach sink. Three figures jump down from the wall, landing on the dirt ground with a cloud of gritty dust.

“You’ve found us, then,” A familiar voice sighs out as they turn to you, stating your name somewhat coolly. The figure, flanked by two others, is haloed in the moonlight as you squint your eyes to try and get a better look at his face. “Not too slow.” Their piercing gaze fires into you, the name ‘Lee Donghyuck’ battering through your mind as you remember the distinctive voice and way he carries himself. The last you’d seen him had been at Ongsan, and you face him now with much more dread than you’d had that day.

The two figures beside him must be Xiao Dejun and Dong Sicheng, the people whom other Hwarang had encountered during the battle at the fortress. You know they have ties with the inner court and had tried to stop the Hwarang’s efforts during the battle at Wonweol and Ongsan.

“Why are you here?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You mean ‘how’ did we get here, don’t you?” the one on Donghyuck’s left, questions. “Man made obstacles are meaningless to a Demon.”

“We’re here for only one reason: you.” The other speaks up, crossing his arms.

“Me?” You take a step back, the pounding of your heart unrelenting as you stare at them. “I don’t understand.” How do they know your name? “What do you mean by Demon? Is this some kind of joke?”

Donghyuck scoffs, “You of all people are asking that? Maybe you’re the one who’s joking.” He steps forward, toward you, the shadows seeming to cling to his robes as he walks.

When the man you now presume to be Dejun speaks, it’s soft, almost caring in a way, “When you’re injured, do you heal quickly?” Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, “You heal faster than anyone around you, right?”

This knowledge about you is unknown to almost everyone except for you and your father… how do they know this? You think to the last time that you saw Donghyuck, he’d made a similar note on the cut he’d given you on your cheek.

You’re about to try and pull yourself together to defend yourself from the accusations when the other man, Sicheng speaks up. “Wouldn’t it be better to just give her a demonstration?” His hand begins to reach for the quiver on his back before Donghyuck speaks up.

“Sicheng, do you really think I’d let you hurt a female Demon?” His voice slightly agitated as he glances to the other.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Lee.” He scoffs, “She’s being stubborn, what do you suggest we do?”

Donghyuck breaks his glare, only for his eyes to settle on the blade at your hip. “Her family’s name is a Demon’s; she carries the Demon of Taebaeksan’s right blade. Isn’t that enough evidence?”

“My… name?” What’s wrong with ‘Heo’? His narrative, largely unknown to you, is cause enough for you to continue to panic.

“Then again, it’s not like we need your permission to kidnap you,” Donghyuck muses, looking at you with a frown, “Come with us or we’ll have to take you instead.” His hand outstretches towards you like a lure trying to bait in a fish. You step back, away from him, when you feel two figures brush past you.

“Woah there,” Jaehyun says as he stops, feet hitting the ground as his hand reaches for and pulls out his sword, “This really isn’t the place to try and pick up a woman.”

“You again?” Donghyuck asks as he steps back, a sneer on his lips, “For a noble you really do like to keep it simple.”

“The same could be said to you,” Yuta says to him, also reaching for his blade. He looks back to you, “When we heard you hadn’t given your messages out on time, we came to look for you.”

You nod and step back once more, your legs becoming unsteady as if the adrenaline that had been coursing through you suddenly left you at once. A hand catches you before you fall, pulling you further away from the skirmish.

“Stay back here,” Kun says sternly, looking towards the trio of assailants. His hand guides you to his side before he lets go of you, reaching for his blade. “I thought you’d be here for the king,” He says to Donghyuck, “What do you want with her?”

“I don’t have any interest in you or this kingdom right now,” Donghyuck says, looking past the commander and at you, “This matter only concerns us Demons.”

“Demons?” Kun scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the foe. He seems confused by the statement, perhaps hoping there’d be a more coherent and understandable reason for Donghyuck’s presence.

“Haven’t seen you since Ongsan,” Sicheng notes, looking over to Jaehyun and Yuta.

“Looks like it’s fate,” Jaehyun huffs out, “not that I’m particularly happy about it.”

“I don’t feel great about this reunion either,” Yuta sighs and pulls out his sword, Jaehyun following suit.

The tension lays thick in the air, settling into your throat so that you find it hard to speak or breathe. With the slightest movement that could set them off, you reflexively reach for the blade at your hip so that should anything arise, you’ll be ready.

“Don’t worry about them,” A voice from behind you speaks up. Cloaked in the shadows from the nearby forest, Minhyuck slowly approaches you. “Kun’s asked me to escort you back to headquarters.”

“Are you telling me to run?” You ask, gaze shifting from Minhyuck to Kun, who’s still locked eyes with Donghyuck.

“I am,” Minhyuck nods, reaching out so that you might take his hand, “Even if you stay there’s little you can do.”

You shake your head, his hand falling away back to his side, “I’m going to stay.”

“What do you think you’ll be able to do here?” Minhyung doesn’t sound condescending, just confused as to why you’d wish to stay and endanger yourself further.

You think to what the three intruders had said to you prior, the want to know more about what they’d called you sought itself out with more priority than your own safety at the moment.

“You have a reason, I see.” The Hwarang shakes his head, not waiting for a response as he sees the conviction already dead-set in your gaze. “I can admire that. But I do have my orders. You may want to stay because you want to do what you believe is right, but I have to do the same.” His hand outstretches towards you once more, a pleading look in his eye as he quietly asks for you to go with him.

Before his fingers are able to brush against the linen of your robes, an arrow whizzes by, buzzing before it lands with a solid ‘thunk’ in a tree behind Minhyung. Gaze travelling back to where it had been fired, you find Sicheng lowering his bow, his hand still hovering over his quiver should he need to take another shot.

“She said she wanted to stay,” Sicheng sighs grabbing another arrow before loosely notching it, “You have to learn to respect a woman’s wishes.”

Jaehyun lurches forward with his sword in retaliation for the attack on his fellow Hwarang, hoping to land a blow somewhere on Sicheng’s abdomen. The strike though, is easily dodged by the bowman, who merely steps aside and watches as Jaehyun’s feet falter as he moves to sling his bow over his shoulder and reach for the sword at his hip.

“Sicheng’s temper is going to get him in trouble one day,” you hear Dejun note with a frown as he witnesses the event.

“Evidently so,” Yuta agrees, sword still clenched in his fist, “You don’t seem like you’re going to stop him, though.” He then moves to strike the unarmed foe, swinging his sword in a downward motion to try and disrupt the lax stance Dejun was in.

“And here I was,” a clanging of metal as Dejun seems to unsheathe his sword in a blink of an eye and move it upwards to counter Yuta’s blow, “thinking we could just talk this through!”

“Who the hell are these guys?” Kun says through grit teeth as you hover your hand over your blade once more.

You reach for the blade at your hip, wrapping your fingers around the hilt as you look to Donghyuck. Both Dejun and Sicheng had displayed superhuman levels of skills; something that still leaves you a bit awestruck. Your swordsmanship can’t be of much hep to your friends, but you need to distract the enemy even for a fraction of a second to let them have their chance.

As he hears you draw your blade, Kun shouts, “Get out of here, you idiot! He’ll tear you apart!” His scream makes you second guess yourself and you sheathe your sword, “Minhyung, keep her out of this! Don’t let her get any closer!”

“You mistake me for the shit I scrape from my shoes,” Donghyuck interrupts, “I give you the honor of fighting me, and you talk… Very well.” The man raises his blade to Kun once more, “I’ll show you who truly is in control, so you can shut your mouth for good.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kun huffs as he looks back to Donghyuck. “I still owe you one for taking out my men at Ongsan.”

“Hmph, I don’t keep track of each and every insect I squash.”

The rivalry sparks between them, a fire igniting in their gazes before Kun takes the first step. They run towards each other, their swords clanging together and ringing out through the nighttime sky. Blades screaming against one another as they’re pulled apart by the respective opponent, Kun seeks to swing again only to be parried by Donghyuck with ease.

“What the hell are you?” Kun asks as the two part once more, his breathing heaving as it seems as if he’d thrown his all into his last strike.

“Haven’t I already said what I was? A Demon,” Donghyuck frowns, barely looking scathed by the short skirmish, “but not just me, or them, but her too.” His gaze flickers over to you for a moment before looking back to Kun. “We’ve come to relinquish you of watching over her.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Kun snorts before tightening his grip on his blade. This time, it’s Donghyuck who strikes out first, their blades greeting each other with a shuddered clangor. They exchange a few more blows, a strand of Donghyuck’s hair edging too close to Kun’s blade and quickly getting cut away. The cut strands flutter to the ground and settle by his feet. Instead of looking scared at how close a blade had come to his body, Donghyuck shows what seems to be the tiniest bit of respect before lowering his sword.

Kun, seeing his opposition falter, lowers his blade as well, taking a step back. Around them, you see that Yuta, Dejun, Jaehyun and Sicheng have stopped fighting as well.

“Fighting like this is going to get us nowhere,” Dejun frowns and looks over to Donghyuck, “We’ll only attract more people.”

“I can’t help but feel that that’s targeted at him,” Sicheng bites, “I know when to stop, the only one here who’s got an issue with that is—” His gaze trails towards Donghyuck as he speaks, biting back a retort.

A deep, almost exasperated sigh from Donghyuck, “We don’t have to stay. We’ve only come to verify that the lead was correct.”

“Do you think we’ll just let you walk away?” Yuta questions, his sword still raised towards the trio.

“You three might survive,” Donghyuck nods, moving to sheath his sword, “but how many of your men will we have to kill before we escape? Are their lives that expendable?” Kun, Yuta and Jaehyun remain angrily silent, knowing full well they can’t accept that risk. Donghyuck smiles at them, he and the two others beginning to make their way to the forest’s edge, but before they disappear completely, their leader turns and says one last thing to you.

“I will be back for you.” Not wanting to meet his gaze your eyes travel to the embroidered yellow azaleas on his robes before they vanish in the denseness of the forest.

The words whip through you like an icy chill, curling around your stomach with a fear you haven’t felt since you were a child.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks after he’s sheathed his sword and takes a few steps towards you.

“I’m… alright,” you nod weakly, clenching your fists so they won’t shake.

“You’re bad at lying,” he laughs lightly, just wait here for a bit, we’ll have some other men take a few rounds and make sure those three don’t come back.”

“Thank you,” trying to sound as appreciative as you can, you look from Jaehyun to Kun, who continues to stare into the darkness of the woods as if to try and spot the three figures.

“Do you have any idea why they came after you?” He questions after a moment, locking eyes with you as if to probe your mind.

“I’m not sure…” you relent, not knowing whether Donghyuck’s words were accurate or not. Were you really what he said, a Demon?

June 20th, 662 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla The incident on the night of the eleventh never comes to the attention of any other members of the Hwarang, save for the commander’s most trusted captains. In lieu of that, life at Bulguksa remains relatively unchanged, the usual grumblings from Gongmyung and his crowd continue as usual and the captain’s antics remain unbothered.

On this balmy morning, you walk through the halls, coming upon a line of Hwarang gaily chatting among themselves as they wait. Suddenly a door opens from the beginning of the line and Gongmyung comes racing out towards your direction.

“Never have I felt so violated,” He huffs exasperatedly, coming towards you. “This is absolutely horrendous!”

“Is something wrong, Gongmyung?” You ask with a tilt of your head, wondering what has the Deputy Commander in such a tizzy.

“Everything!” He pants out, a thin line of panicked sweat trailing down the side of his face, “Why am I meant to disrobe in that room of utter brutes!?”

His sentence making you furrow your brow, what exactly is going on?

“Someone who calls themself a physician who Taeil met while conversing with the King’s council arrived today,” the Deputy Commander does his best to straighten his robes and adjust his long strands of hair that had gone askew. “He’s holding physical examinations.” With a frown he nods his head towards the door he’d raced out of moments prior, “That monster said I should take my clothes off in front of near strangers! When I refused, he tried to take them off of me himself! And the other captains just stood there! Without doing anything!”

Seeing as your particular… situation might not be the best for physical examination in a group full of men, you think about returning to your room before you ask, “What’s the doctor’s name?”

“I think it was Namekawa Yasuo, some man from Yamato,” Gongmyung huffs indignantly.

“Doctor Namekawa!” You nearly jump at the familiar name.

The other takes a step back in surprise, “Do you know him or something?”

When you’d arrived in Seorabeol with your father’s letter and a few fragments of some from your father’s collection, his name had been among the signatures. It was your intention upon arrival to seek him out, your father had always called him a trustworthy man. Once in Seorabeol, you found that he’d been away on some patient’s request, and after that you’d quickly gotten swept up into the world of the Hwarang.

“I’ve got to go!” You brush away his question and barrel past him towards the door he’d exited from.

“You’re going in there willingly?” Gongmyung calls out from behind you, shaking his head in disgust.

Almost immediately when you open the door you wish you hadn’t.

“Alright, next,” the man you presume to be Dr. Namekawa calls out, motioning forward a Hwarang. A nearly fully disrobed Hwarang.

“My turn!” Yukhei shouts and steps forward, only wearing the pants worn underneath of his Hwarang robes. “You’re looking at years of training right here,” he laughs almost comically as he approaches the doctor’s station.

“I think you’re fine, Wong,” Jaemin scoffs, in a similar state of undress as Yukhei, “it’s your head he should be looking at.”

“Are you asking me to beat the shit out of you?” Yukhei turns to look at the younger, a grin split across his face.

Dr. Namekawa rolls his eyes at him before speaking, “Wong Yukhei, you’re fine. Next!”

“Hold on!” Yukhei says, taking a step closer to the doctor and flexing his arm, “You’ve gotta make sure I’m in prime condition!”

“As healthy as a horse,” Namekawa reels, sitting back in his seat, “I’ve seen more than enough, thank you.”

“You’re holding up the line, Wong,” Jaehyun calls out, and you spot Yuta standing next to him, both with unamused expressions on their face. “For the love of— please get moving.”

“I just don’t think he’s had enough time to fully make sure I’m okay!” Yukhei complains, “I’m trying to make sure I can bulk up more!”

“This is supposed to be about finding medical issues, not boasting,” Yuta sighs, his arms crossed over his chest, “Move.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock, it’s now easy to see why Gongmyung had made such a haste retreat. Shaking your head, you pull yourself from the room and back into the hallway, feeling a creeping heat of embarrassment rise up your neck.

“What are you doing here?” The Hwarang who’s first in line questions, “Is something wrong?”

“Oh!” Turning, you see Minhyung gazing at you perplexedly. “Hi, I heard Doctor Namekawa was here.”

“Ah, so you want to speak to him?” A tilt of his head. “I’ve been briefed on your situation, so I understand what you’re trying to do… But I’m not sure that this is the way to go about it. I’m sure he can speak to you once the physicals are complete.”

You nod, “I just think they might take a while, some of the captains…”

“I’m aware,” he laughs, “if you want me to, I can try to get things moving a little faster.”

“Would you?” Eyes widening, “I’d be thankful if you could.”

“Of course,” the smile still lingering on his lips, “Just leave it to me.” With that he walks into the room and towards the doctor, “Excuse me, Doctor Namekawa? Please let me look after those whose symptoms are minor, I’m sure you could use a break?”

You stand in the doorway, unable to hear his response, so you step back into the hallway and wait for the doctor to exit. Namekawa Yasuo leaves the room a few moments later, his attention turning to you when you call out to him.

Namekawa’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, inspecting you as if you were one of his patients. “I need to fetch some medicine from my things, would you mind giving me a hand?” He questions, his gaze softening once you nod your head.

On the way towards his things, the two of you walk through one of the courtyards and come across Moon Taeil walking towards you. He nods at the doctor before glancing to you, “I see you’ve found her already.”

“Thanks to you,” Namekawa nods with a smile at the leader.

Your brow furrows as you search both of their expressions before the doctor speaks up once more, “I came to Bulguksa to see you. Taeil told me that Heo’s daughter was staying with the Hwarang.”

“I see,” you realize, your eyes widening as you look towards Taeil.

“I knew that Namekawa and Heo know each other,” Taeil smiles softly, “So I thought that maybe the doctor knew of his friend’s whereabouts.”

Even if the Hwarang wanted to find your father for reasons other than yours, this slight clue was still causation enough for you to feel happy.

“Thank you,” a bow to Taeil and one to Namekawa, “both of you.”

Namekawa then goes on to say how you’d left just before he arrived at your father’s clinic in Toehwa-hyeon when you’d gone off to Seorabeol. He’d received the letter you sent but once arriving had no idea of where you’d gone or how to find you.

“I apologize for not seeking you out sooner,” he sounds remorseful, “It must’ve been difficult. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

“About my father…” the words leave you and Namekawa’s face turns grim, you already feel as if you know the answer.

“Unfortunately,” he says once your words have trailed off, “I do not know where your father is residing.”

“Oh,” utter defeat lamenting in your voice as you speak the singular word. You almost feel bad now for feeling so hopeful that Namekawa would have some earth-shattering news about the whereabouts of your father.

“I hear, though,” Namekawa coughs into his hand to clear his throat, “that you’ve become involved with the treatment… You do know what I’m referring to, right?”

“Are you able to explain it anymore?” You’d learned of the serum, seen what it had done to those who’d taken it. But why, why is your father involved with it? “I want to know what my father was experimenting for.”

“Heo was working under Crown orders with the Hwarang to create what are called ‘Furies’,” Namekawa’s voice is low as he speaks, gravelly with a seriousness that permeates into you. “Furies are humans with near supernatural strength and speed. They heal incredibly quickly as well.”

“Furies?” The word lingers familiarly on your tongue, it takes a moment, but you realize you’d heard the word before. Jaemin had tried to explain to you what they are on the night that Taeyong had been injured last year.

“The contents of the serum are called pimul,” Namekawa crosses his arm, tone still low, “in Tang they call it ‘al iksir’ and in Yamato it’s ‘ochimizu’. It’s meant to grant immortality.”

These words sound like some sort of fantastical fairytale than what’s meant to be real life. Yet, the seriousness of the doctor assures you that it isn’t a sick joke.

“I’ve heard of its healing and strength giving properties,” you nod, “but doesn’t it cause the drinker to go mad?” Recalling the night you had stumbled into Seorabeol and the nobles who’d been attacked by the rouge Hwarang furies causes you to shudder. “And even if that doesn’t drive you insane, the smell of blood can set you off too…”

A heaving sigh as Namekawa nods solemnly, moving then to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “So you’re aware of that as well…”

“Why was my father doing this?” You plead more than ask, trying to search the depths of your mind to reason with yourself and come to a believable situation that would’ve caused Heo Jinsang to work with such a vile creation.

“That may have been why he left,” Namekawa suggests softly, “His morals would no longer allow him to work on such a thing.”

“And yet we were given the pimul by the Crown to help strengthen the Hwarang…” Taeil frowns and looks towards the sidewalk.

“It was an experiment,” Namekawa shakes his head, “and it failed. It’s probably best to leave it behind, I’m sure the Crown has abandoned its ambition with it as well.”

The leader looks up and frowns at the doctor, probably unhappy to hear that Namekawa would question the Crown’s once official decision.

“You’ve seen what it’s done to your men,” Namekawa insists, “It’s inhumane and you know it better than I do.”

Taeil lets out a huff of air and then falls silent. You know that he knows how detrimental it is to his men, painfully so. Yet, the pimul was given to him on official orders and a secret request from the former King.

“I understand that you’re one of the King’s doctors, yet…” A voice from behind after a moment of silence. Your eyes widen at the sight of Taeyong in the daylight, knowing that the sun’s rays have an adverse effect on him. “You’re not a member of the Hwarang, you have no right to object to our methods.” His face paling in the light, lost of all color, almost as if he were a walking corpse.

“Are you okay walking around like this?” You ask him quietly, your voice teetering on worry and a whisper.

“You look pale, Taeyong,” Taeil frowns at the colonel, “You should be resting.”

“Don’t mind me,” Taeyong shakes his head and then turns to the doctor. “We use the serum effectively and at our own discretion.” His gaze hardens when they lock eyes, his voice becoming gravely serious, almost as if he’s been offended.

“It’s far too dangerous to—” Namekawa begins before being interrupted by Taeyong.

“We have and will continue to work on Heo’s research.” His voice, behind the veneer of quiet anger, sounds weakened. “I am living proof of its effectiveness.”

“You may be right,” Namekawa cedes before raising another point, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not forcing your body in ways unseen with the eye.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Taeyong insists, “With continued research and alterations to the serum, we’ll have less casualties and more success.”

“And are you planning on sacrificing your men for your success?” Namekawa frowns, “These men aren’t just common folk, many are the sons of nobles, aristocrats! Sons who will be missed should they just disappear.”

“It’s not as if we’re force feeding them pimul.” Taeyong’s agitated at the doctor, you don’t know the last he was able to see his own family since becoming a Fury. “The men who devote and give their lives to the Hwarang are the foundation of my work, they did not and will not die in vain.”

“But—”

“I think that’s enough,” Taeil steps in before the doctor can say anything else, “from either of you. Let’s discuss this at another time.”

To you it seems that neither Taeyong or Namekawa would ever come to a civil agreement on the ethics of the serum’s usage. But that was an opinion you feel is best not said at this moment.

The anger in Taeyong’s face subsides, and the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he bows and leaves the three of you wordlessly.

“So…” Taeil says as Taeyong recedes back into the headquarters inner buildings, “How did exams go?”

“About that,” Namekawa begins, “It’s a bit troubling.”

“Troubling?” Taeil asks, confused, “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean’?” Namekawa frowns, “The amount of injured and ill men you have is nearly a quarter of your forces!”

“That’s—” Taeil’s voice catches in his throat, “Are you sure?”

“I am not only sure, but it is the definite truth,” A disparaging shake of his head, “What have you been doing to these men? Cuts, lacerations, bowel pains… Need I mention the lice?”

“I’m embarrassed to hear that, I really am,” Taeil looks as such, his ears pink as he droops his shoulders. “What can I do?”

“Set aside a space for the ill and those needing medical attention, for starters. I can send some Pyrethrum powder for the lice,” Namekawa lists off and you can see Taeil mentally making a list, “Second, this place needs to be cleaned. I can’t help you otherwise.”

“Of course,” Taeil nods, the tinge of embarrassment still riding his tone, “I’ll have everything seen to immediately.”

And so, the Hwarang are ordered to clean. Those who are able-bodied enough to hold a broom or a rag are sent to the main hall, Taeil quickly barking out cleaning orders and sending them all over Bulguksa to thoroughly scrub the temple down.

“Why the hell are we doing this?” Yukhei grumbles as he sits on his knees, scrubbing at the wooden floors. “I can think of nothing less I would want to be doing right now.”

“Stop complaining so much,” Jaehyun sighs and calls him over, “Help me lift up this cabinet, it’s a great way to show off your muscles from earlier.”

You’re walking into the main hall with a bucket of water when you hear Jaemin cry out, causing you to jump and spill some of the liquid onto the floor and your shoes.

“A RAT!” He nearly screeches, hopping behind Yuta when he spots the gray creature dart out from a bookcase.

“Calm down Jaemin,” Yuta looks as if he’s holding back a smile, trying to keep the reserved demeanor he usually has, “It’s not that bad. It actually looks like it’s eating that—is that dried up tteok?”

“Yeah!” Jaemin says, leaning forward to get a look at the rat’s snack, “Who the hell hides their sweets back here?!”

A grumble from the other side of the room, you look over to see Kangjoon holding a boom, “Why are we bothering ourselves with work a servant should be doing? I’m a strategist, not a cleaner.”

“Why don’t you show us your school’s technique, then?” Jaehyun scoffs, “You said it’s prized knowledge, maybe it can help us here.”

“Shut it!” Kangjoon says angrily, “The Pohang style wasn’t designed to help with housework!”

“You’re a little bit of a bully, huh, Jaehyun?” Doyoung snickers as he peeks out from behind one of the various shelves, “Those old-timey tactics of his wouldn’t even allow him to hold a broomstick, let alone make a dent in this mess.”

Kangjoon’s stare hardens at Doyoung, “You should watch your mouth… Compared to the techniques from Tang it may be outdated, but I can assure you it still holds up.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun looks past Kangjoon and out one of the doorways, “Taeil’s coming.”

“Chief!” Kangjoon spins on his heels towards the door, “Look at this, the room was so filthy you couldn’t even walk properly, and with my guidance it’s—” He stops once he realizes there’s no one standing in the doorway, “Where’s Moon?” HH

“You’re an idiot,” Jaehyun rolls his eyes.

“Damn you, Jeong,” Kangjoon spits venomously, “You tricked me!”

“An idiot and a kiss ass,” Jaehyun hums, “Quite the multitasker. Don’t you ever get tired being such a two-faced asshole, not knowing which mask to wear?”

Kangjoon fumes and angrily stomps down towards the other end of the hall. You see this as an opportunity to proclaim your findings.

“I brought you all some fresh rags and water to help you clean the floor with,” you announce, holding out the bucket and handful of cloth to the captains.

“Thanks!” Jaemin says as he bounds over, swiftly taking the items from your grasp and heading back to his work station.

June 21st, 662 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla “This looks to be adequate enough,” Namekawa Yasuo had arrived early the next morning to check the cleanliness of the headquarters. He now stands in the main hall, a look of approval on his features as he notes the sheen of the floorboards.

“Right?” Yukhei beams, “See? The doc can acknowledge my hard work.”

Kangjoon lets out something of a guffaw at the statement, “Compared to the nuances of strategy, it’s not like tidying up is a magnificent feat or anything.”

“All you did was complain,” Yukhei frowns.

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods, “And Yongqin got to rest all day! Sounds like he was getting special treatment while we worked our asses off.”

“Not my fault,” Yongqin raises his hands to show he’s innocent from that decision, “Kun’s the one being overprotective.”

“It is your fault,” Kun snaps at him, arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not taking care of yourself, that’s why you’re coughing up a lung.”

“I will admit,” Yuta say, looking around the space, “It is nice seeing the headquarters put together.”

“It does look different,” Kun nods, also taking a moment to admire the cleanliness of the main hall, “I hope to keep it this way.”

“Then we should clean every day,” Jaehyun laughs aloud.

“Great idea! Make sure you scrub the baseboards, Jaem,” Yukhei jokes along with the other while Jaemin’s eyes go wide.

“But you’ve got the most energy and the biggest muscles, Yukhei! Don’t think I’m letting you slide on this,” the younger argues to the two others.

“I’ll help you,” you offer with a smile, knowing that he’d need it.

“Really?” He perks up, “Yeah, we don’t need them anyway, you and me against the world!”

“Hold on,” Yukhei interrupts, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help…”

Kun lets out a laugh, “Wong, there’s some trash over there, mind taking it out?”

“Hooold on, we’re not starting until tomorrow, right, Jaem?” Yukhei looks to him for help.

“If you keep flailing your arms like that, you’re only going to stir up more dust,” Yuta sighs as he watches Yukhei scramble to big up the assorted pieces of garbage.

You laugh at the scene until something catches your eye, you spot both Namekawa and Yongqin duck out of the room and head outside. Brow furrowing for a moment, you think to follow after them but stop yourself as it isn’t any of your concern.

After the ruckus in the main hall dies down, you grab a broom and head outside to sweep away fallen debris from the walkway leading to the main hall. You’ve just started to sweep the broom across the agate stone when a figure appears before you.

Head turning up from looking down at the azalea embroidered robes, all you can spurt out is a “You!” before taking a step back.

“You’ve got ancient blood running through your veins and yet you clean up after these humans?” Donghyuck sounds saddened on the verge of disgust as he looks to you.

“What are you doing here?” You question, the grip you have on the broom handle tightening as he chuckles at you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to fight me with that?” He shakes his head, biting back a laugh, “Was your family not blessed with brains?”

You don’t respond, instead look around for anything or anyone who could help you. Of course, the entrance lies empty, all of the captains still squabbling somewhere deep in the compound.

“Calm down,” Donghyuck sighs, his laugher ceasing, “I’m not here to fight today. I only want to know what, if anything, you have to do with Heo Jinsang.”

Stunned by his statement, your lips part in shock, “My father?”

“…Father?” Donghyuck looks surprised by your answer, “Heo Jinsang is your father?”

“Yes,” you nod, “he is.”

The man seems shocked at first, then that emotion melts away as it looks as if he’s putting the pieces of a puzzle together. He opens his mouth to say something else but a voice behind you stops him.

“Sneaking into your enemy’s base alone?” Kun’s voice rings out as his footsteps approach, the sound of dirt underfoot crunching growing nearer and nearer. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

A few other pairs of footsteps and you turn and see him flanked by both Jaehyun and Jaemin.

“In broad daylight too,” Jaehyun shakes his head at the intruder, “Figures.”

“Get away from her!” Jaemin’s a little more adamant, his hand already hovering over his sword.

“The Hwarang only come in bushels, huh?” Donghyuck says, seemingly wanting to egg the men on.

“Watch it,” Kun says sternly, the tension between the two becoming more palpable by the second.

Surprisingly, it’s Donghyuck who tries to sate it. “If you want to fight, then I’ll be happy to do so… But I’m here for other reasons, more specifically, to issue a warning.” His eyes grow dark and his tone more serious at his next statement, “Stop trying to turn humans into Demons.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kun frowns as he watches the other carefully.

“What makes you think that we’re going to listen to you?” Jaehyun pokes at Donghyuck.

“You’re all idiots,” Donghyuck shakes his head warily, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?” He rolls his eyes, “Forget it, it was useless trying to say anything to you.”

“This is our base,” Jaemin raises his voice, “You should shut up before we decide to do something about you being here.”

Donghyuck ignores the captain’s words and turns to you, a coldness in his eyes as he speaks, “Heo is with us now, don’t you understand what that means?” He searches your eyes for a spark of recognition, but it doesn’t seem to click so he elaborates further, “Your father has abandoned the Crown.”

“What…?” You say, still puzzled by what he means.

“Why are you here?” A cold smile to match his gaze creeps onto his lips, “I think you should ponder on that. Carefully.” With that final statement he turns on his heels and seems to disappear into the shadows. You’re not sure if he just did, your mind too caught up in what he just said.

What or who were the Demons? Your father is with them? You thought Lee Donghyuck’s family to be just opposing the opposite side of the court that favored the Hwarang, was it a ruse and he’s actually some sort of revivalist? Does this mean that your father is working with them?

Who are these people that call themselves “Demons”? And what do they want with you?

Donghyuck had said that you have the blood of a Demon…

“Why’s he after you anyway?” Jaemin asks one the dust settles.

“You know the answer as much as I do,” Jaehyun huffs, “There’s only one reason a guy would go through so much trouble over a girl.”

“What?” Jaemin questions, “What is it?”

“I’ll bet you anything that he’s in love with her.”

“What?!” You nearly squeak out. Jaehyun’s response is… surprising to say the least, and it seems to have come from nowhere.

“Why’re you so surprised?” Jaehyun nearly laughs, “Sure, you dress like a boy, but you really think a smart guy can’t figure out the truth? That guy’s a bastard, but he’s sharp.”

“No way, he can’t be—” You vehemently shake your head, “That’s not the reason!”

“You might be the only person that feels that way, you know.”

“Why d’you have to bring in your dirty thoughts into every conversation you have,” Jaemin whines. “Don’t you think now isn’t the best time to be talking about this kinda stuff with her?”

“I’m not bringing my dirty mind into anything. I’m just calling it as I see it.”

You’re unsure of what to say, but your face does feel unbearably hot.

“Knock it off,” Kun orders, “Back to work, you two.” His voice lowers, “Also, stop talking about her identity when other warriors are around to hear it.”

April 1st, 663 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla The sound of the broom sweeping against the stone entrance of the temple sounds rhythmic to your ears. As you reflect on being here for a little over a year now, you realize what a settled routine everyone’s come to, you’ve even been allowed more freedom to move around the compounds. Perhaps this freedom is what allows your guard to be down as a figure approaches you.

You see him in your periphery as you go to glance at the new buds on some nearby flowering trees, you face him, needing to squint as he nears. It’s obvious that he isn’t a part of the temple’s staff…

And there stands Lee Donghyuck. The man who had affiliated himself with Baekje, who’d outed himself as an enemy to the Hwarang. Your grip around the broom handle tightens as a nervous energy courses through you.

Almost as if he can sense your anxiousness, he looks to you and speaks with a warm tone, “I’m not here to take you away.” His eyes travel to the trees you’d been doting on before returning his gaze to you, “It’s been a while since I last stepped foot in Seorabeol… and I just happened to visit Bulguksa.”

“Did you think I’d believe that?” You ask, conviction raiding your tone.

“Well,” he sighs out, “If I’m being honest, I’ve come to check up on you, but my moods can be fickle. So, I decided to admire this temple instead.”

Your natural reaction should be to run and alert everyone that he’s here, but you doubt he’d let you get that far.

“Just to let you know,” Donghyuck’s voice lowers for a moment, “If I’d come to take you away, then I would’ve already done so.”

Once again, he looks to the surroundings, not having a care in the world that he lay in a viper’s nest. A small smile graces his lips as he looks to the temple itself.

“Shrines, temples, palaces, the city… If humans can do one thing right, it’s building beautiful monuments.”

“Huh?” Dumbfounded by his demeanor, you can only just stand there.

“If you’re done trying to interrogate me, look up and try to admire what’s around you.”

Your brow furrows at his words, but you’re inexplicably drawn to do what he says. Normally, you’re so occupied with helping out around the temple, you never take the time to sit and marvel at the scenery. Yet now you look and you can sense life teeming from the trees that surround every corner of the compound. The soft, setting sun of spring accentuates the lighter details of the temple. It’s refreshing to sit back and watch spring dance around you, almost as if you’re seeing it for the first time.

“It’s beautiful…” You say as your eyes catch sight of a bird flying up to its roost in one of the temple’s support beams.

“Don’t you find it strange? Humans are capable of producing such beautiful things.” Donghyuck sighs, “Yet, they think nothing of it when their wars reduce such beauty into ash, dust and fire. They’re all fools. And despite being of the same species, clan or family, they’ll find any reason to kill one another. They don’t even blink when it comes to deceiving their fellow man, lying their way to the top, and if they want something, they’ll steal it.”

He then looks to you, “What do you say? Wouldn’t you say humans are foolish?”

“There might be some people like that…” You shake your head, “That doesn’t apply to everyone.”

“Are you talking about those men?”

“Yes. Even though the Hwarang pride themselves for being warriors, they do it to protect the people of Seorabeol and the Crown.” You stand firmly on your hill, “It’s never for personal gain.”

What Donghyuck had described is true, that there are many people in the world capable of evil, but you know that isn’t true of the Hwarang. You’ve spent enough time with them to realize that.

“Not too far from this temple lies another. A temple beside a temple. Have you ever thought about how odd that is?” Donghyuck asks, “Long ago, before Silla was a mere conception, these two temples were part of a much more powerful temple. During a period of war, the forces of the western temple were successful in holding back the powers of the Jinhan for ten years. Do you think Hyeokgeose would allow this errant faction to be left as they were?”

“Well, I suppose not,” you answer and Donghyuck nods at your answer.

“So, the King operated behind-the-scenes, establishing this temple, isolating the original one.” Donghyuck’s hand runs along one of the agate stones on the wall, “They manipulated the two entities, fanning the flames until the two sides eventually broke out into a fight. Essentially, they split the temple’s forces and funding in half, which exhausted all of their men and made long term war unfeasible.”

“Neither side knew that they were being manipulated, battling their former friends, allies and comrades, for hundreds of years. So, don’t you think this sounds familiar?”

“Are you talking about the Hwarang?”

He doesn’t answer you, only looking coldly out to the courtyard. “These men, in whom you’ve foolishly placed your faith, are only pawns of the King. They won’t realize they’re pawns until it’s too late, and they will forever be Silla’s bitches, swinging their swords to put food on the table.” The man shifts, his arms crossing, “They have no sense of the bigger picture, nor do they show any regard for others. All they care about is advancing their self-interests.” Eyes shifting to you, “You’re telling me that your faith in humans is because of men like them?”

“Even then, I’d have faith in them.” You say, unwavering, “I’ve lived with them for the past few years and seen them closely. I know. Everyone struggles, and they’ve put forth so much effort to achieving what they believe is right. So… I don’t think they are like the people you think they are.”

“So, you think the Hwarang are just, and you don’t care if they kill one another, or participate in their needless wars?”

“That—No, it wouldn’t be alright,” his question stops you for a moment.

Donghyuck smiles and lets out a soft laugh, “Aren’t you a selfish one? But I do commend your desire to keep loyalty for those you have faith in, even if it’s futile.”

“What do you mean?” You question, furrowing your brow.

“Well,” he sighs out, “it seems like I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He straightens himself nonchalantly, brushing his shoulder.

You look at him, wondering if he really had just come to sightsee.

“Do you want me to abduct you or something?” He smirks, noticing your expression. His countenance then wavers, becoming serious as he’s thought of something, “Let me tell you something… These men that you’re so fond of, they’re just a bunch of dumb nobles who’ve convinced themselves that they’re warriors just because they own a sword. They draw their swords when they’re told and they kill their own men without batting an eyelash. I wouldn’t trust such people.”

“But everyone—”

“When the time comes, I will come for you.” Donghyuck says, “Think hard on what I said until then.”

“Come for me—” You begin, reaching out for him, but a gust of wind blows between your fingertips and just like that, he’s gone.

April 5th, 663 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla In the late months of 662, King Munmu had purged several members of his council for being either directly connected to or sympathetic towards the efforts of the Baekje revivalists. Now not only the revivalists themselves, but anyone who the Crown deems compassionate towards the cause, will be branded a traitor and an enemy of the Kingdom.

The loyalists laid low for a time, yet as the days, weeks and months progressed, more and more outrage began to grow in the hearts of those who feel as if Silla has done them wrong. Rumors of an insurgency began to spread throughout the peninsula, with the Baekje revivalists calling for the return of Buyeo Pung, the son of the last Baekje king. Not knowing how baseless these rumors were, the Crown asked Moon Taeil to head an expedition to the former capital of Sabi to investigate the claims.

It comes to pass that the expedition proves to be a fruitless venture, Taeil writes as much in a letter received at Bulguksa this morning. He writes that he is to return immediately, the cost and expenditure of the venture far too much for the little information recovered.

Riding on the coattails of nothing, you set out with Nakamoto Yuta this morning to accompany him on his rounds. An uneasy feeling fueling you with what may come in the weeks and months to pass.

“I’m glad winter’s finally over,” you note as you walk with him, thankfully that you no longer have to wear a thick coat when you go out on rounds.

“As am I,” he replies, his answer short and simple. His gaze flickers to a nearby shop before he looks to the men behind him, “We can start here and begin our rounds.” Yuta then turns to you, “You can wait outside if you’d like, I’m sure there’s nothing in here that would interest you.”

“Alright,” you nod before he and the handful of men make their way inside of the store, leaving you alone outside. His voice muffled from the interior, but you can hear him questioning the owner of the shop over a few accusations that had arisen recently. A few more minutes pass as you idly stand outside before you notice a commotion a bit further down the street.

A bawdy group of soldiers make their way through the crowd, pushing, shoving and spewing less than pleasant profanities as they laugh amongst one another. For members of the kingdom’s army, they never seem to have respect towards the people they protect. You’d come across some before, never able to do much about their behavior. And now the Hwarang aren’t here, still holed up in the shop behind you with their investigation.

One soldier knocks a child down as they pass, you’re not sure if it’s intentional but your instincts kick in and you race over to help the kid to their feet. You’re about to shout something at them, the anger towards their attitudes bubbling within you rapidly, but before you can, someone else calls them out.

“Stop right there!” It comes from a woman, an angered expression on her face as she marches over to them.

“Are you trying to tell us what to do?” A solider laughs at her, “We’re here to keep you safe, miss.”

“Is pushing around people keeping them safe?” She bites, a venom to her words, “It’s a little pathetic to act all big and strong to people who can’t even fight back.”

The soldier’s temper lit, he makes a grab for her and misses entirely. It looks as if he’s trying to move for her once more before you spring to your feet and jump between them.

“WAIT!” You shout out, trying to make your voice sound deeper than it is. It’s then you realize what you’ve done, your arm outstretched to keep the soldier from coming any closer to the woman.

“This your girlfriend or something,” the soldier snickers at you, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know her,” you shake your head, “but I can’t just stand by while you try to hurt her.”

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of my goddamn business you bastard,” The soldier says through grit teeth, flecks of spittle flying out of his mouth with each word.

“If you’re a true soldier of the kingdom, then why are you abusing your power over children and women?” You argue back, unsure of where you’re getting the strength to sound so authoritative when your knees feel wobbly, “A soldier is meant to protect the people, not take advantage of them!”

“The fuck did you just say?” You’re sure if there wasn’t an audience watching this happen, the solider would’ve ripped into you with the blade at his hip.

From somewhere in the crowd, a man shouts out, condemning the action of the soldier. A few more voices rise out in agreement, your speech must’ve encouraged the people to call out the soldier’s behavior.

“You son of a bitch,” the familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed rings in your ears as you watch the soldier take out his sword.

Eyes widening, you at first think to move to dodge the attack, but that would leave the woman you’re trying to protect vulnerable. So, you move to reach for your own blade before the soldier lets out a groan and falls face first onto the ground in front of you. Looking up, you see Yuta standing there, his hands holding his still sheathed blade.

“I used the hilt,” he notes, looking down to the solider before looking back up to you, “He should be out for quite a while.” Yuta then looks to the Hwarang accompanying him before giving them an order, “Take him and his men back to Bulguksa, they may have information on the loyalists.”

The Hwarang quickly get to work tying up and escorting the men away, leaving just you, the woman and Yuta alone on the street. Yuta now looks at you, trying to figure out what had happened.

“That was reckless,” he sighs out, “I was just inside, you could’ve asked me to help. What would you have done if they injured you?”

“I couldn’t stop myself,” you shake your head, “What if she were to get injured?”

“He’s right though,” the woman speaks up from behind you, stepping forward so she’s in line with you, “I feel like I was handling the situation well enough.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” you look a bit shocked, fully expecting the scolding from Yuta, but not from the woman. After giving her a short bow, her eyes widen as if she’s remembering something.

“You did save me though, didn’t you?” She now bows towards you, “Thank you! I forgot myself for a second.”

“I really didn’t do anything,” you chuckle nervously, “It was Captain Nakamoto here and his men that did the work.”

“Even still,” she insists, “it’s way more respectable than just watching it all go down. Young ladies have to watch out for one another, you know?”

Yuta’s gaze travels from her to you, an expression crossing his features that you can’t quite name. “…You can’t expect to fool everyone you meet.” He says after a moment, letting you know that your jig is up.

“Were you trying to pretend to be a boy?” She sounds incredulous, the soft pinks of her shirts shimmering brightly in the sunlight, “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

You’re not sure how to respond to her, in it of itself your whole situation is precarious at best. Seemingly sensing your confusion, she moves on swiftly, “I haven’t even asked your name! It seems like I’ve forgotten my manners. I think we could become very good friends, but it’s a bit difficult to befriend the nameless, can I as your name?”

“Oh well,” you look to Yuta, “this is—”

“I know him, of course. Captain Nakamoto, right?” She says and looks to the man, “The Hwarang are famous enough in the city. But I’m asking who you are.”

You give her your name and blow slightly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her eyes grow wide, almost as if your name shocked her. She stares at you for a moment, “Heo? Your family name is Heo? Were you born near the coast?”

A slow nod, “I was. I lived in Toehwa-hyeon, but I had to come to Seorabeol for several reasons.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking intently at you before she breaks into a smile. “I’m sorry,” a hand to wave off her prior concern, “it’s the same last name as an acquaintance of mine. It’s a lovely name.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” another smile before she introduces herself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sooyoung, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Sooyoung,” judging by her attire, she’s probably the daughter of a high-ranking noble.

“Don’t be so formal!” She insists, “You look like you’re around my age, there’s no reason for us to not speak as equals.”

“So, just Sooyoung?” You question hesitantly.

“Just Sooyoung,” she smiles, “We have to meet again sometime, I feel like you’d be great company to keep.” Her hands out stretch to hold yours for a moment, giving them a gentle squeeze before she turns and leaves.

Your encounter was over before you had the chance to fully comprehend what had happened, so you stand partially stunned as you watch her walk off.

Yuta watches her disappear into the crowds as well before he turns to you, “She seemed to be interested in your last name.”

“She said it was the same as someone she knows…” You hum and look to him, “It’s not an uncommon last name.”

It seems like he’s concerned with her reaction, deep in thought as he nods his head. “We’re running late on our patrol schedule… We should get going.”

And so, the two of you continue on the patrol, basking in the pre summer warmth that descends on the kingdom.

April 25th, 663 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla The heat intensifies as the month continues, dredging the compound in humidity only seen in the later summer months as the days go by. You’re sitting in the main hall with a small fan to cool yourself down with when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Excuse me, Heo?” You turn and see Lee Jeno standing in the doorway with a tray of tea in his hands, “Is this batch good enough?”

“Hm,” you stand and walk to him, gingerly placing your fingers to the pot before recoiling away with a small wince from the heat, “It might be best to make tea lukewarm on days like this.”

Jeno had joined the Hwarang just after Taeil had returned from his expedition to Sabi, while there he invited the new member to join the organization. He’s now working as Taeil’s page, and seemingly struggling with the transition from military life to that at the headquarters. The new member does seem fond of the Hwarang, very focused on honing his skills when he’s not running errands for the leader.

“Do you think we can water it down?” A voice questions as they round the corner and saddle up to Jeno, a tray of tea in his hands as well.

“Ah, Sungchan, if you do that then you’ll lose the tea’s flavor,” you note, somewhat scarred by that suggestion.

“Really?” His eyes widen as he turns to his friend, “What do you think we’re supposed to do, Jeno?”

“Maybe if we put the teapot in well water?” Jeno suggests, humming out the question.

“That might work!” Sungchan nods enthusiastically, “Let’s do it!”

Jeong Sungchan joined the Hwarang around the same time that Jeno had, and because of their similar rank and age, they grew quite close to one another. Not to mention, Sungchan also became Taeil’s page-in-training. Because of that, it was up to you to make sure the two became acquainted with the Hwarang and all of their pagely duties, a task more difficult than you previously imagined.

“The tea doesn’t need to be exactly room temperature,” you say quickly, “Just a bit cooler to balance it against the warm weather. So, instead of boiling water, just make it warmer and then brew it. Then it won’t affect the tea’s flavor.”

“Ohhh,” Sungchan muses, “You really do know a lot about this.”

“It’s very helpful,” Jeno smiles at you appreciatively.

“As for the tea,” you look to the pots, “I’ll serve it to them so you two can—”

“What do you need?” Sungchan asks, saddling over to you, the cups and pot on his tray clinking together as he does so. “We’re up for it!”

“You’re going to do some sword training with me!” Yukhei, who’d been sitting at the other end of the table, fiddling around with some trinket, exclaims as he rises to his feet. The two pages go quiet, knowing full well that Yukhei’s training regime would probably leave them battered and bruised come tomorrow morning. “What?” The captain asks at their silent, “You don’t want to train?”

“Of course not!” Jeno shakes his head, “I’d love to train.”

“Um…” Sungchan sighs out, “I still have a few errands to do…”

“Don’t get shy on me new kid,” Yukhei laughs at him.

“It’ll only help us become better warriors,” Jeno mentions to Sungchan hurriedly.

“It’s not training it’s hazing,” Sungchan frowns and mutters quietly.

Yukhei laughs again and puts his arms around the two, looking over at you with a wink, “I’ll take them off your hands for a bit.”

Jeno smiles weakly as he sets down his tray, Sungchan looking as if he’s ready to cry as he sets down his own before Yukhei throws his arms around the two and drags them off towards the training yard.

May 13th, 663 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla “Is it really true that Buyeo Pung returned from Yamato?” Your voice quiet as you set down a cup of tea by the Hwarang’s leader. Taeil had been sitting out in one of the temple’s gardens after briefing the captains on what news had just emerged from the former kingdom of Baekje when you found him. On his expedition a few months prior, the Crown had concluded that the rumors of the former prince’s return weren’t anything to be afraid of, yet now it seems as if the attitude has shifted and a causation for worry has arisen.

“It seems that way,” Taeil nods and reaches for the cup, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drink from it. “His forces attacked Yongmyo Gate out west and a monk from the temple they’ve been holed up in has instated him as Baekje’s new king.” The leader looks tired as he sets the cup back down.

“Does that mean there’s going to be a war?” You ask quietly, wondering what this means for the rest of the kingdom. It doesn’t seem as if the news of Pung’s return is widespread yet, as the city still seems to be at peace.

“War? Hmm,” Taeil hums, “I’m not sure. They’ve allied with Yamato, gotten Gwisil Boksin back as their general and are trying to claim territory quickly so we can’t stop them.” That seems scary enough just listening to their conquest, but Taeil adds a bit more to ease you, “King Munmu has asked Emperor Gaozong for aid, supposedly they’re sending in Lui Jengui.”

You don’t know who that is, but with the assuredness in Taeil’s tone, it makes you feel a bit better. “Will the Hwarang have to fight?”

“I’m not sure,” he shakes his head, “We could be delegated to keeping watch over Seorabeol or be put into the ranks depending on what’s needed.” His arms cross over his chest as he remains deep in thought.

You’re not sure what to say, on one hand, fighting for the kingdom is what the Hwarang are meant to do, but in doing so, there would be inevitable loss among his men. A heaving sigh escapes you before Taeil speaks up once more.

“Doctor Namekawa is examining Yongqin right now.” You look to him, wondering why he’d said that. The captain had seemingly been in a sickly state for a while now, had it gotten worse? “He hasn’t said anything but I hope it’s nothing serious,” a frown on the leader’s lips as he says that, “if something happened to him, I’m not sure I could face her…”

“Her?” You question, “He’s not married, is he?”

Taeil chuckles lightly and shakes his head, “His sister. He left her in Gochang when he joined us.”

“I didn’t know that he has a sister,” you say, somewhat surprised at the revelation.

“He does,” Taeil nods, “Both of their parents passed in Tang before they came to Silla. Yongqin was like a parental figure to her as they were growing up.”

“Is sounds like Yongqin has been through a lot…”

“He’s too honest to admit it, but yes, he has,” Taeil agrees.

“You’d be the only man in Silla to call him honest, Moon,” Kun laughs, having arrived in the garden at some point when you and Taeil had been talking.

“Kun,” Taeil smiles to him and motions him over, “Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you,” the commander shakes his head, his demeanor becoming more serious, “Have you heard about the notice board by the river?”

“The one that calls for the arrest of Baekje loyalists?” Taeil asks before answering himself, “I have.”

“Some assholes tore it down and threw it into the water,” Kun relays, crossing his arms.

“I heard about that as well,” the leader nods, “Didn’t they fix it the next day?”

“Yes, but then it happened again,” Kun huffs, “I have a feeling we’re going to be asked to keep an eye on it sooner or later.”

“It was torn down at night, wasn’t it?” Taeil muses, “What about using Taeyong’s Fury Corps?” With the way Kun looks after Taeil’s suggestion, it’s easy to see it doesn’t sit right with the commander.

“They work hard enough but they get… excited once the sun goes down.” Kun uncrosses his arms, “Whenever we give them something to do, they end up slaughtering instead of arresting. They desecrate the corpses until they’re unrecognizable. I don’t know if it’s to hide out involvement or what, but they’ve been going too far.” He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the thought, “Despite me telling them to stop, they won’t. If they keep it up then they’ll be no better than the average murderer.”

You still can recall the night you’d first encountered the Furies, their bloodlust and the utter lack of regard for human life.

“… I have other ideas of what we can do.” Kun says, looking towards Taeil.

“I’ll leave it to you then,” the leader nods with a sigh. “Have you heard of the reforms that Cha Sohwan is trying to initialize with the crown?”

Before long, the two of them delve further into political jargon and names that you’d never heard of before, so you excuse yourself and walk back to the inner buildings. There’s much on your mind, but the Furies are and what they’re meant to do is what really confuse you.

May 17th, 663 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla Kun seems to have been right about the notice board, a few days later the order arrived telling the Hwarang that they’re to guard the board and apprehend anyone who seeks to destroy it. Any captains and their division not on active patrol are to be positioned there to guard it. The first few days proved to be calm, with most of the men rolling in in the morning looking dead tired.

Yukhei is a great example of this, you notice it when you walk into the great hall and he’s slumped over in his chair, his cheek pressed against the tabletop as he yawns. “Morning,” a lazy wave towards you, “I’m beat.”

“I’d have thought you were better at pulling all-nighters,” Jaehyun mutters next to him, leaning back in his chair.

“Pulling all-nighters in Noseo-dong is different than standing guard for a goddamn sign,” Yukhei groans, pushing himself off the tabletop. “It’s not like I want the posting to be vandalized, I just wish something would happen. You’re in charge of it tonight, aren’t you Jae?”

“Yeah,” the other nods, “And I will uphold my position with my sense of duty, honor and enthusiasm.” It’s obviously sarcasm that leeches from his voice, but you can’t fault him but so much, it does sound awfully boring.

“Good morning, Captain Kim, Doyoung,” You nod as the two brush past you and head further into the hall.

“Hello, you three,” Gongmyung greets with a tired sigh, “Did I interrupt something here?” As he speaks a few of his men filter into the room, taking up a rather large portion of the space.

“Are you up to something here?” Jaehyun asks as he watches the men file in, “What’s with all your men?”

“Me?” Gongmyung looks to him and smiles, “I was planning on holding a debate with my men on the topic of the potential Baekje threat. Would you like to join us?”

“You’re such a jackass,” Doyoung says quietly and rolls his eyes at his brother. “I’m sure Jaehyun’s read the Four Books and Five Classics but I doubt the other two even know what those are.”

“Don’t be impolite, Doyoung,” his brother scolds without any real scorn behind it. He looks to you and Yukhei, “Excuse him, I’m not sure what’s been affecting my dear brother as of late. But as it looks as if the hall’s in use, I’ll just take my men elsewhere.” With that, Gongmyung beckons his followers to follow him out of the hall, heading for another building in the compound.

As soon as they were out of sight, a look of disgust comes over Yukhei, “Him and his groupies are just a bunch of pompous nobles.”

“Gathering his men and having secret meetings,” Jaehyun frowns, “Who knows what they’re actually “debating”.” His head shakes with confusion, “I still don’t see why both Moon and Jaemin saw him as a valuable asset.”

Gongmyung isn’t just disliked by Yukhei and Jaehyun, more Hwarang than you can count had expressed distaste in him since he’d joined. There’s no way the captain hadn’t picked up on that by now, but he seems less than concerned of what everyone else thinks of him.

“Have any of you seen Captain Kim go by?” A new voice appearing in the doorway, it’s Suh Kangjoon, looking a little frazzled.

“He just left to go to another building,” you say quickly, “I think he’s going to have some kind of debate.”

A frustrated sigh, “I told him to tell me when he’d have his next meeting…” With that, Kangjoon storms off, probably going to find the captain.

“What was that about?” Yukhei mutters as he watches Kangjoon stomp away.

“My guess is that he tried to join Gongmyung’s little posse but he’s not giving Kangjoon the time of day,” Jaehyun shrugs. “It seems like he doesn’t really have a place for himself these days.” Another glance outside and Jaehyun sighs, standing from his chair and stretching a bit, “I guess I should head out now.”

“Oh, actually—” You begin, and he turns to look at you. “Can I go with you?”

Jaehyun seems to think on it for a moment before shaking his head, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Those Demons are still out there and these revivalists aren’t much better if we come across them.”

“I guess you’re right,” you frown, the sedentary nighttime at the compound is just bugging you, you suppose. “Be careful, I know things are getting more hectic these days.”

“Will do,” he nods before spinning on his heels and bounding out the door.

October 30th, 663 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla After the siege by Silla on Buyeo Pung’s fortress at Imjeon, the newly crowned Baekje king and his people fled further into their homeland, taking residence at the former capital of Sabi. Shortly after, Buyeo Pung has his lead general, Gwisil Boksin beheaded for fears of insurgency in the newly reformed kingdom, subsequently calling for aid from their allies in Yamato to try and suppress both Tang and Silla forces on the peninsula.

The tensions between Silla and the Baekje revivalists culminate in early October, when, on the fourth, Yamato forces arrive on the costal front of Sabi. Intent on invading the capital in the name of their Baekje allies through navigating the Baekgang River, they soon found themselves interlocked in battle with the Tang army stationed nearby.

Emperor Gaozong merely requested supplies from Silla at first, until the next day they call for standing troops. This means that several Hwarang were sent to fight the front lines, among them, Jeong Jaehyun, Nakamoto Yuta and Wong Yukhei had taken their men to fight amongst the Baekje-Yamato forces. On the seventh, the Baekje-Yamato and Silla-Tang forces engage in battle once more, with the Yamato forces reeling with heavy casualties as the Silla warriors were able to break through their lines.

What comes to be known as the Battle of Baekgang ends on the thirteenth of October, 663. With little to no way of defeating the Silla forces on land or the Tang forces at sea, Buyeo Pung is forced to retreat. Neither the Silla nor Tang forces can capture him before he escapes into Goguryeo. Yet, the absence of a king quells the thoughts of a Baekje revival for some time after.

In lieu of waiting for the three captains return, you find yourself sweeping the entranceway of the temple’s grounds, the autumnal air setting into your bones as the minutes pass. There isn’t a great much you can do as you anticipate their arrival, merely picking up things out of place and making sure no one’s snuck around and gone through their things while they were gone.

“You’re certainly hard at work,” Taeil notes as he’s come outside to see what you’ve been up to. “The captains should be returning any day now.”

“I know,” You smile, expectant on their return, “Everything’s been hectic these last few months.”

“You can say that again,” the leader sighs out. It’s been especially taxing to both him and Kun, who’d been called nearly every other day to the palace to discuss further plans on the fate of the remaining Baekje loyalists. “Oh,” Taeil says as he spots a figure nearing him around a corner you can’t see behind, “Over here, Kun!”

The Hwarang’s commander comes into view seconds later, a tired edge to his voice, “There you are, I was wondering if you’d had enough and escaped yet.”

Taeil laughs, “Almost to that point, I’m afraid. I’ve been looking for you too, it seems as if Lui Jengui’s been chosen to front the effort to extract Buyeo Pung from Goguryeo.”

“Him?” Kun nods slowly, “I guess it makes sense, he did just secure Sabi for Silla. The captains will have to tell us more about him once they get back.”

April 13th, 664 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla “Look Yongqin!” You call out to the captain some feet in front of you, “The trees bloomed.”

Li Yongqin stops in his tracks, the blues of his robes shifting as he turns to face you and then looks across the river the pair of you’d been walking by on your patrol to spot the blossoms.

The gentle introduction of spring is most certainly needed in Seorabeol now. After last autumn’s attempt at quashing the Baekje forces, Silla thought themselves to be rid of the threat, but now more rumors have been arising from the north that Buyeo Pung and his men are on the move once again.

“You’re right,” he nods and looks back to you, a smirk on his lips as he does so, “Even then, I’d try to act sedater about it.”

Eyes widening as you look at a few townsmen who pass, their gazes dubious over your excitement towards the changing season. Maybe too forgetful of your attire with the dawn of a new spring, you find yourself quieting down as you catch up to Yongqin.

“Yongqin?” You question after a moment more of walking, your eyes watching a few petals float atop the river, “Why didn’t we go after those men who ran off after seeing you?”

“Them?” Yongqin scoffs as you look back to him, “They’re not revivalists, that’s for sure. If they were, they wouldn’t have run off like a dog with its tail between its legs. More than anything they’re probably common thieves.” A nod of his head as his shoes kicks up a small cloud of dust, “To be honest, I doubt there are any revivalists in Seorabeol willing to start anything and oust themselves at this point.”

“The Hwarang have really made a name for themselves, haven’t they?” You muse, watching the street ahead of you. “It seems like everyone knows your blues.”

In recent memory, the question of changing the Hwarang uniform has been placed on the table more than once, stemming from the fact that it both catches people’s attention as well as wards troublemakers off. As well as a lack of fashionable sense, Gongmyung had so graciously advised.

“Has the Deputy Commander returned from Ungjin yet?” You question, knowing that Gongmyung had left some time ago to oversee some things at a newer installment of Hwarang in the area.

“Think so,” Yongqin frowns, “Can’t say I wanted him back so soon, if ever, though.”

“He said he was going to recruit people too, right?”

“Mhm, but I have to wonder if Ungjin is the only place he went.” The Hwarang mutters.

“Isn’t that a good sign though? That he’s trying to get more numbers?”

“Is that what you think that’s about?” An eyebrow piqued at you.

“Am I wrong to assume that?” You furrow your brow, brushing your hand on the front of your robes to try and get rid of some lingering dust.

“Not at all,” with the way Yongqin says it, you know he’s being sarcastic. “Moon’s too nice to him, he should’ve been kicked out a long time ago.”

Ever since the Kim brothers had arrived to join the Hwarang, there had been a strong dislike for Gongmyung. You certainly can see why but hearing the absolute vocalized protest against him is jarring to hear.

You break away from looking at the road ahead and catch a glimpse of a figure quickly turning and racing down a side alley. At first you think it to be more men afraid of getting caught from the Hwarang on patrol, but the bright pink of their skits catching you off guard as they slip around the corner.

“Wait a minute…” Catching their eye, you’re stricken with a familiarity almost as you were looking at your own face. You aren’t given much time to look at her, though, because one you’ve realized who she is, she’s gone. “Ahro!” You call out, only to be pulled back by Yongqin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, only for you to shrug him off and barrel down the road towards where you’d last spotted your doppelgänger.

“Just hold on!” You call out behind you, knowing that a stunt like this is going to get you into trouble. The backstreets are denser than you originally though, a thicket of people causing you to weave your way through the crowds as you race after the girl. It isn’t until you trail her to a back alley deep in the depths of Seorabeol does she stop.

“Is something wrong?” Ahro asks as she spins on her heels as she turns to face you, “You seem to have exerted yourself quite a bit.”

“It looks like I surprised you earlier,” you huff, trying your best not to double over as your lungs take in more oxygen than they can process. “Do you remember who I am?”

“Of course,” she nods, “You were with the Hwarang that day.”

“Can I ask you something?” Thoughts flooding to what Jaehyun had said that night at Noseo-dong, of the girl he mentioned who looked exactly like you. “One of the men said they saw a girl who looked like me at the bulletin board by the bridge some months ago… Was that you by any chance?”

“I’m not sure,” a frown holds her lips as her pink skirts flutter in the wind with a gentle breeze, “I don’t find myself traveling there very often. But if he had seen me, would that be an issue?” Embarrassment takes hold over you; you’re almost accusing a stranger for something that you don’t even know the full story to. “Perhaps what you wanted to ask me was if I’ve been there at night?”

Eyes widening at her statement, maybe she is more perceptive than you thought.

“It happened in late spring, someone who looked like me disrupted what the Hwarang were guarding,” you pick your words carefully, trying not to be but so accusatory at the moment.

“If it was you,” a voice, more accusatory, calls out from behind you and directed towards Ahro, “Then we need to talk, it may or may not end with your imprisonment depending on the answers you give me.”

“Yongqin,” you mutter, surprise overtaking you as he walks to stand by your side. You’re not sure when he’d caught up with you.

“Captain Li,” she notes with a small smile, “Thank you for helping me back then.”

Her gratitude falls on deaf ears, Yongqin’s frown not budging with her words. “Are you going to answer her?” He asks, gaze narrowing, the taught smirk reappearing as his body tenses, anticipating something, “Were you at the board that night?”

“Many people walk by that board during the day,” Ahro’s brow furrows, “But I don’t go near it at night because of the attacks. Are you accusing me simply because I look like someone else?” She looks almost downcast at her own words, her gaze dropping to the ground as she hangs her head.

“Of course not,” you step in, “It’s rude of us to assume without any proper evidence.”

“You’re still gullible,” Yongqin scoffs, shaking his head, “After a few sorry words you’re just going to believe her? Even if she is the culprit, do you think she’d just tell you that?”

Yongqin and you lock eyes, an immense feeling of guilt washing over you. You’re not one to place the blame with little to no evidence, but she was the closest thing to a lead you and he had seen since Jaehyun had divulged what he’d seen that night.

“If there’s no reason for you to keep me here… I should be getting on my way, I have errands to run,” Ahro sighs out and turns on her heels, beginning to walk towards the main street.

You think to pursue her once more, but a fit of coughing coming from the captain interrupts that thought.

“Are you alright?” A worried look to Yongqin, who’s nearly doubled over, coughing into his hand. You find yourself stepping forward, wanting to offer assistance but not sure on how to so do.

His head shoots up to look at you as he hears you approach, his free hand raising to stop you, “Stay back.” Another bout of coughing before he speaks again, “I’m fine just… just give me a second.” It is the intensity of his demeanor that halts you, not only his words. The captain coughs for a few moments more, only standing straight when the bouts reside. His face looks pallid, sweat crawling down the sides of his face as he looks back to you.

“Are you still sick?” You question him carefully as he wipes his hand on his sleeve. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly, a small smile finding its way to his lips as if to assure you. It doesn’t. “You did make me run after you; you know.”

“But…” you begin before he stops you.

“But nothing, we’re in the middle of our rounds, we can’t get sidetracked anymore.” With that, he begins to walk, pace a little more slow than usual. You catch up to him and he starts to scold you, “I agree that asking Ahro about the incident was important, but you can’t just run off like that alone. If she had been an enemy or had accomplices waiting for you, what would you have done?” He watches your brow furrow and shakes his head, “You didn’t even think about that, did you?”

Even if Ahro hadn’t done anything nefarious, Yongqin’s right. You’d chased after your doppelganger without a second thought, which could have been bad if it had been someone else.

“Just,” he sighs, “try to be more careful, okay? I can’t be around you all of the time to make sure you don’t run off and get yourself kidnapped or killed.”

With Yongqin’s words still lingering in your head, you finish your rounds and head back to the temple grounds. They still continue to float around even after you’d eaten dinner and resigned yourself back to your room, the bright light of the moon creeping in through the sole window of your quarters.

You like to think yourself useful, on more than one occasion you had helped the Hwarang with their ventures and around the headquarters. Yet, today had shown you that there is much more to learn, and maybe that your perception isn’t where it should be.

The more you think about it, the stronger your resolve to change it becomes, you’ll work on becoming more aware and less dependent on this. It’s high time you do something about it.

Just when you think that to yourself, a loud boom reverberates around your room, up against your door as if someone’s thrown themselves against it. It causes you to startle, quickly bolting up from your bedding as your heart begins to pound in your chest. It happens once more and the door bursts open, splinters of wood falling to the ground from where the hinges once attached to frame, revealing a wang-do standing in the dimly lit hall.

“Is… everything alright?” You question after they make no move to speak, continuing to stand there ominously. “Do you need something?” Every muscle in your body feels taught, anticipating the culminating worry building in your gut.

The wang-do mutters something, nearly inaudible as you strain your ears to listen to him.

“What did you say?”

“… Blood,” the word chills you as he takes a step across the threshold of your room, now as he comes into focus you can see that his hair is stark white. “I need… blood.” In his hand is a sword, dragging along the ground as he takes another step, the sound of the metal carving into the wood of the floor echoing around the space. It hits you then, your stomach dropping as you realize that he’s one of the Furies.

You part your lips, wanting to call out for one of the captains, but find yourself unable to muster a singular syllable before the Fury lunges at you with a cackle. The blade hisses as he raises it and brings it down toward you, you roll from your bed and onto the floor but not before you feel the cool metal of the blade burn and sink into the flesh of your arm.

A cry escapes you as you hit the floor, trying to scramble away from the intruder, but as the Fury catches sight of the crimson of your blood, he seems to only become more enthralled. Hand finding the wound on your arm, you try to apply pressure to it, your back hitting the wall behind you as the Fury looms in front of you.

“Someone help!” The words finally escape you as the Fury reaches up to smear the droplets of your blood that had his hit cheek, he laughs again before raising his sword once more, probably intending to end your life. His eyes show no remorse, no semblance of humanity as he laughs and laughs. Feet kicking off of the floor, he begins to barrel towards you, your limbs frozen in place as you can only watch.

The sound of a pair of footsteps racing into your room nearly pulls your attention away from the man running at you, yet it doesn’t, but when the new figure tells you to duck and look away, you comply almost immediately, tucking into yourself and trying to move away.

The Fury that had been chasing you stops at the intrusion, looking surprised to see the commander standing in the front of your room, his sword raised. Angered at the arrival, the Fury turns from you and takes a sloppy swing at Kun, the commander’s blade meeting the wang-do as he turns.

A cry resounds around the room as the Fury is struck, writhing for a moment before his wound begins to heal before your very eyes. Kun realizes this and looks over to you, “Get over here, now,” his voice stern before he looks back to the wang-do. Wordlessly, you do, still holding onto your arm as you make your way to him, the Fury’s attention still rapt upon Kun. As you fall behind the captain, more footsteps race towards you room, several of the captains arrive at your doorway seconds later, their brows furrowed.

“You alright?” Yukhei asks as he looks to survey the situation.

“That’s,” Jaehyun frowns before you can respond, his eyes settled on the wang-do, “the kid who had to drink the pimul after that shop raid… He’s too far gone now to bring him back.” The sadness in Jeong’s tone in palpable, knowing that they’d have to kill the turned wang-do in the very near future. As if the words were an unspoken signal, the trio release their blades from their scabbards. They fan out, circling the wang-do carefully, watching for any signs of erratic movement. In an instant, the captains attack and fell the soldier, who crumples to the ground with a shriek of pain.

For a few seconds, the room is quiet, only then to be interrupted by more footsteps approaching. Perhaps the captains hadn’t been the only ones to hear your plea for help.

“I thought we’d talked about sparring after the sun’s set…” Gongmyung’s voice sounds from around the corner, rubbing his eyes as he turns into the room, freezing when he sees the scene before him. “What’s happened?”

Brow furrowing as he looks to the fallen Hwarang, “Wasn’t he sentenced to death a few days ago for breaking our code?” Looking from the bloodied corpse to the bloodied blades held by the captains, “Are you all responsible for this?”

Kun mutters some profanity under his breath as Jaemin begins to ramble, “You don’t understand, we’ve just-”

“A captain cutting down his own man?” Gongmyung continues, an amalgamation of confusion and anger culminating on his expression, “This is unheard of.”

“This is my fault, I suppose,” another voice rings out from behind Gongmyung and your hair stands on end immediately. Taeyong looks forlornly at the wang-do’s corpse, “My lack of leadership caused this to happen.”

At the sound of his voice, Gongmyung jumps and at the sight of him, Gongmyung pales. “W- What are you doing here, Colonel? You’re supposed to be dead…?”

The room falls silent once more, until Kun breaks it.

“I suppose we can’t keep it a secret for any longer.” Arms crossing over his chest, he looks to you as you push yourself from the floor, “You should leave, you can use my room for the night.”

You want to stay, want to make sure that they can explain everything properly so that Gongmyung doesn’t get any more frantic. Yet, Kun’s expression tells you enough that he’ll handle it.

April 14th, 664 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla The sound of birds chirping stirs you from slumber, and as soon as your eyes open you bolt up, looking at the unfamiliar space around you. This is the commander’s private quarters; you remember this as you recall the events of the night prior. Your arm, now wrapped in bandages, had healed quickly, yet you keep the guise of injury for the time being. The last you’d checked it had faded into a light scar, in a few days there would be no trace of it at all.

Your feet eventually find the floor, standing and stretching before you open the door and quickly make your way to the main hall to see what the events of last night had wrought upon the Hwarang. Before you get into the hall, you come across the Kim brothers, Gongmyung calling out to you.

“You…” The Deputy Commander says before two more figures come into view.

“Jaemin… Yuta… Where are you all going this early?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“Due to last night’s… disturbance, I’m sure no one got a good night’s sleep,” Gongmyung answers for them, “You were injured, right? How’s your arm doing?”

“It isn’t as bad as I first thought,” you nod, hand moving to ghost over the injury.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says with an uncharacteristic smile. Rather than the manic state he was in last night, he seems to be chipper.

“Did something happen?” You ask, wondering about the mood shift.

“I suppose you could say that, right, Nakamoto, Na?” Gongmyung looks to them, as do you. When you catch Jaemin’s eye he quickly breaks away, diverting his gaze away from you.

“I guess so,” the younger mumbles out.

“It isn’t information we can give out right now,” Yuta frowns, his attention rapt on you, unlike Jaemin’s.

“Even for you, Nakamoto, that’s a cold goodbye,” Doyoung speaks up, “Or did you want to get out of here as fast as you could?”

“Are you… leaving?” You question, looking back to the brothers before Gongmyung hushes his sibling.

“We’ll be on our way,” he nods at you, “I hope your injury heals well.”

“Goodbye,” Yuta says as he passes you, a small nod in your direction before Jaemin brushes past with a ‘See you’.

And then just like that, they’re gone, leaving you standing at the entrance of the main hall to try and understand what had just happened. Before long, you pull yourself from your thoughts and make your way into the hall, met with a few other captains.

“Are you sure you should be up already?” Jisung calls out to you as you enter, a worried expression on his face as he notices your bandaged arm. He’s standing next to Shotaro, presumably having been in a conversation with him before your arrival.

“I’m alright,” you try to assure him with a small smile, “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

“That’s good news,” Shotaro smiles, “I’m sorry to hear that it happened though.”

“It’ll be alright…” Trying to sate their worry, you bring up another thought plaguing you. “I saw the Deputy Commander on my way here, he was acting strange.”

The two look at each other before Jisung lets out a sigh, “You saw them?”

“Jaemin and Yuta were acting strange as well,” feeling concerned for the captains, you look to the two in front of you for answers.

After a moment of silence, Shotaro speaks up hesitantly, “Well… They’re leaving.”

Eyes widening as Jisung adds on, “They’re going to form a new group different from the Hwarang. We had a meeting with the chief and Commander Qian about it this morning.”

“So Jaemin and Yuta…” A frown beginning to curve your lips as you realize why they had been so downcast.

“They are leaving with him, yes,” Jisung sighs out, “I think I’m as shocked as you are. I understand that coming from Jaemin, since he’s known him for longer… But Yuta’s surprised me the most.”

“Don’t worry,” Taeil’s voice calls out, probably having witnessed your conversation from the head of the room. “We promised to keep things calm between our two organizations.”

Even if his words are meant to calm, with Gongmyung leaving with several pivotal members of the Hwarang, you only think he’s meaning to split and factionalize the rifts forming in the Hwarang’s ranks.

“He still won’t be able to associate with the Guard though, right?” Shotaro questions.

“Like hell I’d let him,” Kun speaks up now, a bitter bite to his voice, “He can leave, but I’m not letting him walk all over us so he can get what he wants.”

From there, the Hwarang begin to speak amongst themselves of names and other organizations that you aren’t too familiar with, slowly leading you to drift away from the conversation. Despite your feelings towards the captains leaving, you know nothing you say now could change anything, they’ve already left. So, you quietly excuse yourself and leave the main hall. As you walk towards your room, you look to the sky, wondering what the impact of leaving would have on the remaining Hwarang. Surely a blow like this hurt not only their pride but the relationships they have with those who left.

The door to the main hall opens and you turn to see Kun leaving, he catches you looking at him and strides over.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He questions, eyes lingering on your bandaged arm, “I remember the cut being deep.”

“I feel better,” you say quickly, trying to brush off his concern.

“Just because your father’s a doctor and you know a few things doesn’t make you invulnerable,” an almost concerned tone wavering in his voice, “Go and get some rest before you hurt yourself more.”

“I will,” you nod, mentally berating yourself. It’s hard to recall the severity of one’s injury when it heals so quickly. “Before I go, though… can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the new group… How do you feel about all of them leaving?”

“What do you mean?” He questions, crossing his arms.

“You’re losing some of your men,” you aren’t sure how careful you should be with your wording, “Doesn’t that make you upset?”

“If they were my allies yesterday and things change that makes them my enemies tomorrow, so be it.” He shakes his head, “That’s just life.”

“Even Jaemin and Yuta?” The two captains had been by his side since he’d started commanding the Hwarang, surely, he couldn’t turn on them so easily.  

“They’ll be missed,” Kun frowns, “But if they’re leaving it means they had an issue with the Hwarang, it’s best they leave now than when their discontent grows even more.”

The commander’s harsh and analytical take towards his men leaving has you somewhat stupefied. On one hand, you can see how indifferent he’d be towards Gongmyung and his lackeys leaving, but the two captains should have him more in a state. But if they all found themselves incompatible with the Hwarang, maybe it was for the best.

In the days following the departure of Gongmyung, Doyoung, Yuta, Jaemin and the rest of the Kim’s followers, you notice the compound feeling much emptier and lonelier. Around that time, Suh Kangjoon departed the Hwarang and his role as War Counselor. Even if it’s the inevitable change of things, you can’t help but see several different paths beginning to veer off the main one, unsure of where each one leads.

July 11th, 664 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla Three months have passed since the departure of Kim Gongmyung and his men to form the Guardians of the Royal Tomb. More so, it has been three months since Yuta and Jaemin left. Their presence, or absence of, remains blazingly obvious at times during the days that have since passed. These thoughts of them, and their reasoning for abandoning the Hwarang plague you still, as they do today as you look for a chore to do.

“Do you have a moment,” the voice of Moon Taeil calls out, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh!” You say, “Of course, sorry, I was daydreaming a bit…”

“Don’t worry,” he laughs, “You look tired, I only meant to say hello.”  The leader’s expression grows concerned as he notes your solemn demeanor, “You do seem in poor spirits, though. Is everything alright?”

“Ah—Yes, I’m fine.”

“I see…” You can tell by his expression he doesn’t believe you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Of course,” you nod quickly, “I’d be happy to.”

“Great,” he replaces his stoicism for a grin, “There’s a store nearby called Kwangya, I hear their hangwa is to die for. What do you think? Would you be willing to go and buy me some?”

“Of course, but… I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to leave the compounds on my own…”

“Ah—” He catches himself, “I forgot…” Taeil then glances around, his face lighting up when just the man he had likely been looking for appears from just around the corner. “Kun! Do you have a moment?”

“Hm?” The commander says as he walks over, “What is it? I’m a bit busy now, can it wait?”

“This won’t take long,” the chief shakes his head, “I was hoping to send her on a short errand. Are any of the men available to chaperone her?”

“Hmm… Yukhei’s training the men, Jaemin’s… not around… Ah,” he thinks of someone, “Minhyung’s off duty right now. Ask him.”

As it turns out, getting approval to go out is surprisingly easy.

Before long, Minhyung and you are on your way into the city.

“Sorry for the trouble,” you say to him as you walk.

“It’s no problem,” he insists, “I had nothing else to do, and no reason not to do what the commander asked. So… we’re here to get hangwa?”

“Yes,” you note as you step over a rather large puddle, “Taeil says this place makes some that’s really good. Although apparently it’s really popular so they run out quickly.”

You appreciate Taeil’s effort, but even you can see that sending someone other than you would have been far easier. It looks as though you’re not as adept at hiding your feelings as you’d hoped.

Almost an hour later you walk out of Kwangya, the warmth of the freshly made jeonggwa emanating through the small box in your hands. You’re sure Taeil would be happy with what you picked out. Thinking of his reaction, you let a small smile slip across your mouth.

“…Is something wrong?” Minhyung questions, “If you’re finished, we should probably head back.”

“Right!”

The sun inches toward the horizon with what feels like every step you take, pushing your shadows further and further behind you.

“The sun is strangely red today…” You note, glancing up at the angry looking orb. The two of you continue to walk looking up until Minhyung looks at the path in front of you, stopping you by reaching out and pulling on your sleeve.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, looking to him and then to where he’s looking.

Then you see him, walking down the street toward you, the hustle and bustle of the street fading away into the background.

“You!” You cry out, not expecting to see Lee Donghyuck roaming the streets of Seorabeol.

“Hm,” his eyebrow raises at the sight of the two of you, “How unexpected.”

“Lee Donghyuck!” Minhyung nearly shouts, “What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?” The demon questions with a tilt of his head, “Then again, the King’s dogs do have to mark their territory from time to time.” He then looks to you, “Nonetheless, I’m surprised to see you let the bird out of her cage. Tell me, why is she here?”

Minhyung grimaces and slips a hand into his pocket, Donghyuck grins at this.

“Really?” He almost laughs aloud at the motion, “Surely you don’t think you have something hidden in there that might allow you to defeat me?”

“…Would you like to find out?”

“Minhyung wait,” you say quickly, “There are too many people here!”

Around you, you can see several families on the street, children flocking around their parents as they shop and sell their wares. Minhyung’s eyes flick back and forth, taking everything in. When he speaks, it’s in a voice so low that only you can hear.

“You need to run. I’ll deal with him.”

“But—!”

Donghyuck isn’t just another angry soldier—he had fought the entire Hwarang to a standstill, and then walked away. Minhyung is skilled, but the odds aren’t in his favor.

“Why are you here?” You turn, looking to the Demon. Is it really only coincidence? Without knowing his intentions, it seems premature to decide whether to fight or flee.

“You think a polite question is enough to wring secrets from me?” He laughs, his words harsh but his tone makes it sound as if he’s enjoying himself. “You clearly consider me an enemy, and yet you question me and expect an answer? I can’t decide if you’re brave or insane.”

“Stop messing around.” Minhyung moves to stand further in front of you, “Either tell us your purpose here or don’t.”

“Ah, my purpose?”

“I don’t think you’re just out for a walk. Tell us why you’re here or else…”

“’Or else…?’” Donghyuck sighs, “I suppose when all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. Have you considered that I am here merely by coincidence?”

“Are you, really?” You ask.

“I imagine that may be hard for you to believe. Then again, I care very little whether you believe me or not.”

“Then where are you going?”

“Gokaju.” He says simply, noting your confused expression. “I was bored so I came into the city to have a drink… Is that enough, or shall I elaborate on my gokaju preferences?”

“Uh…” You can’t find a retort to his explanation.

Donghyuck laughs, “Is something wrong? Is it so hard for you to believe that I drink? Do you think that I’m a monster who subsists entirely on human blood?”

“Well, no.” You’d only ever seen him on the battlefield before. In your mind, he’s inextricably connected to the din of battle and the stench of blood. To think a creature like that is going to sit down at a bar with normal humans to have a drink… It’s quite impossible to imagine.

“You’re welcome to follow and observe, if you don’t believe me.” His voice teasing, “I might even allow you to pour me a drink.”

“I don’t think I will.” You say quickly.

“Hmph, siding with this filth again?” He shakes his head, “I fail to see the appeal. Why would you choose to associate with such crude animals?”

“They’re not crude and they’re not animals.” You feel your hands tightening into fists, “They’re warriors and take pride in what they do.”

“Pride,” Donghyuck says in a breath of laughter, “Did you say ‘pride’? So, they turn themselves into fakes to cover their own inadequacies and call that ‘pride’?”

It’s a somewhat roundabout way to refer to the Furies, but it’s easy to see his point. Pimul grants a great deal of power, but in exchange it drives those who use it mad with bloodlust. You don’t have a decent rebuttal to him.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Minhyung urges, “He just enjoys shaking you up.” He then turns his attention to Donghyuck, “We have nothing more to say to you. If you’re really just here to drink, why don’t you just move along? I can’t imagine stirring up trouble here would benefit you any more than us.”

“Oh? Do you now?” His gaze narrows, “You think that concern for this human rabble would play even a miniscule part in my decision?”

Minhyung shakes his head, “I heard you sided with the loyalists. No doubt you’d slaughter all these people without a second thought, but the leaders of the ‘insurrection’ may not approve so that sort of thing, am I right?”

“You think you’re pretty clever,” Donghyuck’s eyes flash at Minhyung, “Don’t you?” For a long, nervous moment they stare at one another. Eventually though, it’s Donghyuck who backs away.

“Fine,” he sighs out, “This was only happenstance to begin with. If I wanted to attack the Hwarang, I wouldn’t be wandering the streets hoping to find you. You may go about your business. This time.” With a cold smile, he turns to walk away.

“Where are you going?” You ask and he sighs once more.

“Were you even listening? I am on my way to have a drink.” His head shakes, “We Demons eat, drink, sleep and all the other things. As do you. If you were to join us, you would understand that.” And with that, he’s lost to the crowd. You stand there, his words echoing through your head.

Once you’re back at the compound, Minhyung turns to you, “I need to tell the commander about what happened. You should get back to your room. Don’t leave unless someone’s with you.”

“Okay,” you nod, “Thank you.” After he’s fled off towards Kun’s room, you make your way to Taeil’s. The jeonggwa is cold by the time you get there.

Even after returning to your own room, Donghyuck’s words ring around in your ears. Are Demons really not that different from humans? He looks no different… Did he go back to a home of his own? What does he do there? Is it a pleasant life? A peaceful one? It has to be more peaceful than the life that the Hwarang lead. Although you still wouldn’t trade your position, doing so would leave friends that you’d come to love and you’d have to accept that you are a Demon yourself. That prospect terrifies you.

July 11th, 664 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla Three months have passed since the departure of Kim Gongmyung and his men to form the Guardians of the Royal Tomb. More so, it has been three months since Yuta and Jaemin left. Their presence, or absence of, remains blazingly obvious at times during the days that have since passed. These thoughts of them, and their reasoning for abandoning the Hwarang plague you still, as they do tonight as you toss and turn in your bed as you search for slumber.

It isn’t coming any time soon, your muscles ache from your work earlier in the day, and you’d woken up early this morning to aid with an upcoming captain’s meeting… why aren’t you tired? You should be, right?

Eyes shutting for the umpteenth time, trying to force yourself to sleep, you hear a voice call out to you from behind your door, a gentle knock accompanying it. “Are you awake?” The voice of the Hwarang’s commander causes you to scramble to your feet, inching closer to the door.

“Is something wrong?” You ask as you approach the door.

“You have a visitor,” voice muffled behind the wood, you can hear him shift on his feet, “Once you’re dressed, come to the main hall.”

“A visitor?” You muse as Kun’s footsteps lead away from your room to give you some privacy. The visitor in question confuses you, who could possibly be calling for you at this late at night? Regardless of their identity, you quickly dress yourself and head to the main hall.

The figure standing there as you enter surprises you, before you’re able to question their appearance, Taeil speaks.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep,” A small smile of apology as he glances towards the newcomer.

“You look like you just rolled out of bed,” Yongqin says snidely, a grin on his lips, “Didn’t even brush your hair?”

You begin to move your hand towards your scalp as you frown at him, but before you can touch your hair, Kun cuts him off. Glancing to the commander, you can see Taeyong, Yukhei, and Jaehyun in the room as well.

“This isn’t the time, Li,” Kun huffs and looks to you, “You look fine.”

You nod quickly at the commander before turning back to look at your guest in full, once she lays her eyes on you, she breaks out into a small smile.

“It’s good to see you again.” With all of the elegance that you had upon your first meeting, Sooyoung commandeers the room with her charisma, “I hope you’ve been well? I’m sorry for visiting so late.”

“Sooyoung?” The name falls from your lips as you stare at her, confused. It’s then you realize that another woman stands beside her, her face seeming familiar as well.

Sooyoung seems to catch this, turning to her and telling you, “She’s my bodyguard, of sorts.”

“Your bodyguard?” The woman in question is almost as striking as an actress, not what you’d expect a guard to look like.

Even more confused, you look to Kun, who sighs out, “…She said that it was imperative to talk to you.”

It’s obvious that he isn’t stepping into your own matters unless you allow him to, so you hum to yourself and look back to your visitor. “Why are you here, Sooyoung?” A tilt of your head as you ask, “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll get straight to the point then,” her smile fades away and her expression becomes stern, turning to face you fully, “I’m here to take you away.”

“Take me away…?” Brow furrowing, your foot moves instinctively to take a step back, “Why?”  

A hum as she thinks, “It’s a long story that I’m not sure how to begin.”

“There isn’t any time to discuss this,” the woman who’s beside her, says hurriedly, “We need to leave immediately if we’re to get here out of here safely.”

“Hold on,” you interrupt the pair, “Why should I go with you two?”

“That’s a good question!” You hear Yukhei speak up from behind you, “You barge in here, ask to talk to her, and demand that she leaves with you?”

“You’re not related to her, are you?” Jaehyun adds questioningly, “She looks about as confused as we do.”

“Sooyoung, could you explain what’s happening a little more?” You pose, not trying to get the captains upset if there’s an actual reason for you to be worried.

“Our intrusion would perplex anyone, I suppose,” she nods in understanding and then motions to one of the tables in the room, “This might take a while, so it’s best to be comfortable in the meantime.”

“Would you like us to stay outside?” Taeil asks, glancing towards the open doorway into one of the temple’s courtyards.

“No,” Sooyoung says as you move to take a seat at the table she’d motioned to. “I’d like you to stay, this involves the Hwarang as well.” She takes her own seat, followed by the captains, Taeil and Kun, who she observes quietly before beginning to speak.

“I’m aware that you all have met Lee Donghyuck before, right?” As she states the question a few of the Hwarang look taken aback. “You’ve fought him once or twice.”

“How do you know that?” Kun’s gaze hardens on the woman.

“I know most things that go on in Seorabeol,” her gaze returns the hardness of his, “Eventually.”

“You’re like him and his cronies, aren’t you?” Arms crossing over his chest as he comes to the realization.

“I’d prefer not to be associated with him, Sicheng or Dejun, but yes, in a sense I am.” A nod of affirmation as Kun’s expression softens slightly.

“… You were talking about Donghyuck, then.”

“We fought him at Wonweol, Ongsan and Banweolseong,” Jaehyun interjects, brow furrowed, “What are his ties with the loyalists?”

“It seemed like he was there for his own reasons, though,” Yongqin points out, countering the other. “Not any sort of politics.”

“Regardless, he’s an enemy of us,” Kun frowns, adjusting the way he’s seated.

“Then you’re also aware that he’s pursuing her?” Sooyoung’s eyes flicker to you, the captain’s stares following suit.

The unraveling of this truth is a story you don’t want to hear the end of. Your stomach churns uneasily as each captain looks at you, some confused, some unsure of what to do or say. Taeil eventually breaks the silence,

“We’re well aware of that.” He coughs to clear his throat before continuing, “We also know he has comrades he calls Demons; not that we believe that, of course.”

“I’m not sure that that claim is unfounded, Chief,” Taeyong speaks up from the swarm of captains looking at you, “They all possessed strength incomparable to any of our men. Any of our... living men, at least. Despite that, it seems as if no one really knows they exist.”

The captains shift, murmuring things too quietly for you to hear before you look back to Sooyoung, anxious for her to continue.

“So, then you do know that they’re Demons,” a nod as she hums somewhat contently, “That will make things a little easier to explain.” Her hands fold atop one another as she places them on the table, “I’m not human either, I’m a Demon too.”

Your eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, “You are?”

“I’m actually rather high ranking,” eyes locked with yours, “something akin to a princess.”

“My family has been guarding hers for generations,” the other woman adds, moving a bit to stand closer to Sooyoung’s chair, not having sat when everyone else did.

“I suppose that makes more sense,” Kun muses, despite you still looking confusedly between the three. “I was wondering why you were so friendly that night, you were getting intel on the Hwarang, weren’t you?”

A sly smile as the guard brushes a few strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear, “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“You know her?” Yukhei sounds shocked as he looks to Kun.

“Move your eyes up six inches, Yukhei,” Jaehyun snorts, “That’s Seulgi. Dressed a little differently than she was in Noseo-dong, but that’s definitely her.”

“Holy shi-” Yukhei nearly chokes, baffled at his inability to have recognized her from before.

“Us Demons have lived on this land since before the kingdoms were even mere conceptions,” Sooyoung captures the conversation once more, “The top officials in Silla, Goguryeo, and what was once Baekje, already know of our existence. Most Demons have no interest in human affairs, preferring to be left alone. However, humans in positions of power sought to use us to benefit their own means.”

“Did the Demons comply, then?” You question softly, seeing the look of disgruntlement on Sooyoung’s face.

“Most didn’t. Human ambition has never been strong enough to pull a Demon to get involved,” an almost angered sigh leaves her, “Yet, when the Demons refused to help, the humans were furious and sent out armies to destroy our homes and our villages. We scattered, across the land and are now divided by the different kingdoms. We seldom leave our domains and remain in hiding.”

“That’s awful,” a somberness coating your words as she speaks, the lorness in her expression unsettling.

“Many Demons went on to have children with humans, there are few of us now who can claim a pure bloodline.”

“I assume Donghyuck is one of them?” Taeil questions softly, trying to not upset Sooyoung further.

“The largest pureblood family are the Lees, you’ve already met the head, Donghyuck.” A small nod as she looks to you, “In the north, the largest clan is the Heo family. That would be yours. I heard the Demons of your family were destroyed by humans, but it seems like you’re the lone survivor.”  

“Me?” You resist the urge to point at yourself, utterly taken aback by what Sooyoung had just divulged. “That’s impossible… I-”

“I had Seulgi look into your family history to the best of her ability,” she insists with a firm shake of her head.

“It seems hard to believe,” Seulgi offers you a sympathetic smile, “but you are very much a Demon. The blood that runs in your veins is strong, we sense great power from you.”

At a loss for words, you stare at the two women. It’s borderline insane that this is what they’re telling you, but at the same time it would explain a few things. Why Donghyuck is after you, why you heal so quickly…

“If you really are the descendent of a pureblood Demon, it’s quite clear why Donghyuck is after you,” Sooyoung doesn’t finish the rest of her statement, the answer being quite clear. “If two pureblood Demons were to have a child, it would be stronger than both of its parents combined.”

“He intends to marry her,” Taeil huffs, glancing to you and your wide-eyed expression.

“It seems so,” the woman agrees, biting her cheek, “So far it seems as if he’s only been testing the water, I’m unsure of when he’ll become more confident in his approach. If he were to use his full strength, I don’t know how you would fare in protecting her. Even the Hwarang can’t stand against the true power of a Demon.”

“Wait a minute- aren’t you going a bit too far?” Yukhei asks, sounding hurt by the latter statement.

“I don’t think you’re giving us enough credit,” Jaehyun frowns, “We’re not just some foot soldiers.”

“The only reason you’re alive is because Donghyuck wants you to be,” Sooyoung points out, “If he and his accomplices were to use their full strength, I’m not sure what would happen.”

“Then let them,” Taeyong’s voice rises through the unsettled quiet, “I would like to see the power of a real Demon.”

Donghyuck, Dejun and Sicheng had all shown incredible strength in the prior meetings you had with them; even the Hwarang captains had trouble keeping up. If that hadn’t been the full extent of their power, you’re unsure that you want to see it.

“Yukhei and Jaehyun are right,” Kun says, “Even if they’re stronger than the average warrior, you’re still discrediting us. The power difference wasn’t so great that they bested us easily.”

“That’s right,” Yongqin nods and smirks at the Kun, “Besides, we’ve got the Demon commander himself in charge.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Li,” Kun sighs and shakes his head.

“You must realize that these men are unlike any you’ve faced before,” there’s an almost pleading edge to Sooyoung’s voice. “Your job is to protect Seorabeol, not her. That’s why I’m asking you to leave her in our care, with us her chances of surviving one of Donghyuck’s attacks will be much higher.”

“Give us a break,” Yukhei says, rising to his feet and planting his palms on the table, “You’re making it sound like we can’t protect her.”

“I’m not trying to sound rude but,” Yongqin’s head tilts at the two women, “you think that the two of you could protect her better than us? Neither of you are a part of the Hwarang, I’m not sure why you’re going around and sticking your nose in our business.”

Sooyoung and Seulgi seem to be taken aback by the captain’s reaction.

“What do you think, Commander Qian?” Seulgi looks towards Kun, her gaze narrowing, “You’ve acknowledged Donghyuck’s strength, are you not at least considering Sooyoung’s offer? I think it’s in your best interest to leave her in our care.”

“That’s different,” Kun looks to Seulgi, leaning back in his chair slightly, “We made a promise to her, to protect her, we’re not going to back out just because they’re Demons. And I understand that you call yourselves Demons too—but that gives us no ground to trust you.”

“Do you realize who you’re speaking to? Sooyoung is a descendant of—”

“Seulgi,” Sooyoung stops the other with a raise of her hand, her tone calm but stern, leaving no room for more argument, “That’s not necessary.”

“I agree with Qian,” Taeyong affirms, yet doesn’t look your way, “if she possesses blood of a different species… I’m sure her aid will come to use with our internal purposes in the very near future.”

Seulgi glares at the colonel, not speaking as to not anger Sooyoung.

“This is a problem, then,” Sooyoung notes solemnly, “Is there no way to convince you to allow her to go with us?”

“Hold on,” Taeil interjects, “We didn’t even confirm what she has to say about all of this.” His gaze travels to you, sympathetic in nature and looking in your eyes as if you already have an answer.

But you don’t know what to say. It’s not that you doubt the concerns of Sooyoung and Seulgi, yet there’s just more and more to take in.

Taeil sees your furrowed brow, eyes teeming with indecisiveness, and nods with a small smile, “It must be difficult to discuss in front of so many people. You should speak to Sooyoung privately.”

“What the hell—!” Kun begins to protest, but Taeil is unwavering in his stance.

“We’ve been ignoring her feelings for this entire conversation,” Taeil states, “if she wishes to leave of her own accord, for her own safety, we ought to let her, no?”

“You’re too soft on people,” Kun scoffs, but makes no move to stop him.

“You won’t steal her away the moment we leave you alone, will you?” Taeyong asks as the captains rise to their feet.  

“Of course not,” Sooyoung says as she remains seated, “Once Demons make a promise, we’re bound to keep it.”

A few moments later, once the captains, commander, chief and colonel had filed out of the main hall, you lead Sooyoung to your room nestled in the compound. Seulgi had opted to stay outside, just far enough away so she wouldn’t encroach on your private conversation.

“I apologize for giving you a terribly large number of things to think about,” Sooyoung starts off, “Normally, I would never do something like this.”

“It’s alright,” you try to reassure her with a small smile, “I’m sorry for them as well, I know they can be a little… brusque at times.”

“That’s to be expected,” she waves it off, “I know I was asking a lot of them. Not many humans would accept the existence of us so easily. But enough of that, what do you say to my offer? Do you have any thoughts on it?”

Of course, you do. If it had been Sooyoung to come across you on your first night in Seorabeol, you very may well have taken her up on her hospitality. Yet now…

As if she can see the wavering of your options, Sooyoung speaks, “The Hwarang seem to believe they can protect you from everything out to get you. I don’t doubt their dedication, I do, however, doubt their ability.”

You stay silent, aware that what she just said may be true. The Hwarang are powerful, skilled in both the sword and bow. You’d seen them overcome overwhelming odds, but those odds had always been nothing but human-made. From what Sooyoung had said, the strength of a single Demon would be enough to wipe them out should they so choose. A few of you have been able to see that firsthand, and the losses associated with it. To think that that same fate could arise to a captain of the Hwarang fills you with undeniable dread.

“With Buyeo Pung seeking aid in Goguryeo, things will only get more hectic here in the capital,” Sooyoung says to fill the silence, “If Donghyuck were to strike in the hysteria, what do you think would happen? You should leave the Hwarang, let them fight without worry.”

“Sooyoung…” The concern for you seems real, frantic, almost.

“Is there,” her expression softening as she searches yours, coming to a subtle conclusion, “a reason you want to stay?”

“…There is.” You answer without thinking it through, the words falling from you so quickly you can barely catch them.

“One of those men, perhaps?” Innocent in nature, her question still catches you off-guard.

“No… It’s not that.,” you shake your head, “It’s just… I’m confused. All this time, I thought I was a human.” Your ability to heal quickly was surely strange, perhaps, but you’d never thought it was indicative that you weren’t even human. Or maybe you’d never allowed yourself to think otherwise.

To try and hide your condition made you lonely enough.

“I understand,” she says, “but now isn’t the time for that sort of angst. You are a Demon, and that is a fact that neither you nor I can change.”

“But none of this makes any sense…” Your brow furrows, “Not only am I a Demon, but I’m the last survivor of some big Demon clan? It’s all just…”

“Is see…” Sooyoung’s voice softens, for a moment she looks lonely. “Well, if you do not wish to go, I cannot force you.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything—” You murmur, “Could you just give me some time? To think.” You want to find your father and ask him if what she said is the truth. Maybe then you could accept your fate as a Demon.

Sooyoung and you make your way back to the main hall, the captains loiter around the space, some look anxious upon your arrival.

“Have you come to a decision?” Taeil asks once you’ve fully stepped into the room, giving you little time to compose yourself.

“For the time being we’ve decided to leave things as they are,” Sooyoung states, Seulgi looking at her worriedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.” Sooyoung nods to her, “I believe prioritizing what she wishes is what’s most important for now.”

“Very well,” Taeil finds it hard to mask the smile growing on his lips, “The Hwarang accept responsibility for her well-being.”

“Just relax and leave it all to me!” Yukhei bursts out, eager to show his worth.

“I’m sure Wong’ll give you much more to worry about,” Jaehyun laughs and looks to you, “It’ll be nice to still have you around.”

“What kind of girl wants to stay here?” Yongqin chuckles, “I can’t tell if you’re brave or if you’ve had a strong lapse in judgement.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” Kun points out, “You’ll still be treated like you always were.”

“Of course,” you nod, “Thank you all for letting me stay.”

Sooyoung then moves to you, her hand finding yours as she looks into your eyes, “Please be careful, and remember, I’m on your side.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” you smile at her gratefully as she relinquishes the hold on your hand. She gives you one last beaming smile before her and Seulgi are off into the dark of night.

July 19th, 664 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla In the days since Sooyoung’s visit, you find it much more difficult to drift off into a dreamless slumber. When you do dream, you find that your mind often travels to your heritage and what it means for you now and in the future, something of which you don’t want to think about.

You had decided to stay with the Hwarang, but was that really the best choice for you, for them? Of course, you wanted to stay but would you being here cause them unneeded harm?

A sudden clang from outside causes you to jump, to leave your thoughts for a moment as your heart begins to pound. Eyes cautiously looking towards your bedroom door, your hands clench your blankets in taught anticipation.

Several short bangs from your door cause you to rise to your feet, the voice of Osaki Shotaro calling out to you, “I’m sorry for bothering you, but there’s an emergency!”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice wrought with anxiousness as you walk towards the door, opening it to allow him inside.

His body tense as he enters, continuously looking over his shoulder to make sure the hallway is clear, “The Demons have attacked us.”

“What?!” Icy dread seeps through your veins at his words.

“They’re after you, which means you need to stay here.”

“But—” You begin to protest his assertion, wanting to help in some way as the only reason the Demons are here is because of you. “Shotaro, I have to find the others.”

“I can’t let you,” he shakes his head, a worried look in his eye as if he knows he can’t reason with you, “The Commander asked that I make sure you don’t leave.”

“They’re here for me, though. If anyone gets hurt…” You wave away the thought, “Maybe I can try and reason with them? What if I can get them to leave peacefully?”

Shotaro’s lips purse, and after a moment, he shakes his head in defeat, “If you’re going to be that insistent, I don’t think I can stop you. I was told to protect you though, so if you’re going, I’m going.”

The two of you leave your room, barreling down the hallway until you’ve reached one of the inner courtyards. You stand there momentarily, unsure of where to go, until Shotaro speaks up.

“It’s this way,” he says before something darts in front of you, pushing the officer to the ground. His body seems to fly for a few yards, hitting the ground with a thud as Shotaro groans out in pain. As you try to run up to him, the same blur passes in front of you and you feel an arm wrap around yours.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The voice of Lee Donghyuck asks you simply as you struggle to get out of his grip. His grip is like steel, unmoving and snakelike, “I heard the Park clan visited a few days ago, I’m sure you know why I’m here, then.”

He sighs, looking at the surrounding buildings, “You’re a Demon, a noble Demon… There isn’t any reason for you to hole yourself up with fakes.” Donghyuck’s grip tightens on your arm slightly, “Come with me.”

It’s obvious who he’s talking about when he mentioned the fakes. With the way your body tenses, Donghyuck can sense your anger.

“Do you really think staying here and helping their own self-interest and agenda to create those… things is really what you should be doing?”

You find it hard to respond. For obvious reasons, you aren’t a fan of the existence of the Furies, but there were times when it was needed for a Hwarang to survive. Could you fault a man for wanting to live? Besides, your father was one of the people who created the serum, you can’t help but feel partially responsible.

“My father was handling the experimentation,” you thrash in his grip, trying to lessen his hold on you. “As his daughter, I can’t ignore that.”

“Ah, that’s an admirable attitude.” He notes, “But that doesn’t mean I’d look the other way.” His eyes look up from you as the sound of racing footsteps approach.

You break your gaze away from him to see Jaehyun and Kun running towards you, sour expressions on both of their faces.

“Breaking in again?” Kun frowns as he locks eyes with Donghyuck, “I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid. This isn’t a gathering place for Demons, you know.”

“Barging in here to find yourself a wife,” Jaehyun snickers at the Demon, “You’d think you’d have gotten the message by now.”

The sight of the two Hwarang puts you at ease a bit, even more so when you can see Minhyung and a handful of other wang-do behind them. There are a few missing faces among them, you wonder if they’d gotten injured in the earlier skirmishes.

“You have no idea how important she is,” Donghyuck frowns, his grip on you unrelenting still.

“So, taking her against her will just because you’re too scared of rejection is the way you’re going around this?” Jaehyun nearly shouts at him, “That’s just pathetic.”

“Even if you take her as a hostage, we’ll kill you without hesitation,” Kun affirms, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“I wouldn’t need to use her as leverage with the likes of you,” there’s arrogance in his words as the Hwarang begin to encircle him. The tension pulls like a taught rope, beginning to fray as it reaches its breaking point.

You’d long ago decided that you would trust the Hwarang. The men have far more experience and skill than yourself. So, you decide that the safest thing for you to do is to leave the situation to them.

Your eyes meet Jaehyun’s. They’re calm, confident and warm. Even as you lay quite literally in the grip of the enemy, his gaze makes you feel reassured.

“The men at the gate are taken care of,” the voice of Xiao Dejun calls out.

“This was way too easy,” Dong Sicheng joins him, “I guess they are humans at the end of the day. Hey—” He notices that you’re in Donghyuck’s grasp, “You got her. Let’s go.”

“The longer we remain, the more likely the situation will escalate out of our control.” Dejun adds, crossing his arms.

“You’re right,” Donghyuck sighs.

“I have to say, I was expecting more from the Hwarang.” Sicheng begins to laugh, but it’s cut short by Jaehyun lunging out at him with his blade. He’d barely dodged it and was beginning to speak again when another flurry of strikes lashes out at him.

“Care to repeat that?” Jaehyun smirks.

“Oh, hello Jaehyun,” Sicheng says with a grin of his own.

This time, Jaehyun lashes out towards Donghyuck.

“You thought you could defeat me like this?” The Demon chuckles as he evades it easily.

“I’m your opponent,” Kun shouts, “I said before that I wouldn’t hesitate to strike you from behind!”

Kun’s attack had abated Donghyuck’s attention towards the commander long enough to allow him a chance to strike. Kun’s sword drawn from his scabbard, he arcs his blade towards Donghyuck’s head. The Demon moves quickly, but with a nonchalant nature in his movements as the blade passes centimeters from his throat.

His grasp loosens and you fall to the ground, you keep low as the swords clash overhead.

“Filth,” Donghyuck sneers at Kun, brushing aside a blow from the commander and a strike from Jaehyun.

“You bleed when you’re cut, right?” Kun smirks, “So if I chop off your head, I figure you’ll die too.”

“Care to test that?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” The sound of steel-on-steel rings out across the compound, you’re surprised that none of their blades break.

“Humans are so strange,” Dejun frowns as he unsheathes his own blade, “Why fight when you know you cannot win?” As he speaks, he begins to move towards Donghyuck, but finds Yukhei standing in his path.

“Ah ah ah,” he says, “You’ve already got a date with me tonight, pretty boy.”

“I’d rather not,” Dejun frowns, raising his blade, “But you give me no choice, it seems.”

Yukhei swings his sword as if backed by his entire body, Dejun deflects it easily.

“You’re the guy who hurt Jaemin, right?” Yukhei shouts, ready to strike again, “I’m not gonna let you go until I get in at least one good hit for him!”

Donghyuck and Kun are still locked in battle, but in a moment of rest, Kun laughs, “What’s the matter? You seem a little tired compared to earlier.”

“I was going easy on you since you’re barely worth my time,” Donghyuck sneers, locking Kun into another gale of blows. The two only stop when Dejun speaks up.

“Donghyuck, our enemy has regrouped,” his eyes flicker towards a group of Hwarang making their way over to the fray, “What are you going to do?”

“Then we’ve had enough for one night.” He sighs, stepping back form the fight and sheathing his sword. “We can take her any time we’d like.” With that, the duo break past the lines of Hwarang faster than any of the men could keep up with, disappearing into the darkness outside of the compound.

“You bastards—!” Kun calls out after them after they’ve already disappeared.

“Demons my ass,” Yukhei snorts, his arms hanging at his sides, the tip of his sword nearly touching the ground. “All bark and no bite.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Jaehyun teases, “You’re short of breath.”

“You idiot,” Yukhei huffs, “I’m just playing it up to make the enemies lower their guard! But forget that—”

Yukhei glares at the last remaining Demon in the compound, Dong Sicheng.

“You’re funny, Jeong.” Sicheng says with a short laugh, “Looks like we’ll have to settle this at a later date. Hopefully we’ll actually be able to finish next time. I want to fight until one of us dies.” And with that, he’s gone into the night.

The demons disappear and the compound falls silent. Is it over? You brought yourself to your feet but your body goes limp once again.

“Are you alright?” Jaehyun asks as he steps over to you, “You did good.”

You look up to see Jaehyun crouched down next to you, a smile adorning his lips.

“Jaehyun…” If you say anything more, you’re afraid you’ll burst into tears, so instead you give him a shaky smile. With a grin, he tousles your hair and offers his hand out to you.

“Let’s get you back to your room, I’ll walk you there,” he offers, beginning to lead the way.

July 20th, 664 – Bulguksa Temple, Kingdom of Silla Mid-morning, after a tumultuous night and subsequent sleep, you trudge your way to the main hall to find the captains in some kind of meeting. Upon your entry, Jisung turns to you and offers a small wave.

“Good morning,” he smiles and beckons you over to sit down next to him, you take him up on his offer and he speaks again, “Did you sleep well?”

“As best I could,” you respond sheepishly.

“You don’t need to lie,” Jisung notes, “We can tell you barely slept at all.”

“Do I really look that bad?” You mutter, your fingers moving to trace the circles under your eye. A shake of your head as you turn to Minhyung, who sits on your other side, “How’s Shotaro doing?”

“The fall knocked him out cold, but aside from some minor bruises he looks like he’ll be fine,” the officer reassures you. “He wants to apologize for not doing a better job of protecting you.”

“I should be the one apologizing to him!” You claim almost exasperatedly as the door to the main hall opens and a figure strides in.

“Is something wrong, Chief?” Jisung questions Taeil, who looks far from the chipper mood he typically has. “I think you’re scaring her.”

“I’m sorry if I am,” he apologizes to you, “Forgive me.” The smile he gives you is fleeting, returning to the grimace that seems deep rooted into him now.

“What happened?” You question, and he lets out a sigh.

“The monks here don’t want us staying at Bulguksa any longer.” He says as calmly as he can, a look of defeat in his eyes.

“You mean to say they’re telling us to leave?” Minhyung asks, a troubled expression overcoming him.

“More or less, yes,” The leader frowns.

“I had a feeling this would happen…” Jisung sighs out and looks to Taeil, “What should we do?”

The monks at Bulguksa seemed to have shifted to a pro-Guard stance since the outburst of attacks in the recent months against the Hwarang. It’s no surprise they want the Hwarang gone, but this place was just beginning to feel like home.

“Do you think last night’s incident was the last straw?” Minhyung poses to Taeil, who nods in agreement.

“I don’t think, I know.” He huffs out a large amount of air, “They don’t want actual fighting on their grounds, I’m sure some councilman also had his hand in this as well.”

“This is all my fault,” you realize as he says that, the Demon’s wouldn’t have shown up if you weren’t here.

“That isn’t true,” Taeil tries to reassure you, “We forced ourselves in here with unreasonable demands.”

“If we need to move, we should start looking at new locations,” Minhyung says quickly to change the topic.

“The monks here have already provided another temple for us to stay in,” Taeil says, his brow furrowing.

“That’s very… nice of them,” Jisung states, trepidation in his voice. “They must really want us gone.”

“Yes, to both,” Taeil nods, “which is why I accepted their offer. We’re going to get busy around here soon.”

The donors to Bulguksa Temple bought a piece of land some ways away from the original site to build a new compound for the Hwarang. It lay outside of the city, further than Bulguksa or Shoshin had been, called Shoji. The new grounds have ample enough space for a bathhouse, new training buildings, and even more rooms for the Hwarang members. The members are clearly excited about it. By the time the end of the summer came around, the Hwarang had fully moved from their residence at Bulguksa to their new home in Shoji.

November 11th, 664 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla It’s windy today, you noticed it first when you awoke, the hiss of air swarming in through unsealed cracks and pockets of air where the doors don’t meet their frames. You notice it still when the last of the leaves are stripped from their branches as you and Jaehyun walk to the city center. And you’re noticing it now, the slice of the cold cutting through your clothes and chilling you to the bone.

“It is almost winter, isn’t it?” Jaehyun muses as he catches you shivering involuntarily, “The wind coming in from the coast isn’t helping. If this is what it’s like during the day, I kind of feel bad for the guys who patrol at night.”

Your hands clench as he huffs out a laugh that turns into clouded vapors, “Are your hands cold? Want me to hold them for you?”

You know he’s joking by the way you get flustered and tell him no, him laughing again as you continue to walk down the street. Looking up from your embarrassed haze, you spot someone walking towards you.

“Isn’t today great?” Yukhei asks as he approaches, his arms outstretching as if to embrace the chilled air.

“Unfortunately, not all of us can act like human torches,” Jaehyun shakes his head, “I still don’t know how you’re not affected by the cold.”

“Look at who’s talking Mr. I’ll-Break-Code-and-Wear-My-Summer-Clothes,” Yukhei scoffs. Now that he mentions it, Jaehyun is wearing his Hwarang blues, but the white cloth of his sleeves doesn’t look to be the thick linen typically worn during the colder months.

Even if Yukhei was meaning to scold him, you know he means it in the friendliest way possible. Their friendship is wrought with things like this: what seems to be an argument but is really them caring for one another. You can’t help but chuckle at the two.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Yukhei asks when he catches your expression.

“She probably thinks your face is funny, you should really do something about that…” Jaehyun pokes, a teasing cadence to his voice.

“It’s not that,” you shake your head, “I was just remembering the last time we met each other on your rounds, I was with Yongqin and Jaemin then.” The latter name brings a bitterness to your tongue, still unsure of how to feel about Jaemin and Yuta leaving the Hwarang on such short notice. The two men’s faces turn sour at the mention of their friend.

“I just meant that with everything going on… it makes me a little nostalgic,” you say, trying to shake off the thought.

“The Hwarang’s changed,” Jaehyun nods with a sigh, “Hell, so has everything else. Taeil’s been promoted and all.”

Taeil’s promotion didn’t mean he left the Hwarang entirely, but it meant he traveled often to speak with other generals to speak of the threat of another Baekje plot. Rumors of Buyeo Pung raising an army in Goguryeo had been circulating recently, putting everyone on edge once again. You thought Taeil’s promotion to be a good thing for the Hwarang, yet with Yukhei and Jaehyun’s reaction, they seem less than thrilled.

“We didn’t join to be the Crown’s guard dogs,” Yukhei shakes his head. While the Hwarang had been surface level related to the Crown, only receiving orders when necessary, they now take orders directly.

“How is this going to change for everyone going forward?” You ask the pair, trying to focus on them and not the whirlwinds of conversations happening along the busy street.

“Well, if we really do need to fight against another one of Buyeo Pung’s rebellions, we won’t just be killing off the tail end of his followers. We’ll probably be put on the front lines.” Jaehyun frowns, not too certain what to think of that idea.

“Supposedly, it was Suh Youngho. He’s been making ties to get Baekje back on its feet,” Yukhei’s shoulders shrug, “Because of that I heard some factions of the revivalists are pissed at him because they were trying to win Pung’s favor.”

“He already had a target on his back within the Silla government for being a Baekje revivalist, he’s hated by most of the kingdoms now.” Jaehyun muses, looking up to the sky for a moment. “Until something happens though, I suppose things are going to stay as they are.”

“And they will, it’s not like they can do anything about what the kings want to do,” Yukhei nods. “They’ll only get involved once the king starts asking them to ration their food again to send it off to war.”

As you look around the street, you want to think that he’s right. The city kept thriving even under the threat of another invasion or war… Life continues regardless of what the higher powers of the kingdoms are plotting. You look up to Yukhei, words falling out of you before you can catch them,

“I never realized you were so interested in politics.”

“Didn’t realize?” He looks slightly taken aback, his arms cross over his chest, “What exactly did you think of me?”

“Uhm…” You cough into your hand, looking away from him, “Let’s continue our rounds. It’s nearly winter which means the sun’s going to start setting earlier...”

November 7th, 664 – Shoji Temple, Kingdom of Silla The name Suh Youngho had only been said once before, that you can recall. He seemed to be an instigator for a few of the Baekje-Silla skirmishes as of late and the kingdoms were desperate to find him. Yet, after a few negotiations with Tang and Silla leadership, it seems as if he had betrayed his loyalty to the Silla powers and had begun to help the two allies. You don’t know much about the logistics of it, but when Jisung brings him up, you’re a bit startled by what he says.

“Suh Youngho has been assassinated.” Jisung states the news in the main hall, among the collection of captains who linger there after their morning practice.

“Are you serious?” Jaehyun questions, “Do they know who did it?”

“Could have been someone from Silla or it could’ve been someone from the loyalists,” Yukhei shrugs, “Hell, it could’ve been personal. If it was, I bet it was that Huang guy.”

“If he was going to get killed, I wish I could’ve done it myself,” Yongqin sighs, crossing his arms.

“That’s not very funny, coming from you,” Yukhei frowns as he looks at the other captain. “Weren’t we told to leave him alone?”

You’d never met Youngho, in fact, you barely know who he was or what he did. Yet somehow you feel that his death means something important to the kingdom, as if the already rising unease has skyrocketed.

“You all know the orders to leave him alone came from the Crown,” Jisung nods gravely, “The rest of the kingdom isn’t going to see it that way. A scabbard belonging to a member of the Hwarang was left at the scene of his death. An official investigation by the Guard has been launched.”

“Is a scabbard really enough evidence?” You ask, feeling worry begin to claw its way down your spine.

“If it’s not I’m sure they’ll ‘find’ some more when it comes time,” Jaehyun huffs as he looks back to Jisung, “Who are they saying it belongs to?”

“They actually say it’s yours, Jaehyun.” Jisung frowns as the elder’s eyes widen.

“Really Jeong?” Yongqin sounds somewhat amused, “I wish you’d taken me along.”

“Cut it, Li.” Jaehyun’s voice is sharp as he motions to his waist, “My scabbard’s right here. If they’re going to make shit up, they should at least do it better.”

“I don’t suspect you,” Jisung points out and gestures to the others in the room, “I’m sure no one else here does either. Unfortunately, I’m not sure that the rest of the kingdom won’t try to pin the blame on you… I’m sure they’re having trouble finding the real culprit. Those who don’t think it’s you are looking at Huang Renjun, they say that he hired us to kill Suh.” Was that the Huang that Yukhei had mentioned earlier?  

“I’m sure most of the king’s chamber are eager to pin this on us though,” Yukhei shakes his head, “Ever since the rumors of Baekje started again, the king only appointed staunchly pro-Royal Guardian and Guard nobles. Unless someone lied though, there’s no way this murder was done by one of us.”

“Unless Taeyong decided to go and do it off the record,” Yongqin notes, a slight smirk on his lips.

“How… is he these days?” Jaehyun asks, a worried expression on his face. The last few times you’d come across him, he seemed to be acting stranger and stranger. Even if you didn’t want to believe it, something like this wasn’t far out of his realm of possibility. Whenever you pass him in the halls, it looks as if he’s hungry, thirsty for blood.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Yukhei says, a hand running through his hair, “If we let people know about the Furies…”

“About that,” Kun interjects as he walks into the room, followed by Taeil. It looks as if he’s going to say something else but the third figure that walks in takes everyone by surprise that whatever the commander is trying to say gets drowned out.

“Yuta?” Yukhei nearly gasps out, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

For a moment, you question whether you’re asleep or not. The man who had just entered the hall was the same man who’d left months ago with Gongmyung and his men, Nakamoto Yuta.

“Yuta,” Jisung says, a smile overcoming him, “What happened with Gongmyung’s organization?”

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?” You ask him as you look to Yuta. “There’s no way the commander would allow someone from Gongmyung’s group here, we’re not even supposed to be talking to them—”

“Just,” Kun sighs out, trying to get the energy in the room to settle, “Let me talk. Starting today, Nakamoto’s returned to the Hwarang.”

“What?” Jaehyun sounds surprised, his once crossed arms falling to his sides. “Hold on, Qian, we’re glad he’s back but… What happened with Gongmyung?”

“You’re mistaken, but understandably so,” Yuta speaks, and you feel a sense of calm wash over you. It’s been too long since you’d heard him last. “I was never one of his supporters.”

“In fact, he joined Gongmyung under Kun’s direct orders,” Taeil says with a coy smile, “As a spy, of sorts.” With the leader’s words, everything begins to make sense.

“I can’t believe you went off and had fun without me,” Yongqin faux pouts at Yuta.

“I’m sorry we had to keep this from you,” Taeil’s head bows down in apology. It’s a surprise for sure, but nonetheless a welcome one.

You give Yuta a small smile but he only sighs and shakes his head, “I’m afraid it’s a bit early to feel relieved.” His gaze turns to Kun, “The last six months have made Gongmyung’s intentions clear. Gongmyung plans to uproot the Hwarang institution in favor of his ideal one.”

“What do you mean by uproot?” Jisung asks with a frown.

“Gongmyung is going to expose the Furies to force the king’s favor,” Kun bites the inside of his cheek as he holds in a scathing retort.

“There’s more,” Yuta adds and glances to Taeil, “They plan to assassinate the Leader of the Hwarang.”

Taeil’s face is tense, gaze hardening as he looks to Kun and waits for him to speak. You feel your stomach drop, not realizing the extent to which Gongmyung hated the Hwarang.

“The Guardians are moving to destroy us,” The commander says and looks to Jaehyun, “You heard about Suh?”

“That they’re trying to pin it on me?” A nod, “Yeah.”

“They’re using it to pin blame on us and to discredit your father,” Kun crosses his arms, “They’ve been spreading the rumor across Seorabeol, even if Huang says that he wasn’t the one who ‘hired’ us, there’s still going to be people who believe it was our doing.” His gaze travels to Yuta, “So, Nakamoto’s going to be guarding Huang for the time being. If it looks like he left and then came back, it won’t be hard for Gongmyung to figure us out.”

A subtle nod from the captain, “Of course.”

The room stays quiet, so quiet that one can hear the wind whistling in from outside. A tension remains taught in the room, anticipatory for what’s to come and the outcome of what it brings.

“Kim Gongmyung…” The name leaves Kun in a hushed murmur, “It’s not enough for him to expose the Fury Corps, but to try and kill Taeil too?” It’s almost as if he’s having a quiet conversation with his former comrade. He shakes his head, drawing his gaze from the floor and looks to the captains, “It’s too bad that it has to end this way, but we have no other choice. Gongmyung dies.”

“It can’t really be helped, can it?” Taeil exhales, nodding solemnly as if to seal the former Deputy Commander’s fate.

“We’ll invite Gongmyung to Taeil’s residence in Seorabeol, I’ll be there too,” Kun begins, his voice low, commanding, “Once he’s dead we’ll use his corpse to lure the rest of his Guardians there and kill them.” He looks to Jaehyun and Yukhei, “I’m assigning both of you and your divisions to this, take care of it.

“Who do you want me to kill?” Yongqin asks, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword.

“No one, you’re staying here.” When he sees the other beginning to protest, the commander speaks again, “You’ve still got that cough, right? You’re sick. Yuta can keep you company for a few days.”

“So, you’re telling me I can’t participate in the assassination of a person who’s trying to kill our leader?” Yongqin sounds agitated, a bitterness coating his words as he glares at Kun, “You’re a real asshole.”

You don’t realize that you’ve been watching the scene unfold in silent shock until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see Yuta standing there, he seems to take in a breath before speaking.

“The Guardians of the Royal Tomb are going to be destroyed after this… If we want Jaemin to return, this is our only chance of getting him back.”

Eyes widening at what he says, he’s right. If the Hwarang mean to kill the Guardians, that includes Na Jaemin.

Sucking in a breath, you look to Kun, “Commander? What are we going to do about Jaemin? He’s a part of the Guardians…”

“Don’t be silly,” Yukhei says easily, “Of course we’ll save hi—”

“If he fights us, he dies.” Kun interrupts, cutting off the captain.

“You can’t mean that—” Heart beginning to pound in your chest, your mind going blank. Is Kun serious? “You’ve known Jaemin for so long, surely you don’t mean that?”

Kun looks as if he wants to push you away, turning on his heels and exiting the main hall swiftly.

“You’re actually going to order them to kill Jaemin?!” You cry out after him, finding yourself following his footsteps, “Just because he left the Hwarang means you don’t care if he lives or dies?!” Before you’re actually able to leave the main hall, a hand grabs the back of your robes and pulls you into the room.

“I know that he wants to save him too,” Taeil’s voice says softly as you turn to face him, his hand letting go of your clothes. “There’s no way he could possibly live with giving the command to kill a friend who was part of our family for years.” His hands clench at his side, so much so his knuckles turn white and you fear his nails have pierced his skin.

In this moment you realize how much each of the Hwarang are suffering with this.

“I’m sorry for saying that,” you bow your head to him after your realization.

“There’s no need,” Taeil sighs, “You’re angry. We all are. It makes me happy though, I’m glad people care about Jaemin.” He lets out a heaving sigh before turning toward Jaehyun and Yukhei, “I’m not asking this as your Leader, but as Moon Taeil… Let Jaemin live, if you can. Try and convince him to rejoin the Hwarang.”

“… Got it,” Yukhei says quickly as Jaehyun takes a moment more to think.

“His life in our hands?” He shakes his head, “That’s a big responsibility.”

“I trust everything’s clear, then?” Taeil asks, scanning the faces of the captains, “If you have questions, now is the best time to ask.”

“…Wait,” you speak up, unable to stop yourself. The leader looks to you as you brace yourself, “I haven’t been given any orders. I want to help.”

“This is an… unseemly job.” Taeil looks at you, brow contorted, “Nothing like Wonweol or Ongsan. You shouldn’t be involved.”

He’s right. This isn’t a mandated order from a higher official, this was the Hwarang’s business alone, a covert and self-righteous one at that. They aren’t meant to guard or patrol; they’re set on murder.

“… I understand.” You speak. Would you be of any use in that scenario? Would you see your former allies die before you? The more you think about it, the more you can’t stand the thought of going along.

After seeing the men off, you stand in the courtyard, eyes watching the blue moon. Your mind worried with thoughts of Jaemin and the others, you find yourself about to turn back inside before you hear footsteps running towards you.

“Minhyung?” You ask as you turn to look at the newcomer.

“What are you doing out here?” He shakes his head, “Never mind that, we don’t have time. I need to get everyone into the main hall. Can you help me round them all up?”

The main hall is noisy, even though most of the Hwarang are elsewhere.

“Yongqin is resting, so I decided to leave him be. Is that alright?” Jisung asks.

“That’s fine,” he says, noticing that some faces are missing, “I can’t wait any longer, we’ll have to start without them.”

“Has something happened?” You ask, having never seen Minhyung this impatient before.

“Did Gongmyung’s assassination not go as planned?” Jisung questions.

“No, it was a success.” He shakes his head, “We were able to lure the Guard and surround them.”

So, few words to mark the death of a man. But Minhyung presses forward, “Unfortunately, we were interrupted by a third party just as we were about to deal with the Guard.”

“Is everyone alright?!” You ask quickly.

“Our men are outnumbered, but we have the upper hand in skill. Still, I’m unsure how long they’ll be able to hold off such an overwhelming force…”

“Then we need to send reinforcements,” Jisung says, “Shotaro and I can go—” Just as he moves to leave, an explosion of noise bursts from outside. Shocked glances are exchanged before Osaki Shotaro bursts through the door, distress plain on his face.

“We’re under attack!” He shouts, “It’s a demon!”

“What? Why now?” You question as Jisung frowns.

“I doubt this is a coincidence.” His hand grips the hilt of his blade, “Is it just a single demon? Two? Three?”

“Just one,” Shotaro confirms, “The one with yellow robes.”

“Yellow…” Minhyung mutters, “It must be Donghyuck.”

The three of you run outside, coming to a sudden halt by the scene lain out before you. There are bodies everywhere, the air thick with the copper tinge of blood. The scent is so strong that one need not be a Fury to be driven mad by it.

“These are men from the Fury Corps… Did he kill them all?” Minhyung muses, looking to the dead men. “If this is the Fury Corps, then Taeyong must be nearby as well.”

“He’s over there,” Shotaro points.

The two men, Taeyong and Donghyuck, seem to be at the tail end of a duel. It’s obvious that Taeyong’s struggling by the way his blade sags in his hands after the two parts from their spar.

“This is all a pretender could do,” Donghyuck grins, “Pathetic imitation. Die like the dog you are!”

A Fury who’d been combatting alongside Taeyong falls to the ground with a groan.

“Damn you!” Taeyong shouts out.

“You’re better than this filth,” the Demon quips, “But you’re still nothing more than a pale reflection of true power.”

Of all the Furies, Taeyong is the only one who can even begin to stand before Donghyuck’s onslaught… But even he’s no match for him.

Donghyuck kicks out almost casually at a charging Fury, throwing him across the yard, and continues his slow walk forward.

“Stay back,” Jisung says to you, “We’ll take care of him.”

“But—”

“He’s dangerous, but he isn’t the only enemy here. You never know when his comrades could show up. Besides, the Furies could go rogue at any moment and there’s a high chance they could threaten us.”

The two eventually nod at one another and run off, swords in hand.

“Please stay inside,” Shotaro says, “We’ll go after him.”

Now he runs off to back up the other two. You’re unsure of why Donghyuck chose this time to attack.

“I’ll find Yuta!” You call out to him, racing off into the compound. If Jisung and the others are here, and Yongqin is bedridden, there may be one more man unaccounted for who might be able to help.

You only run some distance before you collide with someone.

“Yuta!” You cry out, only realizing once you step away that it’s a Fury. “No—you’re—” His eyes are red, mad with bloodlust.

Scrambling back, you hear a voice call out to you, “Get out of the way!”

Stepping to the side, you nearly miss the blade that slashes out, cutting down the Fury where it stands. As you turn to look at Yuta, it occurs to you how ironic it is to have been saved by the man you’d gone out to find.

“They’ve lost control, then?” He looks to the fallen Fury, his mouth a thin line. “Unfortunate.”

“Donghyuck’s here! Jisung’s fighting him with some of the other men, but…” You begin before Yuta shakes his head at you, understanding the situation.

“Where are they?”

“O- Outside,” you say, meaning to lead him there but find that your legs are too shaky to move.

“Don’t worry,” Yuta says with a small smile, “So long as I have orders to protect you, I will. Regardless of circumstance.”

The Hwarang is a man of few words, yet when he does speak it’s never unnecessarily. But now he’d taken the time to comfort you.

“…Thank you.”

“There’s no time,” he urges, “We must go.”

When you return to the battle, you find that Donghyuck is still engaged.

“Stay in position, Osaki!” Minhyung shouts out, “If even one of us is killed, the formation is ruined!” Sweat shines on their brows in the moonlight, their chests heave as each of them struggle for breath.

Donghyuck looks almost completely unfazed. He’s killed countless Furies, fought the stand-still and not suffered a single scratch.

“You brought Yuta,” Jisung almost sighs in relief, “Good.”

“If anyone is hurt, tell them to pull back,” Yuta orders, “I’ll handle this.”

“Interesting,” Donghyuck smirks, “These weaklings were beginning to bore me, but now that you’re here, it’s time to play.”

“Yes, I am.” Yuta’s eyes scry the ground for a moment, “I’ve come to check your rampage… Or at least to try.” His body lowers into a crouch and he reaches for his sword.

Instead of entering a stance of his own, Donghyuck looks at Yuta for a moment, then sheathes his own sword and slowly backs away.

“You’re running?” The Hwarang questions.

“Unfortunately, I’m here today only to buy time for another,” Donghyuck sighs, “I’m not here on personal business, and I never intended to stay long.” His gaze slides to you, motioning to the dead on the ground, “Remember that this is the fate of a false Demon. Blood drives them to madness, and for what? Even en masse they cannot defeat a true Demon. Do you really wish to live surrounded by such filth?”

“I won’t go with you,” you say angrily, but all he does is flash you a grin before melting into the darkness.

“Are you okay?” Yuta asks as he sheathes his blade and walks over to you.

“Yes,” you nod, “Thank you…”

You once again cannot shake Donghyuck’s words. As you look across the brutally slain remains of the Furies, you can feel your stomach drop.

“Some of the Furies got past and into the compound,” Minhyung reports, “They were killed almost immediately, though.”

“By who?” Yuta questions, “There’s no one inside that could’ve done that.”

“By… Yongqin.” Minhyung says, “When I went to his room, the floor was covered in dead Furies.”

“But isn’t he too sick to fight?” You question.

“That’s why we need to get Doctor Namekawa immediately.” He says and you quickly make your way to him.

“Then I’m coming with you!”

The assassination of Kim Gongmyung and the dissolvement of the Guardians of the Royal Tomb comes to be known as the Samsil Incident. Both the Guardians and the Hwarang were surprised by the sudden appearance of the Royal Guard and the Demons who accompanied them. Both parties had fallen for the trap and the fight was thrown into a mass disarray.

As the battle of Samsil was taking place, the headquarters of the Hwarang came under attack from Lee Donghyuck. Causing the already ill Yongqin to further injure himself fending off the rogue Furies.

The serum that your father brought to the Hwarang seems to only be a cause for worry. Slowly devouring the organization piece by piece. How long until the serum swallows them whole?

December 2nd, 664 – Shoji Temple, Kingdom of Silla It’s been barely a month since Gongmyung’s murder, since the Samsil Incident and the return of Jaemin and Yuta, but the Hwarang feels nothing like it once was. A looming, dark atmosphere hangs over the headquarters. Many men had lost their lives or had been injured due to Donghyuck’s attack, even more had been wounded in the fight of Samsil, Jaemin being one of them. Several of the wang-do had seen him almost succumb to the injuries he’d sustained during the battle, due to this, he was pronounced dead but joined the Fury Corps shortly after. Yuta hadn’t been wounded, but many of the Hwarang began to call him a coward.

To them, his betrayal of leaving the Hwarang still runs deep, worsened as they saw him leaving the Guardians to change his fate. You see no reason why he shouldn’t correct them: he’d left to help the Hwarang, not deceive them. He claims that he’ll keep quiet on the matter, as to not tarnish both Taeil and Kun’s names, who had ordered him to join Gongmyung. Due to this, it has been decided that Yuta will leave Shoji for the time being, until the hot-headed tempers of some of the Hwarang recede. He’s been sent to protect Huang Renjun, a Tang noble residing in the northern part of the kingdom.

The Samsil Incident was in no small terms a turning point for the Hwarang. For the men who knew only the surface level details, it seems as if it were just a battle between the Hwarang and their former comrades. Those better informed know that it is the causation due to a culminating fear of another Baekje rebellion. Suh Youngho’s death solidified that as truth. And further still: the Hwarang are the only ones who know of the Demons, and Jaemin’s transformation into a Fury. They’re the only ones who know Yongqin’s illness has gotten worse.

Such an event riled the compound, a moment of silence scarce in the days following the battle. Feeling as you would only be in the way during this time, you keep to your room.

You’re sitting cross-legged at your desk, wondering if writing your thoughts down may help you try and conceptualize this all, when your door opens without a knock.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Taeyong says as he steps into your room. “If you’d left, I wouldn’t have been able to search for you.”

“Taeyong?” You look up to him, confused at his appearance. “It’s daytime, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Taeyong nods his head, his voice sounding a little frantic. “I just had a revelation and had to share it with you immediately.” His eyes glitter with… a dangerous curiosity and you feel spindly cold fingers of dread scratch down your back.

“Why me?” Questioning carefully, “Wouldn’t you want to tell the Chief or Commander first?”

“…Well, it has to be you.” A small frown pulling at his lips, “Won’t you listen to me?” Although in the form of a question, the way he asserts himself lets you know you have no choice. “Sooyoung claimed you are from a Demon family, right?” He doesn’t allow you to respond before he begins to speak. “And as a Demon, you’re stronger, faster and more resilient than a human. Their superiority over humans was clearly displayed during their most recent attack.”

“I understand that,” you nod slowly, “But what are you trying to say?”

“A Demon possesses more power than the average human, it follows that the blood of a Demon possesses that power as well,” His deductions begin to unsettle you, despite that, he continues, “Perhaps even potent enough to counteract the madness of the Furies.”

You’re unsure how the pimul works, but Taeyong’s explanation seems logical, even if he’s somewhat frenetic about it.

“Since before I became a Fury, I’ve been researching on how the serum works, I know more about it than anyone here.” Taeyong pauses and shakes his head, “Yet, I still have yet to discover the exact composition of it. I hypothesize, however, that a core ingredient is fresh blood… And I’m assuming not from a human. Perhaps there are Demons or Demon-like beings roaming throughout the other kingdoms.”

“So…” You trail off, still not able to follow him completely.

Taeyong takes a step closer to you, falling to his knees as you continue to sit at your desk, “Your very existence could save the Fury Corps… No,” He shakes his head, “The entirety of the Hwarang.” His eyes turn sharp, piercing, even, as he looks at you. The barest trace of mania in his voice as he confesses his thoughts. His hand reaches for the sword at his hip, calmly and carefully drawing it from the scabbard.

There seems to be no madness or bloodlust in his movements, but that only serves to terrify you even more.

“I’m not going to kill you,” He tries to reassure you, but your heart’s beating too quickly and your limbs feel too heavy to move away from him, “I just want a sample of your blood…” Taeyong begins to rise to his feet, that’s when you find yourself mirroring him, taking a step or two backwards to distance yourself from him.

The blade glimmers in the sunlight as he raises it, raising it towards you before you hear a shout from the hallway.

“Taeyong what the hell are you doing?!” Kun bursts into the room, quickly looking from the colonel to you as if to gauge the situation. “What’s going on here? Of all people, you should know not to draw your sword on someone in the compound, have you lost it?”

“Kun,” Taeyong smiles when he sees him, “Please, give me a hand here. Convince her to cooperate with us.”

With an assertive quiet, Kun steps between you and Taeyong. “Personal conflicts are forbidden, the O Gye apply to even us captains.”

The colonel stares at Kun for a moment, and then another before begrudgingly sheathing his sword.

“Did she do something to upset you?” Kun asks one it seems as if Taeyong’s cooled down.

“I’m searching for a way to treat the madness caused by becoming a Fury, for the good of us all,” Taeyong says simply, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

“And that means you have to cut her?”

“It’s not like I’m going to kill her,” Taeyong frowns and shakes his head, “I only need a little of her blood. We lost so many Furies during the attacks, many of our human wang-do as well. If we are to effectively use the men we have left— We need to find a way to temper their madness. Surely you understand this, Kun.”

“The code says we’re to trust one another,” His gaze hardens at the colonel, “It doesn’t look like she’s very trusting of you right now. No matter your reasoning, I cannot condone this if either party is unwilling, or coerced into submitting.”

“It’s not as if she’s one of the Hwarang,” Taeyong points out.

“Maybe not, but she’s been here long enough to might as well be one.” The two continue to stare at each other for a while, their stubbornness present at the matter.

Taeyong eventually sighs, “It isn’t like you to be this soft. I’ll leave for now. But if we don’t find a way to suppress the side effects of the pimul… Even Jaemin will suffer like the rest.” He leaves on that note, you don’t exhale until you hear his footsteps wane away into nothing.

Kun hums, looking at the door and then turning to you, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes,” You nod, “Thank you…”

“Nothing to thank me for,” He bows his head, “I was making sure he was adhering to our code.” His gaze returns to the door, “In the past, he wouldn’t have challenged me like that.”

A slow nod as your eyes finds the door, lingering there for a moment. It’s true, Taeyong had been acting more and more strange lately. He would never have drawn his sword aggressively, or demanded things from you without consulting the other Hwarang first. “… I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong with you?” Kun questions, his attention turning rapt to you, “There isn’t anything to be apologetic for.”

“The reason he was acting like that…” You frown, “Because Donghyuck destroyed the Fury Corps.”

Kun seems to reflect on this for a moment before responding, “I think you’re confused.”

“Lee Donghyuck has allied himself with our enemies, be it in the court or Baekje. If an enemy attacks us, it’s known that we’re going to put our lives on the line to stop them.” There’s conviction in his voice yet you cannot help the guilt that invades you.

“It isn’t your sole duty to protect me, though.”

“What are you trying to say?” His arms cross as he tilts his head, “Want us to hand you over to the Demons in the hopes they’ll spare our lives? Just because they’re more powerful than us? That isn’t how we work.” Kun’s confident in his claim, and you feel no way to object to it. Even if he won’t say it, having you leave the compound would make their live exponentially less dangerous, it would be a violation of the values they pride themselves in upholding.

“I’m sorry if what I said was out of line,” apologizing once more, you bow your head.

“I already told you to stop apologizing, don’t make me repeat myself,” He murmurs under his breath, timidly looking in your direction. “The next time something like this happens, tell me. Don’t keep it to yourself.”  

“I understand,” you look to him and nod. Kun then turns to leave, but there’s one thing left you have to say. “Commander…”

He stops and looks back to you, “Is there something else?”

“…Nothing.” You shake your head, “I’m sorry for stopping you.”

As much as you want to be helpful around the compound, you know that you can’t. Your very existence here puts them in more danger than they ought to be in. Perhaps it’s best if you lay low.

December 11th, 664 – Jeong Seokmin’s Residence, Kingdom of Silla Baekje is trying to restore itself once more. News from Goguryeo solidifies King Munmu’s fears a few days into December, after a skirmish breaks out on the Silla-Goguryeo front. At first it was thought to be Goguryeo troops, but with Buyeo Pung leading the charge himself, it’s quickly realized that the kingdom is once again trying to establish itself.

More and more soldiers begin to flock to Seorabeol in anticipation of the oncoming onslaught, purges of Baekje loyalists once again resume and a tension lies in the air as if a cord is about to snap and set everything loose. With each passing day, news comes from the north of the collecting armies, as well as from the east, where former Baekje citizens have begun to rebel against the Silla leadership. As the Crown draws in its allies, seeking out aid from Tang once more, they call upon the Hwarang to aid in the upcoming battle.

The Hwarang reside at Jeong Seokmin’s residence, Jaehyun’s father’s home a little way outside of the city. While his father remains locked in the capital as plans are drawn, the residence is being used as a base of operations for the Hwarang, and not just those from Seorabeol.

“Everyone!” A voice shouts from the outer courtyard of the home, a wang-do bursting into the main room, sweat dotting their brow and his eyes looking frantic. “The Chief’s been shot!”

There were no witnessed, and the culprit escaped unnoticed. The motives unsure.

“What the hell?” Yukhei frowns, “What asshole uses a bow in the city?” The captain leaves the residence shortly after collecting a group of men to survey the scene of where Taeil had been attacked.

The arrow pierced the leader’s right shoulder, the head lodging into bone and shattering it. It requires more treatment than you can provide.

The sun had gone down when the door to the main room opens again, Taeyong striding in the room, looking surprised to see you. “You’re still awake?”

“Colonel Lee…” You note, “If you need to use this room I’ll leave.”

“I don’t mind,” he shakes his head, “Rather, I think it’s best that you stay here.” His words confusing, anxiousness rising in your stomach as you recall the last time you’d been alone with him.

Just as he finishes speaking, the captains of the Hwarang file into the room, somber expressions dotting their faces. Your anxiousness only continues to heighten.

“… Looks like everyone’s here,” Kun muses as the door is closed to allow you all a bit of privacy.

“Where’s Yongqin?” Taeyong asks, scanning the faces for the missing captain.

“He shouldn’t hear this,” Kun shakes his head, “If he learns about Moon, he wouldn’t think twice about his safety and run off to find vengeance.”

“But if that’s what he wants, why wouldn’t you let him?” Taeyong points out, “Again, being too kind, Kun.”

“What did you want from us?” Jaehyun’s voice rises, directed towards the colonel. “We don’t know when the fighting’s going to start, for all of us to be here right now… Don’t tell me—”

“It’s exactly that.” Taeyong nods. “I asked you to come with the intention of giving you something.” In his hands, you now see, is a bundle of cloth that he slowly unwraps before you all. What you see makes you take in a sharp breath of air.

“Pimul?” Yuta frowns, eyeing the vials of red liquid in the colonel’s hands.

“As captains of the Hwarang, we took on the risks of researching this,” a slow nod, “In doing so, it’s necessary for us to take responsibility for this experiment. Especially if any of you become injured and unable to fight. Or in the worst case, there’s a possibility that you may lose your own life.” Moving the vials to one hand, he picks up one in his other and examines it in the lanternlight of the room, “I know for certain that this serum will be of use to you.”

“Colonel…” Yukhei says slowly, “Are you trying to experiment on us too?”

“I know your hesitation,” Taeyong snips, dropping the vial back into the pile with an audible clink, “But under our current circumstances, we cannot afford to lose any more of our captains.”

“Fuck that,” Yukhei frowns, “I don’t want to depend on that shit to survive.” With that, he storms past the group of captains with heavy footfalls, swinging open the door before leaving.

“Maybe this would be something of a good luck charm…” Jisung suggests, his eyes warily looking over the vials. “I hope it never comes to the point where we use the serum.” Taeyong extends the pile to the captains.

“I don’t think I’ll use it,” Jaehyun murmurs as both he and Yuta pick up a vial, “but I’ll keep it just in case…”

Until this moment, Kun had remained silent, listening to Taeyong’s speech.

“Take responsibility, huh?” Eyes looking troubled, the commander reaches for a vial and pockets it, almost as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge its presence, “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“I believe that’s all I have to say for tonight.” Taeyong nods as he folds the now empty cloth, “I hope this courtesy doesn’t go to waste.” After he finishes, the captains slowly file out, leaving you alone with Taeyong once more.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this,” He sighs and looks to you, “But don’t let any word of this reach the other Hwarang, do I make myself clear?”

Nodding your head timidly, the colonel stays for another moment before leaving.

The serum that your father created now lies in the hands of the Hwarang captains. The serum that had entrenched them into the world of Demons and a life they should never have had to think about.

December 16th, 664 – Jeong Seokmin’s Residence, Kingdom of Silla “We still haven’t figured out who shot the Chief?”

“I bet you anything it was some of those Guardian bastards!”

“No way, it was probably the Baekje loyalists—”

Ever since the attack on Moon Taeil, the atmosphere at Jeong Seokmin’s residence had been wrought with speculation and tension. This tension ever more present as you step into the main room with a tray of tea for the captains.

“Thanks,” Jaehyun says as you enter, “Can you just leave it here?”

A nod as you set down the tray, it seems as if you’d walked in on an important discussion.

“What’s the plan, then?” Yukhei questions whomever he’d been speaking to. “Gaozong wants power in exchange for helping us, but they’re also hoping not to get as involved as they were at Baekgang. They know a war’s coming and they’re trying to extort Munmu for all he’s worth.”

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong,” Kun sighs out from the head of the table. “There’s nothing you or I could do about that though. We follow the Crown and not Gaozong.”

“In regard to sending our men to the front line…” Shotaro speaks up, “Colonel Lee’s been pushing to implement the Furies.”

“I disagree with that,” Jaehyun frowns, “This is war, not a massacre. There’s going to be both enemies and allies on the field, we won’t be able to control them. It’s not that they’re not powerful, it’s just too risky.”

“Agreed,” Yukhei nods, crossing his arms as he leans back in his seat, “And inhumane too.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Yuta questions, looking to the captain. “If you’re so vehemently against it, you should offer an alternative.”

“We’re working on that.” Yukhei grumbles, his voice raising, “If it were so easy do you think we’d be in this mess?”

“Commander,” Shotaro looks to Kun, “What do you think?”

“… Let me think.” A deep exhale from Kun as he straightens himself in his seat, “We need to know the movements of Baekje before anything else, as well as prioritize what the Crown wants and, inadvertently, what Tang wants as well.” With the war inching closer and Taeil’s injury, everyone in the Hwarang had been and is still on edge.

You leave the meeting sometime after then, never finding out what solution the men had come to. Later in the day, as the sunk sinks over the horizon, you find yourself at Yongqin’s door, anxious to check on his condition.

“Captain Li?” You ask, gently opening the door and stepping inside, “How are you—huh?” Upon entering, you find that Jaemin had come along to keep the captain company as well.

“What are you doing up so late?” Jaemin asks as he looks to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, um… people may get the wrong idea if a girl visits a man’s room at night…” The young captain trails off, obviously flustered.

“You know that Yongqin and I aren’t…”

Jaemin laughs, “Yeah, yeah… That’s not really your kind of thing, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’?” Jaemin snickers, “Come on…”

“Why are you here?” Yongqin, not seeming to be in a playful mood, cuts into the conversation, “I assume you have a reason for visiting me?”

“Oh, yes, well… I came to check up on you.” Returning to the reason you’d come in the first place, you look to the captain, “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”

“Of course not,” his expression bitter, “Look at what’s going on.” After a moment of silence, he speaks to you, “Is that all? You can go now.” His aggression taking you by surprise, you falter for another moment before coming to your senses to bring up what had been bothering you.

“Do you all know?” Another pause, “That Colonel Lee wants to… use the Furies.”

“Of course…” The grin that was adorning Jaemin’s face drops.

“If you were him,” Yongqin sighs, “Wouldn’t you want to do the same? They need numbers or they’ll never make a name for themselves. I mean, it’s a given once they can’t function anymore, they’ll need to be cut off.”

“Cut off…”

“We’re not all good-doers,” the captain shakes his head, “we can’t go around giving food to everyone we see who needs it. I mean, yeah, you mooched off of us for years, but that was entirely your good luck. Don’t forget that.”

“I guess you have a point…”

“Yongqin you’re being a bit of a jackass,” Jaemin frowns at the other captain. “It was our fault she was brought to the Hwarang.”

Yongqin sneers at the statement, clearly unmoved, he continues his grievances. “And what the hell is Kun doing? He should be kicking himself in the ass for not apprehending the men that hurt Moon.” A frustrated sigh, “If I weren’t—If I weren’t like this, I’d go out and do it myself.”

His bedrest is clearly getting to him. He’d known Taeil, long before either of them had joined the Hwarang.

“What do you think, Jaemin?” A glance towards the other as you ask.

“Me? I, uhm, well…” He hums, “I did drink the serum but… I was worried about what would happen to me. Taeyong wants more men in the Fury Corps, says we’ll never win otherwise. But I don’t like the idea of forcing the Hwarang to join us, even if they’ve broken our code.” The demeanor he has is unlike the one you remember from when you’d first met him, it’s cold and stern. Recalling how he used to be, a sadness overcomes you.

“No matter what Taeyong says, it’s Kun that makes the call.” Yongqin says, crossing his arms.

“You’re right.” Jaemin says, a frown pulling at him, “But the Corps already exists, it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t.”

“Then maybe we should use them, then.” Yongqin mumbles, “They can hold a sword, at least.”

The power of the Furies is something that would ultimately be beneficial to the Hwarang, should they need to utilize their power for the war effort. Yet, once the war was over… You struggle to think of what would be done with them after. Fearing the answer, you don’t press the matter further.

January 3rd, 665 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla Just before the year ends, it’s decided that Yongqin’s condition had worsened and he’d contracted both what your father had once called phthisis. The disease isn’t uncommon, but it is uncurable. You’d had suspicions that he had contracted phthisis when he’d first begun to lose strength, but never wanted to admit to such a devastating thing. The entirety of the Hwarang is shaken by the news.

It’s decided that he and Taeil are to be sent to Daegaya, where Namekawa Yasuo can look over them as they receive treatment.

Despite them leaving, Seorabeol is still on high alert. The Hwarang remain on standby at Jeong Seokmin’s residence as the year begins to shift to the next. Your hope that the thoughts of war would wane fades lasts only three days into the new year.

“So, we’re moving soldiers to prepare for battle?” You ask as Yukhei and Jaehyun walk outside of the residence, towards the improvised training site.

“Nah,” Jaehyun shakes his head, “I think they’re just trying to scare off Baekje with all of the soldiers at their disposal. Best case scenario is that they get too freaked out by all of our men so they run away with their tails tucked before we even see them.”

“With common sense, they’d already be leaving,” Yukhei adds, “We outnumber their men by a pretty big margin.”

“That sounds great and all, but we’re dealing with some stubborn fuckers,” Kun shakes his head as he joins you, Yuta following close behind.

“It’s simple math though, isn’t it?” Yukhei frowns.

“Did you forget Ongsan?” Yuta sighs.

“We won that, though.”

“Barely.” Yuta shakes his head and crosses his arms, “If they have already put forth this much effort, I’m certain that they’re prepared for our men.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll start preparing for the worst then,” Yukhei says bitterly, it looks like Yuta’s words have gotten to him.

January 5th, 665 – Jeong Seokmin’s Residence, Kingdom of Silla The Hwarang remain on standby at Jeong Seokmin’s residence as the year begin the shift to the next. Your hope that the thoughts of war would wane fades only five days into the new year.

A coalition of soldiers claiming to be from Baekje invaded a town on the western front of where the Baekje-Silla border once was. Violence broke out and suddenly, the war had begun. Groups of these revivalists began to spring up in the kingdom as well, the closest having come to try and instigate fights with the Hwarang on the outside of the city.

You find yourself caring to the wounded Hwarang along with Lee Jeno, him running errands for you as you tend to those who require the most attention. Most of the men you tend to aren’t suffering from life-threatening injuries, it’s one small thing you can take solace in.

The fighting had begun on the third, and now on the fifth, it doesn’t seem to relent at all. You hear disparaging news every day and it only worsens when Kun walks into the common room one evening.

“We’re leaving.” Kun announces abruptly, “We’ll reconvene in Daegaya and use that as our new base of operation. Yuta, gather the injured. Jaehyun, Yukhei—round up everyone who can still move and secure an escape route. Jisung?”

“Yes?” The younger responds.

“Get rid of any unnecessary weapons that we can’t take with us.”

“Consider it done.”

Everyone nods once the orders are received, and Kun looks to leave the room quickly.

“Commander?” You call out.

“What?” He asks, “Is there something else?”

“Um, who should I go with?”

“…Right…” He sighs, “Jisung, take her with you, will you?”

“Very well,” Jisung nods and looks to you, “Let’s go now.”

January 6th, 665 – Outside the Southern Entrance of Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla Your feet slap the road as you race down the wooded path only pausing to catch your breath as your partner stops beside you.

“Are you alright?” Jisung asks, sounding almost as out of breath as you, “We can stop if we need to.”

“We can’t afford to do that,” you shake your head at him, gently pressing your hand to the fabric of the knapsack on your back to ensure that the documents are still there “I’ll be alright.” Wiping the sweat from your brow, you take a deep breath and urge your aching feet to move once more.

“As the sun sets, it’ll be harder for us to be seen in the dark,” Jisung notes, looking up to the amber sky. The sound of rustling leaves in the forest disturbs the two of you as you walk, the captain takes a hold of your wrist and pulls you into the nearby shrubbery as a pair of footsteps begins to tread on the path.

“You!” An unfamiliar voice shouts, “Come out!”

Seeing no other alternative, Jisung and you leave your hidden path, your hand on your blade as you step out in front of a group of soldiers. You sigh in relief upon the sight of them, as their uniforms don’t seem to be from either Goguryeo or Baekje. However, they do seem to be regarding the two of you with suspicion.

“Sorry about that… We’re from the Hwarang.” You say and the main soldier cocks his head to the side.

“The Hwarang?”

“Yes, we’re on our way to Daegaya—” You begin but a hand on your forearm causes you to stop speaking.

“Wait…” Jisung says cautiously.

Before you can question him, the soldier shouts out to the troop, “We’ve got some enemies from the Hwarang!”

“What—” the air ripped from your lungs as Jisung’s grip tightens as he pulls you from the path, racing into the brush to try and get away from your newfound enemies.

“What’s going on, aren’t they on our side?!” You ask, out of breath as you continue to run, stumble and trip in the foliage.

“It…” Jisung says as you come upon an open clearing, pausing to catch his breath, “It might be more accurate to say were.”

Perhaps sensing that maybe Silla could lose, some men had decided to betray the kingdom…

“Stay behind me,” Jisung murmurs as several of the pursuing soldiers begin to climb their way out of the brush. His voice curt, your attention is drawn from the soldiers momentarily as Jisung reaches for something in his pocket.

“Is that—” You don’t say the word as you answer yourself when the tiny vial of red liquid is produced from his pocket.

“It will be necessary if I hope to protect you from them,” he says. Before he’s able to take the lid off, the whistle of an arrow through the air halts conversation. Jisung lets out a strangled grunt as a dull thunk resounds and he falls to his knees. The vial falls from his grasp, shattering on the forest floor.

“Jisung!” You cry out, falling to your knees next to him as his hands lay wrapped around the arrow that had sunk into his chest. Blood blossoms from the wound, you know that you don’t have the tools out here to save him but if you could just get to Daegaya— “Hang in there!”

“Leave me,” cognizant enough to pull himself from his grim realization, Jisung ushers you to stand, “Save yourself!” He falls to his side then his hand still grasping the arrow embedded within him, your heart drops to your stomach as you realize that he isn’t long for the world.

You rise to your feet, angrily looking towards the men who’d effectively just killed your friend. Grasping the blade by your side, you unsheathe it, ready to fight the soldiers.

“You betrayed the Kingdom, didn’t you?”

“We decide where out allegiances lie,” one of the soldiers spits out.

“You vowed to protect the kingdom and yet you run at the first sign of trouble. Aren’t you at all ashamed to call yourself a soldier?” For someone like yourself, who’d witnessed first-hand from the Hwarang what honor really means… These warriors had committed and unforgivable sin. Honor isn’t something they think highly of.

Then, you notice several of their archers pointing their bows in your direction. In an instant, a shooting pain skins across your arm. One of their arrows had slashed a gnarly cut near your shoulder, causing a bolt of white-hot pain to sear through you. However, the Demon blood within you heals that wound, sealing close the cut within seconds.

Another arrow embeds itself into your side, and while staggering, you don’t fall to your knees. Instead, with shaky hands, you pull it from your side and it too closes momentarily.

“What the hell— they hit her, she should be dying right now,” One of the soldiers closer to you says, taken aback. “Is that a monster?!”

Hearing them call you a monster makes your heart hurt, you grimace at them as you speak, “I’m not a human, but it’s you who are the monsters. Turning your backs on your allies… That’s more monstrous than I’ll ever be!”

“Kill it!” They seem immune to your words, panicked frenzy overtaking them as the archers move to notch more arrows. “Shoot at it until it’s dead!”

Yet another wave of arrows soars at you, some striking, a majority missing. You pull those that hit your leg, stomach and shoulder out, feeling the flesh torn by the blows slowly healing itself. Your body feels weary.

“You despicable pieces of shit.” A voice says, calmly, but loud enough to be heard from across the clearing. “Abandoning the Kingdom is one thing, but attempting to harm such a noble Demon with your disgusting, clumsy weapons…” Just then, you feel an arm wrap around you and pull you to your feet.

The soldiers’ eyes go wide at the sight of the man pulling you to his chest, his free hand holding his sword lashing out and slaying the two closest soldiers to you.

“Donghyuck…?” The serious blood loss causes your vision to blur, however, you can recognize his tone anywhere.

“…Save your strength,” he says quietly, “You may be a Demon, but you took a battering back there. It’ll be a moment before you fully heal.” Compared to the handful of other times you had met him; his words now are gentle and comforting.

This man, who time and time again took pleasure out of attacking the Hwarang… Why is he helping you?

The archers watch him carefully, close to being ready to launch another volley of arrows at the two of you.

“Who the hell are you?!” Their leader cries out, “Are you with that monster?!”

“So, what if I am?” Donghyuck questions, his tone flat.

“Then we’ll kill you!” The soldier says, “My men and I will shoot you to death!”

“Shoot me? To death?” You feel his chest move as he huffs out several short puffs of air, “Don’t make me laugh. I didn’t think it was possible to meet someone so unbelievably pathetic and ludicrous.”

He laughs now, not jovially, but almost taunting to the soldiers standing opposite to him. A sigh leaves him as he lets go of you, letting you step behind him as he faces the archers.

“This will only take a moment,” he murmurs to you softly, only then to turn to face the now even more panicked warriors. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?” With a fluid motion, he holds up his sword, “If you want to attack me, you’d better give it your all. It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

All of the archers aimed their bows to shoot-- and then Donghyuck vanishes like smoke before your very eyes. It’s only seconds later when you hear the sounds of flesh being sliced apart.

“You’re a monster too?!” One of the soldiers screams out. The hiss of arrows leaving notches dances along with the sound of slaughtered men in the encroaching nighttime. Yet, Donghyuck dodges each arrow with ease, killing the men easily with quick slashes.

There’s an elegance to the way Donghyuck moves, and as horrific as his actions are, you’re entranced by it all.

“Slaughtering you bastards is child’s play,” Donghyuck frowns as the last man falls. He flicks his sword, ridding it of most of the viscera attached to it, before sheathing the weapon, “You’re not worth my time.”

“Are you feeling any better?” He asks as he walks back over to you, “You should have healed enough to walk by now…”

You nod, now able to stand without limping, “But… why did you help me?”

Donghyuck doesn’t have time to speak before the sound of rustling in the underbrush pulls both of your attention to a shadowy figure emerging from the woods.

“Oh,” They say, sounding relieved, “I’m so glad you’re alive. I was so worried that those stupid humans would have tried to kill you.”

“Huh…?” Who is this person? They aren’t dressed for any particular side in the conflict, and you can’t put a voice to a name.

“Ah,” They seem to tune in to your confusion, “Are you having trouble recognizing me because I’m dressed like this—? We met before, in the city.”

“Oh!” You say, now looking closely at their features, the mirror somewhat coming into place, “Hak Ahro?”

“You do remember me,” a smile graces their lips, “That makes me very happy.”

“You look… different than what I remember though.”

“I can explain,” they say, gaze travelling off to the tree line, “but when we first met, I couldn’t really tell you that I was actually a man.”

“The Hak clan of Mahan.” Donghyuck’s brow raises, “So, you must be one of the Demons from the west.”

“I am,” he nods, “I have you to thank, Lee Donghyuck. Thank you for protecting my sister from those wretched humans.”

“Sister…?” You can’t help but wonder aloud, not sure what’s even happening.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Ahro smiles as another figure exits the forest.

You squint to get a better look, when they come into view your mouth opens and you yell out, “Father!”

“It’s been some time,” he says softly, “How have you been, my child?” For a moment it feels as if you’re back home, yet if you were unaware of all that he has been accused of by the Hwarang, you may have welcomed him with a tight embrace… However, you take a step back as he comes closer.

“What’s the matter?” He asks with a concerned expression.

“Is it…” You don’t want to ask him this but you want to confirm your suspicions, “Is it true the you were performing research that turned humans into monsters with the Hwarang…?” Didn’t you become a doctor because you wanted to save people’s lives?”

“Let me explain,” Ahro says, “sister.”

“Am I really your sister…?”

“Yes! And I’m your twin brother,” Ahro says with a smile, “After the Heo village was destroyed, I was adopted by the Hak clan. “This is proof alone of our relationship.” He motions down to the sword at his side, a near exact copy of yours. “It’s the left partner sword to yours. It’s a family heirloom that has been passed down through generations of our family.”

“Father,” you look to Jinsang, “Is what he says true?”

He nods solemnly, “Yes, we were hoping to speak with you about these matters eventually.”

When Sooyoung had visited you at the Hwarang compounds a while ago, she told you that you possess the blood of a Demon. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet, that you have a twin brother who’s standing right in front of you to confirm that, either…

“You are the heir to the Heo legacy, meaning you are destined to lead out clan to greatness,” Jinsang smiles, “Finally, you’ve come to accept it. Nothing could make me happier.”

Questions that had lied in the recesses of your mind that you’d had about yourself for years are finally getting answered. All of the things Sooyoung and Donghyuck had said… You are a Demon.

“So, what the hell are you creating fakes for?” You’d almost forgot that Donghyuck’s here as well, until he speaks towards your father. “What you’re doing is disgraceful, sullying the nobility of our Demon heritage.”

“Don’t you see?” Ahro frowns at him, “It’s to restore the Heo clan.”

“With the aid of the Hak clan, I have finally perfected the pimul.” Jinsang says sternly, “With this, we can successfully overthrow Silla and take credit for its success. If that were to happen, the powers in this kingdom can no longer control us!”

“It’s time for us to reclaim what’s rightfully ours and seek vengeance against the humans who destroyed our village,” Ahro adds, looking to your dour expression. “Are you not excited to lead the Heo clan? We can now create a life of peace, where no one would dare threaten us ever again.”

There is much to take in, you remain speechless after everything Ahro and your father say. Do they really think that pimul can defeat Silla and restore your people?

“…This sickens me.” Donghyuck says with a sigh, “You want credit for destroying a kingdom? All you’re doing is interrupting the petty squabble of human affairs. Such an endeavor is beneath us.”

“Sure, look down your nose at us,” Ahro grimaces, “But weren’t you working with the loyalists as well, Lee? What makes you think you’re any better than us?”

Donghyuck seethes with contempt. His eyes glowing with hatred towards Ahro. To what extent he’s been involved with the loyalists, you’re unsure. At least, though, you know it isn’t for something as selfish as trying to gain notoriety for toppling a monarch.

Instead of answering your brother right away, he fixes his gaze on you and speaks calmly, “Mind if I kill all of them, right here and now?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I’ll speak to them. I am the descendent of the head of the Heo clan.”

He smiles at this, “Hah, seems like yesterday that you didn’t even know you were a Demon.”

You take in a deep breath before addressing your brother, “I have seen many men in the Hwarang become Furies… If you think that serum is our solution, then I think we have no need to restore our clan.”

His eyes widen, “You mean to say— You think we should just grit our teeth and accept the death of our clan, our family? Our real parents were murdered, and you don’t want revenge? You’re so naïve.” Ahro tries to calm himself. “Besides, with or without the Furies or the pimul, humans will continue to engage in pointless conflicts until the extinction of their species. With all of the corruption plaguing the future of this kingdom… Drastic steps need to be taken, to prevent what happened from ever happening again.”

“Ahro…”

“This is going nowhere,” Donghyuck sighs, “But it’s to be expected.” With an air of composure, he unsheathes his blade and stands in front of you.

“I believe killing another Demon is a punishable act that makes the offender a ‘Stray Demon’, does it not?” Jinsang questions pointedly.

“However, the crime of creating fake Demons, to me, makes you even lower than that.” Donghyuck’s voice is stoic, bordering on anger, “Besides, as a Demon lord, it is my duty to crush those who have strayed from the path of righteousness.”

“I see,” Jinsang nods, “However, it’s a little unfair to expect me to cross swords with a Demon lord.” He puts two fingers to his lips, whistling loudly. Then— From the line of trees in the nearby darkness, pairs of red eyes begin to flash. What appears to be red-eyed, white-haired Furies begin to emerge, birthed from the foliage. It’s not only one or two, either. But nearly two dozen of them appear in front of you.

“You’ve sure been busy creating all of these Furies, haven’t you?” Donghyuck sneers, “Jinsang, I could kill you over a thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“The human world is about to enter a new era…” Heo laughs, “We, Demons, need to rid ourselves of these archaic customs and adapt to survive.” Attention turned to the Furies, “Kill this man and feast on his blood.”

Once again, he whistles and the Furies gather around Donghyuck and you, their bloodlust rampant in their eyes.

“You think you can kill me and feast on my blood?” Donghyuck chuckles, raising his sword, “What a joke. Do you really think any of you weaklings stand a chance against me?!” He storms forth, slashing with grace at every Fury that stands in his path. However, striking anywhere other than a vital organ on a Fury means they can still heal… Furthermore, these Furies look to be a huge improvement over the ones the Hwarang have.

Just as that thought comes to mind—

“We’ll come back for you. Next time, I hope you give us a good answer,” Ahro says and you begin to run after the two, but before you can even get close to them, both vanish like smoke.

“I lost them…” Donghyuck huffs, turning around and slaughtering every remaining Fury after seeing the two disappear. He looks irate as he quickly sheathes his sword. After a moment, he turns to face you, “Why are you out here in the first place? Where are the Hwarang?”

You’re unsure if you want to share or not, Donghyuck’s been working with the loyalists, however… No matter how extreme he may take things, he had just saved you.

“I was on my way to Daegaya.”

“Got it,” he nods, “They abandoned their post and run with tucked tails away… Those pitiful dogs wouldn’t stop barking about protecting you. Why are you here alone?”

Heart heavy at the thought of Jisung’s death, you can’t find it within yourself to put it into words. Perhaps your silence tells him all he needs to hear, and he slowly turns away.

“… How ironic. Turns out the only one capable of keeping you safe when you needed them the most was me—not them” His words are strangely playful, and he smiles smugly without any real malice. Although your doubts about his character haven’t faded completely… It is true, he had kept you safe.

“What do you plan to do now?” He asks.

“I… will head to Daegaya.” You state, “I have to rejoin the other warriors as soon as possible.”

“Return to the Hwarang?” He frowns, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

You know that he isn’t fond of the Hwarang in any way, so you wonder if this is just another insult to them. Normally, you feel as if he has no right to tell you how to live your life, however – just for today – you don’t stop him from explaining.

“All of those areas have been taken over by the loyalists,” he says grimly, “But, if your idea of a good time is seeing the rotting corpses of your friends, be my guest.”

“Well…” Thinking back to all that has been going on as you fled the Jeong residence, his words make sense. And if Donghyuck had never stumbled upon you, you likely would have been brutally murdered as well. Even if you do head to Daegaya, you have no idea if it would do yourself any good.

“Let me let you in on a little secret—the road to Daegaya is already being heavily monitored by Baekje infantry.” You stare at him in disbelief, how had they managed to surround the kingdom so quickly?

“That can’t be…”

“They won’t make it out of the capital,” He says plainly, “It’s only a matter of time until the Hwarang run out of allies and they’re forced to give up. If you go now, you’ll just be a burden for them. Don’t go.”

A dull pain resonates throughout your chest. “Is that… true?”

“What good would lying to you do to me? The kingdom’s done for.”

As much as it hurts, you think Donghyuck may be telling the truth. His crimson eyes stare at you solemnly

“… Isn’t that more reason for me to reunite with them? If I can tell them the road’s blocked, then maybe I can prevent them from walking into a trap.”

“Darling,” he sighs, closing his eyes, “You’ve got a real thick skull.” Donghyuck then turns from you, beginning to walk towards the darkness. You watch him become engulfed by the thick trees and you’re unsure if you should follow him or not.

It takes you a moment, and it doesn’t seem as if he’s manipulating you in any way, so you trust your instincts and run after him into the forest.

Donghyuck, you find, is hiking up, away from the main path. It seems as if he’s aiming for higher ground.

“The court sent a message to every domain in the vicinity of Seorabeol,” He says as you walk behind him, “’The Tang are meant to aid us, should recovery attempts fail, burn all that you have.’”

“What are you trying to say…?”

“That when push comes to shove, people care about themselves more than a higher power, humans are selfish creatures.” Donghyuck stops to turn and look at you, “You wonder why families turn their backs on the King? It’s because he asks them to do errant things.”

From the ledge you stand on, you have a clear overlook of Seorabeol, of the flames licking buildings and the catastrophic nature of war. You watch with bated breath as the city crumbles bit by bit.

“Like it or not, this war has been decided.” Donghyuck frowns, “When things fall apart like this, no matter how much you or your friends fight, it won’t change… Look, you and I are Demons, everything here, including the Hwarang, is a footnote, really.”

You feel powerless as Donghyuck says that. No matter how much you believe the situation itself is unfair, it won’t change anything.

“But… it’s still not over yet.” Maybe you want Donghyuck to acknowledge that there could still be a chance for the Hwarang, for the kingdom. You don’t fully trust him yet, but you trust him enough to think that he respects you enough to be truthful with you.

“We still have the Tang reinforcements, like you said—”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? They’re done!” He says, “Who in their right mind would willingly join a losing side? Face it, it’s over.”

“But—!” You want to offer one last rebuttal, but a sudden loud roar comes from the city. It looks as if the loyalists have breached the walls.

You fall quiet, and the two of you share a heavy silence. He’s waiting for you to speak first. However, you don’t have much to say. Bur for the sake of breaking tension, you ask him a question.

“What will become of the loyalists now, then?”

“They’ll rip Silla to shreds.” He states, “Anything that can be taken will be taken—their land, their ranks, their armies. Everything.”

“But, why?”

“Same bullshit reason as for anything else,” he shrugs, “Money, political clout, power, and honor. Humans would give up their own family members if it meant gaining any one of these things.” The directness of his answer surprises you. You thought that he’d keep all concerning the loyalists form you. Yet, his indictment on humans annoys you.

“So, you think the only reason people fight is for money?”

“Humans don’t fight with honor. It’s all just glorified robbery sprinkled with bullshit platitudes. All they care about is their false honor and money.”

You shake your head, “There may have been many wars that have been fought over the reasons you describe, but… Not everyone fights for money or political nobility.”

“Humans are all the same.” Donghyuck insists, “The pursuit for power and money is only matched by the lengths they will go to protect it. All these weaklings can do is drag people down in their desperate attempts to survive. Or have you already forgotten the poor souls who tried to attack you earlier… Muggers, thieves, two-bit warriors, all the same.”

“Even then, my father and brother were working to benefit their own people by overthrowing the King and making their name from doing so…” You say pointedly, “How’s that any better than humans who act on their selfishness?” Donghyuck’s silence pushes you to continue, “Besides, there are plenty of people who aren’t fighting for themselves, but rather to protect the people they care about.”

“You must be talking about the Hwarang.” Donghyuck’s shoulders fall as he breathes out a lengthy huff of air, “I guess I can understand what you’re trying to get at…”

“Huh?” You can’t help but say aloud, not expecting him to meet you halfway at all. The Hwarang don’t follow the same, cynical blueprint he attributes to the rest of mankind…

“Yeah,” he nods, “and they just happened to pick the losing side. Shit happens.”

The losing side… You glance to the burning city; can this really not be changed at all?

“If they lose this, Daegaya will be next…” Donghyuck notes, just as a gust of wind blows past you.

“Ah,” a voice calls out, “We’ve found you two.”

That voice…!

“You’re safe!” Sooyoung cries out, flanked by Seulgi. “I worried myself sick, thinking that you may have been caught in the crossfire.”

“What- What are you two doing here?” You ask incredulously.

“I was looking for you,” Sooyoung says, “I have an urgent message for you.”

“What is it?” Your head tilts as you ask.

“It’s about your father…” She hums, “This will take some time. Do you mind joining us?”

“But I need to find the Hwarang…” You state.

“… They are still trapped within the city, or at least the outskirts of it,” Seulgi frowns, “It would be dangerous to try and return you to them at this time.”

Your heart sinks, hoping there was a different way to go about things.

“… Let’s go,” Donghyuck says to you quietly, “All of your so-called errands you have to do for the Hwarang can be handled by other people. However, the only person who can stop Jinsang is you, the heir of the Heo clan.” The resolve within his voice drains whatever hesitation lay inside your head.

“Okay,” you nod and turn to Sooyoung, “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Of course, right this way.”

You follow Sooyoung to a village situated in a mountain pass near Seorabeol. There’s a serene aura that permeates from the air of the village, setting it apart from any other place you’ve ever visited. For some reason, a strange nostalgia washes over you. So, this is a Demon village—

“It’s this building,” Sooyoung says as she motions to an ornately decorated building straying off of the main street, “The others have already gathered, so let’s make our way inside.”

As you step inside, you see both Xiao Dejun and Dong Sicheng standing there.

“Took you long enough,” Dejun says as he crosses his arms, “You were with her, weren’t you, Donghyuck?”

“What a way to start the new year, huh?” Sicheng notes with a shrug of his shoulders, “Well, I saw it coming though.

“In a good mood, are we Sicheng?” Donghyuck asks.

“Well, for the Baekje peoples, this war’s been everything we wished for and then some,” he responds, “Kinda sucks that they needed Goguryeo to help them out, though.”

“So, a senseless conflict fought over absolutely nothing is something they wished for?”

“Well, maybe the humans are dealing with more than we think.” Sicheng frowns, “They have priorities other than defending their clans, unlike us.”

“Hmph,” Donghyuck notions, “You’re starting to sound like one of them.”

“Let’s leave it there, shall we?” Sooyoung interrupts, “Let’s get started.” She looks to you, “This may be a little difficult for you to listen to…”

“Don’t worry,” Donghyuck says, “She’s a little tougher than you give her credit for… She and I just fought Jinsang, and his pathetic band of Furies.”

“With Hak Ahro as well?” Her eyes widen, “So, can I assume that means you understand a good amount of what’s going on now?”

“…Yes,” you nod.

“For them to sustain the number of Furies they have… They will need many lives to feast upon.” Her lips curve down, “So, currently, they’re heading to—”

“They’re going west, aren’t they?” Donghyuck states, obviously not a question.

“Exactly.”

“Then we’ve heard enough,” he sighs, “We’re going to head there immediately and wipe out every single one of those Furies.” His gaze travels toward the exit, getting ready to leave.

“Wait!” You cry out, reaching for his sleeve, “I’ll go with you!”

“…With me?” He asks, almost taken aback, “Are you serious? Or does the fact that I’ve kicked your friends’ asses over and over again not mean anything to you?”

True, he seems to have loved antagonizing over the Hwarang… Even so, there’s a peculiar way he’s made you feel recently. He may not understand much about the human world, but you’re learning to see him as someone who holds his principles to a higher standard than others.

“Please, let me go with you.” You urge, “In the past, you may have been an enemy of the Hwarang, but… even I can agree that the Furies and pimul need to be destroyed.” If your father and his army are eventually going to cross swords with the Hwarang, then it’s obvious that serious blood would be shed. The thought of losing more friends, like you had Jisung, is something you can’t handle.

“Are you sure…?” Sooyoung seems surprised as well to see you behaving this way towards Donghyuck, her eyes widen as she looks at you. Eventually she speaks again, “I’m going to make this request of you as well, Lee. Please, allow her to join you.”

“…What?” Donghyuck asks.

“With you by her side, I am certain you have what it takes to keep her safe.” Sooyoung states.

“Are you serious?” Sicheng exclaims, “It’s like throwing a rabbit into a wolf’s den.”

“I want to honor her mission from stopping her brood from committing any more egregious sins against our people,” She states, “With Donghyuck by her side, then I have faith that she will live to see that through.”

“So,” a sly smile erupts on Donghyuck’s lips, “Everyone’s finally caught on to what I’ve been saying all along— that I can protect her.”

“What?!” Sooyoung shouts, “How dare you make this about yourself?!”

After the room’s cooled down, you find yourself at the entrance of the village, a goodbye party awaiting your departure.

“Please stay safe on your journey,” Sooyoung says, “If anything happens, I’ll have Seulgi act as a messenger on my behalf.”

“Thank you so much, Sooyoung,” you say gratefully as she turns to your companion.

“Donghyuck, be sure to watch out for her?” She says firmly, “If you let any harm come her way, then you know what punishment will await you.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re speaking to?” He laughs, “You think I’d hurt my future wife?”

“What is with your obsession of marrying her?!” Sooyoung shouts, “You’re simply acting as her bodyguard!”

“Oh,” Seulgi pulls you aside, “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“Huh?”

January 14th, 665 – The Northwestern Pass, Kingdom of Silla Afterwards, Donghyuck and you find yourself back on the road. Seulgi had stated that the men of the Hwarang that made it to Daegaya are now heading west as well. You wonder how all of them are doing right now… Your heart clenches heavily in your chest at how much you miss them.

“The road ahead of them is going to be a long, bloody one.”

Donghyuck had been proven wrong, you find, as to the outcome of the battle for Silla. In the final moments, when all had seemed lost to the Baekje loyalists, a barrage of Tang soldiers were able to capture them by surprise, securing the city with the aid of their general, Li Chi.

While Silla suffered tremendous loss, they would live to see another day. And now that they can steadily rise to their feet with Baekje defeated, they look to their northern neighbors, Goguryeo, for vengeance in the role they played in securing Buyeo Pung’s rally for aid.

The Hwarang, loyal to their Kingdom, have followed King Munmu to Ungjin as he convenes with Tang forces to plan for the upcoming war with Goguryeo.

“And it’s inevitable that some of them will die, if not flee at the first sign of danger. However, your life is no longer on that path. All that you can do now is hope that whatever bad news gets to you in time… Are you ready for that?”

“Yeah…” You nod slowly, “I made up my mind a long time ago.” If the Hwarang can keep their resolve to fight even when things seem bleak, then you can keep up yours as well.

You must complete your mission. You must defeat your father and brother. In your own way, it’s almost as if you’re helping the Hwarang from afar…

“Let’s get going,” Donghyuck says quickly, “Time is wasting.”

You glance to the road behind you one last time, and then to the path in front of you, the uncertain future awaiting you.

For the trip, Donghyuck had secured a horse to make the travel time less. He pulls himself onto the creature, plopping himself down on the horse’s back, and then reaches a hand out to you. You stare at his coarse hand for a moment, taking a few moments to place your hand in his. He grabs you tightly and pulls you up to sit behind him.

“Hold on tight,” he says, gently nudging the horse to tell it to go, “If you don’t, you’ll fall right off.”

“Okay,” you nod, but uncertainty resides in your voice. You’d actually never ridden a horse before. You have no idea where you should place your center of balance, or where to put your hands or feet… So, if you don’t want to fall off, you have to grab tightly onto Donghyuck.

“You aren’t holding on tight enough,” he says, noticing your loose grip.

“But I am…” You say quietly. Now that you think of it, you’ve never been this close to a man before, either. Just thinking about it makes you feel sheepish, and you become a little quieter as you retreat into yourself.

“As soon as we hit Hanseong, we’re going straight for Heo.” He states firmly, watching the path ahead, “If I’m right, they’re probably going to meet with local leaders to plan out attacks on Silla forces. In fact, they’ve probably already met with some of those bastards already.”

“Right…” You nod solemnly. In order to rebuild your home, your father and Ahro said they needed to gain power by helping overthrow Silla. In order to gain power, however, Donghyuck said that great sacrifices need to be made. So, you have to do whatever you can to stop them.

Holding onto this newfound resolve, you tightly embrace Donghyuck as you gallop towards the west.

#haechan x reader #haechan angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #hi it's 8:24 and i've been awake since one editing this lol